#you can tell I did call-center tech support

[xovvo]

Character Concept:

an Artificer who works Artifact Technical Support. Sending Stone headset (likely ugly earrings), two ScryShare mirrors (so you only have to keep the customer busy for 5 minutes between scyings) a magical ledger that can automagically pull relevant account information if you search an account code, user ID, artifact asset ID, etc.

They are on call 24/7 because of a bargain they struck, trading 24/7 on-call employment for 6 months (with a small chance at FTE status, which includes crushing responsibilities, but a small raise in pay, BUT subsidized cleric visits! (up to 10% of gold cost for prayers over 100g in cost, no more than 20 gold on all other services).

Ex:

"Arcane Artifact Support, this is Kluunngoxt, could I get you to please confirm your account ID?...221398? One moment while I pull up some of your account information...wonderful, may I ask whom I have the pleasure of speaking to today?...and what seems to be your issue today, Eireien?...I see. So you're using one of our spell-crystals in a crop-fertility ritual and the spell crystal doesn't successfully discharge when the acorn is crushed after the dance is complete?...ok, what are the dancers holding?...ok, and are they all holding jade eggs, or is each one holding an egg of a different gemstone?...Ok, that sounds correct. Listen, I think I'll best be able to trouble shoot the ritual if we set up a ScyShare---what brand of warding do you use?...you're sure it's Bigby's Obfuscating Hands?

"Alright, first you'll need to add an exception for our ScryShare in the ward, so I'll need you to fallow my instructions closely---do you have a twig of yew?...yes, it needs to be yew, a sprig of rowan will not work. Yes, I can hold...

"...yes I'm still here, sir. Ok, now with the twig of yew in your left hand, turn sunwise until you are facing North-by-Northeast. Once you are facing that direction, rotate the twig withershins in an upright circle, thrice, turn sunwise until you 're facing West, then raise the twig two fists above your horizon and rotate the twig of yew twice withershins and thrice sunwise in an upright circle. Ok, do you have all that?....ok, why don't you tell it back to me, step by step...

"...Ok, good it sounds like you have the step, so for the Nor' by nor'east rotations, you need to focus on the image of our logo and 'Excellence in Customer Service'. Now, that's the *concept* of 'Excellence in Customer Service', _not_ the phrase. Now, on the westward rotations, you'll need to think of the code, which is the concept of remembering a mother's lullaby while watching a Spring sunset...

"...no a sunset in the spring-time...ok! I can see your ritual space now. Hm...I can see the center of the ritual markings, but I'm not seeing the spell-crystal?...No, sir, the spell Crystal needs to be in the center of the ritual area. Yes, the spell does indeed need to be discharged into the cropfield---this whole ritual needs to be set up in the center of the fallow field....then in that case you'll need a ritual for each field.

"No, I understand, sir, but there's nothing I can do about that. The spell's range is limited, you either need to order a custom-loaded crystal, or purchase as many standard crystals as you need to cover all of your fields. Would you like me to transfer you to Sales? Do you know who your Sales Rep is? yes, give me one moment and I'll transfer you."

"Hello, this is Kluunngoxt from Artifact Support? I have Eireien on the like for you, AID 221398. Of course, I'll transfer him now."

[call ends]

[yoitsjay]

Ner Cabur

Pairings: Tech x male Mando! Reader

Summary: you save tech from an unfortunate end, and spending time with him had become a luxury you didn't want to let go.

Warnings: season 3 spoilers ish, cannon violence, loose episode references, Tech fluffiness

Translations:

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - I love you

Ner Cabur- my guardian

Ner kar'ta- my heart

burc’ya- friend

Word count: 2,720

The stars streaked past as you piloted your sleek, battered lambda class T-4A shuttle through the endless expanse of space. The thumping bass of your favorite rock band pulsed through the cockpit, shaking loose a few forgotten crumbs from your last meal.

With a grin, you adjusted the controls, leaning back in your worn pilot’s chair. Your black and blue painted armor gleaned dully in the cockpit lights, reflecting the occasional flicker from the starry display. The rhythmic beats matched your heartbeat as you primed your ship for landing on the nearby planet’s spaceport, for some repairs and supplies

You checked your dwindling credit’s and winced. Just then however, a flicker of static interrupted the music. A message blinked into view from your transceiver. You clicked the answer button, sliding your helmet back on as you did so, leaning back in your seat as Saw Gerrerra popped up.

“Saw.” You greeted, but the man looked like pleasantries were way off the table. “We need you on Eriadu, I'm sending you the coordinates now with your mission details. Then com me and meet me at the rondevu.” He instructed before ending the call. You huffed, quickly taking the joysticks of your ship's center console, maneuvering out of the asteroids and into free space, typing in the coordinates that were sent before jumping into hyperspace.

When you had arrived at Eriadu you followed Gerrerra’s instructions, which were basically fly around and prepare for pickup. You were flying low, hiding your ship in the canyons surrounding the empire’s main base of operations. You had scrambled your ship's signature in order to sneak by the sensors, so they had no idea you were here.

You were flying slowly, hidden by the fog but still able to see where you were flying… and that was when you saw someone falling from the rail carts. Your eyes widened, and you quickly maneuvered your ship towards the falling figure, placing your ship in “float mode” as you ran out of the cockpit and down the ramp.

You had equipped your jet pack so you just flew straight out of the ship, plummeting down towards the falling man. Before he could hit the ground, you managed to catch him in your arms, the added weight making you stumble as you ran across the ground before sliding to a stop.

“Hey man, you good?” You asked once landed, the man still held in your arms as he looked at you, eyes wide in surprise. His helmet was strange, with goggles instead of a shielded visor. Eventually you put him down, and he stared at the ground, and then back at you.

“yes i-” The man paused, nodding again. “Thank you.” He added, and you nodded. “You with Saw Gerrera?” You asked, but he shook his head. “No- i’m here with my brothers… Do you perchance have a vessel?” The man asked, and you nodded. “Yeah. First you're gonna tell me your name, then we can figure out what to do next.” You teased me. The man nodded, removing his helmet.

He was quite cute, his hair forming soft curls against his forehead, a lighter brown that accentuated his amber eyes. He was around your height, if not a few inches shorter. “My name is Tech.” He introduced, and you nodded, slowly removing your helmet as well.

Tech’s eyes widened, but you didn’t notice. You also didn’t happen to notice the slight blush on his cheeks too. “My name is Y/n. Now I'm gonna have to carry you again.” You stated, winking at Tech before placing your helmet back on your head. Tech nodded and did the same, and you picked the man back up in your arms.

He wrapped his arms around your neck as one of your arms supported his back, the other his knees and you lifted off into the air, flying back through the ramp and cargo entrance before setting Tech down again as you landed on your feet. You closed the ramp and ran up to the cockpit, seeing a beeping transmission.

You answered it. taking the controls of your ship again as Tech sat in the seat beside you. “We need pickup Y/n! Where are you?” Saw shouted, and you huffed. “On my way, I had an unexpected pickup.” You answered, soaring out of the canyon and towards the rondevu point. You kept your ship hovering, lowering the ramp as Saw and the others entered.

You flew away, breaking through the atmosphere before setting coordinates to one of the rebel planets and jumping to hyperspace. You released the controls, setting your helmet down on the top of the console as you turned to Tech. “I gotta deal with them, then I can help you.” You explained, gesturing for him to stay put before you walked out of the cockpit and to the center room before your tiny sleeping areas.

“What happened?” You asked as you saw Saw, who looked stressed. “Clones happened, The Bad Batch more specifically.” He huffed, and you raised an eyebrow as he gave you a brief explanation. “Ah okay, well they are right you know.” you stated, and he glared at you.

You raised your hands in surrender, but continued. “They’re only going to re-establish their ranks, if you want to end this empire, you gotta take out bigger ideas. Like infantry units, training centers. Communications centers and command stations.” You listed, crossing your arms over your armored chest. “Anyway, all I'm saying is that killing officers will only halt progress for a little while. Then you’ll have to do it again, and again and you’ll never stop fighting.” You finished, waving at them to rest up as you walked back into the cockpit.

Tech stared up at you as you entered, having removed his helmet again. “I heard what you said… Those were my brothers he was talking about.” Tech stated, and you hummed. “So you're a clone? you don’t look like a clone.” You stated, seeing him smile a little bit before explaining that he and his brothers were an experimental enhanced unit made during the clone wars. Their DNA was twisted, and they came out much different.

Tech had superior smarts, amongst other things, but his brain was information central according to his brothers.

“I see, well that's quite cool.” You started with a grin. “I guess that almost makes you Mandalorian.” You joked, and Tech chuckled for a moment. “Not really, however, I appreciate the sentiment.” he stated.

Soon you dropped from hyperspace, and dropped Saw and his mercenaries off at their destination. You topped up on rations and fuel, and did a bit of repairs with Tech’s help before taking off again.

“So, you have a home Tech?” You asked him, almost feeling… disappointed that he was going to be leaving so soon.

“Yes, Pabu is where i… reside with my brothers.” He answered, and you nodded, putting in the coordinates, only to feel Tech’s hand on yours, stopping you for a moment.

“I know we have only been acquainted for a few hours, but I have enjoyed conversing with you. And I would love to learn more about your culture, discover more than what is in the datapad.” He paused, pursing his lips before he looked at you again. “What I am trying to say is, you saved my life. And I would like to spend more time with you.” He breathed out, almost expecting the hard reality of no, or a disgusted look.

But instead you smiled warmly, nodding. “I would love that Tech, thank you.” You beamed, and finished setting the coordinates before entering hyperspace. “Here, you can use my transceiver to contact your brothers and let them know you're alive. Keep an eye on the controls while I go make us some food.” You stated, pointing to your transceiver before you walked away.

When you had come back you noticed Tech was still talking with his brothers, who were all talking over each other as they argued. When they saw you however, they went quiet. The one who looked and held himself as a leader spoke up.

“You saved our brother, and we are so grateful. If you weren't there we- well, he would have died. So thank you, burc’ya” The man spoke up, using a word in your native tongue which made you smile. “It was no problem, truly. Tech has been an amazing company, and a good friend in this short time.” You expressed, and the man nodded.

“That's good to hear. See you soon. And Tech? never do that again.” The man stated before the transmission ended. You chuckled, handing Tech a bowl of Tiingilar, a hearty Mandalorian dish which Tech devoured.

It was about a standard rotation’s worth of hyperspace travel before you reached the island of Pabu. Since you were across the galaxy after dropping off Gerrera. Tech told you where to land, where you already saw quite a large welcoming party.

You landed, opening the ramp as you and Tech stood up, both your helmets under your arms as you walked up together. However as Tech scanned the area, he realized that one was missing.

“Where is Omega?” He asked, and the leader, whom Tech had told you was Hunter, frowned. “We went back to Ord mantell- and Cid she- she betrayed us to the empire. They took Omega.” Hunter explained.

Tech balled his hands into fists as he stared at the ground, shoulders sagging when he felt the warmth of your hand through his armor.

“Then we find her.” You spoke up, determination lacing your voice. “I have some contacts spying within the empire, I can ask around, acting like a bounty hunter in case it gets traced. Not like it will- but still-” you rambled for a moment, before pausing.

“This Omega, she's obviously a very important foundling, yes?” You asked, and Hunter raised his eyebrow foundling?” He asked, and you huffed, readying to explain.

“Yes, a young being abandoned by its parents, raised by others.” You explained simply. Hunter nodded. “yeah… she’s our sister.” Hunter stated, and you nodded. “There! even more of a reason we should find her yea?” You asked, nodding to yourself. “I'll get on it then, is there somewhere more secure to have my ship in the meantime?” You asked, and Tech rubbed his chin.

“Yes, there is a cave entrance where you can park.” He stated, and Hunter gawked. “What? when did that exist?” Wrecker spoke up with a shout. Tech sighed. “I thought it was obvious.” He started, looking over at you with a smile. “Thank you, for helping us.” He stated, grasping your hand in his own.

You nodded. “Of course Tech, it’s the right thing to do.” You stated, nodding to him once more before you released his hand and entered the ship, taking off to park your ship in a more secluded location.

There you scrambled your signature again before reaching out to your imperial contacts. There really wasn’t much in the way of where Omega could have been taken, or why. But there was talk of something called M-count, and a name. Tantiss.

So for weeks you worked alongside Tech and his brothers, hunting, searching and gaining intel, almost getting killed quite a few times, especially by living vines. Now that was exhilarating.

But almost all intel you and The Bad Batch had gathered had been of no use, there was nothing about Tantiss, barely anything about Hemlock either, the man who took omega in the first place. You could tell the brothers were starting to give up hope, traveling back through hyperspace when the comm’s suddenly went off.

It was Omega, and she had sent coordinates to meet her on one of the moons of Ryloth. It could’ve been a trap, but with you and Tech there, the chances of living were a lot better.

So you went, and watched as Omega embraced Tech and Wrecker, so relieved that Tech was alright. Hunter walked up to you, and you nodded to him, placing a hand on his shoulder as a form of comfort, watching as he walked down before running to meet omega, hugging her tightly.

The reunion was heartfelt, but you could feel tensions rising when a second person stepped out from the imperial ship, a taller man, bald with piercing eyes. Omega argued that he had changed, that he had been betrayed by the empire, But Tech, Hunter and Wrecker were still very much on edge.

You walked down the ramp, ready to aid them if need be.

You stood behind Tech, looming behind him as you turned to look at Crosshair. Your helmet was on, but despite that it looked as if his eyes met yours. You saw the hurt, the guilt and regret in his eyes, and you removed your hand from where it was resting on your blaster.

“We need to leave, before the Empire shows up.” You stated, and walked back to the Marauder with Tech on your heels as his hand once again found yours. Hand holding has become a form of comfort between you and Tech these past weeks. And you found yourself feeling more for him than just friendship.

But now wasn’t the right time, and you both knew that.

But soon, Omega and Crosshair were back on Pabu, and the whole bad batch was reunited it seemed, as Echo was waiting on Pabu for them, for Crosshair’s information more specifically.

While they talked, you felt a tug on your poncho, which you had started wearing more recently after finding it in a Pabu stall.

You looked down, noticing the young girl, Omega, smiling at you. “So are you Tech’s boyfriend?” She asked, and you let out a choked sound, glancing over at Tech who seemed to have the same reaction.

You knelt down, removing your helmet as you stared at her. “No young one… but would I have your blessing if I wanted him to be?” You asked quietly, and she squealed in excitement. “Yes! of course!” Sh exclaimed, and you chuckled, looking over at Tech with a smile before standing up again.

So much more had happened after this, Omega was taken again, and everyone was devastated, including you, since you had grown to care for the young girl during the calm before the storm.

After Omega was taken, you had been relieved to have hidden your ship elsewhere, since the Marauder had been destroyed. You had to move some stuff around, but you had made the addition of four other people work, especially since you and Tech started sharing a room.

Getting Omega back was the only thing on all of your minds, but that didn’t stop the light touches, the hand holding. You didn’t complain when Tech would slip into your quarters after enjoying a meal with his brothers, and he would relax into your embrace before falling asleep.

Echo had joined up in your efforts when you had actually located Tantiss. You had left your ship at one of the clone rebels' bases, and piloted an imperial ship instead, in order to sneak into Tantiss. Omega was smart enough to break herself out, but during that time you and the other batchers, including Tech, had gotten separated.

You were with Echo and a new addition, Emerie, when you hid against a wall as clones and troopers walked by, and your eyes widened when you saw Crosshair, Wrecker and Tech’s unconscious bodies being carried away.

After that you fought like hell until everyone was safe. Even Hunter couldn’t deny that you were a ruthless warrior, even before you snapped you were incredible.

But Tantiss was destroyed at the end, The Bad Batch reunited, and you had decided to settle down on Pabu, your’s and Tech’s growing relationship finally able to blossom. You had taught the younger clones on the island all about Mandalorian traditions, and it felt like you had started your own clan on Pabu. Clan 99 you had joked.

But in reality these men had become your family. And Tech would stand beside you through it all.

“Ner cabur.” Tech whispered into your chest as you laid with him, you smiled, kissing the top of his head.

“Ner kar’ta, Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum”

➺

Tag list:

Tech tag:

Tbb:

@moomoog017 @only-my-unexistent-fiances

[dangerousartisanwerewolf]

To All Americans doom scrolling Tumblr right now:

First and foremost I am so sorry for all of you guys. You all did your part but hatred seems to have unfortunately won. I am also incredibly disheartened for all of you and for once in my life I honestly don't know what to say (which is odd for me lol).

Just know

That you did your part. You voted and did your part and that's all you can do.

It's not your fault. Period. Not to sound defeatist but one vote will not decide the fate of an entire election

Life will go on and we will keep on living. I know it doesn't seem like it right now but we will keep going and we will keep living our lives.

Things will get better, it maybe doesnt seem like it right now but things will ger better

I have sadly seen many people on here talk about killing themselves or pleading others to stay alive. As sad as that notion is, it is a very real concern for many now.

As many others have mentioned: PLEASE DON'T KILL YOURSELF OR RELAPSE IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM OVER THE ELECTION RESULTS!!!!!!!!! I know it may feel hopeless and like there is nothing else you can do but please don't. I mentioned many things you can do to distract yourself in a previous post if you want to look.

There are many $u1c1d3 hotlines and other mental health resources available you can access. Please do if you feel like you need to

List of hotlines/ help resources to call/talk to:

Sorry I can't link anything because I am not tech savy but hopefully a list is useful too. Got most of these off of instagram so maybe you'll see the posts circulating around. Keep in mind I am a minor who does not live in the U.S so if these are not the most helpful don't flame me.

LQBTQ Resources:

The 988 lifeline- 988lifeline.org (Call,text, or chat)

The Trevor project- thetrevorproject.org/get-help (24/7 crisis counselling)

SAGE x Hearme-sageusa.org/hearme (On demand mental wellness app)

LGBTQ center directory- lgbtqcenters.org/LGBTCENTERS (Centre directory, find one near you)

PFLAG- pflag.org/findachapter (Find a chapter near you)

QChat space-qchatspace.org (Online Lgbtq community for teens)

Suicide/crisis hotline

Dial 988 or visit 988lifeline.org

Warm lines that don't call the police:

Call blackline- 800-604-5841 (Centre's BIPOC, LGBTQ, Black femme lens)

Trans lifeline-877-585-8660 (U.S number) Canada has one of these too if you need it

Wildflower alliance peer support line- 888-407-4515 (Trained peer supporters

Strong hearts Native helpline- 844-762-8483

Thrive lifeline- 313622-8209 (Trans led and operated)

LGBTQ national help center- 888-843-4564

Hope that helps

Other easy ways to take care of your mental health:

Take a social media break/hiatus

Hang out with friends or family

Get out in nature (Go for a hike, bike ride ect)

distract yourself with comfort media

read

do something creative

practice a hobby

I already have a post with a pretty extensive list of stuff you can do to distract/cope if you need any ideas. I'm not going to copy it all out but its just a little down from this post in my account if you scroll.

Above all please stay safe:

Many have mentioned this but make sure you stay safe too, especially if you are in a red state where people may be looking for an opportunity. As fucked up as it feels to even type this out:

Scrub your socials of anything that may "Give you away" if you feel you need to

If you know someone who is queer, trans, poor, pregnant, an immigrant, needing an abortion, getting an abortion done, or anything that could make living dangerous to them- no you don't. try and keep loved ones safe if you can

Don't out yourself for being any of the above things if you can help it

Don't engage in politics talk with people if you can help it. If someone asks what party you supported don't tell them, they may just be looking for information they can use

One last reminder:

Please remember to:

Eat regular meals/remember to eat at all

Drink water

Take screen breaks (As it will hurt your eyes and give you a headache)

Go to sleep at a regular time

don't bed rot all day

don't doom scroll election content all day

turn off the news at some point, its not healthy to sit and watch the news all day

get out in nature/step outside and touch grass and get some fresh air if you can

talk to your loved ones and seek support if you need

get off social media for a bit (Even if you say all day social media doesnt make a difference to you I know it does)

make sure to take it easy today if you can, take care of your mental health and I hope that everything will be alright for you guys. Stay safe out there

[temporalhiccup]

I'm trying to write about this without getting emotional, but it's pretty hard! Hah!

But it's been officially announced so I can finally talk about it! I'm the Lead Designer (damn) on the official Tomb Raider TTRPG (double damn). Shadows of Truth has a public playtest coming up soon, and I'm excited for folks to see what we've been working on!

It's been a wild ride and a fun time, but this is also the biggest challenge I've had to face as a ttrpg designer. Like many indie folks I've drawn inspiration from the media we love (Apocalypse Keys is proudly Hellboy-inspired, among other things!) while still making it our own unique thing.

Tomb Raider has been completely different, in that I have to do my best to translate some awesome video game history into a ttrpg experience. And I gotta be as true to the source material and experience as possible, while still centering what makes ttrpgs great!

Tomb Raider is also a franchise that's been around for almost 30 years and is a HUGE DEAL. It's hard to describe how much of an impact it's made on action-adventure video games, repeatedly! Lara Croft is easily one of the most iconic characters in video games and the genre, and her Adventures include (several) dinosaurs, wild transhuman demonic Atlantean stuff, and apocalypse-inducing artifacts.

But Lara to me, especially since the 2013 game, has been a truly amazing and conflicted heroine. The last three games that grounded her and made her vulnerable, while still creating intense experiences, really hooked me. I really wanted to honor the journey of Tomb Raider and make a really fun and thrilling ttrpg for folks.

But anyone who knows me, knows that anti-colonial design is in all my games. It's just who I am, and it's not something I consciously did at first. It wasn't even until I started designing ttrpgs, in my 30s, that I realized how important my personal decolonization process was, and a lot of that has helped me discover new aspects of my identity (including being a transmasculine person).

So, I don't need to tell you that a franchise called Tomb Raider has some colonial implications, right?

As development goes on, folks have asked me "How is the game anti-colonial?" or "How are you addressing the colonialism?" I want to start off by saying as a team we conceptualized what that could mean while still being true to the franchise. But since then, as Lead Designer, I've had to make hundreds of decisions that are reflected in countless design and structural choices. I can point to dozens of mechanics and things and describe how this is my personal attempt to present anti-colonial gaming, and I'm grateful for the help our team of consultants and playtesters in guiding me.

It's kind of wild, but in chasing after and reaching for anti-colonial design, I've had to figure out how to implement great tech from other designers, but also come up with lots of new stuff too. There's some really cool Adventure design stuff that is really hard to pull off in a PbtA framework where you play to find out. (Arguably, PbtA itself has a lot of anti-colonial play about it compared to mainstream ttrpgs and it's one of the reasons we used PbtA as a design framework but that's a whole other conversation)

I'm really so grateful for the support from the team! It's hard to feel like I'm good enough and can measure up to Evil Hat's faith in me, but they've been incredibly supportive and open, and it's been stellar. Crystal Dynamics has also been amazing to work with, especially because it was important to me that while we honor how awesome Tomb Raider is, we don't downplay the difficult truths of colonialism and its ongoing effects. And they were so incredibly on board for that! It's so rare for a marginalized person like me to be granted an opportunity like this, and I am determined to give it my all.

We've built a team that's been amazing to collaborate with, and @ostrichmonkey-games has been doing incredible work alongside me. I'm really proud of what we're doing as a team! I can't wait for folks to see it come together.

You can also check out the Polygon (!!!) article about the game, which gives you a sense of some of the cool mechanics at play!

I know it's easy to write off an IP ttrpg based on a really big franchise (and for good reasons, unfortunately). But I really do think we're doing something special here! I hope y'all will give the game a chance and check it out when the public playtest starts up!

[kickthecan-revolution]

I decided to walk the hour and 20m to my radiation consult - this is the first appointment where they do a bunch of scans and tattoo where the lasers go. The walk ended up only taking about an hour or so, it brought me through downtown SF (the TC Disrupt conference reminds me of the show Silicon Valley). After that, the Tenderloin, a spot in San Francisco that makes the news a lot for the unhoused residents and drug use. I’m not scared by any of that - I find it kind of fascinating to look people in their eyes and the stories their faces tell, sometimes it’s terribly sad- sometimes dark and sinister, and sometimes just your average person walking down the street. I also love the art in the neighborhood and all of the support, I walked by two volunteer efforts to ensure those who live there have resources they need. Sometimes it shocks me how people just stay alive for so long after so much trauma and abuse - what resiliency.

These driverless Waymo cars are such a thing in this city now. I’ve yet to take one but might try soon.

I loved walking by the theater Great American Music Hall where BND took me to hear Mark Kozelek for the first time. And how cool are the street signs as you get closer to a larger Asian neighborhood.

I arrived and screwed up the COVID protocol I was supposed to follow, when I got there, the nurse gave me directions while I had COVID and I totally misunderstood, so the techs were irritated. And I get it, they are dealing with very fragile people in the waiting room. So they set the room up with this massive ventilator and masked up pretty intensely while I profusely apologized for the hassle I caused.

I laid down and they said I was going to have to hold my breath for 20 seconds. For some reason, this panicked me, I still cough when I take a deep breath and I wasn’t sure if I could do it. They got me arranged and I had this MRI flashback and just suddenly burst into tears. I’ve no idea where it came from but I couldn’t stop, apologizing again. They were so kind and just reassured me that this is a lot. I appreciated their kindness.

We got started and my back started spasming in the machine a little bit but I was able to still hold still. I just kept my eyes closed the whole time and they helped me practice the breathing, and I did fine. We ended it and the technician who was initially annoyed walked me out and through the whole process - where I check in next time and even what color gown would be best for me. He said they are taking extra precautions with COVID because it’s taking people so long to recover from it, which made me feel better. He gave my arm a little pat and I thanked him again for how nice he was.

I went to the lobby and just started shaking. I sent a voice memo to my sister who already had an intense appointment with her oncologist today (it was positive but hard for her to take in). I felt nauseous and shaky and all of the sudden, really cold and hungry so I called an Uber and while I waited, ordered some pasta I knew would be home when I got there. I love Door Dash so much. I crawled under the covers and ate a little, and now I’m feeling a little more centered. I really want to nap but I’m going to try to stay up so I can sleep well tonight.

I’ll be finished with the radiation on December 03. My current plan is to walk there for exercise, and then Lyft home or maybe even walk home, we’ll see. The weather is getting colder but my intuition is telling me I need to start exercising for my mental health and overall wellbeing, so that’s the plan. I start next Monday, how wild. The appointments are 15m long vs an hour so I’ll be in and out. I hope it goes by quickly.

I’ve been meditating a lot on strength just finding us when we need it, and my friend Ashley sent me this today. It hung on the office wall of her radiation lobby. The Universe is in front of me, behind me, to my left and to my right. I’m held in Love. I can do this.

[hlficlibrary]

HL Fic Library 🌸 Short Fics

(Part One - Under 5k)

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

🌸 Stealing Flowers by @lululawrence {NR, 4k}

When Louis finally arrived, he walked in and grabbed an apron. Without even saying hello, he immediately approached Jesy and said, “Sexy Stranger steals flowers.”

She kept pouring the Tanqueray shots she had lined up in front of her, but her face screwed up in confusion. “I’m sorry, he what? Did you finally talk to him and that was what you learned?”

He nodded to another couple of tourists and welcomed them to the Way Station as they eagerly made their way to the Tardis restroom.

“No, I didn’t actually talk to him, but—”

“Then how do you know he steals flowers?”

She was wiping down the bar and stacking the empty glasses to take back to the dishwasher when Louis realized maybe he should help too. After all, he was there to work, not just talk to her about his maybe crush.

“I saw a poster.”

Or the one where Louis pines after the Sexy Stranger on the Subway and almost asks him out. That's when the strange posters start showing up around Brooklyn.

🌸 More in these bones by SunTomato / @sun-tomato {NR, 4k}

"This isn't a social call, is it, Curly?" Harry's gaze drops to the floor. "No." Harry takes a deep breath, fists clenching at his side, before he looks up again. His eyes meet Louis’ with a mix of fear and determination. "I want to make a deal."

OR The one where demon Louis really doesn't want Harry to trade away his soul, even if he can't explain why.

🌸 Tech Support (series) by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {G, 4k}

Harry calls the HP customer service line very late at night expecting to get redirected to a call center far away. Instead, the person on the other end of the line is a little closer to home.

🌸 cursing the cosmos by @hogwartzlou {NR, 4k}

In a world where people have timers counting down to when they meet their soulmate, finding love is easy. Harry meets Louis in a coffee shop one day. They slowly fall in love, the only thing holding them back is that they aren't soulmates.

🌸 you and I love like it's a secret  by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed {T, 4k}

Louis swallows, looking at Harry, who grins at him as though nothing’s wrong. He’s leaning against the door of a wardrobe, his long hair having lost some of its curls due to the amount of times he’s run his fingers through it. Louis is still where he was the moment the door got closed behind them, all but pressed up against the wood, trying to keep as much distance between him and Harry as possible.

His heart stutters in his chest as he looks up at his best friend. He’s known Harry since he was barely out of diapers, and Harry gets him in a way that few people ever have – or have tried to. He knows him, to the point where sometimes Louis worries that he’s able to read his mind.

Or: It's Seven minutes in Heaven, but Louis sort of feels like he's ended up in Hell instead when he's forced into a small bedroom with his childhood best friend slash long time crush.

🌸 they’re laughin’ and drinkin’ and havin’ a party by  4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou {G, 4k}

When Louis decides he has to get away, he chooses the next best town in Texas, as far away from his ex as he can get. The real estate agent tells him it’s a quiet neighborhood, yet somehow the sound of a champagne bottle popping from two doors down followed by the roar of a party, sends him spiraling. That is, until a deep voice calls out a tentative “heey” from the darkness.

🌸 The Hidden Hills Restaurant  by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose {E, 4k}

“Are you sure you want to hear about this? Wouldn’t you rather hear about what I’ll do to you? How often? How long? How many fin—“

“I like to get to know my potential clients before agreeing to anything,” Louis says and lays down the menu. He’s thinking of steak. Something meaty, juicy, and hearty.

Harry’s arched eyebrow at the word ‘potential’ doesn’t escape Louis’ notice.

or the one where Louis is a personal feeder and Harry is the vampire to be his next client

🌸 Into Always by @jaerie {E, 4k}

Harry finds his ex's knotting dildo and gets a little curious. Louis is more than willing to help out.

🌸 Fakes (Streaming Live) by @allwaswell16 {E, 4k}

Alpha camboy Henry Steel has a rather unfortunate crush on omega camboy Luscious Lucas. He also has a rather unfortunate secret that's about to be revealed.

🌸 Heels Over Head by @kingsofeverything {E, 3k}

Louis Tomlinson returns from tour to find that his new next door neighbor doesn't realize his backyard is not completely private.

🌸 No One But You Got Me Feeling This Way by @runaway-train-works​ / runaway_train {E, 3k}

Harry is well aware he should be studying or watching T.V or cleaning the kitchen or doing literally anything from a list as long as his arm instead of this, but he is. The list of reasons why he shouldn’t be doing this is probably at least double that, but here he most definitely is. He’s sitting on his bed, legs straight out in front of him, back propped up against the headboard and some fluffed-up pillows and his MacBook is resting on his thighs. His jittery fingers drum lightly on the edge of the keyboard as he stares at the tiny digital clock in the top right-hand corner of the screen, willing the seconds to tick by faster. He wants to get into this and get it over with in equal measures.

Or The one where Harry has a particular desire that only Louis can fulfill.

🌸 nobody knows like me by enbyharry / @non-binharry {G, 3k}

Harry does his best to cope with a secret life in the summer of '74.

🌸 Gonna Dress You Up In My Love by @fallinglikethis {T, 3k}

Harry decides to take up knitting. He's horrible at it. Louis wears everything anyway.

🌸 the most fantastic things by bluegreenish / @greenblueish {G, 2k}

When he reads a fairy tale today, and it’s one about love, Harry will find himself in it. Because in all the fairy tales about love that exist in the world, he knows that a little part of Louis and him is written in between the letters, hidden between every page that curious fingers turn.

or, Harry's version of the fairy tale Thumbelina, minus marrying toads or moles, plus waxing poetic about Louis.

🌸 as we move slowly by snsk / @snsknene {G, 2k}

"You know what color your wings are?" Harry asked conversationally, on his stomach at the tattoo parlor, while Louis played absentmindedly with one dangling hand and flipped through some designs.

// Alternatively: Louis grows wings. Harry is the only one who can see them.

🌸 maybe by @gaycousinlarry / momentofclarity {G, 2k}

I cannot not see you again. I cannot.

🌸 On the Go by @phdmama {T, 2k}

louis owns a landscaping company called MANSCAPE and harry thinks it’s some sort of in-home pubic hair grooming company

🌸 Check, Check, Checkmate  by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense {E, 2k}

Harry and Louis play chess... until another game becomes more interesting.

🌸 Zoey by @wabadabadaba {G, 2k}

Harry knew his first name, but he liked the way Dr. Tomlinson sounded more. Harry watched as Louis unclasped her harness and set it aside and pet her back and under her chin. Louis kissed the top of her head and murmured sweet nothings to her- mostly about how pretty she is and how well behaved she is. Harry wished it was him.

or Harry has a huge crush on his cat's veterinarian and finally decides to do something about it.

🌸 What About Tonight by @taggiecb {G, 2k}

Louis loves his new career. It might just be killing him, but he loves it. What he doesn't love is how easily the boy he cares most about seems to move in and out of his life.

🌸 you don't have to wear (your best fake smile) by coffeelouis {T, 2k}

When Harry was 12, he moved to Holmes Chapel and broke up with his first boyfriend.

When Harry was 20, he sat next to said boyfriend in class, and although he continues to wear Harry's parting gift of his beloved Manchester United sweatshirt every goddamn day, does not seem to remember Harry at all.

🌸  Moon Dances Over by LadyLondonderry /  @londonfoginacup {G, 2k}

Louis knows that his tail is, frankly, stunning. His iridescent blue scales shimmer in even the slightest sunlight, and his fins have grown since he presented, delicate and almost transparent in their webbing.

He also knows that that means he’ll be one of the first to pick tonight, as the most beautiful omegas are blessed to pick their mates first. It’s considered a huge honour, since the guppies they’ll eventually birth will certainly be beautiful as well, bringing favour on the whole clan.

Louis has a stubborn streak, though. He’s always been rather a fan of mating for love, and there’s someone he’s had his eye on for a long time now.

🌸 an honest mistake  by @disgruntledkittenface {NR, 2k}

“You look different when you’re not covered in come,” he blurts out, immediately regretting each and every life choice that has led to this exact moment. Elevator Guy is going to hate him.

Louis has ridden the elevator with his neighbor all week. The first time they speak, there’s a misunderstanding.

🌸 Stole My Heart by @haztobegood {NR, 2k}

“Oh my god, Niall.” The door slams shut as Harry rushes into the flat. He’s still panting from his rush to get away from the scene of his crime. “You won’t believe what just happened!”

Niall is sitting on the couch in their tiny living room. He looks up from his laptop. “What happened?”

“The worst thing. I’ll never recover. I just reached into a box of free samples outside that new chicken restaurant. Only it wasn’t free samples. It was a man. Holding a box of chicken nuggets. His chicken nuggets. I stole this man’s food, Niall!”

🌸 Simply the Nest (Better Than All the Rest) by @homosociallyyours {G, 2k}

It's been a few months since Louis moved to a new town, and he still hasn't managed to get his nest to feel as comforting as he'd like it to. When his therapist suggests he might need some new materials, he's willing to give it a shot. Wandering into Harry's nesting store turns out to be just what he needed.

🌸 the prettiest customer (and the cutest barista) by fearsparks / @onlythebravest {G, 1k}

“So there’s this guy,” Harry repeated. “And I really like him.”

“Is he cute?”

“The cutest,” Harry said with a bright smile, turning around to face Louis. His cheeks felt warm, but he ignored it, pushed past it. “Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

“Ooh, tell me more.” Louis rested his head in his hand.

(Louis is the pretty customer that comes in and orders hot chocolate while Harry is the cute barista that takes his order.)

🌸 A+ Patient by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf {G, 1k}

Harry hated everything about the dentist—the antiseptic smell and the bright light in his face and the disappointment in himself and the suction thingy that kept his mouth too dry. But the thing he hated the most was how in love with his dentist he was.

🌸 Needle by @nouies {NR, 666 words}

“You didn’t deserve this,” he muttered between hiccups. “She didn’t have the right.”

🌸 there’s a house in english bond (somebody planned to stay) by @muldxr {T, 666 words}

The Hotel dates back to the mid-17th century, and the owners have invested dearly to make it a home away from home. Please mind our building rules written below in order to have an exceptional stay.

🌸 Swings Said by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright {T, 500 words}

A love story told by five swings who each were there to see a piece of it unfold.

[abronzeagegod]

Eldritch Tech Support 4

more eldritch tech support stories

Today was a slow day for you. You didn't have much work come in, and you're just hanging out in the call center waiting for one of the field techs to call you with a problem. So far, you haven't had anything to do really. Some minor problems, nothing too complicated. It's been a good day to do nothing and get paid.

Then you get the call.

"How can I-" you start but are immediately cut off by very loud yelling.

"IT'S LYTHA!" your coworker yells on the line. Normally you'd have to go through security and employee ID numbers and job listings and stuff, but this sounds bad. "I NEED YOU TO CALL EXTERMINATORS! FUCK FUCK FUCK! THERE'S A SPIDER WITH SEVEN HEADS AND IT'S VERY MAD!"

You swear out loud, and slap the red alarm button.

The red light flashes over your desk and you can tell the call center has gone utterly silent as all non-job related tasks immediately stop.

You keep Lytha's line open as you quickly call up her jobs. She's currently on a job out in the Clutches.

"Employee needs exterminators," you say into a second line that opened the moment you pushed the button. "Employee 1419 is on site at 311 North Vellaturine, in the Clutches. Reports of multiheaded spiders-"

"FUCKING SHIT! I THINK THERE'S SOME TENTACLE THING HERE TOO!" Lytha yelled over the phone loud enough to be heard across the silent room. "MY GUESS IS SOMETHING FROM THE VOID AND ONE OF THE HELLS ARE HERE AND THEY'RE FIGHTING OR FUCKING OR BOTH!"

You repeat, with less color commentary, what Lytha reported to the Exterminators.

The Exterminator's operator acknowledged what you were saying. "Understood. Class One operation approved, Exterminators are en route to your location. Be advised heavy weaponry has been approved, as has magic. Please inform anyone in the building to evacuate immediately, police have been informed."

"Lytha!" you say to your coworker. "Lytha! The Exterminators are coming! Get out of there!"

"I'M FUCKING TRYING BUT ALL THE DOORS LEAD TO OTHER DIMENSIONS!"

"Oh... shit," you say. You repeat this to the Exterminators who do something that you never thought you'd live to hear.

"Oh fuck."

The Exterminators are the badasses of the tech world, fixing creatures and beings and banishing things that shouldn't be here. To have them be worried, that chills you to your soul and spine.

"Be advised, we have a level zero breach," the operator said. "Repeat, be advised we have a level zero breach."

You're dimly aware of the fact that there is no movement, no sound in the call center. Everyone is listening to your conversation without breathing or speaking.

"We are sending in the Knight of Doors," the operator said. "We're doing our best to get there as fast as possible. Do whatever you can to keep your people alive and safe."

Your boss was standing behind you and didn't even notice until she started yelling. "Kel! You did that job for the Chaos Seekers last month, get them on the phone and ask for a Blessing Against the Chaos for Lytha!" Their other head turned and pointed at another tech support person. "Devin! Find out if that war demon we helped a few months back is willing to offer a War Boon to our people!" You then feel a hand on your shoulder. You boss turns to you. "Do your best, and if you have a favorite god now is a good time."

A flurry of activity exploded into the tech center. People started calling up friends, clients, and even a few rivals to see if there was something that they could do to help out their coworker.

But all of that cut out when Lytha screamed over the phone, a scream that sounded bad.

"OH FUCK!"

"Help is coming, Lytha!" you say instantly into the phone, trying to remain somewhat calm and stamp down on the tremor and fear in the voice. "The Knight of Doors is coming!"

"Oh that's good," Lytha says with lots of hard breathing. "I'll have something attractive to look at as I go out and a nice voice in my ear."

"Don't do that," you scold. "Don't be fatalistic!" Your trying to fight back the emotions.

"We had some good times. The chaos of this whole thing is really quite interesting if you think about it. And this will be an excellent story to tell later."

Your boss touches your shoulder again. "It's ok," she whispers with one mouth, "the Chaos Seekers gave Lytha a blessing, but it comes with some... side effects. Like being a bit too into the whole 'Abyss is beautiful and deserves our respect and admiration' thing. She's not actively dying."

"Oh, thank fuck," you mutter. You focus back on Lytha, "Well you'll just have to tell me all about it over several drinks later."

"Advisement, Exterminators are on scene. Police ETA 3 minutes. Knight of Doors is Traveling," chimes in the operator.

There's the sounds of crashing and fighting on the line from Lytha.

"Holy shit," Lytha breathes out in reverential awe. "The Knight is something else."

The sounds from the phone are impossible to describe. The sounds of combat and chaos and hell and the magic of the Exterminators combine with more conventional sounds of weapons fire.

"Asset retrieved," said a deep and dark voice that you feel in your bones. "We are traveling to safety."

Suddenly Lytha's line went dead.

The call center has gone entirely silent once again.

The moment of silence is interrupted when a shining door suddenly appears next to your desk. The door was massive, easily 10 feet tall and 5 feet wide and made of a color that you can't quite fathom but your brain manages as "blue?"

The blue? door opens and out walks Lytha, covered in slime and blood followed by the Knight of Doors. They barely fit through their own door.

Contrary to the name the Knight wears almost no armor, but their skin looks like it could be an armor of its own. Dark, smooth, but sharp rock-like armor covers their body. They clear have some lineage directly connected to the Children of the Earth. The Knight was big in every way and extremely attractive with a massive sword and battle axe on their back.

"There you are," says the deep but soft voice of the Knight that covered you like warm molasses. "You are safe now. You should seek medical attention. I shall return to the battle."

"Thank you," Lytha says with a little smile.

"Wow," you say, stunned.

The Knight nods and walks through their blue? door once again.

Your boss heaves a heavy sigh of relief. "Ok, everyone! Take a twenty minute break, get your legs back, and then we really should return to work." Then your boss turns to you, "Take Lytha and get her to a hospital."

You nod and take Lytha's hand and pull her towards the exit and the hospital.

---

Three days later, the Exterminators and the police manage to contain the situation.

It turned out that Lytha was called in to clean off the viruses on the computer used by a den of drug dealers who were cooking some very illegal drugs, the kind of drugs that require ingredients from the Abyss.

The drug makers, being incredibly intelligent, made deals with devils to get the ingredients which resulted in the turf war between one of the numerous hells and the Abyss.

Then Lytha was called because several members of the drug dealers had a laptop that they used to go to many suspicious and shady websites.

Lytha was fine, she suffered a few injuries that required many large needles to inject her with various antibodies and such. She had to spend only two nights in the hospital but only for observation. You stayed the entire time.

if you liked this let me know, maybe consider buying me a kofi, i'd appreciate it very much

[iwanttobepersephone]

One thing about me is that I can make a sales pitch to ANYONE, and if I can't make a sales pitch then I get as much information as I can and try again and then it works. This has, for most of my life, been pretty useless. Today, it has been incredibly useful

So, I go a place called "the teen center" after school. Apparently in other places teen centers are a novel concept but I promise you it's exactly what it says it is. The teen center I go to has a sewing machine, 3 to be exact

Sewing machine 1 is incredibly modern and new, but nobody knows how to use it. Sewing machine 2 seems to work fine, but nobody can figure out how to thread it properly. Sewing machine 3 was the go to, it worked and we could use it. But today, it broke

I spent 1 and a half hours watching 4 people try and fail to fix it, and 1 and a half hours on call with @iwanttobepheonix (who was amazing emergency tech support btw) trying to figure out what was even wrong in the first place. The only thing I knew was that it worked when I first set it up, did one stitch, and then the needle stopped moving. Refused to move up, refused to move down.

Finally, we figured out that a gear had fallen out of place. The mechanisms to move the sewing needle couldn't work without the gear. But, I can't reach it myself. Now we need a mechanic for sewing machines. Phoenix's aunt has a business card for some that specialize in sewing machines, so that gets taken care of pretty quickly.

Now I need to make a sales pitch

I can't take this sewing machine to the craft mall without permission from the teen center, and I also don't have the funds to pay for it. So, I need to convince the manager of the teen center, the mysterious Kaylee who I've only talked to once, to approve this machine to get repaired. Okay, that's not too difficult to do. It'll be pretty easy to show her the need for the repair, what won't be easy is getting it to fit the budget. But, I've done this much work, so I might as well try it.

Success! I talk to Kaylee, and she tells me that if I call the number on the card tomorrow and get a quote, she will see what she can do to get it repaired. She seems reserved but not at all apprehensive about this, so it's clearly something she's willing to do provided the price is reasonable.

So, tomorrow, I have another sales pitch to make. My goal is to hopefully tug on our pals Paul and Sam's (the mechanics) heart strings and get them to donate their time. The fix seems to be pretty simple, I can see where the gear is loose and everything else is in wonderful condition, so I can't imagine it will cost much anyways. Besides, apparently, I'm really good at making sales pitches

[hunted-moth]

Forest Of Dreams PT5: New Friends

Neytiri x FemReader

Wordcount // 3k

Summary // When Jake is caught giving information to Quaritch, it results in them relocating

Warning // Language, seeds of betrayal, smoking, but mostly just fluff

A/N //This is just y/n getting herself familiar with Home Tree and stuff idk it's short btw

Speaking Na’vi

‘Thoughts’

*whispering*

*mini time skip, like a small location change

“She said there's like a spiral in the center of the tree, adding a base support, so if you want to hit it you're gonna need heavy-duty stuff” Jake tried to describe what you told him the best he could “Umm she also said that there was also like base columns, a few in fact and that they build upon it to so its probably more enforced to” he added more to the description

“Hmm, we’ll need accurate scans of it, talk to your sister about getting some” Quaritch stated. these little meeting has been going on for about a week, ever since you got back from your first expedition, it's how Selfridge found out in fact.

Of course, Jake thought it was for the greater good anyway. Didn't affect him at all so why care, plus he could get money out of this, to support him and you when you get back home, he could help with any debts you have and get his legs back as per his, and Quaritch's agreement.

“And that's all I got for you Sir” Jake turned his body to face his superior “That’ll do son, thank you. Take care now tell your sister to stay safe out there” Jake went to back out from the conversation as the meeting went onto a different subject

But throughout this interaction, they didn't see that someone was listening in on them. Before they could notice, they were gone

As Jake was leaving Quaritch stopped him “Oh and Jake, dont be afraid to snoop in her diaries log things, to get as much information as possible, in fact just send them to me” Quaritch placed his hand on his shoulder before letting him go

*

“Umm Grace, I've got some news for you” Grace looked up from her desk “You're not gonna like it though” She looked at him confused “Did someone die?” Max’s face grimaced at the response

“No, but your gonna want him dead,” Grace put her papers down, giving her full attention to Max “I just saw Jake and Quaritch talking, about home tree” If looks could kill Max would be at the crematorium by now “now let's think about this, if we get rid of Jake Y/n might get mad and drop the whole thing and go back to being a normal geologist” ”

Grace seemed to think about it for a second, then sighed “Then what do we do?” she began to light a cigarette from the sudden stress “Let's go off base, take away Jake's direct line to Y/n” She took her first puff

“Well what if they do video calls” she countered “Just take Jake with you where ever you go, you could still use him as a security escort on your expeditions” She took a long drag of her cigarette, before exhaling it “Hmm you make a good point Max, but where should we go is the question” max seemed to think for a moment “what about site 26, dont think it's in use right now”

She nodded her head “Yeah that’ll do, go and fetch the trio, I'm sure Norm will be excited” Grace grinned a little

*

As you and Jake walked into the lab with some clothes packed, you could see some lab techs pack stuff like supplies and food.

“So where are we going,” Jake asked “Getting out of heck out of dodge, not about to let Selfridge and Quaritch micro-manage us” When Grace mentioned Selfriged you looked around out of guilt, as did Jake but you didn't notice it

“There's a mobile link up at site 26 we can work out of, way up in the mountains” She walked away to pack some other thing, Norm popped his head up when he heard the news, you can't blame him though, cause you were excited to.

“The Hallelujah mountains?” he walked over to her “That’s right,” he turned to you both “Are you serious!” you asked Grace with eyes so full of excitement “Yep” it was a simple word but it brought joy to you and Norms little life

Jake looked confused and looked to Norm and you for answers “The legendary floating mountains of pandora, how have you not heard of them?” you rolled your eyes “Tits as he says, floating mountains caused by the UBH-310, unobtanium, natural magnetic forces”

you explained “And guess which profession figured that out, that's right geologist!” you had a stupid smirk on your face while you pointed to your self “You act as if you discovered it” Grace butted in your conversation “Can I not feel a little pride for my profession” you sulked at her comment, it made Jake smirk though enjoying your little act as you all walked away to head out

[LOCATION- FLOATING MOUNTAINS/SITE 26]

The Sampson flew over the Pandora forest, but instead of trying to get down there, Trudy flew you all upwards. Grace, Jake, and Norm's avatars were in the main body while the rest of you were in the cab, Norm next to Trudy this time

“Were getting close” Grace told the three of you “Yeah my instruments are going crazy” she pointed to the dials and stabilizer of the Sampson which were, in fact, going crazy “Yep, we're in the flux vortex now kiddos” You looked out a window to see nothing but clouds “yep, were VFR from now on”

Norm looked at her “whats VFR?” she cracked a smile “means gotta see where your going” Norm looked confused “Can't see anything” “Ain’t that a bitch”, he was right, all you could see were more clouds, thicker and denser than before, they were like a storm cloud

But the more you flew into the clouds, the more you could see the floating mountains. Your mouth was agape, you had seen photos, even videos, but to see it in real life, it's indescribably beautiful.

“Ha, you should see your faces”

In the distance, you could see the site. There were two cabin-like structures that were connected by a bridge. after the Sampson landed you helped Jake get out of the aircraft. “You want me to carry you” you smirked, you thought he would decline the offer due to his pride

“Yeah go ahead,” he said with a smirk on his face, so you lifted him over your shoulder, you stumbled a bit but gained your balanced once again and walked to the cabin with both your bags on your other shoulder. Norm was nice enough to grab his wheelchair and hurried to get in front to ready his chair

While Grace was inside, Norm helped set up Jake's chair, you plopped him in it. He was the first to go through the airlock door, then you, Norm, and finally Trudy. As you all gathered around Grace came back “Welcome to camp”

Trudy put her stuff down before grabbing something from the fridge. You saw some photos on it, you saw Grace and other na’vi children you assumed it was her students, two of which you recognized, the girl who hung around you and-

“Neytiri?” you looked closer at the photos with her in them, “Oh, your girlfriend” You rolled your eyes and grabbed a photo of her and of another girl, they were holding each other like they knew one another deeply.

“Hey Grace, was Neytiri a student of yours right?”, she looked up at you and noticed you and Jake staring at the photos “Yes, she was my brightest student, took to it like breathing” you continuity looking at the photo, “who's this girl?” Grace looked sad for a moment “That's her older sister” You looked up at her “I didn't know she had a sister, where is she?” Grace looked at Jake for a split second, “why don’t you ask her yourself” She walked off to her bed after that, she looked upset

You looked back at the photo one last time before putting it back.

Grace had a bed to herself while you and Trudy shared a bunk, the same case with Jake and Norm.

Grace leads the three of you to the back. “Ok Y/n, you’ll be on the left at the end, unit one or as I like to call it, Beulah, she's the least glitchy. Jake, you’ll be in the one on the right next to her, you'll use it when Norm and I go out for samples, Norm-” She turned her direction to Norm as she explained their pod situation

You turned to Jake, “You know how to work these? Told Neytiri id to be late today, though dont know if she gonna wait this long haha”

[LOCATION- HOMETREE]

You awoke in the hammock again, you looked around to see no one around you, which was expected as it was about midday when your avatar woke up. You ventured down to the base where the other clan members were to find Neytiri.

As you walked you felt a tug on your tail, you looked over to see a girl, the same girl who always came up to you, god you had to learn her name! “Hey kid, ya need something?” you turned around and started walking backward slowly

“No, well yes, I came to give you this dream walker” She gave you what you assumed was an armband. It was very simple, as it was just woven with some leather and beads, but still very pretty “It so you dont look so bland, dream walker”

“Oh wow, you made this”, she looked at you and shrugged her shoulders “Yes, is it bad?” her shoulders were tense “What! no, I love it! It's very pretty!” She smiled up at you. She was about to say something else when she was interrupted by someone “Sälau” you knew that voice and you didn't like that voice

“Hello Tsu’tey, nice bumping into ya” You turned around to face him “It is not nice” he snarled then he noticed the girl “Sälau, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you, you're late for lessons” she looked down and kicked the dirt “sorry Tsu’tey, it's just that Dream walker took so long waking up, and I had something to give her” she argued back at him

you got the low down of the conversation but still couldn't fully grasp it. But you saw Neytiri walking towards you and proceeded to exit and conversation “Ahh Neytiri, just the girl I was looking for” walked towards her with outstretched arms

“Look sorry I was late, we had to do some sky people stuff that involved me being there” you tried to explain your self “It is fine, just try not to be late again” you nodded “So what's on the agenda today”

“Follow me” She waked around Tsu’tey and Sälau back to the spiral. “Bye kid see ya later” You ruffled her hair on your way passed her, she giggled at the contact while Tsu’tey rolled his eyes walking away.

*

You were leaping from branch to branch while going up the spiral to what you assumed was the top of home tree. As you got there you looked down to see the beautiful landscape below you, “*Woah*, hey Neytiri why are-” Instead of finishing your question, your ears tuned in on the rustles in the leaves and different screeches

You looked to Neytiri, seeing her make some calls as the rustling got louder and closer. You could see what looked like wings and tails moving around in the branches. You looked closer when all of a sudden something came flying out

You freaked out and moved back falling on your ass while Neytiri looked calm when the creature landed, it looked towards you, it had a piercing gaze. Its colors were beautiful greens and yellows “Holy hell-” “dont look in her eye, she will become aggressive” It was like she could feel that you were focusing on the banshee

While your eyes were closed, you could hear the banshee chirp at Neytiri, opening your eyes you could see the banshee eat a piece of meat “Ikran is not horse, once Tsaheylu is made” she held her queue to the ikran making Tsaheylu with her “ikran will only fly with one hunter in the whole life” she went around it and mounted her ikran

“Oh so like a pet, it stays with you” You looked up at her from below “Till the end huh?” her ikran let out a mighty screech “Yes, like pet” She gave hers a pet before resuming the lesson “To become taronyu, hunter, you must choose ikran, and he must choose you “alright, when do I choose?”

“When you are ready” she let out a command and she and Ikran dived down into the sky. You watch as they descended, they looked Graceful, almost like a butterfly, just following the wind where ever it took them.

[LOCATION- HOME TREE MEAL]

You and Neytiri sat down for lunch, today was fruit and some meat on a stick. You almost felt guilty eating the meat as it was a Tapirus a cute animal you would see roaming around the village, but damn was it good, it tasted like a pig to you

As you and Neytiri were reviewing what you were learning you felt a tap on your shoulder, you looked to see that girl from before “Can I sit with you two?” her English was a little stiff but still understandable

“Yes, you may sit” Your Na’vi was also stiff and very basic, You moved to make more room for her “Thank you, dream walker” She smiled and sat to your left “I have a name, not Dreamwalker” She looked up “Yes, I too have a name, it's not ‘kid’ ” she looked forward and began to eat her food

You looked to Neytiri, who shrugged her shoulders, you went back to English so you could greet yourself properly “Well, what is it? My name Y/n, Y/n sully” She looked up before answering “My name is Sälau te Voik Erok’ite, it is nice to meet you!” she looked to you to see if she said the introduction right

You smiled down at her, “Well it's nice to meet you Sälau” She smiled back and continued eating. “So how did training with Tsu’tey go Sälau?” she stopped to think “It went fine, we worked on my shooting”, “oh so your training to be a hunter too huh, I bet that's fun”

She looked down, lowering her food a bit “Yes it is fun, but also, umm” she tried to find the word for it “Boring?” she perked up “Yes! Very boring, I’d want to weave more than hunt”, you looked intrigued “you like weaving huh?”

“Yes I like it very much, Grace even taught me the Earth way!” she held up her wrist to show you a bright green and purple woven bracelet “me and my friend having same bracelets, but he has an armband one”

When she said that she seemed to remember something and gasped “YOU NEVER PLAYED WITH US!” you looked at her confused, her yelling seemed to get Neytiris attention as well, “You said you would play with us but you never did! After we eat we play!” you looked to Neytir to see if she was fine with it, she nodded her head

“Sure kid, what do you want to play?” you took the last bite of your meat “I want to play an earth game!” she looked up at you with excitement “Hmm,” you thought “how about hid and seek” “no, I already know that one, I good at it anyway” she waved you off

‘hmm common Y/n! Think what games could you play you berated yourself, till an idea came to your mind, “How about hopscotch? Ever play that?”, she looked at you confused “hop-scoot?” she butcher the word a little bit “Yeah hopscotch, it's a fun game I used to play as a kid”

“Ok, we play hopscotch after lunch when you are done” You looked to see that you were practically done “Well it looks like we're just waiting on you kid” She looked to see she barely touched her food while you were done “What no way” and she started eating faster while practically scarfing it down like a wolf

*

You and Sälau went over to an open area, you grabbed a stick to make the hopscotch grid, then grabbed a small rock, and presented yourself to them

“Ok so, how you play is that you throw this rock into a box” you acted out the instruction, it landing on two “and you go through the entire course however many times the rock lands” You hooped through it, but your foot landed on the line near six

“But if you land on a line or your other foot touches the ground, your out, and the next person has to go” You looked to Neytiri and Sälau to see if they understood “You guys can read numbers right?” you didn't even think to make sure the knew

“We do, just a bit tricky” Neytiri answered, both she and Sälau were Graces' best students “Yes, I loved counting” Sälau shot her hand up, “I want to go first!” she ran to the course, grabbed the rock, and threw it, it landed on three

“Remember, dont let your other foot touch the ground and go through it three times” She nods her head and started to hop, she did well till she got to six on her second run. She leaned her body forward too much and fell over scraping her chin

“Haha, you ok kid?” she popped up “Yes I'm fine!” she grinned, dirt staining her face “But I lost” She looked down with a pout “its ok kid, you'll get it next time,” you looked to Neytiri, “so I guess that means it's your turn”

She looked at you with wide eyes “What? I never agreed to this” you smirked “Oh common, it'll be fun, you not about the wimp out on us now are ya?” you threw your arm around her shoulder, and Sälau pipped up “Yeah Neytiri, join us PLEASE” she grabbed her hand hanging off of it

were you two peer pressuring the chief's daughter, yes, yes you were. But you just wanted to have fun and you could tell she did too. She looked between the two of you, giving her your best puppy dog eyes. “Fine, I will play the sky baby game”, she bent down to grab the rock and threw it, it landed on eight, and you and Sälau high fived in victory, you had to show her how tho

Neytiri only got to five on her third try, and both you and Sälau sighed in her defeat “Is it your turn Y/n?” Sälau looked up at you “Hmm, I guess it is” You took the rock from Neytiri and it landed on 5 this time. You hopped over it, you almost had a slip-up, to which you could hear Sälau pray for your downfall

But sadly her prayers were answered as you fell on your ass, you only got to four rounds before you lost your balance and fell backward, Sälau laughed while pointing at you, and Neytiri held her hand up to hide her amusement. You got off and went to hand the rock to Sälau before you heard yelling in the distance

“Sälau, where were you? We've been looking for you. Why didn't you eat with us? Come it is time for chores” an older male Navi came up to you three and went straight to Sälau “Sorry papa, I was just playing with Neytiri and the dream walker” the man tutted at the girl

“Come, your mother was very saddened you didn't eat with us” he held out his hand for her to grab “Why do you like this dream walker so much?” she shrugged her shoulders with a sad face “I dont know, I think she interesting, and she plays with us, the other older kids just shoo us away” she was playing with her tail at his point as they both walked away, you looked in between the two, you concluded that it was the girl's father by hearing the na’vi word for father

“Why dont you say goodbye to dream walker for today and get started on your chores” You understood the word ‘bye’, you were sad to know she had to leave, you could tell that she didn't like that, but she turned around to face you “I have to go, Y/n, I will see you tomorrow” you looked down at her “yeah, no worries ill play with you tomorrow, maybe you can bring your friends over to play to” she popped her head up and nodded

She turned to her father and took his hand again and off they went, you looked to Neytiri “So, what else are we doing today”

[LOCATION- SITE 26]

Your pod opened, and you were met with darkness and distant snoring you could recognize as Jake. when you walked through to the main common area you could see Grace working “So how was today?” your head looked to her, as you sat down after you got some dinner “Well, I played a game with a village kid I’ve kinda befriended, and Neytiri showed me her banshee. And also some language lessons as usual.”

you “She still swatting at you?” you chuckled a bit “Yeah, my avatar has a small bruise on her thigh” Grace laughed a bit before telling you to do a vlog and get to bed

*

You woke up earlier than normal and saw that Jake was up as well. You walked over to him with confusion on your face

“The hell you doing up so early?” he seemed to flench at your voice “Umm, co-couldn't sleep well last night” he had a quiver to his voice “You alright man? Ya look pale” You leaned over his chair to look at his face, he couldn't look you in the eyes, instead directing them to the window

“Yeah I'm fine, had a nightmare i guess” You looked concerned at those words “About what?” he finally looked you in your eyes “About losing you again, I dont know, just want to know how your doing in the village if you know what i mean” you looked at him with sympathy “no yeah I get a whatcha mean man, you know what I’ll see if I can get you three to visit, that be cool right?” again his eyes went to the window

“Yeah that be nice”

You got up and went to make breakfast so you could make you get there as soon as possible, For some reason feeling more ambitious today.

Next // PT 6 Dear Diary

Previous // PT 4 New Kid in Town

Taglist // @msboucles

// Masterlist //

A/N // man this is short and kinda shit in my opinion lol i dont like this chapter except for the hopscotch scene but overall this is a filler chapter with some important seeds planted. I'm really excited to write the next chapter cause after that Y/n gets her Ikran

Oh also if you want to be added to a tag list let me know I can totally make that happen :D

[drmikewatts]

Weekly Review 1 November 2024

Some interesting links that I Tweeted about in the last week (I also post these on Mastodon, Threads, Newsmast, and Bluesky):

I think this is the biggest reason to not use AI to generate important code or material-it's too easy for bad actors to inject malicious code into the model used: https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/10/bytedance-intern-fired-for-planting-malicious-code-in-ai-models/

Google's AI mediator, that helps guide people to agree: https://arstechnica.com/ai/2024/10/googles-deepmind-is-building-an-ai-to-keep-us-from-hating-each-other/

The quality of data being used to train AI is declining. Garbage in, garbage out: https://www.bigdatawire.com/2024/10/23/ai-has-a-data-problem-appen-report-says/

Like many other AI, this transcription tool hallucinates: https://techcrunch.com/2024/10/26/openais-whisper-transcription-tool-has-hallucination-issues-researchers-say/

It is going to take some time to sort out the legal issues around the scraping of content to train AI: https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2024/oct/25/unjust-threat-murdoch-and-artists-align-in-fight-over-ai-content-scraping

More ways AI will keep lawyers happy-who's responsible when an AI controlled vehicle crashes? https://dataconomy.com/2024/10/23/the-ethical-dilemmas-of-autonomous-cars-whos-responsible-in-a-crash/

Ten Python libraries you should be familiar with for working with data: https://www.kdnuggets.com/10-essential-python-libraries-for-data-science-in-2024

The last time I got a scam call I told them to talk to my d*ck and put the phone down the front of my trousers. I don't think that would work if it were an AI calling: https://www.theregister.com/2024/10/24/openai_realtime_api_phone_scam/

An AI that can write, and verify, code: https://techcrunch.com/2024/10/24/anthropics-ai-can-now-run-and-write-code/

Biased data produces biased AI models. This is as true for cybersecurity applications of AI as it is for anything else: https://www.datasciencecentral.com/why-ai-bias-is-a-cybersecurity-risk-and-how-to-address-it/

Do we really want an AI to be able to control the mouse on our computers? Maybe useful for people who have motor impairments or tremors: https://arstechnica.com/ai/2024/10/anthropic-publicly-releases-ai-tool-that-can-take-over-the-users-mouse-cursor/

AI company fires back at lawsuits over its scraping of content for training data: https://techcrunch.com/2024/10/24/they-wish-this-technology-didnt-exist-perplexity-responds-to-news-corps-lawsuit/

Did a chatbot AI really encourage a teenager to kill themselves? Time for guardrails: https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2024/oct/23/character-ai-chatbot-sewell-setzer-death

Using AI to enable a garden to talk back: https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2024/oct/25/ai-powered-garden-chelsea-flower-show

The idea of multi-agent architectures has been around for decades. Will generative AI be able to coordinate different agents to perform useful tasks? https://www.informationweek.com/machine-learning-ai/10-reasons-why-multi-agent-architectures-will-supercharge-ai

It looks pretty obvious to me that some companies will try to use Microsoft's AI to replace workers, not augment them: https://dataconomy.com/2024/10/23/microsoft-rolls-out-virtual-employee-ai-agents-for-enterprises/

The US wants to use more AI, especially in national security: https://www.computerworld.com/article/3587124/white-house-tells-intelligence-agencies-use-more-ai.html

The AI Cisco is using for customer support: https://www.computerworld.com/article/3578806/ciscos-new-ai-agents-and-assistants-aim-to-ease-customer-service-headaches.html

If the AI chips only last three years, what happens to them after that? Can they be recycled, or is this another way AI can negatively impact the environment? https://www.extremetech.com/computing/data-center-ai-gpus-may-have-extremely-short-lifespans

AI generated material is a threat to us, especially its use in election interference: https://www.informationweek.com/cyber-resilience/ai-manipulation-threatens-the-bonds-of-our-digital-world

An approach to watermarking AI generated text: https://spectrum.ieee.org/watermark

Replacing journalists with AI is not a popular move: https://www.stuff.co.nz/world-news/360462671/polish-radio-station-replaces-journalists-ai-presenters

40 years later, Terminator continues to influence people's opinions of AI: https://arstechnica.com/ai/2024/10/40-years-later-the-terminator-still-shapes-our-view-of-ai/

Who needs AI safety? Not OpenAI: https://www.theregister.com/2024/10/25/open_ai_readiness_advisor_leaves/

[simmetrycal]

that’s what i like ༉‧₊˚.

synopsis

a glimpse into chantelle and oaklynns relationship, accompanied by ash who’s got nothing better to do than to third wheel.

word count: 5.7k wow

a/n: i just be writing! (not proofread) ((asher solace of solace enterprises is my very best friend))

chantelle tapped her foot against the glossy marble tiles in front of the cafe “Little Dove”. for a coffee shop that is owned by and literally on the second floor of the company, the service still isn’t quick enough. and the coffee itself is mediocre at best. there was a line of about seven people in front of chantelle, all waiting to pick up their drinks.

chantelle knew all of the employees in front of her. some worked in the call center, some in finance, some in marketing. even a fellow secretarian. she looked around, more of her colleagues at the tiny tables with their laptops and cups.

she noticed hans working silently to himself before agnes comes up to him. they spew insults at each other, aiming to offend and hurt.

the scoop on agnes and hans is always fresh on everyone’s ears. their drama never ceases— the rivalry still and perhaps always will be a flame that never goes out. it isn’t a romantic flame at all, don’t get it twisted, they fight because they’re after the same person.

rahim abboud. he’s from syria and he’s in tech support. he’s probably the funniest guy chantelle’s known at the company (don’t tell ash.) everytime she has trouble with hers or ash’s computer, he’s there. he does a silly accent to mock stereotypical tech support scammers, who tend to also be brown men.

none of which look like him of course— rahim had a smile that makes crowds literally buckle at the knees. his chiseled jaw and perfect skin and hair could also be that of a model. he almost looked a little too handsome in chantelle and ash’s opinion. though, he did own quite a nice mercedes.

hans o’neil is absolutely nuts for him. he’s not allowed to have water on his desk anymore on account of how many times he’s “spilled it” on his computer just so he could call rahim to him. agnes does the same shit only with the marketing teams phones and answering machines.

point is; they both fight over him like he’s a piece of meat and they’re starving hyenas. the two are always at each others throats.

like right now.

“run out of dry shampoo, grease trap?” hans snides at the auburn haired woman who was across his little cafe table. chantelle pursed her lips closed as she tried not to laugh, moving up in the pick up line.

“oh yeah you’re one to talk, you probably used it all on your dry ass white hair.”

agnes’ comebacks weren’t super great but she spits them with such venom that it’s enough to be hurtful.

everyone used to think hans has albinism but it turns out he’s just very, shockingly platinum. he reminds chantelle of those beautiful white hares with the red eyes. anyhow, agnes’ comment flew right past hans as he pretended she didn’t exist anymore. the classic ‘out of sight, out of mind’.

she interpreted that as her winning, so she sashayed away confidently with a hair flip over her shoulder and a “hmph!”

someone cleared their throat in front of chantelle, surprising her. she was at the wooden counter, finally.

“good morning, what can i get you?” a blue haired individual with a visor and apron asked.

“morning, pick up order for chantelle?”

the barista’s eyes widened. “oh my god, i’m so sorry! you’re chairman solaces’ secretary! let me get that for you right away!” they scrambled around, looking for the order for their utmost superior- hoping this wouldn’t get them fired.

chantelle politely urged them it was no rush, even though the more she thought about it, she realized she’d been in this long line for about thirty minutes now. the barista came back with a paper bag and a drink holder.

chantelle tipped and took the bag that had her boss’s bagel and the drink holder, making her way back up the elevator, away from the pity little dove establishment this company owns.

right as she got in and the doors were about to close, she saw hans running up to her with his closed laptop and to-go cup, his blue-strapped lanyard dancing with his jogs.

she stuck a foot out to stop the door sensors to let him in.

“phew! thank you.” he says breathlessly to chantelle before using his knuckle to press the floor number he was on his way to. floor 29, finance.

“good morning, hans.” she replies gracefully. chantelle and hans have gotten to be better acquaintances now that ash has been barking up raymond’s tree about the whole mystery girl situation. ash and her have frequented the finance floor more these past few weeks than ever.

“can you believe that trifling skank?” he runs a hand through his perfectly neat and short powder white hair.

“pardon?”

“agnes thinks she’s hot shit. but really she’s just a dirty bitch.” hans rolls his eyes and sips his warm drink.

“mhm, tell me about it.”

“oh! i’ll tell you about it!”

chantelle chuckled, she was merely playing along but she knows this shorter boy is about to open a can of drama in this elevator. who was chantelle to be opposed to hearing it? so she avidly tuned in.

-

at her big, beautiful mahogany desk, chantelle ate her breakfast burrito and checked her emails, waiting for ash to return from his meetings.

many people assume ash goofs off all day, and while that is partly true, he does actually maintain his duties of a chairman. he keeps up with all his responsibilities and he attends all the mandatory meetings.

she knows he’s upstairs in the board’s conference room playing one sided footsies under the table with the unsuspecting ceo (who is always being replaced). he calls all the chair members “The Bored” instead of the board. it makes chantelle laugh.

she took another bite of her burrito whilst looking at her itinerary for the day. her heart warmed when she saw a particular reminder.

today is her and oaklynn’s four year anniversary!

this morning she stopped by jerichos place because the two had a family night there yesterday. it was a bit of a drive but she didn’t mind. she delivered yellow tulips to a groggy jericho as apparently the princess was still getting her beauty sleep. chantelle couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she got in her car and came to work.

tomorrow was a national holiday, so no work and her and oaklynn were going to make the absolute most out of it. they had reservations to go to a lavish new italian restaurant “Casa Bellissima” which took months to get a spot.

she texted ash the other day saying thank you. it was him after all who pulled some strings for them to get a reservation for tonight.

then after dinner, they were going to the movies to catch challengers again. oaklynn was extremely excited but chantelle, after seeing it once, was simply only going for the sake of her happy girlfriend.

and finally, at chantelle’s apartment tonight, they both know exactly what sort of late night activity they’d do. eager to go for however long they want and sleep in the next morning.

chantelle snapped out of her rose colored daydreaming when she heard the familiar ding of the elevator.

“good morning, sir.” she stood up and greeted, watching him make his way to the giant doors to her right- his office. he didn’t notice her at first and changed his resting face to something high energy.

“oh my gosh! i had no idea you were here yet!” he said excitedly, knowing it’s her big day. but like a dog, he spotted treats, “is that for me?”

ash hurries over to her desk to grab his bagel and frappe, setting down the heavy binder that was in his hands. it was surely filled with new tasks wayne gave him at the meeting.

sometimes chantelle didn’t speak until spoken to, and ash knew this. a trait about her he was desperately trying to bend, even after all these years. he does this by asking her as many questions as he can.

“how do you feel?”

“good,” she says simply. “really good.”

his face warms with a genuine yet goofy smile. “yeah? did you see oaklynn this morning?”

“well, i tried to go see her but she wasn’t home. then i remembered it was family night so i went to her cousins house and she was still sleeping. i delivered some flowers.” she blushed. hard.

“awwwe!! that is too cute!” ash gushed, leaning over to mess up her hair. something she hated.

her blonde bob was back, per ash’s request. he loves choosing her hair and as a white man, he feels like he’s apart of something bigger.

chantelle always lets him and she’d never tell him it’s not doing what he thinks it is. at least, not again— she told him once.

“the black community is not going to give you a medal for knowing these hairstyles.” she blurted once when ash said something about her getting goddess faux locs for her next hair appointment.

he was sad and didn’t come out of his office all day out of embarrassment. chantelle ended up getting her hair done on company hours to come back and surprise him at the end of the day with the exact style he was talking about. it occurred to her then that ash was actually fashion saint and knew what he was doing. she never doubted his advice ever again.

he was overjoyed and gave her a big hug. he even took pictures of her because of how lovely he thought she looked. later they went on her instagram.

chantelle smoothed out her shiny bob that ash just ruffled, laying her hands down over it repeatedly.

ash giggled and made his way to his big office with a cityscape view. chantelle followed in suit with a clipboard of his printed schedule.

she noticed he had a meeting today in 45 minutes with finance’s director. wondering if it was actually to see reports or to have another chitchat with raymond.

“oh! guess who i ran into today,” she starts.

ash sits in his spinny chair and turns to look at her with surprise. “who?” he was probably expecting something crazier than she was about to say, palming a fidget toy.

“hans.” she explains, handing him a tiny paper cup of water and his adderal pill.

he downed it in a second and tossed the cup into a little trash receptacle. “oh. oh…! did he have anything to say about agnes?” ash is hilariously obsessed with the whole hans-agnes-rahim love triangle. it’s been going on for a while too.

“did he! oh my lord,” chantelle chuckles and takes a seat on the opposing couch to tell her boss everything hans spilled in the elevator earlier.

all about the weekend lake party that marketing threw to celebrate their new manager. the funniest part to chantelle was the fact that the team fully didn’t invite the manager.

she laughed hard when hans explained it. apparently the guy is old and grumpy and wouldn’t approve of a party. but the team threw one anyway for morale.

anyhow, agnes invited rahim and in turn rahim brought along hans. it was a shit show, hans said. but the lake was absolutely stunning. he recommended it to chantelle.

(i’ll write the lake shit show separately)

˚ · .

“what time is your reservation again?” ash said as he watched chantelle clock out. he clocked out himself twenty minutes ago but he likes to walk her to her car when she parks outside down the street. the sun will set soon and he doesn’t like women walking alone in the city.

why she doesn’t just park in the underground garage baffles him.

“uh, at like 9:30.” she looks at her watch. it was four hours til.

“i was thinking..” he says, hesitating because he doesn’t want her to freak out. “hear me out.”

“..okay?”

“can you and possum come with me to visit the lake?” he refers to oaklynn as “possum” because he thinks she looks exactly like one.

she scoffed and clicked auto start when they got close enough to her camry. “why?”

ash tsked. explaining how sad and lonely and bored he is, and that the idea of going to the lake told by hans retold by chantelle sounded intriguing.

it’s true. lately he really has been sad and lonely and bored.

especially lonely.

caroline, a friend of a friend invited to one of ash’s parties, got tangled up in bed with him. ash, abandoning his celibacy, fell for her hard after mere days of them getting to know each other.

she wasn’t into relationships but ash didn’t get the message right away. not until she had to spell it out for him. needless to say he ended things, despite being completely head over heels over her. he can’t allow himself to fall more in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same way.

he’s called many of his girlfriends and boyfriends “the one”. caroline was no different. he heals and copes in his own way and soon enough, the ash we all know and love will bounce back.

chantelle knows all about ash’s recent heartbreak. he won’t shut up about it, at least not for the next week or so. and he’s been filling up his schedule 24/7 so he doesn’t have any time to linger on emotions. which, granted, is unhealthy to do.

chantelle thought about it for a moment as she got in her car and rolled down the window to look at him.

“fine. but only for an hour. and pick us up.”

ash moved aside her pointed, manicured finger in his face with a wave and laugh. “you have my word.”

˚ · .

the lake was huge and beautiful and vast, just like hans made it out to be. much more vast than any of them thought.

the half hour drive there was pleasant too, ash played music he knew is favorite lesbians would love. he brought chairs and firewood and swim trunks. hoping he could speedrun all his fun in the short hour deadline chantelle gave him.

he parked and the girls got out, taking a look around. it was getting pretty dark already and with darkness came the cold.

surely, the lake had cooled down to a temperature that none of them would like, but it didn’t stop ash from zooming past chantelle and oaklynn with light speed toward the water. he ran onto the wooden platform and jumped dramatically in.

ash surfaced immediately, comically freezing. if it were a cartoon he’d be blue and icy, bobbing in the water with his teeth chattering.

“jesus!” he yells, swimming around to try to get used to it but the water was just too nippy. oaklynn was cackling at the whole scene but chantelle was just irritated.

she went back to his car to find the foldable chairs and brought them out. placing them upright in front of a firepit.

she chuckled but it was more of a scoff— even outside of work chantelle found herself assisting her boss. she also brought ash’s towel and laid it out on a chair to get warm by the fire oaklynn began to make.

oaklynn is very outdoorsy. she used to be a girlscout and her favorite hobbies are hiking and mushroom picking. not to mention she’s a florist.

ash tried swimming around for at least a few more minutes but before he knew it, he was running out, frigid and shaky. he darted to his fluffy blue towel that was warm and cozy and started to smell like campfire smoke. he wrapped it around himself and sat down with satisfaction and comfort.

“knew that wasn’t a good idea.” oaklynn said with a giggle at ash.

“what.. do you.. mean? i.. had.. so much.. fun!” he said between teeth chatters, his cheeks and eyelashes glistening with drops.

they all chatted there around the fire for a good amount of time. well, chantelle was mostly silent while her chatty girlfriend conversed with her boss.

oaklynn and ash are well adjusted friends now, they’re past all the formalities. ash used to talk so much about professional subjects like work and networking and whatnot, but he dropped the act once he realized oaklynn wasn’t for it.

she’s into genuine, real conversations about things like hobbies and shared experiences. her storytelling is unmatched, going on and on about every little detail about childhood or trips or mishaps. the way she can entrance and keep someone on the edge of their seats, eager to hear her next words, was something chantelle wished she had more of in her.

ash developed love for the two being together and would be absolutely heartbroken if they ever broke up. more heartbroken than either of them maybe.

once ash was dry and clothed again, he got out skewers and a pack of hotdogs from the trunk.

“did you bring buns?” chantelle asks, looking around and seeing just the skewers and sausages.

ash was speechless, his mouth hung open a little as he remembered he completely forgot to bring the hotdog buns he left on the counter.

“um..”

“of course you didn’t.”

“hey..” oaklynn says, extending her little hand out to touch chantelle’s shoulder. “it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“yeah tellie don’t worry about it!”

something about ash, especially when he called her that, made chantelle even more irritated. she looked at the time on her phone.

8:01 pm

she tsked and tried her best to remain unaffected. “we should probably head back soon.”

“nah,” ash says, also noticing the hour. “we have plenty of time! here, let’s make these weenies!”

ash loves hotdogs. even when they don’t have a bun or chilli slathered all over it, he still enjoys them. but often times, he drops them. if the floor or counter is his own, he’ll 5 second rule it. but, here, on this sandy, dirty earth floor, he doesn’t risk it.

one fell after another, making oaklynn lose her shit from laughing at him across the fire. the hotdogs covered in dirt and twigs and soot rolling away from him on the ground took her out.

his fourth hotdog dropping was chantelle’s breaking point.

“just fucking-“ she grabs the pack of hotdogs from him, rips open the plastic, and stabs a skewer through one. handing that to him before she stormed away to sit in the car by herself.

…“what’s got her so worked up?” was the last thing she heard distantly from ash’s mouth to her girlfriend as she slammed the door shut. it irritated her even more.

“i-“ oaklynn says, turning to ash from staring at the car. she had no idea if chantelle is looking back at them, the windows are tinted probably an illegal amount. they’re completely opaque black. “i don’t know. she’s never usually like this.”

“everything ive been doing since we got here has pissed her off. i mean, this morning she was so happy.”

oaklynn shrugs, worried about her girl. after all it’s their anniversary, you’d think she’d be super joyful and laid back today. but, come to think of it…

“do you remember last year?” oaklynn asks ash, recalling their last anniversary. ash wasn’t present of course but he knows what happened.

one of chantelle’s brothers showed up at her place asking her if he could stay with her. he isn’t the best person, though. his lifestyle is extraordinarily different than hers. chantelle, strong and intelligent and passionate, found her way in life by hard work and honesty. her brother jamal however, has gotten by with many.. many cut corners. he’s no stranger to the streets and he’s been on parole more times than you can count on one hand.

chantelle didn’t know how to react when she opened the door to jamal. he just stood there, chin up acting like he wasn’t in desperate need of her help. acting like a thug even though chantelle knows deep down he isn’t one. she’s known him so well ever since they were little.

oaklynn was in the kitchen at a barstool, unbeknownst to what was going at the door. she didn’t even know who was there. one moment, her girlfriend is cooking a loving homemade brisket dinner for her, the next she’s yelling at someone behind a heavy, shut front door.

when she came in again, her older brother trailed behind her, following her into the nice apartment.

“wow.. this what you been doing away from home?” he said, his way of complimenting. “you makin a bag, huh?”

she never responded. not wanting to even remember her old life with her family in miami.

“oaklynn,” she cleared her throat, looking anywhere but her girlfriends eyes. “this is jamal, my brother.”

“what’s good?” he says, giving her a head nod instead of a handshake, even though oaklynn tried greeting him with one. her pale hand dropped to her lap when she realized he wasn’t going to extend his.

the whole night chantelle was tense. nothing happened, but she still cut the food with frustration. still eyed the door like some other man she used to know would walk in. the stress displayed on her face the whole time they ate their anniversary dinner. which was odd, because the year prior they did the same thing but they were excited and happy and free. oaklynn swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed away the mere idea of the tension being related to their relationship. she was and is and forever will be in love with the woman that is chantelle.

jamal’s presence brought chantelle’s entire mood down, replacing her fluffy white cloud with a dark, rainy one. despite it all oaklynn still kissed her goodnight when the two parted, and she told her how much she loved her. how much she’ll always love her- stressed out and all.

ash bit his lip as they talked about it. feeling like an asshole. this was their day, and while oaklynn certainly doesn’t mind company, it’s apparent that chantelle does. he gave her his word that it would only be one hour.

she was being kind and polite coming here with him because of how alone he’s been, but the way he prolonged their hour into now two hours was wildly inconsiderate of him.

he dug around in his athletic shorts pocket for his keys. after finding them he clicked the button, starting his car from all the way over by the fire.

only, it didn’t start.

that’s odd..

he’ll start it when they pack up and put the fire out he guesses. but once they’ve done that and theyre all packed into the audi, his start button just won’t turn the engine over.

he kept pushing it and the car sounded horrible.

“wait right here.” he says and exits the car, coming up to the front to pop the hood.

when he does he realizes he has no fucking clue why did that. he knows absolutely nothing about engines. nothing about what he’s looking at. the whole reason why he bought a luxury german car was so that he didn’t ever have to worry about the engine. it’s meant to be reliable.

but at the end of the day. it’s a car. it’s not never going to break.

oaklynn comes out and quietly stands beside ash. they’re silent for a moment while he pretends like he knows what he’s looking at, his hands planted on his hips like a concerned father.

“..should i call jer?” she says after a long moment of them staring at the engine.

“your mechanic cousin?”

oaklynn nods, “mhm! he actually lives outside of town too so he’s in the area.”

ash bit the inside of his cheek after he agreed. he’s never met jericho but he’s heard about him. oaklynn has tried to get them to come to a few of ash’s parties but he never showed up.

“i’ll call him,” oaklynn says as she pulls out her phone, walking away to get a smidge of privacy.

ash shuts the hood and sighs, thinking of this mystery mechanic.

if all goes well, maybe ash could become this jericho guys’ new regular. he had a tiny crack in his windshield he was hoping to get fixed soon, that’d be a good opportunity for a potential return.

oaklynn came back, crunching the gravel with her yellow flip flops. she told ash he was on his way and will be here in a few minutes with tools.

“he must be quite the gentleman. i’ll have to pay him generously.”

“oh don’t bother,” she waved it off. “they won’t accept any money, especially if the situation has anything to do with me.”

“doesn’t except money huh?” ash wiggled his brows. “i’ll have to pay him in another way.” he joked, pushing his tongue to his cheek and moving his balled up hand back and forth.

oaklynn laughed her cheeky, loud laugh and slapped his arm playfully at him mocking a blowjob. “you fucking freeeakk!” she yelled.

ash squinted with his smiles and held his arm, acting like her short frame could ever do any real harm to him. in fact he barely even felt her slap at all.

he noticed oaklynns grin fade away and he followed her line of vision. it was chantelle- she was out of the car and walking to the lake in frustration.

the time was 8:38, they’d surely miss the reservation and have to give up their table. not to mention it would set back the time they set aside to go to the movies.

“you should go talk to her.” oaklynn says.

“what? no, she doesn’t want to deal with me right now, i can tell. you go possum, you’re her partner.”

“ash.”

he turns to look at her, prying his eyes away from chantelle’s moody silhouette at the lake. “yeah?”

“go.”

it didn’t take much convincing, plopping his jingly keys into the little hand of the woman beside him. as he walked up to his assistant he heard the sound of a car pulling up on the gravel.

it took everything in him not to just ditch chantelle and run up to the gorgeous, glossed, blacked out car with a wing that just arrived. he didn’t even know what kind of car it was. he had to force himself to turn his head away as a boy in a black hoodie stepped out to greet their cousin.

right now, his focus was chantelle, and nothing else. he willed the world to fade away around them so he could comfort her. because at the end of the day, she was not only his secretary but his real friend.

it didn’t look it though with the way she glared at him through wet lashes. “what?” she grunts, keeping her composure the best she could.

“i’ll get you another reservation at casa bellissima.”

she doesn’t reply.

not even after a few minutes. ash struggles to find the right words, getting distracted every other second because he so desperately wants to look behind him and see this mysterious mechanic cousin of oaklynn’s hook up jumper cables to his audi. he oh so wishes he could help.

“it’s not about the restaurant.” she finally speaks, waking him out of his daze.

“what’s up then?”

chantelle sighs. “i just wanted this night to go perfect. to spend time alone with oaklynn..” she says, gesturing her hands.

“the way i see it,” he treads carefully, knowing he isn’t the best with reassuring words. “this night hasn’t been so bad. i mean yeah my car died but you’ll still get to go home with her. look, we’re saved.” ash motions to jericho. “you’re not stuck here with your obnoxious boss all night.”

“you’re not obnoxious,” she replies with a slight laugh.

“don’t lie,” he chuckles back, skipping a smooth stone perfectly across the lake. it goes for nine jumps.

he hands another smooth one to chantelle. hers only skips for two jumps before failing and drowning down to the bottom.

another sigh escaped her, this time more relaxed. “i was.. going to propose tonight. i have the ring on the dresser next to the dress i was going to wear.”

ash’s jaw drops and he finds her hand immediately, squeezing it. “oh my god, are you serious?”

she smiles and her free hand goes up to her teary, mascara ruined bottom lashes.

ash wipes them for her with his thumb. “i’m so sorry, i would have never kept you guys like this if i had known.”

“i know, i know.”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“because..” she looks at the lake again and takes her hand away from his loving yet tight grip. “i know how you are. you’re going to want to pick my hair and pick my ring and pick everything. sometimes i just have to tell you after it’s all said and done because that way.. you’re happy for me with no conditions.”

“i’m always happy for you, chantelle.” he shakes his head and shuts his eyes. “god, im so sorry and you’re right. i know i unintentionally micro manage.”

“it’s in your nature, you can’t help it.”

it’s silent for a moment before she restarts. “that was rude- i didn’t mean it that way. i meant to say i would never ask you to change. you’re yourself, and i love you, asher.”

he swallowed and laughed as he realized a tear fell down his cheek. “i’m supposed to be comforting you, girl. come here.”

he pulled chantelle into a movie-scene like hug. it was long, and warm, and strong. only pulling away so that ash could scrub his face- getting rid of his teary eyes so he could walk up this gravel with chantelle and meet this guy.

“she’ll say yes, by the way. i know it.” he whispers.

as they walked up, ash’s heart took a nose dive straight to his dick after seeing oaklynn’s cousin, completely taking him out of the warm, platonic moment just shared second ago.

he made a noise to which chantelle got startled by. it was like a shocked gasp-laugh.

“how long has oaklynn been concealing this absolute stud muffin?!” he whisper shouted to her. chantelle just hit his arm, her way of silently telling him “shut up!”

“hey!” jericho waves, one of his hands wearing a black rubber glove, the other bare. “sick a4 you have here, what’s her name?”

ash winces in embarrassment. “name?”

“don’t you name your cars?” he smiles. ash feels himself fold at the sight.

“n-no.. should i?”

“absolutely. this is cobra, for example.”

oh my god, ash thinks. it’s even cooler up close. there’s a few dents in the body but since it’s black it’s hardly noticeable. the shape was so fluid and compact and looked vastly different from his own, heavier sedan.

“what is it?” he wonders out loud, taking it all in.

“a ‘95 rx-7. she’s a little dinged up,” jericho rubs the roof of it lovingly, it’s definitely his daily. “you should see my supra, it’s a beast.”

this guy is totally carsexual. he’s got more than one? and ash has no clue what he’s talking about. “supra?”

jericho purses his lips together to not smile. ash was a complete noob. “i’ll show you sometime.”

they introduce themselves and shake hands. to which ash forgets to let go, too focused on looking at the scar running through his eyebrow as he’s close enough to see it. it was jagged but long since healed over— totally badass.

meanwhile jericho took in ash’s appearance. sapphire eyes, inky black hair, and a single mole below his bottom lip to the right. handsome was an understatement.

once jericho finally got ash’s car started, they bid their adieu. but not before he smoothly gave ash the address to the shop he half owns and works at. “in case anything else happens to your cruelly unnamed ride” they had said.

ash put his hands on his cheeks. treating his fingers like water and his face was fire— attempting to put out all this heat. he wasn’t used to being the one getting talked up.

he typically did the talking. he was the one who was supposed to be charismatic and charming and smooth. but here he was, driving his friends back without a word out of his usually chatty mouth.

“you should bring jericho around more often so ash stays quiet like this,” chantelle said to oaklynn who was sat in the backseat.

“oh shut up,” ash managed to get out, pulling into chantelle’s apartment complex parking lot. he parked in the handicap spot effortlessly and got an earful from miss righteous planet-loving 5 foot nothing. how’s the weather down there? is his go-to response with her.

as oaklynn headed in, chantelle got hung up by ash. his tinted window rolled down and her leaning into it. “are you going to do it tonight?” he asks.

chantelle avoids his gaze. she shrugs and smiles, “if the timing is right.”

“oh cmon, the timing is always right. you guys are meant to be.”

chantelle said goodbye after ash told her he better see a ring on her finger the next time she clocks into work.

he hopes it’s a large shiny rock but knowing chantelle, she’ll be wearing a simple gold band on her own finger. it’s oaklynn who’ll have a little beautiful stone.

on his drive home, ash daydreams about getting a ring for someone one day. how he’d go all out and spoil the shit out of some lucky person. he’d drop a brick on something so extravagant just because he can and it’d put everyone else to shame.

coincidentally the radio began playing that’s what i like by bruno mars and he started laughing. this annoying ass, corny song was ash’s anthem he thought. or would be his anthem if he had a special someone to spoil.

he finds himself also thinking of names for his audi, just so he could see jericho again.

˚ · .

as always jericho copyright dylan :-) TY for reading!

[leashade]

about nostalgia and the old internet

During one of my nostalgia episodes I decided to check on jabber.ru and stuff.

Way back in the day (early 2000s) ICQ was a pretty popular messanger in Russia and other post-USSR countries. And ICQ was using the same protocol as AOL IM (and ICQ was owned by AOL at the time too).

But nobody here used the official ICQ client as it sucked way too much. People used unofficial mobile client Jimm mobile instead. And also used a piece of software called QIP -- a multi protocol messanging app.

At some point other protocols (MRIM aka Mail.ru Instant Messaging and XMPP/Jabber) started gaining popularity. At some point I found out about XMPP and its clients. QIP became an XMPP app at some point, even forcing users to create a "QIP account", providing people with their own XMPP instance.

And on mobile I used Bombus (a very popular J2ME XMPP client) and then BombusMod. XMPP also supported "transports", basically providing "portals" into other protocols and adding "special" gateway contacts to your contacts list. So from your perspective as a user you were just using Jabber as usual, but had all your ICQ, MRIM and Skype contacts all in one place (this is exactly what I did).

But that wasn't all. I also used to join all sorts of group chats (or "conferences" in XMPP terms, usually about Linux, tech and programming), as well as some IRC channels (connecting them as "conferences" via transport in my Jabber account). And this was how I found a lot of people I'm still in touch with today.

There was also a hot new thing I found out about back in 2009 -- Juick.com. It was basically a "twitter for nerds", where all interactions happened via a special Jabber bot, using special commands. If you didn't use any commands and just wrote anything to this bot, it became a new blog post.

While it was trying to be a "twitter clone", characters limit was 2048 bytes. So people went wild here, telling all sorts of stories about politics, life and even writing a sort of roleplay sci-fi story.

Eventually some complicated events led to downfall of Juick in ~2011, and then the tech moved on. Jabber/XMPP and ICQ silently died, being replaced by social networks and their messaging apps. People started using Facebook, VK, Instagram, Twitter and later on Telegram for messaging, group chats, communities and blogs. And in this new world most of these old communities and technologies kinda died. Well, not DIED, but were basically forgotten by the majority of people.

...

Nowadays most of these apps and projects don't even have a functioning website. Many of the projects didn't survive the paradigm shift and the start of the smartphone era. OSCAR and XMPP protocols became kind of relics of the past, old and hard to support, without many modern features (seemingly).

ICQ was eventually bought by Mail.ru, who then merged with VK. Later down the road ICQ was "reborn", but it didn't have anything that the original had, and turned into a yet another messanging app. MRIM was forgotten. Jabber was a niche thing to begin with, though it's still used in corporate networks AFAIK.

Nowadays it's really hard to find any decent Jabber client apps even. There's a BombusMod build for Android, and it's the best you can find, even though it wasn't really made for touchscreens. Everything else is either made for corporate networks or has terrible UX/UI.

There's also Miranda NG for Windows. And also Pidgin and Telepathy for Linux. All three support all modern protocols and standarts, even support Telegram! And even Psi+ still exists, even though it's a jabbber only app. But still -- they exist!

But it's kinda wild to think about. All this jabber-juick-icq nonsense was the center of my world throughout my teenage years. Everyone around me -- young and old -- used ICQ, advanced users used Jabber. I was using Juick and was active and many conference chats until about 2012-2013.

And now there is nothing left from any of it.

Sites of the projects turned to nothing. The actual apps are not supported for many years now. And even the standards were seemingly forgotten. People kind of went different ways since then, and the world has changed. The only thing left from all this old "world" is the memories in the minds of people who were there.

I found my old Juick blog, and my last post here had a timestamp starting with "1 decade ago". And when I was active on Juick, it lasted for AT LEAST five years.

Funny how the time flies and how things that mattered the most to you yesterday don't mean jack shit today. In the end, nobody will remember any of it, and everything will turn to dust, leaving nothing behind.

...it's such a russian thing it seems -- starting a 2 hours long lecture to convey a single thought

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Go Go Let's Go! Let's Go! Dateko! (Pt.1)

⚠️THIS FIC IS 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI ⚠️

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 7000+

"You're looking at the face of the new captain of Date Techs iron wall" your son Futakuchi Kenji shouted as he burst through the front door of your humble abode.

"So they really went with you huh" you snicker "good maybe now you'll finally learn some respect for Moniwa and those other nice third years"

Kenji huffed as he set his bag down taking off his school tie and jacket.

 "You know mom, most parents would be like 'oh my god Kenji I'm so proud of you we can order your favorite tonight I love you so much you sweet sweet child'" he mocks as you stare at him trying not to laugh.

"Since when has that been our relationship Kenji" you smile as you proceed over to your son.

You grab him forcing him into a tight squeeze "Oh I love my boy so much you are so precious I can't wait to go cheer for Date Tech every single game now" you gush as he tries to force his way from your grasp.

"Eww mom please stop" he says as he gags "I didn't mean that supportive. Please don't show up at our games."

"I don’t know Kenji those team mates of yours really do like me" you snicker as you turn around "I wouldn't ever want anyone to think I don't support my precious baby boy."

Kenji rolled his eyes as you laughed. You had always had a really good relationship with your son. You had him at the age of 20 while you were in a relationship with his father. Unfortunately the relationship didn't work out and his father left the area. You didn't see him much and neither did Kenji. You struggled as a single mom, finding your main support in your parents. You had a great relationship with them and the 4 of you together made up a tiny happy family.

Your parents helped you finish school while your mother watched Kenji. You graduated and getting the job you had worked years for. Now that you were established, things were going well. Kenji was doing well in school, playing volleyball for one of the top schools in the Miyagi prefecture and you were working long hours at a job you loved. No matter what you always made time for your son. He didn't really want you to attend his games so you would occasionally sneak into one watching from the nosebleeds. You loved seeing your son doing what he loved and you always encouraged him.

"So what does a team captain do" you ask as you place the order for your son's favorite take out.

"I mean I run pratices, lead drills and encourage the team" he says nonchalantly as he looks over his school work.

"Not a strong suit of yours Kenj" you smile as he shots a death glare at you.

"Well it's alot easier now that we have a manager to help too" he says.

"Oh you found one then?" You smile

"Yeah Nametsu Mai, she's a second year. She will be doing a lot of the note taking and helping with set ups. Also it's nice to have someone making bentos for the team" he says.

You look up from the bills on your counter "wait she's doing all that alone? That poor girl why does she have to do all that?"

"It's her job mom chill" Kenji says as he laughs at your outburst.

"And your job Kenji is to make sure your team runs efficiently so I expect you to be helping you" you turn as you raise your eyebrows at him.

"Mom ser-" Kenji starts as he sees the glare in your eyes.

"I'm 100% serious Kenji. If you don't help that girl I swear to God that I will be front and center at every single match. Every single tournament with a giant sign in the shape of your face and a shirt that says 'I'm Futakuchi Kenji's number one fan'" you glare as his eyes widen.

"Ok mom ok ill invite her over to help her my god you're mean" he says as you smile.

"I'm off Friday so I can help you make bentos too. You really suck Kenji at doing anything domestic" you smile as you walk to the door to get the takeout you ordered.

Kenji shakes his head as he groans.

Thank God I'm only captain for 1 year he thinks as he signs going to help you get the food.

Friday approaches quickly as the team gears up for their first round of tournaments

"Mai" Kenji calls as he motions for her to come over

"Yes Kenji?" Mai says with a bright smile

"So I want to help you prepare meals for the team for the tournament" he says.

The team stops. Mai looks at him in shock. Middle blocker Aone Takanobu just stares. Fellow outside hitter Obara Yutaka smiles as Libero Sakunami Kōsuke looks on in complete shock.

"Stop looking at me like that! I'm a helpful person!" He screams as they all go back to their activities.

"Ahh it's ok Kenji I really don't need he-" Mai waves shaking her hands.

"Just come to my place tonight ok" Kenji says as the gym doors suddenly burst open.

Coach Oiwake Takurō just shakes his head as he witnesses to former 3rd year volleyball players parade into the gym.

"Well hello our precious underclassmen" Former Middle blocker Kamasaki Yasushi shouts as he walks over to the team.

Kenji just shakes his head "you guys really must lead boring lives if you always have to come bother us during practice. Haven't you found a job yet Kamasaki?" Kenji smirks as he sees the third year began to get heated.

"And here I thought you changed Futakuchi" he says as he goes to grab the captain by the collar. 

 Suddenly someone yells "Aone" and Aone goes to break up the fighting duo.

"Still no respect for your upperclassmen I see" Former captain Moniwa Kaname says with a laugh.

"Well since you're here you might as well make yourselves useful" Kenji says as he stares at Kamasaki "go block for me."

Kamasaki loosens his tie as former wing spiker Sasaya Takehito says as he shakes his head "not again."

Practice ends as the team clears the gym. Mai and Kenji walk to the Futakuchi residence. 

 As they approach, Mai looks at Kenji.

"You really don't need to help me" Mai says "it's my job as manager."

"I know Mai but you see- umm well my mom kinda insisted I help you" Kenji says "she's a bit- much."

They walk to the front door as Kenji opens it. Y/N comes running from the kitchen to greet her son and hopefully their team manager.

"KENJI I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DIDNT BRING-" you stop as Kenji just stares at you.

"Oh hello! You must be Mai!" You say extending your hand to the young girl.

"Hello Ms. Futakuchi! It's so nice to meet you" Mai says as she bows, saying Y/Ns hand.

"You as well! Kenji you didn't tell me how cute she was! You must get attention for all the boys" you smile as Mai blushes.

"Mom seriously" Kenji says as his face turns read and he walks away putting his and Mai's bags on the floor.

"What? It's true! But take it from me honey, boys are nothing but trouble! Look at Kenji" you say as you smirk to your son, Mai trying to hide her giggling.

"Ok mom did you just invite her over to ridicule me?" Kenji says to you completely unimpressed

"Nope I can do that without inviting her over! Now let's go to the kitchen Mai" you say as you lead the young girl to the kitchen.

You and Mai work to prepare bentos as you put Kenji to work where you need him.

"Honestly Kenji just stay out of the way" you shout.

"Mom why did you even ask me to invite her over?! I'm literally doing nothing" he says as he sits at the table

"Yes and you're terrible at it" you roll your eyes.

Mai finds your relationship with Kenji amusing and lighthearted. She can tell you have a great relationship with your son and you both feel comfortable picking on each other.

"Ok that's the last of it Mai. You did such a great job! The boys are so lucky to have you. And if they ever say anything rude to you, you let me know and I'll take care of it" you nudge Mai as she giggles.

"Oh don't worry Ms Futakuchi, Coach Oiwake makes sure they appreciate me" she smiles.

"Coach Oiwaka? I don't think I've met him" you turn slowly looking at Kenji

"Why would you need to mom? You always tell me you're happy to get rid of me to whomever will take me off your hands" he says to you in a mocking tone.

"Still! Is he cute?" You say as Mai laughs out loud

"Mom we are not having this discussion " Kenji says as he places his hands over his ears and walks out of the kitchen.

"Well is he?" you say smiling at Mai.

"For an older man, yes" she says giggling "he's been divorced for a few years now. No kids to speak of. He's pretty dedicated to being the coach"

You smile. It's been forever since you've been out with a man. After Kenji's father left, you were top focused on your career and school to even consider dating, let alone be intimate. It had been at least 5 years since you last had sex. Honestly you weren't even sure that was accurate.

"Ms. Futakuchi" Mai says to you as you stare off into space "umm Ms. Futakuchi?"

"Oh gosh I'm sorry Mai! Just thinking. How about we keep the bentos here and I'll bring them tomorrow morning before you leave?" You smile as Mai nods.

"Heck maybe I'll even get to chance to see this gorgeous coach of yours" she winks

"LA LA LA MOM I CANT HEAR YOU" Futakuchi sings from the other room as you both laugh.

Saturday morning approaches as Kenji leaves early to help load the bus. You leave the house at 7:30 in your leggings and old date tech t shirt, figuring it would just be a quick stop to drop off the bentos and back home to enjoy a day free from Kenji and responsibilities as an adult.

You arrive at the school and see the bus outside. It seems like the team is in the gym so you quickly grab the box making your way to the gym. You start to press the door open as you enter slowly.

Coach Oiwake looks up from his notes to see a beautiful young women standing holding an entire box of bentos.

Who are you? And how in the world are you so attractive?

"Kenji you jerk get over here and help your poor mother" you say sarcastically as the team snickers.

"More like 'poor me having to deal with my MOM showing up to my volleyball gym’" kenji rolls his eyes as he quickly walks away from you.

"Love you too sweetheart" you blurt out as every laughs and Coach Oiwake smiles.

"Futakuchi is this really your mother?" Coach says as he watches Kenji out the bentos on the floor.

"Unfortunately yes" Kenji says as he rolls his eyes rejoining his team.

You turn to walk out as Coach Oiwake stops you.

"Mrs. Futakuchi, hello I'm Coach Oiwake Takurō" he says as he extends his hand to yours.

"Oh no 'Mrs' please. Just Y/N" you say as you blush.

The team is observing your interactions.

"Awe that's so cute" Mai gushes as Obara places a hand on Kenji's shoulder.

"Man I don't blame coach at all. Your mom is hot" Obara laughed as Futakuchi glared at him.

"Can we please load the bus and stop talking about my mother? Kenji says.

"Well Y/N we very much appreciate you helping Mai with the Bentos" Coach Oiwake says to you as you smile.

"Don’t mention it Coach Oiwake! Kenji should be doing it anyways AS THE CAPTAIN" you sarcastically shout to him as he walks by you.

Coach Oiwake laughs "I can see where Futakuchi gets his whit Y/N and please call me Takurō."

You smile.

"I hope you'll be able to make it out to the tournament this weekend. I know the boys would appreciate the support" Takurō says as Kenji snaps his neck around.

"Oh no coach my mom is busy this weekend right MOM" Kenji says as he bores holes into your face.

"Actually I don't work this weekend Kenj! Hey that's a great idea! I'll come to support our boys" you shout as you go to hug your son.

Takurō laughs as he watches how cute you interact with your son.

"I look forward to seeing you there Y/N" Takuro says as he turns around winking at you.

Is the coach really flirting with me? you think as you giggle to yourself.

"Oh my god" Kenji shouts as he walks away "Oh don't worry sweetie I promise I won't cheer too loud for my precious angel" you tease as you bid the team and Kenji a farewell.

Damn I need to get to know her Takurō thinks as he smiles as you walk away.

taglist: @axoxtxhxh​

[princecharmingwinks]

Sterek Fic Rec - January 2021. My goodness can’t believe we are already halfway through the first month of a new year. But here we are! Here’s to another list of recommended fics. Enjoy!

Catch us in the mirror (it looks a lot like love) by Tails89 (1/1 | 4,691 | Mature)

“You’re lucky to have found a mate like Stiles.”

“Mm,” Derek nods, eyes following Stiles back towards the house. The words sink in and he freezes, mind frantically replaying every interaction he’s had with Stiles over the last few days, wondering how they could have possibly given her that impression.

Stiles is- he’s Stiles. He’s funny and smart and kind and— they’re not mates, no matter how much Derek might wish otherwise.

Hear me say I love you by devilscut (1/1 | 5,735 | Explicit)

Derek is finally giving Stiles the 'D' or rather the 'Double D' (Derek's Dick) as he likes to call it and sexing him up real good, like so, so beyond good. Only lately - and he'd never thought he'd say this - Stiles has noticed that it's starting to not be enough. Is their new arrangement purely physical or does it mean more to Derek as well? How can Stiles tell when the wolf isn't talking and he's saying way too much?

just my type by sterekhale (1/1 | 8,884 | Explicit)

After another failed date, Stiles' friend sets him up with her co-worker, who she swears is "his type".

Just Maybe I'll Come Home by spaceprincessem (1/1 | 25,589 | Teen)

“Now remember,” Deaton said as he stood in front of them, “everything that you’re seeing is an illusion. Stiles is the only true thing in there and you need to help him realize that what he is experiencing isn’t real.”

Derek nodded his head, words failing him. He let himself relax back into the fabric, the feel of Scott’s claws making his hair stand on end. For Stiles. He repeated over and over again in his mind, ignoring the ache in his chest, because he definitely did not have time to think about that right now. He could feel Scott’s hesitation, the hammering of the younger alpha’s heart beat making Derek’s head spin.

“Scott!” He barked before he growled in pain as claws met flesh and Derek’s world went black.

of twizzlers and tech support by bleep0bleep (1/1 | 1,161 | General)

WHERE IS THE FIC WHERE STILES CALLS TECH SUPPORT ON HIS FIRST DAY BUT GETS THE MAINLINE FOR JUNIOR VP DEREK HALE AND DEREK JUST IS HELPFUL

AND STILES JUST CALLS BACK

WHENEVER

HE CAN’T PRINT OR WHATEVS. SO DEREK IS LOADING PAPER DOWN ON THE 28TH FLOOR WHEN HE SHOULD BE ON 49TH IN A MEETING WITH HIS SISTERS

Some of us are human by aconitum (sugarandspace) (1/1 |  2,446 | Not Rated)

While researching the newest threat with Stiles, Derek comes across a box under Stiles' bed. The box has the words "open when I'm dead" written on it and for a moment Derek forgets how to breathe.

Not your circus: not your monkey by Jmeelee (1/1 |  2,535 | General)

It started the year Stiles’ mom forced him to perform onstage at the Polish Community Center, and Derek Hale threatened to rip Jackson Whittmore’s throat out with his teeth.

Things You Said Too Quietly by sparkandwolf (thatnerdemilyj) (1/1 | 1,107 | General)

Sometimes, Stiles wouldn’t hear Derek. His mind too focused on the plans being formed, the arguments being yelled, the shouts that weren’t so easily discernible through the background noise of growls and huffs. He’d look around at the pack, trying to focus on one voice, figure out what their next move was, and somehow his eyes always landed on Derek.

Espresso Yourself by fuchs (1/1 |  2,995 | Not Rated)

There’s a clatter and Stiles looks over the girl’s shoulder to find a guy standing behind her. He’s wearing an apron, dark to match the rest of the shop, darker still all down the middle where there’s a coffee stain spreading rapidly. He's staring at Stiles with wide blue-green eyes, and when Stiles meets his gaze he opens his mouth, closes his mouth, and then turns tail and disappears into what Stiles assumes is the kitchen.

Which is a little weird.

It’s not exactly the first time anyone has purposefully avoided him, but Stiles usually knows those people and they usually have a good excuse. This guy? Stiles doesn’t recognise this guy from Adam. Although he certainly wouldn’t mind roleplaying Steve.

A self-indulgent coffeeshop au turned into Laura/Stiles bromance turned into prom fic.

Not Until The Third Date by kaistrex (weishen) (1/1 | 1,149 | General)

Derek knows he must be hallucinating as he stares, bleary-eyed, down at a little fox trying to steal his bag of chips in the middle of the snacks aisle of the grocery store.

“Batman! What's taking so—?”

Derek’s head snaps up to stare at the owner of the voice who's just rounded the end of the aisle, a dark-haired, dark-eyed man pushing a cart towards him.

The man rests his elbows on the handle of his shopping cart, the quirk of a smile lending warmth to eyes not as dark as Derek had first thought. “You must be Derek Hale.”

*

Or in which Stiles has a fox familiar named Batman who likes to meddle.

princecharmingwinks special mentions (the Hale family feels in this fic are incredible!!)

I want to love you, I want to pass it on (I wanna give and give 'til it's all gone) by Gorgeousgreymatter (1/1 |  8,859 | Explicit)

“Good,” Derek murmurs, “because you’re going to do something for me.” The wolf grins, pulls away, and Stiles whines needily because somehow he always ends up being the needy one. Which isn’t fair, at all, but he can’t help it, okay?

“I thought we went over the whole asking questions thing,” Stiles says. “Question marks, Derek. Question marks.”

“Ha ha,” Derek says, nosing into Stiles’s cheek. “Don’t worry, it’s not a hard thing. And you’ll even like it, I promise.”

“Is it a sex thing?” Stiles asks, “because it’s starting to sound like a sex thing.”

And there we have it. Another rec list done. Please remember to leave kudos and comments for our fabulous writers. Writers you make my world a brighter place and I love you! <3 

[yehet-me-up]

Reboot

Pairing: Jongdae/Chen x reader (female)

Word Count: 26,971 😬 read it in a mobile web browser if it crashes! 

Rating: (PG13) for swearing + sexy vibes (nothing more explicit than a kiss on the page though)

Summary: Chen’s Electronics is a mystery, both how the store came to be and the man running it. When you start working as a receptionist for the enigma that is Kim Jongdae, you’re determined to be the one who unravels the mystery. You’re prepared for anything, except for falling in love with Jongdae himself. 

Part eight of the Exodus Mall series (Can be read independently, but you’ll get some extra backstory if you read the other parts first!)

A/N: I’m SO delighted that Jongdae is getting his IRL happily ever after and I’m so excited to wrap up his fictional counterpart’s story today, so he can have his ending as well 💕

March 15th, 1997

Capitol Hill is in full swing, the promise of spring drawing the sleeping city from its winter hibernation. The silver dress you wear is far shorter than you're used to, but the denim jacket is big enough to properly cover your ass, which is something at least. In your platform boots, borrowed from your roommate Liz, you're almost tall enough to see over the busy street to Cal Anderson Park up ahead.

'Come on,' Liz says with an excited glint in her eye. 'The club's just on the far side of Boylston.'

You nod distantly, eyes wide as you try to take in all the people around you. After spending the last two years buried in a book in the UW library or at internships or in class it feels startling to realize how much youthful, passionate energy beats at the heart of the city so close to where you've been existing. Not that you never go out, but now that you’re approaching the end of your master’s degree you feel like a diver finally reaching the surface to draw breath. You’re ready to celebrate.

A door opens to your right and music surrounds you. An impassioned man sings about an even flow, accompanied by an aggressive drummer and what you can tell is skilled guitar playing. The people on the sidewalk beside you press in, screaming and cheering and trying to shove their way into a club. A faded sign above announces it as Moe's Bar.

Your roommate's hand finds yours and she pulls you out through an opening in the crowd.

Once you’re free again you laugh and brush your hair behind your ears. Dozens of other clubs and bars and late-night restaurants you pass are the same. Men with mohawks in every color of the rainbow. Women in combat boots with plaid jackets tied at their waists. A group of teenagers skateboard down Broadway, hollering into the night as they fly by, the clack of their wheels muffled by the lingering rain dampening the streets.

Everyone seems taken by the revelry. It would be so easy - to disappear into the thriving mass of people celebrating music and community and being alive. Now, with graduation so close you can finally taste it, you surrender to the sensation. Tilting your head back you look at the round full moon above, peeking out through the clouds, and give a joyful, if tentative, howl.

This makes your roommate turn and squeeze your hand. Liz smiles with pride. 'Now that's the spirit!' she says with a fist pump and howl of her own.

The nightclub is unassuming, especially amongst the neon and metal venues you passed to get here. Two simple brass lamps spotlight the enormous carved wooden doors. Bass thumps from within, the slight rattling of the doors is the only indication that life exists within. Shari’s reads the hanging sign.

Liz practically glows under the lights, a North star leading you into a whole new world.

After so many years of keeping your nose to the grindstone - success gained through effort rather than extraordinary intelligence; advanced classes, extra college courses during the summer, every extracurricular you could pack in before you cracked, a high school diploma by sixteen, bachelors by twenty and MBA by twenty two - you would follow her anywhere as long as it didn't involve studying or a business suit.

She guides you through the heavy wood door into a small entry room. A large man with so many piercings he'd have a terrible time at the security scanners at the airport checks your IDs. It's stayed in your wallet, practically untouched, since the official one came last year on your twenty-first birthday.

Finally inside the club you bite your lip to hide a wide, giddy smile of excitement. Bodies fill the dance floor, joyously swaying to the beat. A DJ booth rises from a far corner like Sauron’s tower in the Lord of the Rings. A man with dark hair that falls in his intense eyes runs the booth; a king commanding his loyal subjects.

Liz finds her group of friends from the mall she works at spread over two successive tables with circular cushioned benches behind them. Their names and faces blur together in the low lighting, but everyone is welcoming, offering you a smile or a shake of a hand. A cheerful blonde-haired man, who you swear says his name is Bacon, takes you and Liz’s coats and purses and adds them to an overflowing pile beside him.

Before you can even think of sitting down Liz guides you onto the dance floor. Normally you’re the one in control. The one with the plan. The group leader or the one who organized the debate team fundraiser/supply closet at work/networking mixer. But it’s… nice, not having to be the center of everything, keeping it together with your effort alone. 

She gives you a teasing smile as if she can read your thoughts and you roll your eyes with a laugh. ‘No overthinking this!’ she commands with a raised brow as you find a good spot.

As if I have any other way of thinking. ‘I promise nothing!’ you shrug and smile at her.

Your movements are slow at first, awkward, and you laugh to yourself with amusement. Self-deprecation has never been your poison. Along with an unshakeable drive to make something of yourself you've always had a healthy sense of self-esteem. Who cares if you aren't the best dancer?

You get into the swing after the second song and shake your ass with delight at the energy in the room and the incredible job the DJ is doing loosening you up. He’s remixing “Semi-Charmed Life” with an older techno hit you don’t recognize.

Before long Jongin, Liz’s crush and co-worker from the KOKO exercise studio, captures her attention and you end up dancing with Baekhyun (tragically not actually named Bacon) and a girl who calls herself Hitchcock. You recognize each other from a seminar last school year at UW and take a long break to catch each other up on your lives over shots at the table. 

She tells you about her dual jobs at Microsoft and the movie theater at the Exodus Mall. You fill her in on your thesis project and she offers to look over your resume as you plan to apply to a similar track at the tech giant after you graduate.

When Liz said she was forcing you from your obsessive, ahem dedicated, studying for your research paper you didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t all of this. Reconnecting with a friend. A potential foot in the door at your dream job. Dancing so much that your back gets slick with sweat. Laughing with Liz so hard your stomach aches as Baekhyun attempts to breakdance, nearly falling backwards into no less than four people.

As if the night couldn’t get any better, something else catches your eye. Someone else - the DJ steps down from the booth on a break.

His black pants, white shirt, and tie would be overly formal and out of place in the nightclub, but his pushed-up sleeves reveal muscled forearms. The neon yellow sunglasses and loose piano pattern of the tie he wears make him look sexy, in an off-duty retro businessman kind of way. His face reveals none of his emotions as he slips off his shades, tucking them in his jacket pocket. But the corners of his lips tilt up with amusement as he scans the room.

Clearly he’s impressed with the atmosphere he’s created here tonight. As he should be, you think. You imagine for a moment what it would be like if he noticed you. If this was a meet-cute or the start of something. But his focus is on the bar now, not lingering on you or anyone else in the club. Dating for you was a rocky road and absolutely nothing like the way it looked in the John Hughes movies that were your guilty pleasure growing up.

Between your parents' support and your own innate thirst for success, you always felt like an outsider in terms of relationships. Extroverted and empathetic enough to make and maintain friendships, but boys were tougher. You could never figure out dating to your satisfaction in high school and you left when most of your peers were just finishing up Sophomore year.

In college there was hope. Studious and hardworking men with glasses and a love of Emily Dickinson and black coffee. Law school-bound guys who rowed crew and whose confidence was just on the right side of attractive instead of insufferable. John Cusack types with easy smiles and crates of vinyl they carefully collected, who performed at the Comedy Underground in hopes of ‘being discovered.’

It was both thrilling and irritating. You went after dating with almost as much determination as you did your school and career, set on experiencing everything possible.

But the English major wanted someone in a pastel dress and tights, who volunteered at an animal shelter and didn’t eviscerate him at Scrabble. The future lawyer was looking for his future trophy wife, to stand beside him at fancy dinners and fraternity mixers. And the Lloyd Dobler wannabe needed a muse, a beautiful and ethereal woman to be his object of longing, to laugh at his jokes and pass through life without worry about the future.

Not that you were jealous, or even bitter. Just because you weren’t what they were looking for wasn’t anything personal and you never took it like it was. The women they wanted existed and were wonderful in all their own ways. But it grated at you, how you always felt like a square peg in a round hole. Never being the right fit.

All your life you’d gotten used to knowing, and getting, what you wanted. It was insanely frustrating to not have found anything that stuck. Failure in any form made you frown, but thankfully romantic mishaps always took a backseat to school, friends, and your future, so it was easy to ignore. Until now.

The DJ passes close enough to you and Liz that you can see the echoes of dark circles under his eyes and the rich brown of his hair in the passing neon lights. For some reason that same intuition, that same hunger and drive that had propelled you to awards and scholarships and countless other successes, tells you to follow him. Whatever it is about him, your body and your desire react before your mind and conscious rational thought.

'I'll be back,' you yell to your roommate over the music. She nods and gives you a thumbs up as she's drawn into Jongin’s embrace once more.

Like a missile you weave through the crowd, target in sight. You watch as the DJ leans against the end of the bar, carefully positioning himself so he's at the end with no one behind him. You wonder if it's out of a dislike of people sneaking up on him or if he's a predator, sizing up the crowd.

With a casual hand he orders a drink from the bartender and surveys the crowd coolly. Too high on life to care too much, you take the seat two over from him, carefully avoiding eye contact, feigning nonchalance. ‘Self-possessed,’ that’s how your fifth grade teacher described you. Independent and old beyond your years. It always thrilled you, the praise and respect of adults. You wanted to earn more of it, to be seen as capable and mature.

But something about the man beside you makes you feel younger. Raw and playful in a way you’re not sure you’ve ever been before.

Admiring the cut of his jaw, you imagine kissing it. His hands on the bar are graceful, strong, befitting his profession. You want him and you want him to want you. The thought makes you inhale a deep breath, not even sure what that would mean. Adrenaline and delight fill your mind and you briefly fantasize about him holding you close on the dance floor like Jongin does to Liz. His hands on your hips and his mouth teasing your neck.

The bartender reappears on your side of the bar, his bald head gleaming in the lights of the club, and you snap back into reality. The flames tattooed across his knuckles shine as he slides a drink down the length of the bar, towards the DJ. An impulsive, reckless daring you've only ever felt before at debate tournaments makes you reach out and catch the glass of dark liquid before it can reach its desired recipient.

In one smooth motion you lift it to your lips and turn to meet the DJ's deep brown eyes. With a smirk you raise the glass. In two gulps you down the drink, the bourbon burning its way down your throat, reminding you how good it feels to be free, to be alive. 

To challenge someone who feels like a decent opponent.

He watches you, his eyes flaring with surprise before fading back to indifference. He looks like a tiger in a cage at the zoo, pacing in front of a glass divider. His fingers tap impatiently on the lacquered bartop and he tilts his head, watching as you lick the moisture from your lip, savoring the taste. You wonder if he'd be just as heady and strong on your tongue.

You have the feeling that with the slightest pressure in the right place and the glass would shatter, unleashing the beast within. The thought makes you clench your thighs together, a heat filling you that has nothing to do with the people pressing in on you trying to get the attention of the bartender.

The DJ seems just as self-contained as you are. A voice inside you whispers of unstoppable forces meeting immovable objects and you wonder which of you would cave first.

Before you can say anything, before you can even wipe the satisfied smile off your lips or ask his name or offer to pay for the drink, he drops a bill to the counter and slides off the stool. He pushes into the crowd, disappearing as if he'd never been there. As if he hardly noticed you.

But you didn't miss the interest, the arousal, the animal within him rising to your challenge. He slinks back up to the DJ booth and resumes his position of power, thirst unquenched.

You don't know his name, or anything about him. Aside from the fact that the way he looks at you feels so wrong it's right, and that his hands are the first ones you've ever wanted wrapped around your waist so badly you can feel it beating in your palms.

But you know one thing, as you rejoin your roommate on the dance floor, whatever has started between you and the enigmatic DJ isn't finished.

May 21st, 1997

You straighten your blazer, looking in the mirror to make sure your outfit is perfect. It’s not your first interview this week and it certainly won’t be the last, but it is the one you’re the most curious about.

The position as a receptionist and accountant for an electronics repair store isn’t exactly how you pictured your first job after getting your MBA, but the pay and the opportunity to work alongside the enigmatic tech genius Kim Jongdae is a chance you can’t pass up.

All that’s left is the graduation ceremony in June and then you’re free. Your final exams are done, your thesis is defended, and you’ve completed a thorough and perhaps slightly obsessive spreadsheet documenting all your connections who might have an in at your most desired companies. Now knee-deep in the process of interviewing for jobs it strikes you all of a sudden that this is what you’ve been working for… almost all your life.

The lighting in the bathroom of the mall is stark and a moment of uncertainty makes your knees weak.

Since your test results in elementary school came back top of the class it’s been the same refrain. Get good grades. Impress your teachers. Study and diversify your interests and push harder every year and eventually it will all pay off, right? You’re damn proud of what you’ve done, but now, here in the after, all you can think as you watch your own reflection is - now what?

Frowning, you wonder how many other applicants there are for this job. Anyone in the tech circle in Seattle knows about Jongdae. Rumors abound that he was set to be the next Bill Gates when an investment deal went south. Or that he was kicked out of Harvard for embarrassing his professors with his superior smarts. Someone in your Econ seminar once told you she’d heard that he was contracted by the NSA to spy on foreign hackers.

Whatever his history, he currently runs a computer and electronics repair store in a very unassuming mall in Capitol Hill. You want to stand out, and what better way to do so than the track down the mystery of Kim Jongdae, the prodigy turned hermit. You infuse your veins with confidence, knowing you can handle anything thrown at you. Or so you think.

The mall is quiet and peaceful in the mid-morning on a Wednesday. A couple of tables in the food court are filled with older men and women playing cards and board games. A group of moms walks past you talking about a storytime at the bookstore in the mall.

The slow and steady hum of activity in here is a far cry from where you thought you’d be working. Professors encouraged you to head to IBM or Oracle. With your skills, business sense, and intuitive ability to pick up each new trend in technology they told you that you would have your choice of opportunities.

But while you’re no stranger to hard work and a competitive work environment, the idea of clawing your way to the top of yet another group of high achievers just sounds… awful.

You long to travel, to finally see some of the exotic and culturally rich places you’ve stuck photos of to your fridge. You want to be able to actually go out on the weekends and see your friends. Whatever your future holds you want to finally enjoy your life outside of school and work, even if it’s only for a year.

You could always recognize the friends who were interning at Amazon because they looked like they’d come off a week of no sleep. Many of your fellow MBA graduates were flocking there, as the company finally went public earlier this month. But something just felt - off to you. Like a canary in a coal mine.

Purpose, fulfillment, financial security, and a challenging work environment? Yes.

Burnout, no free time, and living and breathing for ‘the company’? No, thank you.

At the salary Jongdae had advertised you could easily continue to afford the apartment you shared with your two roommates and work on paying off the remaining student loans your scholarships hadn’t covered. And you could hide away a small amount of your check every month for the trip to Amsterdam you’ve been planning for years.

The gentle music in the wide, bright lobby of the mall makes you sigh in relief. This job is a win-win and you’re more determined than ever to get it.

You finally see the shop. If you weren’t looking for it, you’d have missed it between the black and neon purple exterior of KMS Music and the narrow security office tucked behind the lively pizza restaurant. There’s a line winding its way in front of the music store and you assume it’s for an album release. Until you realize that the line is leading straight where you’re going and stop in your tracks.

Chen's Electronics. The mall is full of colors and bright shop fronts. But this is almost bleak in comparison, as though it's resisted the outright displays of joy and liveliness that seem to be at the heart of the mall. The sign is red neon against a black and steel facade. A simple poster hangs in one of the two wide windows that frame the door.

We do: - Hard Drive Repair - Internet Connectivity Issues - Computer virus protection - Turntables, record players, and other portable home audio systems - Radios - POS/credit card system repair (For stores in the Exodus Mall only)

We do not: - Sell computers or computer parts. Don't ask.

You raise a brow at the last note. The harsh exterior of the store and the brusque tone definitely match with what you've heard of Chen's Electronics - that the man who runs it is a computer genius, but that his bedside manner leaves much to be desired. Perhaps that's why the job posting emphasized 'superior customer service skills.'

The line you join grows, others coming in behind you, and you wonder if Jongdae told everyone the same 10am time frame or if he staggered interviews throughout the day. As you wait the line slowly dwindles. A woman leaves crying a few minutes later, and you watch her go with surprise and attempt to peek into the store. You’re still too far back to see in, so you’re left to wait and wonder.

Finally you’re next, waiting just outside the store. A printed piece of paper is taped to the door. CLOSED FOR INTERVIEWS it says in big, bolded letters.

The tall man who was ahead of you in line isn’t visible at either of the two work stations set up inside the shop. There must be a back room of some kind. You take the moment to check out the space. The store is organized chaos. Rows of shelves line each of the two walls, full of equipment - computers in various states of disassembly, old transistor radios, a VHS player, a few turntables, and endless coiled stacks of cords interspersed.

The walls above them and the two walls behind the work stations, on either side of the hallway leading to the back, are blank. No advertisements or personalized touches to make the business seem welcoming. Just bland, empty beige walls. One desk has only a computer, keyboard, and mouse. The other is full of parts and tools that extend over the desk to not one, but two shelving units behind it. Like Jongdae was in the middle of a project and the interviews are a rude interruption.

A muffled angry shout comes from the back, behind the gray curtain hung up over the entrance to the rear of the store. The tall man moves it aside with a sneer as he charges across the floor. With a voice practically a growl he shoves open the door and you jolt back to avoid being hit.

He looks you up and down and shakes his head. ‘Good luck. You’ll need it.’

After a last straightening of your jacket you swallow and push through the door. It's quiet inside, almost reverent, as the door closes behind you. The fluorescent lighting overhead isn't the most welcoming and the tan carpet is terribly dated. No one comes to meet you. The man on the other side must be waiting, like a dragon in his lair.

Your hand closes over the strap of your purse and you hesitate at the curtain, not wanting to move forward without being invited. 'Hello?'

Footsteps come down the short hallway and a hand appears, moving the curtain out of the way to reveal a man. Your jaw almost drops. Oh, shit. It's not at all who you were expecting the famed Jongdae to be - a studious man with glasses and a bad tie.

No, this man is handsome in an aggressive way. His black hair is styled back in a neat wave. His high cheekbones and strong brows hold no humor or friendliness. Only the catlike upturn of his lips stands in rebellious contrast to his unwelcoming face.

This isn't the first time you've seen this face either, you realize, and it's like being run over by a train. He seems to connect the dots at the same moment and his eyes widen, eyebrows raising. It’s the DJ from the bar. The drink. The - oh, god.

He presses his mouth together, smothering his surprise and sitting down harshly in the chair at the crowded desk in the main room. 'What are you doing here?' He keeps his voice tightly contained, not minding in the least that the other potential job candidates are surely watching you both right now.

You give yourself a small shake and remember you're not here to hit on him. You're here for a job. 'I have an interview.'

Best case is ignoring the whole thing. It didn’t happen. Not here in the light of day. His poker face might be good, but yours is better. You keep your breathing even and hope that the racing of your heart isn’t making your cheeks red.

He tilts his head to the side, pressing his lips together in amusement. ‘Alright then.’ Turning to the side he stands and holds the curtain open, allowing you to pass by him into the small office behind.

Holding his focus, you pull out the chair in front of the desk and sit down. You place the resume and references on the table between you and fold your hands on your lap, waiting.

Jongdae takes his place opposite you as he slides the papers across the desk. His eyes dart faster than you can imagine anyone reading. He doesn’t seem flustered, but the tips of his ears are just slightly pink, his nose flaring a bit too much, and you realize he’s just as caught off guard as you are.

Finally, he finishes. 'I… don't think this is going to work.' He looks up, his hand resting on your paperwork on the desk. His face gives away nothing, but his eyes are wild and full of emotion you can’t decipher.

'Why is that?' You keep your voice steady, determined. He’s not going to dismiss you so quickly. Realizing the DJ and the tech wunderkind are one in the same has only heightened your desire to show him you’re the best person for the job.

Jongdae stares at you. This time, there's heat in his expression. You feel his eyes move over you, not taking in the professional attire, but clearly remembering the dress you wore from the club instead. 'I think you know why,' he says under his breath.

Clearing your throat you lean forward, drawn to him by some force you can't define. Like something is shoving you towards this job. 'I don't know what you mean. The posting was for an office manager and bookkeeper. I'm qualified in both and I have plenty of experience. Are you really going to decide I’m not a good fit without even asking me a single question?'

He groans and runs a hand through his hair, his composure faltering for an instant. 'Why do you want this position? You know nothing about me.'

He states it like a fact, not an opening for discussion, but you jump on it anyway. 'I know plenty.'

Satisfaction blooms in your chest when he narrows his eyes, raising a brow. 'I do my research, Mr. Kim. I’m top of my class at UW and I didn’t get there by accident. With such a small team I could get a far broader experience than I could being just another cog in the machine at Microsoft. I might not know you personally, but your reputation precedes you. I plan to excel in the tech industry. And to do that, I need to work with the best. Simple as that.'

'And I'm the best?' He leans back in his chair. Resting his elbow on the armrest, he drags a finger across his lips in appraisal.

His quick responses remind you of the competitive tennis you played growing up. The way it felt to thrive when paired with an equal opponent, someone who could match your speed and precision. Someone who gave as good as they got. How it made you better, sharpened your skills and reflexes up against someone who you couldn’t easily defeat.

'Are you trying to tell me you're not?' You cross your arms and look around, feigning surprise and curiosity. 'If you tell me who is, I'll happily go apply to be their office manager.'

He almost laughs in amusement. You can feel it. But he covers it as a cough instead and tilts his head to the side, sizing you up. 'And you know what this job entails?'

You repeat it easily from memory. 'Being the face of the business. Greeting walk-in customers. Helping them figure out if what they need is something we do. Conferring with you about pricing. Scheduling service appointments over the phone. Processing payments. Ordering supplies. Occasional advertising assistance. Other assorted duties as needed.'

'That about sums it up.'

In the charged silence you hear the muffled noises of the mall - children squealing with delight, orders being called out at the pizza restaurant next door, people talking - but it's all separated. You wonder if the distance is intentional. Many stores have roll up gates or at least have their doors propped open to draw in customers. But not Jongdae. It’s almost as though he’s actively trying to keep visitors out.

You favor boldness and decide to push him, what have you got to lose? 'So, when do I start?' Leaning forward, you give him a relaxed smile. ‘Unless you’d like to terrorize a few more applicants before you choose me? I’m happy to wait, Mr. Kim. But you can’t scare me away. And you don’t intimidate me.’

With equal decisiveness he cracks a lopsided grin and shakes his head, with both amusement and resignation. 'How's now for you?'

You give a passing thought to the other jobs, the ones you’d already interviewed for and the ones on your schedule over the coming days. They all go up in a whiff of smoke as you extend your hand across the table to shake Jongdae’s hand.

‘Now is perfect.’ His palm is warm against yours and you do your best not to react to the contact, but you can’t help the soft sigh that escapes you.

Jongdae withdraws his hand quickly, and you note with pleasure that he seems a bit shaken as he stands. ‘I’ll be right back. You can leave your things here.’ He motions to the coat hooks on the wall by the door and the tall, thin bookshelf with a few cubby slots.

Aside from a black scarf and a few extra office supplies on two of the shelves the rest of the space is empty. You wonder what he isn't saying. 'What made you want help, all of a sudden?’ He pauses and turns back to you. ‘From what I can tell you've been in business for a few years. Why now?'

He sighs. 'I'm too busy to keep doing this by myself.'

'Ah. And you hate that, don't you?'

The ghost of a smile graces his lips. 'Yes.'

Jongdae disappears through the curtain. You follow him after putting your coat on a hook and your purse in one of the spotless cubbies. The rest of the space contains a few filing cabinets, stacks of boxes, and a small safe resting on a narrow table.

When you appear back into the hallway you see a door to the left that must lead out the back. And on the opposite side is an archway with a kitchen sink, a microwave, a small fridge, and a few cupboards inside, along with a small circular table. The table has only one chair. You smile to yourself. Clearly he's accustomed to doing everything by himself.

When you emerge the other applicants are dispersing as he peels the taped sign off the door, balling it up in his hands.

Jongdae gets you set up on the computer at the other desk. It’s a relatively simple customer management software and payment system, both of which you pick up in no time. He runs you through the pricing list, pulling a laminated form from the top drawer. His filing system for customer accounts is simple and alphabetized.

Neither of you speak about that night again, but oh, do you feel it - the electricity between you when he stands too close or you meet his eyes.

Until lunch he alternates between training you and assisting customers who come in every so often. It's all straightforward, nothing you haven't managed before, and by the afternoon you're already scheduling appointments in the large old-school appointment book he keeps open to the current week.

Despite the passion and intensity in the music he plays, he keeps an even keel throughout his day job. It's almost as if you went to sleep last night and somehow woke up as someone who's worked here for years. Before closing at 5:30 he remembers other things and hands you a packet on the way out. Tax forms, an employment agreement listing the salary and benefits, and a non-disclosure form. Most of it is standard, but you wonder what kind of secrets he needs to protect at an electronics store.

You gather your things and wait outside while he closes down the shop, turning off the lights as he goes. It’s still quite sunny outside and with a shock you realize that there’s nothing waiting for you, now that the work day is done. No papers to write or projects to finish or internship to head to. The idea makes you feel unexpectedly buoyant, and when Jongdae steps out to lock the doors you give him an easy smile.

He returns it, giving you a small one of his own in response. ‘So, I normally take Tuesdays off and keep the shop closed. Wednesdays are normally pretty slow. How does Thursday through Monday sound to you? I know today is Wednesday, so if you wanted to take tomorrow off instead that’s fine with me.’

‘I’m happy to come in tomorrow.’ You want to wince at the eagerness in your voice, but instead you stand firm, holding your purse in front of you with both hands.

Jongdae slides his hands into the pockets of his jacket and nods, looking at you for a long moment before speaking. ‘Sounds great, I’ll see you then.’

You nod at him too, turning back towards the department store to head out to your car. After a beat you look behind you and see he’s still watching. His gaze is unfocused on the floor before he shakes his head, seeming to come back to himself. He heads the opposite direction, towards the movie theater. In a few seconds he’s disappeared behind the pizza place, out of sight.

Jongdae takes the longer route home today. His apartment overlooking Lake Union is the one he grew up in, his grandfather’s place. When he passed away a year ago he left it to Jongdae and it never occurred to him to move. He walks along the water, breathing in the early summer air, wanting to laugh at himself. How long has it been since he let himself be impulsive? To act on instinct. To want something.

He’d settled into a routine these past few years, since everything changed after graduation. Working at the store. Reading. Playing Go and chess with his grandfather and the other older men that lived in the building. They’d go fishing out on the peninsula or to the local symphonies that his grandfather loved. Routine had saved him when his world fell apart once, but now, with his grandfather’s absence, he’s not sure how to pick up the pieces anymore.

The seagulls on the pier are loud today, hungrily gobbling up the bread and Ivar’s french fries tossed to them by the kids gathered around. They giggle and laugh, running to their parents for more offerings. Jongdae frowns for a moment, the sadness that he doesn’t often acknowledge creeping into his heart.

His parents were gone before he really even had a chance to know them. His father to lung cancer, from the awful smoking habit he picked up in the Navy. His mother moved back to Korea to be with her family, unable to cope being in the city without her husband. Jongdae didn’t blame her, but the distance grew and they drifted apart as he became an adult himself.

Jongdae’s father’s father settled here after World War Two, along with a few of his friends. From what he remembers there wasn’t a discussion about it after the funeral - if he’d stay or go back to Korea with his mother. One day when he was young he knew his father had passed. His mother left. And with two duffle bags slung over his shoulders and little Jongdae in his arms his grandfather had moved him into the apartment with the pretty view of the water. 

And that’s the way it was, ever since.

In school his friends might have joked that Jongdae was an old man himself. Doing the New York Times crossword puzzle on Sundays, getting his hair cut at the same hole-in-the-wall barber shop in Chinatown as his grandfather, and hanging out with more octogenarians than people his own age. But he loved his grandfather and the two of them were so close that he never stopped to question whether he should change to fit in with the rest of his classmates.

The only aberration came when he started DJ-ing at eighteen. The crowd he fell in with and the partying he did was short lived; they crashed and burned, went up in flames. Everything else faded as quickly as it had come, but the club scene was his escape and it stayed with him.

These days it feels like the only time he recognizes himself, now that his grandfather is gone, too. Until you walked into his store today, that is. You looked him dead in the eyes, unafraid. Just like the night all those weeks ago in the club when you came up to him, flirted with him and challenged him.

He doesn’t know how to move on with his life.

He doesn’t know what’s next.

But wanting you, inviting you into his life, is going to change everything. He knows it in his bones and for once change excites him, instead of frightens him.

June 18th, 1997

For an achingly slow two hours on Thursday the only sounds in the shop are your typing and Jongdae’s tools hitting the metallic insides of the radio he’s fixing. You should be processing yesterday's supply orders. Or cleaning up the books to get everything ready for the days' billing before you make a run to the bank.

But instead you watch in your periphery the way the muscle in Jongdae’s jaw moves when he's focusing. How his brows pull together and his lower lip sticks out slightly, making him look as though he's perpetually pouting. You wonder if you would have gotten along with him in school. If he was always so... uptight. Or if he was freer, looser. Not that you’re the picture of ease yourself, but he seems to almost vibrate with tension.

You watch as he turns back to the computer, his fingers fly across the keyboard and you admire the absolute focus he shows toward the screen in front of him. The past few days he’s handled repairs and projects for businessmen and women, families, and two gentlemen in suits that screamed ‘government’ to you. He could be repairing a nuclear warhead in front of you and you imagine his expression would remain the same.

His standard white button-up shirt bunches around his biceps while he works. A mischievous part of you wonders what it would take to make his robotic exterior crack again. What it would take for him to show joy or anger or arousal. Emotion from him is a precious, rare thing and you want to grab them when they do show, holding them tightly as proof they exist.

You jolt, realizing the unintended destination your thoughts have arrived at. Arousal. Where did that come from? With a cough and a shake of your head you refocus on the financial statements in front of you.

If you hadn't seen him that night at the club you'd have wondered if he ever enjoyed himself. He wasn't smiling that night, but the music and the dancing and the palpable energy seemed to soften the hard lines of his face. You want to see more of that Jongdae, the one that feels so much closer to who he really is, underneath it all.

However he started in this business, in the tech scene, he works away at it as though it's his sole purpose in life. He's clearly talented enough to fix anything, code anything. You’d asked him last week how he knows what to do, as you looked into a complicated mess of wires sticking out of a broken CPU as though it were gibberish.

All he’d said, in a gruff voice, was that his grandfather liked to tinker and take things apart before putting them back together, to see how they worked, and that he’d picked up the habit.

'Why do you work by yourself?' The sound of your voice is much louder than intended, breaking the hush in the store. You want to swallow the words, unsure why you didn't stop them from escaping. Instead you bite the skin on the inside of your cheek and watch as he lifts his head to look at you.

Jongdae raises a brow. 'As opposed to?'

You stop typing and lean back in your chair. 'You could have worked for anyone, I bet. After you graduated college. I’ve heard a few of the rumors about you. It sounds like you could have done anything you wanted. What made you want to start your own business?'

He mirrors your pose. 'What makes you think I went to college?'

You blink. For so long your parents' idea of a prosperous life - good grades, extracurriculars, graduate from a top college, get a lucrative, secure job - had been so ingrained that it surprises you to imagine that someone like him didn't go to school. 'You didn't?'

He smiles, the dimple appearing briefly in his cheek. 'Alright, fine. Yes, I did. I went to M.I.T. and I, uhm, graduated at seventeen.'

'Seventeen?' The competitive drive that buried itself in your bones early on wants to prove itself to him, awed by the size of his intellect.

'With my PhD.' He winces. Just for a moment, but you catch it.

'Oh,' you say with a stunned laugh.

He goes back to work with a quick shake of his head and a sigh. 'Yeah, that right there is why I don't tell people.'

You’re surprised by his assumption that you’d view it as a bad or repulsive fact. 'It's amazing. You should be proud of it. Why would you want to keep that a secret?'

His lip pouts again and irrationally you think about what it would be like to kiss him. 'Because now you'll look at me differently. Like I'm some kind of freak of nature.'

'I don't think it makes you a freak.' Your answer is immediate and emphatic.

'Oh really?' He gives you a side-glance, keeping his tone neutral.

'No, it makes you a genius. And intelligence is never a bad thing. Quite the opposite, in fact.' It does nothing to help the attraction you feel for him. Rather than dousing the flames, it pours gasoline on them.

'Tell that to -' he stops himself, pressing his lips together. The bitterness in his voice makes you jerk back in your seat. ‘Nevermind. It was a long time ago. Forget I said anything.’

But you can fill in the gaps, no stranger to the judgement of others. 'Clearly you need better friends.'

He blinks, vulnerability filling his eyes. 'Like you?' His expression softens and he gives you a half-smile.

You blush, realizing what it must look like that you’re so passionate about defending him. 'Sorry, I didn't - all I mean is that it’s attractive.’ You curse yourself and cough delicately, trying to appear impartial. ‘An attractive quality. I just got my master’s and I thought I was advanced for my age. So I just meant to say… I get it. And you’re not a freak.’

The moment stretches out between you, the air in the space seeming to pause. The muted, reverent silence fills the distance once more. But this time it’s charged, tense. Waiting. He breathes in deeply, the shirt he wears stretching across his chest and yet again you long to touch him. For a beat his gaze drops to your lips and he swallows, opening his mouth to speak.

But he’s interrupted by the door opening. The ding of the motion sensor makes you both jolt, turning to see who it is. An older woman comes in carrying a heavy looking bag. She coughs and leans against the door to rest.

Jongdae bolts up from his desk, clearing his throat. 'Here, let me help with that.'

He bows to her with a warm smile, holding his hands out to take the bag. She nods and Jongdae slings the bag over his shoulder, wincing when it collides with his back. With a gentle arm around her back he helps her into the chair opposite his desk.

'Thank you, young man,' the woman says with a smile.

'Not at all,' Jongdae says, resuming his post on the stool. 'How can I help you today?'

You're certain your mouth has fallen open. To difficult customers he's brief, almost condescending, and for the nice ones he’s reserved and polite, but nothing like this. For over an hour he patiently connects the woman's computer to his power strip and walks her through how to use it. 

Again and again he shows her the links and how to work the web browser. Installs a complimentary virus protection program. Makes sure she can find the Solitaire application she loves. And only charges her $20.

But after she leaves the next customer is a businessman dressed in what looks to be a very expensive suit. Jongdae spends the laughably short visit practically sneering at the man. And he charges him at least twice what it says on the pricing list he gave you.

As soon as the door closes you release the laugh you’ve been holding in. 'You know, for someone who runs a business, you seem hell bent on driving some of your customers away.'

He shakes his head, hair falling in his eyes. 'He was a moron. You don't buy the Rolls Royce of computers if you don't know how to drive it.'

'So the only exception here is kind old ladies?'

Jongdae barks out a laugh, meeting your gaze and looking younger than you’ve ever seen him. 'Exactly.'

June 28th, 1997

Moments after you walk out the door for lunch during a bustling Saturday it pings again, announcing yet another customer. This one is probably his scheduled twelve o’clock appointment, Jongade thinks as he looks distractedly at his watch.

He turns to greet them and his entire body recoils. 'What do you want?' Jongdae practically hisses, but he keeps his tone even with all his might.

Since you’ve taken over scheduling Jongdae hardly looks at his calendar anymore. If he’d known Julian Danforth was seeking his help he would have told him to fuck off. Unfortunately Jongdae’s hesitation in talking about his past means you could have no possible idea how much the man standing before him used to matter.

Julian strolls in with a computer in his arms and a smugness on his mouth that Jongdae wants to punch off. His sunglasses are perched on the top of his head and his khaki shorts have neatly pressed lines, clearly not done by the man himself, who drips with privilege.

He'd thought these feelings were long buried, but they roar in Jongdae’s chest. The friendships and the future he almost had are now scattered behind him like a trail of carnage, all the fault of this man. The burn of sadness and embarrassment that fills Jongdae’s stomach was supposed to be gone, relinquished to ashes. But seeing one of his former best friends again Jongdae feels like he's ten years old, stuck in a class with far older students. Young, inexperienced, an outcast.

‘Good afternoon to you as well, old friend.’ Ignoring the daggers Jongdae is staring at him, Julian steps forward, setting the computer down on the desk. 'Like I told the woman on the phone I'm having a problem with some computer virus.'

He says it like it’s a slimy, living thing that had crawled into his machine. Displeasure colors his expression; annoyed at the mere thought that his money and status don’t render him immune from such commonplace problems. ‘You know I don’t trust anyone else with my system.’

After what you did I should smash your computer open. Jongdae doesn't speak as plugs the machine into the power strip he rigged to his desk, not willing to risk what he’ll say.

It's a far more expensive model of computer than most of his clients bring in. Those who purchase such a high end version fall into two camps - enthusiasts like himself who know what they're getting, or the rich and famous who buy them as status symbols and have no clue how to work them. Julian, unfortunately, falls into the latter category.

The computer starts up and Jongdae’s mind goes into work mode, tuning out Julian. The virus has rendered it unusable, only a blur of symbols and lines of code flit across the screen. None of the normal exit keys brings up the desktop. Jongdae purses his lips and slides in the floppy disk he keeps beside his own monitor, an anti-virus he designed.

He leans into muscle memory as he runs through the start up and sets the program to do its job. With any luck the idiot just found some simple malware from some incredibly obvious email spam or downloaded a bug on a porn site. In all social and business sense Julian is a shark; he'd never have fallen for such an obvious scam in real life. But when it came to computers and technology he was hopeless, and thus Jongdae had come into his life years ago.

'How long have you been set up here?' Julian asks with a dismissive glance at the machines and equipment stacked on the shelves.

'Why do you care?' The question comes out harsher than he intends, but the emotion isn't entirely unearned.

Once upon a time he and Julian met in Seattle, after Jongdae was fresh out of M.I.T. and Julian had flunked out of yet another University. They were determined to build a business together. If he had more energy Jongdae would wear this store and his reputation proudly, built from no family connections or money, just his own intelligence and drive. After how thoroughly Julian severed Jongdae’s life he should rub his success in Julian’s face with pride.

Instead he ignores him, determined to move on.

The program finishes its run in rapid time, as though it knows how quickly Jongdae wants this moment to end. The virus dissipates and the desktop loads like normal. He's tempted for a second to indulge his curiosity to see what Julian has been up to. Last he knew Julian had gone to work at his father’s investment bank, dreams of standing on his own cowed by the reality of the world outside of his comfortable bubble. Without Jongdae there’s no way the business and the program held up to scrutiny. 

For a second Jongdae stares at the screen, remembering how good it had felt to have found his people. Tech nerds, hungry to build something that would change the world. Julian, who wanted to cast off his father’s legacy and strike out on his own. Julian’s girlfriend Marissa and her soft heart, who wanted to help people. Their friend Albert, with the plan. 

Once he knew them so well he hardly knew where he ended and they began. But now, all these years later, they’re strangers.

Jongdae looks up and watches Julian as he absently admires the collection of turntables on the wall behind the desk. He knows Julian well enough to know this might be an act of contrition, his way of bridging the gap he created to reach out the olive branch of friendship once more. But Jongdae’s curiosity already killed the cat once, spectacularly, and he has no desire to repeat the mistake.

He unplugs the machine and watches the screen go dark, shoving it with both hands across the polished wood surface towards Julian. 'There. It's fixed.'

For customers who are far more polite and far less acquainted with Jongdae he might have explained what caused the virus or recommended an anti-virus software or even shared best practices to avoid getting one in the future. But, for Julian, he'll do what he was hired for and nothing more.

Julian stands and clears his throat uncomfortably. 'How much do I owe you?' A hint of guilt as he pulls out his wallet.

The motion reminds Jongdae of vacations to Marissa's family home in the San Juans or partying with Julian, Albert, and the rest of them in Capitol Hill. When they turned on him it was like the sun went out. He managed to take his pride and his love of music and DJing and escape. Once Jongae rebuilt his life the doors to the past firmly closed.

Anger finally peeks through as he waves a dismissive arm at Julian. 'I don't want your money. Not spending a second longer in your company will be all the payment I need.' He stands as well. Their business today is done and he lets his memories of the past fall before him like ashes.

An awkward beat passes between them and finally Julian breaks eye contact. With a nod to the ground he pushes out the door and disappears, carrying his computer.

He breathes out a sigh of relief, folds his arms, annoyed at how his position and his continued presence here in Seattle occasionally brings him into contact with people like Julian. He should have moved, he thinks. Gone to Singapore or Berlin or London or New York. But for some reason, he stayed.

Through the front window he watches you laugh with your friends in the food court and smiles to himself, thinking of how you call him Scrooge. It should unnerve him, how quickly seeing you or speaking to you or simply thinking you makes his day better, more hopeful; chases away the shadows that linger in his mind when he's left alone for too long. No, left alone isn't the right word. When he isolates himself.

Jongdae doesn’t really know you, not yet. But already he wants to make all of your dreams come true, he wants to make them real. 

The thought is so sentimental and kind and soft that it brings him up short. He bites the inside of his lip and tries to fight the warm feeling in his chest as he watches you laugh. But as he resumes his work he acknowledges that maybe there was a reason he stayed in Seattle, after all.

The mall is packed during lunch; it’s one of the only days you and your roommates and Hitchcock all work together so you’ve christened it Saturday girl’s lunch time. But Baekhyun and Chanyeol of course crash in, as they always seem to. Loud and raucous and happy. Others from their wide circle of friends drop by to grab slices or to make plans for tonight.

Baekhyun sticks two straws in his nose and makes what are probably very scientifically inaccurate walrus noises. As you laugh so hard you almost snort you can’t help but feel like something is missing. Someone is missing. You look back to the shop, drawn to Jongdae as always.

He works away, resuming his repairs after chasing another customer away with his attitude. You sigh, watching the blonde preppy man carry away his enormous computer, muttering to himself. You rest your foot on the edge of your chair and drop your chin to your knee. From this angle, surrounded by the stark design of the store and the fluorescent lights from above, Jongdae looks like he’s trapped inside of a screen himself.

You bite your lip, debating. He’s made it clear that whatever happened between you at the club isn’t something he will discuss, or repeat. But friendship? Community? You work together five days a week and it wouldn’t kill him to get out of his enclosure once in a while. It’s done you good this month, to be out and about with people. Like you can finally breathe for the first time in a long time. And you decide that it’s high time Jongdae do the same.

Liz and Jane, your roommates, call you ‘determined.’ But they say it in a way that clearly means ‘like a homing missile,’ when you want something. Your nature has served you well; you can cut through the bullshit and figure people out almost instantly. It’s helped you both professionally and personally. Allowed you to know immediately which friendships would last, which ones were worth the effort.

Maybe it’s how Jongdae looks like an island, all alone in the shop. Maybe it’s the large Coke that infused you with far too much caffeine. Maybe it’s your insatiable curiosity. But you can’t keep watching him from afar, not when there’s something you can do about it.

‘I’ll be right back.’ Pulling on your denim jacket, you march over to the store. You lean inside the glass door, holding it open with your shoulder. ‘Hey, you.’

Jongdae looks up at you, confusion tugging his brows together, making him befuddled in the cutest way. You tell yourself to stop thinking of him like that, even if you want to.

He blinks and refocuses on you. ‘Back already?’

‘No, but we’ve got more than enough pizza. Why don’t you join us?’ You grin, making a show of looking around the empty office. ‘It’s finally slowed down, and you deserve a break.’

‘I’m on a deadline with this.’ He gestures to the modem that is scattered around him.

You fold your arms and lean against the door. ‘You can fix that in twenty minutes. I know you.’ He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. ‘And before you throw another excuse you should know I’m very persuasive when I want to be. I don’t think you have another option.’

Jongdae barks out a laugh, dropping the tools in his hand to the desk with a thud. ‘Determined to drag me from my lair, huh?’ He holds your gaze, his expression filling with something akin to heat. Finally he gives you a rueful smile. ‘You’re not going to give up on this, are you?’

You meet his eyes and raise a brow, smiling with satisfaction. ‘Nope. Absolutely not.’

The certainty on his face turns into sadness, so fast you can’t be sure it was really there. Then he closes off and he’s quiet, more so than normal. ‘It doesn’t come easily to me.’

Wondering what could have changed so quickly you step forward, letting the door close behind you. ‘What, pizza?’

It shakes you how desperately you want to know. To peel back his skull and see inside his brain, just to understand what makes him tick. His history and where his future is headed. That small voice inside you whispers that once you figure it out, it still won’t make you care less about him.

‘Friends.’ He says it on a gasp. Looking at the floor fixedly, avoiding your eyes, he seems haunted.

The silence surrounds you both and he finally meets your focus again, chewing on the inside of his cheek. The pieces start to come together. He’s intelligent, preternaturally so, and so advanced in school you can’t imagine he’s had much experience with people his own age. And now that he’s in his mid-twenties he’s built himself a fortress. Close enough to the rest of the world, but distinctly separate.

Irrationally you want to reach across the space and wrap his hands in yours. Tug him into your growing group of friends and fix the ache in your chest his expression gives you. Not sympathy and certainly not pity, but some sensation that’s like butterflies in your stomach. But- he’s your boss. You’re not his keeper and you don’t think whatever dangerous emotion lives in you is what would help him.

He’s not yours and you don’t have the right to push, much that you want to.

‘Ah,’ you say. ‘I see. Well, more often than not we have Saturday pizza out there. The offer always stands. I’ll leave you be if you want to be alone, but just -’ you swallow and give him a tentative smile. ‘Just know that we’d be happy to have you join us. I’d be. Uhm. Happy if you joined us.’ It comes out in a rush and you groan.

With a shake of your head, an uncharacteristic gesture of uncertainty and embarrassment, you wave at him and push back out the door into the noise of the mall.

It’s a shame you don’t turn back. Or no, he thinks, it’s better this way. Jongdae feels far too much for you to keep it contained behind his normally stony expression.

You seem like the kind of person who would take that moment of openness and pull on it, until he unravels in front of you. Fear tells him you would take everything and when you're gone he'd be even more alone than before, now that he knows what it's like with you here.

Looking out through the glass he watches you rejoin the lively group. Always he’s felt like a science experiment, or some kind of circus exhibit when he was growing up. If he didn’t have his grandfather’s steady support and gentle guidance he surely would have become even more isolated.

With a shake of his head, he attempts to refocus on the project at hand. For some reason it doesn't fill him up like he wants it to, his usual joy and satisfaction is missing when he picks up the screwdriver once more. This is where he thrives. Computers and the internet and coding.

To other people it's a labyrinth, impossible to figure out. A world and a language they can speak and learn with effort and intention and study. But to him it's always been as easy as breathing.

His grandfather took his skills from the military and parlayed them into a business as a prolific handyman. It was the world they shared. A place where Jongdae’s creativity and his intelligence could soar. Anything he wanted to build or make, he could. Coding a rudimentary game to pass the time after school, when he could hear the neighborhood kids playing soccer outside.

It took him many wonderful places that he wouldn't have been able to reach if he was, for lack of a better word, normal. As a child and even in school it was so easy to hide behind his grades and his projects and the pride and hope of the adults around him. But now, at twenty five, there’s nothing to keep him hidden anymore.

When lunch is over you return and join him with a nod. He hopes you don't regret asking. He nearly hopes you'll try again. Maybe next Saturday.

For how confident he feels in some spaces - DJing at Shari's, here in his ‘lair’ - at the thought of joining a group of friends he feels again like a nervous thirteen year old sitting in his first college course. Like everyone around him knew how to do things he couldn’t comprehend.

He keeps his thoughts and his feelings to himself; he’s already shared more than he planned. But you draw him back into conversation easily enough, asking about the afternoons orders to be picked up. You don't shy away from him or give him an angry offended air. Inexplicably you still look at him warmly, openly, and he wants more than he's dared to let himself want in a very, very long time.

July 11th, 1997

He doesn't normally leave the office at lunch, preferring to eat his meals in his back office alone, but today Jongdae braves the food court.

It’s a Friday not a Saturday, but it’s a start. He makes brief, yet friendly, conversation with Chanyeol at the pizza place. The taller man smiles at Jongdae, easily, as though he doesn’t second guess the action. He asks if Jongdae had caught the Mariner's game over the weekend and they talk about how Griffey might finally lead Seattle to a World Series this year.

For once he doesn't feel like going back to the office and burying his head in his work. Jongdae awkwardly pulls out a chair in the cluster of tables between the bookstore and the record store. As he takes a bite of his pizza he hears a familiar laugh. Turning around he sees you through the glass of the bookstore.

You speak to the woman who owns Greyhame Books, standing beside someone he thinks is possibly called Jane. It all seems so… easy for you. Tucking your hair behind your ear you lean against the counter, discussing the stack of books in front of you with your friends.

Jongdae gives a rare laugh to no one but himself.

When he imagined hiring an accountant and administrator for his flourishing business he thought he'd get someone older. A person with experience and a similar level of wanting to be left alone. They could ignore him and he could ignore them, delegating filing and payments and customer questions and not have to think about them again.

An employee was supposed to reclaim the silence and peace that his work used to bring. Technology is so much simpler and predictable than humans and he’d really prefer to cut other people out of the equation entirely.

But you are the opposite of simple, and you absolutely aren’t someone he can ignore. From the moment he recognized you he knew he had to hire you. With your intensity and your impressive resume and the way your mouth pulls to the side when you’re trying not to smirk.

He doesn't regret it. But he feels raw in a way he hasn't allowed himself to in years. Jongdae doesn't let people get close. Not anymore.

'Hey, Jongdae!'

With a pizza slice halfway to his mouth Jongdae spots Junmyeon approaching, waving, a large Starbucks drink in hand.  He wants to turn away and hide in his pizza. He isn't good at this - making friends. For months Junmyeon has asked him to join in their monthly networking events here at the mall, or asked him to get a drink at Flanagan’s after work to chat. Jongdae’s all out of excuses.

He imagines his life as a circuit board. There’s his life now - pieces and wires scattered around him - and there’s the life he could have. If he’s brave and if he tries. He imagines the pieces fitting together and what they might build. He wonders if you might fit in, if you’d want him or let him.

His knee is jiggling and he’s nervous, but he takes a deep breath and waves back. ‘Hey Jun! Want to join me for a bit?’ Jun’s expression is surprised - the man doesn’t know how to keep back any of his emotions. ‘If you have time, I mean. No pressure.’ He stutters, pulse racing and cheeks reddening.

Jun grins and sits down opposite him. ‘Absolutely. About time! I thought you’d turn me down forever,’ he laughs. ‘Thanks again for helping me with that broken radio last month. You’re a pro. So, how’s business?’ He sips his coffee and waits patiently.

They can talk about business, something so easy? Jongdae wants to laugh with relief. Maybe he can do this after all.

Junmyeon is amused.

After ten minutes of talking shop with Jongdae he watches as you and Jane leave the bookstore next to their lunch spot. He’s owned a business two doors down from Jongdae for years, but he’s never seen him smile before. When you pass by it’s like someone flipped on a light switch. Jongdae has always been somewhat quiet, somewhat serious, except when he DJs. Now he sits straighter, his face softens, and his eyes fixate on yours like a magnet.

The two of you claim the other seats at the table, showing off the books you purchased. In between sips of his coffee Junmyeon balances his own flirtation with Jane and observing - okay, spying - on you and Jongdae.

He’s warmed by not just the caffeinated beverage. There’s a soft energy here- It’s a warm summer day and he’s discussing books, one of his all-time favorite topics. His mind whispers the words ‘double date’ and he smiles to himself for a moment before blinking.

“Are you alright?” Jane asks, gently resting her hand on Junmyeon’s wrist on the table.

He blushes and gives her a reassuring nod and asks if she’s read the Octavia Butler book on top of her stack yet. It’s an attempt at distraction and he knows it. But thankfully Jane’s eyes crinkle in the corners when she talks about the author, not pausing or seeming to notice the way he was fantasizing for a beat.

Across from him you and Jongdae are arguing about the merits of Isaac Asmiov. Jongdae is more articulate, more animated, more alive than he’s ever seen him. Gesturing emphatically and saying something about how robots are friends, not foes as you interrupt him by reminding him about Terminator. Neither of you seem to acknowledge the attraction between you. It’s been months since you started working at Chen’s, if Junmyeon remembers correctly.

In his periphery he sees Temptation, the chocolate store, and thinks of how Yixing and his girlfriend met on the job. One of his favorite poems mentions how love mirrors the lover; that everyone falls in love in a way akin to their personality. Yixing, passionate and insatiable and spontaneous, fell for Lavender in minutes and days. He saw what he wanted and after a slight pause to make sure it’s what Lav really wanted, he made the move.

Jongdae is nothing if not the complete opposite. Calculating and reserved and inscrutable.

His potential new friend is falling, if the lingering looks he gives you and the way he’s almost touched your shoulder not once but twice are any indication. But it’s a mystery to Junmyeon if, or when, Jongdae will ever make a move. You aren’t the same kind of romantic as Yixing’s girlfriend, someone playful and open with your emotions. You’re driven and witty and warm in your own way. Clearly you care for Jongdae, but in a quieter sense.

Junmyeon imagines this will be a marathon of love, not a sprint.

Eventually lunch hours end for all of you. There’s clients to see and paperwork to do and as he waves to you and Jane he wonders what will become of you and Jongdae. If you’ll stay as co-workers, always flirting and secretly wondering what might be. Or if either of you will push the other into action. The chess board is laid out, pieces waiting to be moved. It might just be his imagination, but Junmyeon hopes that one of you gets the game going.

He does also, perhaps, focus on you and Jongdae as a way to ignore how his own heart beats a bit faster around Jane. How he can’t stop staring at her dimple when she smiles or the head tilt she gives him when she’s really listening. Like he’s the only person in the world. No, he absolutely doesn’t think about Jane’s feet i n his lap as they both read on the couch in his living room. He doesn’t wonder what it would be like to kiss her or hold her hand. Absolutely not.

Instead he invites Jongdae to the monthly Settlers of Catan night he has with Minseok and some other folks from the mall. Much safer territory than wondering about his own love story and if still waters truly do run deep where he and Jane are concerned.

August 11th, 1997

On a surprisingly rainy yet unsurprisingly dead Monday morning Jongdae forces you away from your insistent attempts to organize his paperwork to the market a few streets over. The quiet bakery on the hill above Pike Place has a view of the misty Sound beyond. He sits close beside you, carefully keeping his knees away, lest he bump yours and you do the same, perhaps letting them linger a moment each time they collide.

It’s nice here, you notice suddenly, as you take the first sip of your coffee. The smell of dark roast and fresh almond scones. The breeze coming in through the open door. The soothing, distant sound of jazz from the overhead speaker. The pleasant warm lighting, far different than the aggressively bland fluorescent kind he chose for Chen's. Everything puts you at ease, wraps around you the way you wish Jongdae’s arms would.  

'This place reminds me of Amsterdam.' You smile, looking down into your cappuccino to avoid Jongdae’s eyes.

‘Have you ever been?’ he asks, voice softer than it normally is.

With a shake of your head you trace the edge of the teal and white ceramic cup in front of you. ‘No, but I’ve seen pictures. I used to love photo books growing up. Atlases and travel guides. It’s always been my favorite section of the library.’

He hums for a moment, considering. 'If you could go anywhere in the world, is that where you'd choose?'

Tucking your hair behind your ears you bite your lip to avoid grinning at him. He’s making you remember long-forgotten parts of yourself. Before school and work became the end point, the be-all end-all that your life was funnelled towards. Back when you imagined exploring every country on the planet. Taking photos and making memories. A long time ago, in the days before you realized how expensive it is to actually be a wanderlust-filled adventurer.

Finally you look at him. Something in his irises makes you swallow; an endless, nameless emotion that lives in him you can never seem to place. Elusive and frustrating and tempting all at once.

‘Yes,’ you admit. Voice dry and heart racing you look back to your coffee in avoidance. ‘It’s my dream to travel there. I’m a bit obsessed with it, really.’

'You? Obsessed?' Jongdae smirks, a boyish grin you want to cover with your own mouth.

You roll your eyes, tracing the handle of your mug. 'Hush. It's such a beautiful city with all the canals and the architecture and history, and the food is to die for. Every quaint European city fantasy in one. What about you, have you done much traveling?'

He shakes his head. ‘Not personally. But - my grandfather went everywhere in Europe, after the war.’ His admission is so quiet you almost miss it. But it’s as if your soul is waiting for every crack in the door to Jongdae you can find, and you don’t pass up the opportunity. ‘What was he like?’

It happens sometimes, when you’re working together. The times there’s no customers around and the mall gets empty and you can’t help but be aware of him. Against your skin and with your hands, eyes feasting on him when the rest of you is forbidden from doing so. In the moments when he isn’t putting on airs of being the tech mogul or the reclusive jerk or the awkward, secretly friendly nerd around Jun or Minseok.

Those times when Jongdae meets your eyes and you see the real him, beneath it all. Wanting and alone and scared. Your breath catches in your throat just as it does now and you long to ask him plainly if he feels the way you do. Being honest with your words and not just your jokes or looks out the corner of your eyes when you catch him watching you too.

But those feel too fragile, too dangerous to utter. So instead you ask him about his family, someone close enough to Jo ngdae’s heart to glimpse the core of him; like a sun during an eclipse you can only look for a moment, lest you get burned.

'My grandfather?’ Brows furrow, the corners of his cat-like lips tilting down for a moment. You nod gently, cupping your drink for something to occupy your hands.

Jongdae looks out at the water for a moment, his mouth tugging to the side as he ponders. ‘You know when you finally solve a puzzle you’ve been working on for ages? Hours of struggling to find the right combination and finally it’s all laid out, perfectly in alignment.’

You nod, trying not to smile and ruin the moment, but softened by him nonetheless. ‘Yeah, I know what you mean.’

When his gaze lands on your hands he pauses, like he’s wondering if the two of you might fit in a similar way. But it’s gone before you can grasp onto the moment. Sadness colors his features then. Not the aching kind that gnaws away like a feral monster, leaving nothing in its wake, but the beautiful, bittersweet sadness of a love greater than grief.

His voice is thick when he next speaks. ‘My grandfather was that person for me. We just - fit. He understood me better than my parents did. More than any of my classmates or the few people I’ve ever gone out with. We didn’t even need to speak.’ Jongdae pauses and taps his fingers on the counter.

You give in and reach for his hand, not to hold it - not yet. But to cover it with your own for a moment of understanding, of comfort.

He smiles at you, the crease between his brows disappearing for a moment. ‘He was fifty one years older than me and he was my best friend.’

‘I’ll bet you miss him quite a lot?’ You realize how incredibly inadequate the sentiment is and shake your head, moving to withdraw your hand. ‘Sorry - that’s - of course you miss him.’

But Jongdae doesn’t let you retreat. With his free hand he holds yours in place. Warmth floods your body from the connection point and you’re unable to take your eyes off him. ‘It’s alright, I know what you mean.’ He traces your thumb with a barely there motion, seemingly without intending to. ‘Thank you.’

‘For what?’ You ask, a bit breathless and unable to mind.

‘For always asking. For always listening.’ He says it simply, as though it’s a novel concept. Perhaps, given what you know of his life, who he is, not many people dare to ask. Or bother to listen.

Soon paperwork and customers and regular life draw you back to Chen’s Electronics. He doesn’t mention the way you reached for him and you don’t either. But when you go to leave that afternoon Jongdae holds out your jean jacket for you to slip on. And when you thank him he gives you the soft, secret grin you’ve learned he saves only for you.

On the way home you think that Amsterdam might be the most beautiful city you can imagine, but that it pales in comparison to a hole-in-the-wall cafe in Seattle, as long as Jongdae is seated beside you.

September 9th, 1997

The summer turns into fall and one Monday evening, seemingly without his noticing, Jongdae realizes that his appointment book is full to bursting.

On Tuesday night he's playing Settlers of Catan with Minseok, Bookworm, Kyungsoo, and Junmyeon. They meet up in the food court after the mall closes at nine, second Tuesday of every month.

Wednesday he has lunch with Jun and some other business owners in the mall for their monthly networking/commiserating 'sesh' as Yixing calls it. That afternoon he's promised to help Minseok install the new upgrades to his store's database software that 'make him want to rip out his hair' in exchange for a few coveted LPs Jongdae's had his eyes on for a 70’s/grunge remix set at Shari's.

Thursday night there’s a L.A. Confidential screening at the theater that Baekhyun talked him into, after their argument about whether or not Russel Crowe could actually act or if he was just handsome.

Saturdays are pizza and raucous laughter to break up the busy weekends full of work and clients and deadlines, followed by long nights of DJ-ing and circling you as if you are a sun, drawing him in with the pull of your gravity. He’s merely a comet attracted by the force you give off and he’s not even upset at the realization.

Sehun, Jongin, and Yixing practically bribed him into joining their 'Sunday morning brunch and biceps' workout group, saying that they need a fourth and everyone else is normally sleeping off their hangovers or works the opening shift.

It’s other people’s names all over his schedule, but what he feels is you. Everywhere, all over him. He knows it’s you. Not intentionally, perhaps. But you opened a door for him with your ease and generosity. One Saturday pizza lunch and somehow he’s gotten to know more people in two months at the mall than he had in the years before combined.

You’d wave him off if he mentioned it or thanked you. With that adorable tilt of your head you would smirk and tell him that all he has to do is give people a chance. That they don’t bite.

Irrationally he wants to do things for you - not just as a friend but in the romantic sense - like buy you flowers or have you by his side at Thursday movie screenings or take you to Amsterdam, just to watch you bloom among the flowers. But that would be… crazy, right? He sits in his favorite armchair unable to focus on the book in front of him and runs agitated hands through his hair.

He’s not your boyfriend or your partner. He’s your boss or your co-worker and possibly your friend. Why does he think of holding your hand and walking along the canals of some foreign city every time you look in his direction?

Why does the once-comforting quiet of his apartment feel more and more empty when you’re not laying on the couch across from him, reading and teasing him? Why does he wake up and wish that someone besides himself filled his bed? Someone with your expressions and your joy and your stubborn insistence.

He briefly makes a mental note to ask Yixing how he ended up dating Lavender before suddenly tossing the book to the floor, standing with a groan.

‘What a ridiculous idea!’ he yells aloud to the empty apartment. Jongdae paces circles in the carpet of his living room and wonders if part of being in love is going slightly insane, if everyone who manages to do so finds the madness enjoyable or if love is simply folie à deux?

He looks at his calendar, spread open on his grandfather’s old, wooden desk and tries to comprehend how his life could be so different one year to the next. Like he’s grasping at straws or wisps of air. Aside from work and his grandfather and music, what did he have before? The occasional alumni event or guest lecture at his alma maters?

For a minute his chest feels too full to breathe, unable to let in anything more. Panic tugs at him for a second. It’s too much, all at once - too many people and too many events. Too many opportunities to mess up and these people? He can’t sever his life completely like he did from Julian and his friends. They're so connected to this space he's made his business in. What will happen when he inevitably falls out of favor with them?

He imagines himself shunned and the idea hurts worse than before. Back then he had chosen isolation; to have it thrust unwillingly upon him, unasked, is too much to comprehend.

Once he walked naively into friendship, believing it was easy and that it would last. That there was no rug that would be unceremoniously swept out from under him. But people change, faster than he can believe.

Jongdae sits on the floor, his pajama pants brushing his crossed legs, and forces himself to steady his breathing. These people are not his old friends at Microsoft, he reminds himself. Nor are they the kids in school who teased him, or his classmates in college who resented him or treated him like an annoyance.

Like he’s always practiced, he turns to facts to calm his mind. He’s safe - the apartment is his and he has plenty of money. Not just from his business but from his grandfather’s life insurance. If he wanted to leave - if he was forced to, he thinks he could do it. But something within him howls at the idea of leaving what he has now.

For the first time in ages he has ideas, plans, and dreams for what to do with his life. Now he has people he cares about, people who he trusts to be kind rather than fearing they’ll betray or leave him. You’re at the center of it, if you let him. Determination takes hold of him and doesn’t let go. After a few moments his panic subsides, washed away by the bright promise of a future he’s never dared to imagine before now. Before you.

September 13th, 1997

By the end of your second drink you contemplate being the one to risk it all and ask Jongdae out.

In the months you’ve worked together you stopped seeing him as a challenge and started viewing him instead as the push to your pull. The yang to your yin. The - you sip on your rum and coke and get lost in the tug of his brows and the set of his lips as he spins rather than finding another apt metaphor.

The first time you met him you knew there was something underneath his hard exterior, but you had no idea how correct you’d be proven. Somehow he walks the tightrope between being harsh and being softer than you thought possible. But rather than turn you off you find you’re drawn to his bewildering mix of wry humor, nerdy fixations, and raw emotion. It unlocks all the jagged parts of you that you try to keep so nicely pressed together.

For someone who has been deemed too much to handle finding a man who seems to do it with ease is staggering. He loves your bossy, charismatic nature and your ideas about new things to try at the store. He listens intently when you rattle off obscure facts about your favorite books and movies. He sees your dreams of traveling, of being part of community here, as a complement, not a detriment to your professional career.

A voice startles you. “So when are you going to jump his bones?” Baekhyun is the kind of puppy dog, glowing cheeks, wide-eyed endearing drunk you wish you could hate.

He waggles his brows at you and you snort, shoving him away with your shoulder. “I have zero idea what you’re talking about.”

You weave your way around the perimeter of the dance floor, trying and failing to not fixate on Jongdae with every step.

“Come on. Admit it. You’ve got a thing for the DJ.” His mouth tugs into a smug grin and you groan. “And word on the street is he wants you too.”

“He’s my boss.” The last of your drink burns your throat and you belly up to the bar to order another. “Get real.”

Always a hoe for gossip, Baekhyun leans one elbow against the bar and drops his chin into his hand to watch you. Rather than speak and risk your wrath again he merely looks between you and Jongdae, waiting.

You pride yourself on not giving into temptation for all of ten seconds and then blurt out - “What are you doing?”

Baekhyun presses his lips together to suppress a grin. He raises a finger and holds it up. “You’ll see.”

The bartender is tied up with a group at the far end so you sigh and turn, resting your back against the bar top. With folded arms you observe the club. “We’re about to be abducted by aliens? Jongin’s going to breakdance? Minseok and Bookworm are -”

He clicks his tongue. “So impatient. You two really are a match made in heaven.”

“Me and Jongdae?” If you weren’t already buzzed you’d deny it more. But the permission to speak openly about your feelings for the DJ is too tempting. “You think so?”

Before he can tease you again a motion up ahead catches your focus. Jongdae looks up without tilting his head. His eyes cut to the left, to the two overflowing booths that are filled with the usual crew from the Exodus Mall. With amusement you follow his eye line as he scans the dance floor, looking for something. He never breaks the movement of his hands, spinning the vinyl and working the controls.

Finally his focus lands on you and Baekhyun at the bar. Jongdae’s eyes widen and that unreadable expression settles on his features, no emotion escaping. Your heart picks up, cheeks heating with awareness. There’s nothing to do but hold his gaze for long seconds while the club pulses with life around you. Isolated and together, even across the room.

And then Baekhyun ruins it.

With a comically large wave he smiles at Jongdae. The motion breaks Jongdae’s focus and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head at his friend’s ridiculousness. A smile tugs at his lips and he gives you a look of commiseration and you laugh, reaching over to ruffle Baekhyun’s blonde hair.

The song changes and Jongdae finally looks away. A second later the bartender appears, asking you for your next order. Baekhyun waits patiently beside you, arms folded against the bar, his smugness a tangible thing in the air between you two.

You bite your lip and look at yourself in the mirror behind the bar, visible between the clear shelves of liqueurs and syrups. Could he feel the same way? Does Jongdae imagine holding you, kissing you, being with you the same way you do with him in your unguarded moments?

The two of you already do so much together - work five days a week. Meals alone or with friends. Nights here, separate but still united in the bubble of the dance club. It strikes you just how thin the line is between friends and coworkers and … something more. A four-letter sinful word that starts with L and implies dangerous things like hands touching hands followed by lips and skin and teeth. A different four-letter word full of softness and commitment that has no place being in your mind at the same time as Jongdae’s name.

A hand rests gently on your shoulder. “I told you,” Baek says sincerely. He disappears after waggling his damned eyebrows one more time and leaves you at the bar, wondering.

Half of you wants to confess to him out of genuine affection and desire for connection; you can’t escape the way he makes you long to be reckless and daring and bold and romantic in the kind of grand gesture sense that you’d have rolled your eyes at before you met him. The delicate balance makes your palms sweat and your glass shake slightly as you raise it to your lips. From nerves or excitement or a mix of the two.

You could make the first move, but the logical half of your mind wins out. Instead you swallow your drink in three gulps and head over to the DJ booth to talk to him and nothing more. Close enough to be comforted by his nearness but keeping your desire closeted behind your fear. Tonight that’s all you can manage.

Passing by Yixing and Lavender dancing is a reminder of all the good love can bring. Yixing’s hands holding her close, her arms folded around his neck and their foreheads together. Intimate words are shared that aren’t meant for your ears, even if you could hear them over the sound of the music.

But just beyond is Baekhyun and Hitch. She laughs and dances out of his way as he tries to tickle her. They’re obviously in love to anyone who watches, so why haven’t they admitted it and had a go at being together? Maybe it’s for the best, you wonder. If trying and failing and ruining what you have it worse than never trying at all.

Before you can wander too far down the road of doubt and consequences you remember how it felt to have Jongdae’s hand on top of yours. The thought of tomorrow and the days after disappear altogether when you feel Jongdae’s eyes on you once more, drawing you closer to him, whether he knows his effect on you or not. When you reach the booth you decide to stop thinking in general, and let yourself feel instead.

Saturday night and he's in his element. In the booth, far away from the rest of the crowd but still a part of it. Adrenaline in his veins. Music is Jongdae’s therapy. An alter ego much like the comic book characters he read about growing up. It's the skin he can put on when he's tired of being himself. A place where he can set down the baggage of his identity for a night and get lost in the beats.

He closes his eyes, savoring the pattern of the vinyl beneath his fingertips.

Suddenly, he feels you. Of course you're here. He's never free from you, he thinks with a rueful smile. First you invaded this place, his escape and his temple. Then you wormed your way into his business as though you always belonged there. Now you're occupying his senses the way you occupy his thoughts at all hours.

For a beat he admires you, standing at the bar rolling your eyes while Baekhyun waves dramatically. He drinks you in with a last look at your fabulous legs before reluctantly turning back to switching out one album for the next. Lately you’ve taken to joining him for a bit while he spins and he hopes that once again you’ll come up to the booth tonight.

He's not a patient man, or a subtle one. If he wanted to be rid of you, you'd be gone. Severed with the kind of brutal finality he showed to anyone from his time after M.I.T. There are no second chances as far as he's concerned. But still, you remain. Infuriating, exhilarating. Never far from his consciousness.

'You look like you're having a good time!'

Sooner than expected your voice breaks his trance and he lifts his eyes to look at you. His heart thumps painfully in his chest and he swallows harshly. He doesn't know how you do it - how you effortlessly change to match your surroundings.

One minute you're his office manager, polite and respectful and skilled. Already he sees the business taking shape, becoming more cohesive and smooth beneath your talented mind and heart. And your feisty insistence that he upgrade and finesse his marketing and finally finish putting together a website for Chen’s.

The next minute you're leaning over the edge of the booth, chest coming forward and revealing your neckline. The red is fitting on you. It brings out the natural flush in your cheeks and makes you look perpetually alive. He feels stagnant by comparison, a man of stone who remains unchanging while the world passes him by.

The tumble of hair across your shoulders and the delight in your eyes are so beautiful he wants to reach for you. To reach for more, be more than who he has been - afraid and alone. Bitterness lives in his heart, swatting away anyone who gets too close. But here you are, knocking once more on the door of his being.

He finds his voice, his hands thankfully moving on muscle memory as he drops in the next remix. 'It's good energy tonight,' he fumbles. 'I love this song.' You nod in agreement.

It’s easy, being with you. Together you talk about work and the music he plays and your group of friends. Chanyeol and Bijoux, who finally got together again after what seems like months of back and forth. Bets on how long Minseok will wait before he proposes to Bookworm, now that they’re an official item. Joking about Baekhyun and Hitch like always.

He shows off for you, just a little. Spins 'Scream' by Michael and Janet jackson with a bit more pizazz than usual. It strikes him as amusing how much he always hated being watched before this. Not that many people pay particular attention to him as a DJ, but he thinks he might like the way it feels to be watched by you.

He wants to watch you, too, for as long as you let him. He already can’t take his eyes off you. No matter how much that idea might terrify him. When he drops the next mix and the crowd cheers at ‘Tubthumping’ he gives you a rare broad smile and it's like being punched in the chest when you return it with an unexpectedly shy one of your own.

Jongdae almost invites you into the booth. He sees it as though it were one of the romantic comedies that are so popular right now. You would take your place in front of him. He'd get to rest his hand on top of yours, guiding your movements. Maybe as you got the hang of it he would slide them to hold your hips, keeping your back to his chest as his mouth finds your neck.

Liz invites you to dance and Jongdae wipes the probably awed look off his face with effort. He needs some cold water, immediately.

Friday September 19th

Jongdae is upset about something. It’s not so much that you now seem to be able to pick up his moods with ease, which is true, but the fact that he is nearly tearing his hair out. A piece of paper sits in front of him on the desk but it’s too far away for you to read.

By the time he groans for the fifth time you finally speak up. ‘Are you alright?’

His head jerks up and his eyes are tired when they meet yours. Not ‘it’s been a long week’ tired, but something sad in his expression that makes him look fragile and younger than his years.

For a moment he shakes his head. Then he picks up the paper and waves it in the air, opening and closing his mouth in rapid succession. The confusion on his normally self-assured face would be comical if it wasn’t such an obviously distressing situation. Finally he drops the paper and leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand along his jaw.

‘I just got word that they’re demolishing the apartment building I live in. I have to move by November 1st.’

Instantly you want to hug him or hold his hand. ‘Your grandfather’s apartment?’

Jongdae nods. ‘They’re tearing it down so they can put in some luxury condos. Yet another classic neighborhood about to be wiped out in the name of progress.’ He sighs, looking at the ceiling to compose himself. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so-’

‘No, it’s -’ you start, unsure of your destination. ‘It’s an important place. And it’s your home. Don’t apologize for being pissed off about it.’

He nods, taken aback. ‘Exactly. It’s where I grew up. I’ve also never had to look for an apartment or move, either. So this will be dreadful.’

You bite the inside of your cheek. The offer to help practically leaps from your mouth and you hold it close for a moment, making sure you don’t rush into something that’s out of your depth. But as always your logic overrules your fear.

‘I could help, if you like?’ He’s just your boss slash co-worker. It’s innocent. It’s harmless, right? ‘I’ve moved so often with school and everything. I know my way around the city.’

In the ensuing pause Jongdae’s solemnity returns, his mouth and the lines of his face don’t give away any emotion. But, as always, he holds you in place with his expression. And his eyes have that fire within that he seems to only show to you. ‘That would be wonderful, thank you.’

You nod, case closed. Turning back to your computer you lie to yourself further, pretending not to notice how his voice lowered. As though he knew you weren’t just offering for help with his living situation. But something more raw and painful that he isn’t prepared to hold on his own just yet.

For how picky you thought you were about apartments, Jongdae has you beat by a mile. Student housing accustomed you to wonky flooring and cramped kitchens and the charming yet ancient windows on many older Seattle homes. But his grandfather’s gorgeous pre-war unit had made Jongdae’s tastes quite particular.

On Tuesdays and on weekends you pulled up listings and showed Jongdae around the city by way of it’s apartments, condos, and houses. He enjoyed the nature surrounding Greenlake, the affordable houses north of UW in Ravenna, and the vibe of Ballard and Fremont. But he ruled anything north of 520 out quickly as ‘too far from the store.’ The luxury of walking to work on nicer days was something he wasn’t willing to part with.

The same unfortunately ruled out a townhouse in Alki that you had salivated over, a block from the beach. Pioneer Square had some great lofts that would have been perfect for a music-lover like Jongdae, but he vetoed those as well. Along with all the trendy industrial lofts near the stadiums, claiming he hated all the construction going on nearby.

It should have been frustrating, to spend endless hours watching him nix perfectly wonderful places. In Queen Anne he hated the hills. Westlake he disliked the mall. Madrona, Leschi, Montlake, Magnolia, and Lake Union all came close but still he shook his head and said ‘thanks, but no thanks’ to landlord after landlord.

It should have driven you mad, but all it did was make you like him more.

Falling in love with Jongdae isn’t what you had planned. But from the first night you saw him at the club some part of you knew it was inevitable, the way the rain in autumn starts off as a light drizzle and before you know it becomes a torrential downpour, blanketing the city and saturating every exposed corner.

He always brought you coffee and insisted on buying breakfast or lunch. He always picked you up, right on time. Held doors and made sure he didn’t walk too fast and did the thing where his arm hovered over your back when the two of you were in crowded spaces. Not touching, but close enough you could feel him protecting you. On anyone else you would have absolutely hated that, but of course from him, you craved it.

Day after day you listened to music in his car as the two of you drove around little neighborhoods hoping to find something, complaining about how tight and ridiculous the parking situation always is. Joking about your friends or the news or the latest books you’re reading. They hardly felt like dates. No, they felt like something even more insidious. Like being in a relationship with him. Easy and warm and friendly and the kind of thing you could get used to.

But eventually it had to end, before it seemed like either of you were ready.

On a surprisingly warm Tuesday in October the two of you walk into a place that no one could object to. The building is in south Capitol Hill, close to Cal Anderson and only a fifteen or twenty minute walk from the mall. It’s designed in the classic Victorian style of the neighborhood, but was completed just three years ago. Small pane windows and a fireplace with a carved mantle and dark spires on the roof, all with brand new insulation and appliances.

Sunlight floods the corner unit on the top floor and you gasped as soon as the door opened. Jongdae stands beside you as the landlord goes over the details of the square footage and the building amenities, but neither of you are listening anymore.

‘What do you think?’ he asks softly. The five-story building sits on a slight hill and overlooks the rest of downtown, with a partial water view around the tall downtown skyscrapers.

‘I think it’s as close to perfect as you’re going to get.’

He moves closer and rests his palms on the window sill, looking around for a moment before turning his head to watch you. ‘Good.’

After a long pause Jongdae pushes off the windows and politely interrupts the landlord, who is currently opening every single cabinet in the kitchen and giving a detailed run down of his wife’s favorite tupperware, asking about the deposit. The way he phrased it along with the attentive way he waited for your approval makes you wonder if he wasn’t just picking this apartment for himself.

Imagining yourself there scares you. If he was seeking your opinion… surely he would be hoping you’d come over? Neither of you have spoken a word about the bizarre yet undeniable attraction you have, but that hardly forms the basis of a relationship. A boyfriend who wanted to be sure you liked his new place would be one thing, but your friend and co-worker who has never admitted to even liking you is quite another.

You lean against the edge of the window and run a finger along the ledge. A small part of you whispers that you’re supposed to be doing something else, eventually. You won’t work at Chen’s forever, but it wasn’t meant to be this hard to leave. It’s just a stop on the way to your final destination. So why do you want to get off the train altogether and make a home here?

Would it be so terrible, to be with him? It’s been a fantasy for so long that imagining real life with him makes you suck in a breath as though you’ve been punched in the gut. It could be a fresh start for you both. The end of one adventure and the beginning of a new one. You remind yourself that being in love doesn’t mean you can’t travel or change the world. Being with Jongdae would hopefully only encourage your dreams, not stifle them.

As they discuss deposit and applications and timelines for moving into the apartment you wander into the other rooms.

The bathroom has a large tub and dual sinks. You can only imagine what your expression must be like right now, given your swirling emotions, and avoid the mirror altogether. The second bedroom is more like a cozy office, narrow enough for a desk and a couch and perhaps some bookshelves. In the bedroom you hesitate at the doorway, reaching up to play with the pendant of your necklace.

Windows run along both sides, meeting in a corner. You think of plants lining the wide ledges and going to sleep with the setting westward sun and how short of a walk it would be to get breakfast from your favorite bagel shop that’s just a block away. It’s close to the mall and the club. It’s truly perfect.

As you watch cars pass and people walk by down below you space out, the image blurring and becoming Jongdae on a bed in this room, leaning back against the pillows with a book in his lap. Smiling at you and pulling you close since he knows you refuse to get up earlier than you have to on your days off.

Inexplicably you want to cry and you huff out a laugh, squeezing your eyes tightly only to find that they’re damp. It’s not anger that the vision inspires in you or even sadness. It’s frustration and amusement that war inside you as you think about how you fell in love with him without your consent. Rational thinking should have stopped this long ago, but all you can think as you stand there is how nice it is to be with him. And how you wouldn’t mind being with him for a long while.

The only thing that helps ease the tension in your chest is how he looks at you on the drive back to your place. You fill the time with discussions of moving trucks and hiring a company to help with the heavy lifting, but you’re both clearly distracted by other thoughts. He pulls his car up to your apartment and you try to avoid looking at him as you say goodbye, but he briefly rests his hand on your knee to get your attention.

Your hand stops in its motion to grab your bag and ends up nearly on top of his, but you make no movement to break the contact. ‘Thank you,’ he says softly. ‘I mean it.’ Jongdae turns his hand and holds yours, giving it a quick squeeze and looking like he never wants to let go.

October 12th, 1997

You’re eating cheesy bread at Barada with Hitch, but today she’s different - evasive and nervous in a strange way. 'So I - uhh. I have news,' she finally says. She sips her drink and looks at the table rather than at you. 'I don't know if I should tell you though.'

Pausing in your chewing you raise a brow. 'You can tell me anything, you know that.'

She awkwardly runs a hand along her neck. 'No I know. I just -' she huffs out a breath and blows her hair off her forehead..

'You and Baekhyun finally had sex and you're pregnant?' You smirk at her as she chokes on her soda. 'Come on, just spit it out.'

She waves and hand and very quickly says - 'There's a project manager position open in the gaming division. Some new big thing and they're looking for an upstart to head up operations.'

You frown and tear off another slide of bread, not understanding her odd behavior at all. 'Okay… and you're thinking what, thinking of applying?'

'No, you dork. I'm thinking you should apply.' She tilts her head like she assumed your reaction would be more immediate. 'You wanted me to keep an eye out for you, right? I didn't want to say anything since - '

'Since?' you ask, both afraid of what she'll say and dying to know. Terrified it will have to do with Jongdae and the swirling mess of feelings you have for him.

It’s her turn to be wry. 'Since you and Jongdae have been attached at the hip.'

'Really?' You stall, taking an enormous bite.

Hitch tosses a balled-up napkin at you. 'Yes. When I met you in college I thought 'there goes the most intense person I've ever met.’ And then I met Jongdae after he opened Chen’s and he gave you a run for your money.' She dusts off her hands. 'You both could be making millions someday. Taking over countries or saving the world or something. We all know it. I don't know, I didn’t want to mention this because together you guys seem happier. Softer? Something like that..'

'And you think me getting a job there would ruin that?' Her words mirror your fears exactly and your stomach drops.

'It's taken me years to get Jongdae to even look at me after I told him where I worked. He hates Microsoft. With good reason, from what you've implied. I'm sure you could make it work, but trust me when I say if you get swept up into that upper management spiral, we probably won't see you again.'

'I won't completely abandon you guys just because I get a new job.' But doubt whispers in your mind. The long hours and the endless meetings and the extra work to always be the best, to always be ahead. 'Okay fine, I see your point. I still have to try, right? I should at least apply.'

She rests her hand over yours where you have your napkin in a death grip on the table. 'You don't have to do anything, babe. We'll always be here for you even if you become a tech mogul overnight. But will it make you happy? Whatever comes next... do it for yourself, okay? Not just cause you think you should.'

You smile and hold her hand for a moment, wrinkling your nose. 'Thank you, Hitch. I needed that. What about you? You said you were going to apply for that transfer to the NYC office, are you still considering it?'

She blows out a deep breath and pulls her hand back, dropping her forehead to it for a moment. 'God, I don't know. My whole life is here. And I'd have to leave the theater.' She rests her chin on her palm and looks up at you with a dramatic frown. 'My friends are all here. My family. I love where I'm at, but I know that something eventually has to change.'

'Baekhyun?' You grin at her, wondering if the move might finally force them to admit their feelings.

Hitch straightens and looks across the food court to the movie theater. 'Yeah, something like that.' She gives you a dramatic waggle of her brow. 'Jongdae?'

You groan and fold your arms, sinking lower into your seat. Even your roommates ask about him now. Everyone can surely see how you light up around him. The way you gravitate towards the DJ booth on club nights like a moth to a flame. The way you draw him into conversations and brag about him. It should be forbidden territory, as untouchable and unreadable as he is. Not to mention he's your boss.

But worst of all he still hasn't said anything about it, nothing more than the occasional flirtatious comment or lingering look. Even after all your time together and the way he looked at you in the new apartment. For all you know he sees you as a very stubborn employee who happens to force your way into things.

You cover your face with your hands and sigh. 'Something like that.'

Hitchcock stands and takes your shared tray of dishes to the bus station with a throaty laugh. 'That's what I thought.'

November 1st, 1997

Jongdae is frantically packing up more of his bookshelf when the doorbell rings. He smiles on instinct. It's not something he can help anymore, not when he knows it's you on the other side. Right at nine in the morning, just when you promised the movers would be here. With a last look around his living room at the organized chaos he wipes his hands on his sweatpants and stands.

It surprised him how quickly you agreed to help with - well, everything, really.

When he told you about his move he didn’t expect anything would come of it. It's his problem, not yours. He didn't imagine for a moment you'd give the announcement more attention than a sympathetic word or two. But you stepped to his side. Put up with his grouchy persistence in believing that there's no place in the world, let alone in Seattle, that would be as amazing as this apartment. As it always seems with you, he found himself proven wrong.

You didn't let him wallow and guided him with your decisiveness through the checklist of everything he'd need to do. A few months ago he would have waved you off. Decided you were being bossy or nosy and turned down the help with a cold shoulder. 

But now he wants you around for everything and the thought makes him pause with his hand on the doorknob.

He made sure you like his new apartment too because - when he isn't expecting it he imagines you there. Not just as his co-worker or employee or even as his friend. As someone more permanent. Lasting. It's not that he needs you to run his life for him, he's perfectly capable of doing things on his own. It's just that he loves how you barge your way into his world and refuse to let him be alone.

Jongdae doesn't know how yet, but he wants to show you how he feels in return. It's like trying to run with a blindfold on, but he desperately hopes that he can figure out how to care about you in the way you deserve. Bringing you coffee and asking about your day and giving you all the freedom you want at work are a start, but they barely scratch the surface of how much he feels for you.

He's got one idea. A big one. An insane one, that you'll probably call him nuts for suggesting. If he ever gets up the nerve someday.

The buzzer sounds again and he shakes himself out of it. Finally he pulls it open and is greeted by your smiling face in the morning gray light. Hair pulled back in a ponytail and dressed in a long black shirt and faded overalls. He leans against the doorframe, wondering if he's ever seen anything more beautiful than you on his doorstep.

'So, I have a surprise,' you start. With a free hand you nervously brush your hair behind your ear. It's so unlike you that he immediately wonders if something is wrong.

'What is it?'

Before you can answer, noise in the parking lot draws his focus. His front door faces the open-air walkway that leads to the stairs down to the parking lot. He expected a moving truck and several buff men in logoed shirts. Instead it's a scrappy group of your friends - his friends now, he supposes - looking tired but ready to help.

Junmyeon and Jane drink coffee and pull furniture dollys and heavy blankets out of a Uhaul truck. Liz and Jongin are leaning against the cab of Sehun's car and laugh at him as he and Yixing sleep peacefully in the backseat. Chanyeol and his girlfriend are paused on the landing below making out, a tape gun in each of their hands. Another car catches a break in the flow of traffic and pulls into one of the guest spaces. Minseok and Bookworm step out and yawn, tying sweatshirts around their waists.

Jongdae repeats his question. Or at least he tries to, but emotion catches his throat and all he can do is stare at you with a mix of surprise and what he's sure is a very naked expression of affection.

'How did you do this?' he asks when he can finally breathe again.

You tilt your head and grin at him, pride making you radiant even in the dull mist of the morning. 'Is this okay?' For a moment you look worried, tucking your hands in the pockets of your overalls and taking a step back.

'I know I said I'd hire the movers, but I thought this might be better? I didn't think everyone would be here, especially after the Halloween party last night. Soo and Sunshine are working, but I think - wait,' you turn and yell down to the group in the lot. 'Has anyone heard from Baek and Hitch?'

Chanyeol reluctantly pulls away from his girlfriend and replies. 'Yeah, he messaged me at the ass-crack of dawn. He said he and Hitch are fine, but they won't be able to make it until later.'

With a curious look you thank Chanyeol and turn back to Jongdae. 'Okay, so almost everyone came.'

'It's because you're incredible,' he agrees, heart warm and in awe of you. Stepping back, he shoves the door stop in with his foot to prop it open and gestures for you to come in.

He doesn't get two steps before your hand finds his bicep, stopping him. 'No, I'm just absolutely amazing at organizing things,' you laugh. ‘But they didn't just come for me Jongdae, they came because they're your friends. They wanted to help.'

The intensity in your voice makes him pause. Like you're trying to say far more than your words. He gets lost for a moment in your beautiful eyes and swallows harshly. His past, the negative parts, haven't come up much - his failed first business, the trail of broken friendships he's left behind him, the ensuing guard he's had up since - but you've paid far more attention than he realized.

He doesn't miss the meaning behind your words, or the look in your eyes; what you're asking of him. To trust you, to trust them. To release his death grip on the walls he keeps up to protect himself. But no matter how determined you are he knows he has to be the one to dismantle them. His heart is nervous and he instead focuses on your hand on his arm.

For a beat he wants to kiss you, then and there with almost all of his and your friends just outside. Instead he lets his actions speak when his mouth isn't able to and pulls you into a hug. You freeze for a moment, stiff with surprise. But after a moment it melts away and you hold him back, wrapping your arms around his waist. His head spins when you rest your forehead against his shoulder, unable to process the fact that you’re in his arms in reality, not just his dreams.

'You're the most amazing person,' he murmurs against your hair.

The sound of loud voices and thumping of boots on stairs make him pull back. You give him another smile, warmer and softer this time. Something that's private for him only. 'I know.'

He barks out a laugh as Sehun and Jongin come in through the doorway. 'Let's do this!' Sehun calls, clapping his hands together.

'We promise we won't steal anything,' Jongin jokes, looking around Jongdae's place with obvious fascination.

Bijoux organizes the packing party while Chanyeol grabs Jongdae's keys so he and Sehun can take the first load of boxes over to the new place while Junmyeon, Jongin, and Jongdae load up the bigger furniture pieces into the Uhaul. Jongdae lets out a rusty laugh as Junmyeon dubs them ‘the J squad.’ You work around them, collecting all the random trinkets and knicknacks that have escaped other boxes.

He closed Chen’s today to hopefully knock this entire project out in one swoop. Ripping it off like a Bandaid. After the first big load everyone splits up into teams. Sehun and Yixing pack and load the rest of the boxes and smaller items into the cars. Jongin, who is absolutely not trusted around breakable items, goes with Junmyeon to return the Uhaul to the rental shop and pick up lunch and drinks for everyone with the cash Jongdae insisted they take. 

And Minseok leads everyone else on a cleaning checklist he’s created with military precision. It's been so long Jongdae doesn't even know if he has a damage deposit. His grandfather took excellent care of the place and he kept it up in his absence, so he hopes it's not too much work to tidy.

Yixing’s boombox keeps up a steady flow of music throughout the morning and lunch time. With everyone’s help, and of course with the added fuel from the pizza and beverages, things are just wrapping up at the old place. You stay behind with Jongdae to take a last look around and turn in the keys, forcing him to take a few photos in the space to remember it.

‘This is it, I guess,’ he says, holding out the key and laying it on the kitchen counter with a small metallic sound.

‘How do you feel?’ You lean your hip against the fridge and drink from a water bottle.

Sunset over Lake Union is his favorite time of day and it’s hard to stand the thought of missing out on a last one. It’s barely two in the afternoon and it’s hours until golden hour. Rather than lie he simply says the truth. ‘I wish I could see the sun go down one last time.’

You come and stand next to him, close enough he can smell the light scent of your perfume and see the flush of your chest from the day’s exertion. ‘We can wait.’

He thinks of everyone at his new place, unloading boxes. ‘But everyone-’

‘Jongdae,’ you start. ‘They’ll be fine. You know Sehun has probably fallen asleep on your couch already. Baek and Hitch and the openers from Barada will be heading over soon. Some people have to head out for closing shifts but it’s already been decided that we’re doing movie night and Chinese take out tonight at your new place.’

‘Oh really?’ He presses his lips together to try not to laugh.

‘I don’t think you have much of a choice,’ you tease. ‘Trust me, they’ll be fine for another few hours.’

‘Alright then,’ he says after a pause.

The two of you sit on the bare hardwood floors and talk until the sun finally sets, just before five pm. He doesn’t yell his feelings for you at full volume like he wishes he could. He doesn’t dance with you or kiss you slowly in the empty apartment, there’s far too many emotions in his heart today to try and cope with more. But after he locks up and leaves the keys behind he does take your hand to help you into the car. And he does hold it for far longer than necessary before pulling back to shut the door. 

It’s not much, but like his new apartment it’s the start of something.

November 3rd, 1997

You’ve got to tell Jongdae now, but nerves eat away at you and your resolve lessens minute by minute. Since the move he’s been warmer, more open, and you don’t want to ruin that. But you can’t keep this from him any longer.

Applying at Microsoft was supposed to be a long shot, a shot in the dark, or some other kind of shot that never meant to lead anywhere. But still it’s one you took and one that ended up paying off way faster and more successfully than you’d planned. After two interviews last week you sit with a job offer on your answering machine back home and a choice to make.

They need your decision by tomorrow and as Monday winds into early afternoon your deadline approaches. You bite your lip and vacillate wildly between thoughts. On the one hand this could be a good thing - if you’re no longer working at the same place, there’s nothing stopping the two of you from being together, right?

But what if Jongdae can’t see past his hurt and freaks out, assuming you’re leaving him like everyone else has? Or worse, what if he never cared about you that way at all?

Your stomach drops at the thought of walking out of here into your dream job, but feeling empty, leaving behind someone who has come to mean so much to you.

Your roommates Liz and Jane, Hitch, hell even Baekhyun weaseled the truth out of you at Shari’s on Saturday. Stone cold sober and still you let out everything to him sitting in your group’s favorite booth. About how you might in fact love Jongdae and how badly you want this opportunity, how utterly terrifying and exhilarating change can be simultaneously.

None of them told you to choose one way or the other. They didn’t say ‘take the job’ or ‘turn down the job,’ they all said that the decision is one only you can make and that they’d support you no matter what you picked. And maybe each time you cried a little and all of them were good enough friends to just hug you and not mention it.

But all of them told you one thing that now sits lodged in your throat. Whatever else happens, you both deserve to know. Jongdae deserves the truth about what you’re considering, and you deserve to finally know once and for all how he feels about you and what he wants.

After he locks the doors and starts cleaning up, you rise, holding your hands behind your back so tightly your knuckles are most assuredly white. ‘Hey, can we talk for a minute?’

Jongdae nods. ‘Of course. I’ve got something I wanted to discuss with you as well, actually. But you go first.’ He folds his arms and leans against his desk, giving you that affectionate close-lipped smile of his. You desperately hope what you’re about to say doesn’t wipe it off his face.

Not one to beat around the bush you dive in. ‘I applied for another job.’ The words sound blunt and harsh. You swallow and try again, hating how his brow furrows in confusion. ‘Not because I don’t like it here. But Hitch told me about an opening and it sounded - sounds perfect for what I want to do in the long run. It’s on the new gaming system division… at Microsoft.’

He doesn’t say anything for a long pause. Instead of meeting your eyes his have dropped to the ground and you wish you could reach out and touch him. Anything to make sure he hears you, understands you. But a whisper of fear makes you keep quiet, worrying the connection you had wasn’t meant to last, if something so trivial could break it.

‘I thought you were happy here,’ he says finally.

You hold your hands out in front of you, palms up in a gesture of entreaty. ‘I do, Jongdae. It’s not that at all. I thought this might - be good for us. If we’re not working together, then -’

When he finally looks up his gaze is distant, his mouth a thin line. The shutters have fallen over his face. ‘By going to work at the one place I despise?’

Anger makes your skin hot and you fold your arms as well, in defiance. ‘But you talk to Hitch and Baekhyun? They haven’t turned into the devil incarnate yet.’

He gives a quick, harsh shrug. ‘I like them both, sure. But being friends is one thing. This is quite another.’

It’s almost a declaration, yet so far from how you dreamed this moment might go. ‘What are you saying, Jongdae?’ You need to hear it. After so many weeks of trying you need him to at least do you the courtesy of speaking it out loud.

‘You know how I feel about you.’ There’s hope in his eyes. But it’s so buried amongst hurt and suspicion it’s not even close to reassuring. ‘I want you to stay. Here.’ With me, he doesn’t say, but you feel it.

Nothing drives you more up the wall than being told what to do. His words fall against your own shield and the plea within goes unnoticed. ‘Would you really shut me off if I took this job? Does hating them mean more than wanting what’s best for me?’ You finally step forward, reaching a hand for his arm.

‘I’ve supported you in everything,’ you start, unable to stop now that you’ve started. ‘In finding community here. In your move. Even in the business, who was the one who pushed you to keep growing? I don’t intend to stop being there for you, but I need you to support me in this. Please.’

He just watches you, not saying a word. The clock on the wall ticks loudly in the silence. People outside the glass doors go about their day, shopping or getting an early dinner, unaware of the standoff taking place merely feet from them. You wonder what it would take to make his guard truly ever come down.

With how quickly it snapped back into place you feel tired all the way down to your bones. Maybe it will never be enough, even if you did stay here forever.

‘I’ll pay out your PTO in these next two weeks,’ he says softly. ‘No need to come back into the office. If that works for you?’ His last statement is thrown on as a hasty addendum. Like he’d realized how harsh it sounded and he wanted to dull the sting. It’s a sliver of kindness, a glimpse at the man he almost allowed himself to be. But it’s not enough.

‘Fine with me.’ You move past him, into the supply room to grab your purse and jacket, proud of the way your voice doesn’t waver. Pausing in the hallway you turn to look back at him, still frozen against his desk. ‘I’m leaving this job, I’m not leaving you.’

He turns to look at you, running a hand through his hair and messing up the ends. ‘It will go the same way, I know it. In the end you’ll disappear too.’

‘Jongdae, I’m trying. I need you to at least meet me halfway.’

You don’t wait for his reply, if one was ever even going to come. Instead you continue down the small hallway and push out the back door into the mall. It’s only once you’re in your car that you remember he mentioned something he wanted to discuss. You wonder what it was, and if you’ll ever find out.

Jongdae stares after you for long seconds after you’re gone. He doesn’t hold out hope that you’ll come back, not after the way he treated you. Instead he feels stuck in place, like if he holds his breath and doesn’t exhale then the last five minutes didn’t happen.

But his lungs burn and his chest aches, and when he finally sighs it comes out ragged. He fumbles for the switch and the store descends into darkness. Shafts of light still come through, angled in from the glass ceiling of the mall’s concourse. Jongdae stands just outside of it, protected. With no one to see he sinks into his desk chair and drops his head into his hands.

The tears that clog his throat are at first unexpected, but as the minutes drag on he finally gives into them. He should have known they were coming all along. Not just from the moment you walked into his life, but from the day his grandfather died. From the day his father passed and his mother became a ghost rather than a permanent, tangible figure. 

From the day Julian took Jongdae’s designs and credited them as his own to the investors, cutting Jongdae out of not only the business they were building, but out of their group of friends as well.

Misery and hopelessness whisper against his skin and for long minutes he lets himself wallow. He knows it’s no one’s fault but his own that he ruined things with you. His grandfather taught him long ago that other’s actions are theirs, and that it’s what Jongdae does in response that is his responsibility. But he can’t deny that he indulges in thoughts of blaming the cruelty of life for making him so goddamn stubborn.

He swallows and leans back in his chair, feeling as though his body is made of hard, unyielding stone. Maybe it's better this way, he wonders, drumming his fingers on the wood desk before him. Perhaps he should let his worst fears dominate his life, believing that the risk is far greater than any potential reward that love or friendship could offer him.

Is it better to be alone, knowing that he’ll always be safe, free of anyone who might hurt him?

Jongdae groans. The voice inside him that whispers No sounds first like his grandfather, both encouraging and feisty at the thought of Jongdae giving up. Next it sounds like you. He knows you’d roll your eyes and call him grouchy, always thinking better of him than he does of himself. You’d tell him his bark is far worse than his bite and to get over himself already. At this thought, at any thought of you, really, he smiles.

Familiar voices make him look out into the mall. Sehun and Jongin walk by carrying sodas, rubbing their stomachs. He can imagine how they’re complaining about eating too much Barada pizza, as always. 

They pass by quickly but the image stays with him, of their friendship. Jongdae thinks of Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s, how opposite and yet how similar they are. Baekhyun and Hitch, who are always teasing each other but who he knows would do anything at the drop of a hat.

He’s held himself back the past few months. First a reluctant observer. Then a tentative participant. The endless exhaustion of being careful, keeping his distance, catches up to Jongdae as he sits in that chair. If it weren’t for you maybe he’d never be brave enough to try again after how hard it was growing up. But if he is to be the kind of person, the kind of partner you deserve, now is the time to make the attempt.

It’s up to Jongdae to be the one to try, to reach out. He can’t let others find him anymore. For the first time in a long time Jongdae stands up and goes looking for a friend.

Junmyeon still has an hour before his store closes and he looks up at Jongdae as he walks in through the door of Guardians. ‘Hey, JD! How’s it going?’ If he notices that Jongdae’s been crying, he’s kind enough to not mention it.

‘Are you busy?’ Jongdae’s throat is raw but Jun has a young son, surely tears won’t bother him.

‘Not really, I’m just organizing some shipments going out tomorrow,’ Junmyeon answers. He sets down his pencil and rests his hands on the counter. A crease forms between his brows the longer he watches Jongdae. ‘Is everything alright?’

He wants to do this right, but all he can find are inelegant words. Junmyeon is as close as he has to a best friend at the moment, and he hopes he doesn’t inconvenience him. ‘Not really.’

Jun tilts his head and gestures to the door, picking up Jongdae’s unspoken request and running with it, just like he’d hoped he would. ‘I can close up shop a bit early. Want to talk in my office?’

Jongdae runs a hand over his face and nods. Grateful and relieved he manages a small laugh. ‘That would be great, thanks.’

After Jun locks the doors and flips the sign to closed he motions for Jongdae to follow him. The back room of Guardians is much warmer that at Chen’s Electronics, in style rather than temperature. Jongdae sits on a beige sofa that’s even more comfortable than it looks. The walls are filled with framed photos and art prints and various other pieces that give the space an art gallery vibe.

With a sigh Junmyeon tidies up the mess of papers and crayons and various cups with kid lids. ‘Sorry, Sungmin loves to draw but we haven’t quite nailed the clean up yet.’

‘Don’t worry about it on my behalf,’ Jongdae says sincerely. ‘I’m just grateful you’re willing to listen.’

The space has a narrow hallway leading to a back door and a closet that’s probably full of supplies, much like Jongdae’s store. Jun takes the cups to a small sink in the mini-kitchen in the corner. His brow lifts in confusion. ‘Why wouldn’t I? We’re friends, right?’

Could it be that simple? No need to prove himself or do everything possible to impress Junmyeon, like he did with Julian. ‘Yeah, we are I suppose.’ He laughs and shakes his head. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to imply I don’t consider us friends, I just - well, have a few trust issues when it comes to that sort of thing.’

Junmyeon dries his hands on a dishtowel and blows his hair off his forehead with a huffed laugh. ‘We’ve all got a few issues, don’t we?’ He moves to the table and takes a seat, sliding a glass of water towards Jongdae and sipping from one of his own. ‘I’ve got the time. So quit stalling and tell me about yours.’

He sags into the couch and drinks from the glass. ‘Alright then.’

For once he doesn’t second guess himself or try to read the minutiae of Jun’s expressions to see if he’s annoying him or being too boring. Jongdae simply tells him the truth, trusting his friend to listen. 

He mentions his family and how hard it hit him when his grandfather passed. How strange and yet unbothered he is by the lack of relationship with his mother. The way he was teased growing up and how he was probably the only person in his Master’s program going through puberty. The fact that the mall is the first place he’s ever had friends his own age since childhood.

It’s satisfying to see how pissed off Jun gets when he tells him about Julian and all the bullshit he put Jongdae through. For a while there Jongdae had convinced himself that he was the one in the wrong, that there’d been something he’d done to earn his exile. That it was a deserved punishment. But his friend’s muttered curses remind him that true friends don’t normally backstab each other for money and notoriety.

And finally, he talks of you.

How much he values you at work and how sassy and insistent you were about bringing him into ‘the fold’ of their friend group. The ways in which he wants to be with you and care for you and all his worries of whether or not he’ll be any good at it, given his lack of experience. Junmyeon is neither surprised by his feelings for you nor willing to let him wallow.

‘I even brought prom tickets,’ Jongdae finishes with a groan. He pulls them from the pocket of his jeans and lets his arm fall to the couch cushion. ‘Me. At a prom.’ He almost snorts.

But Junmyeon just purses his lips. ‘Is that really such a stretch?’

Jongdae hums a noise of contemplation. ‘No. I guess not. All our friends are doing it.’ But before Jun can continue he shakes his head. ‘But I’ve messed this all up, so it doesn’t matter either way.’

Loneliness aches in his bones, his hands tired of not holding yours. Wishing he was enough, somehow, to keep you here and keep you warm; enough to make you stay, to make you happy.

Junmyeon raises a brow. ‘I think you’re missing the point entirely my friend. She told you what she needs. All you have to do is listen. She’s asking you to trust her. This job is something she’s worked for and she’s not leaving you for it. She’s just leaving the job. If you want to know you have to ask.’

He sighs deeply. ‘You’re right. But what if it all goes wrong? What if I try and it’s all for nothing in the end?’

Jun dips his chin to his chest, looking at the ground lost in thought. ‘That’s fair. I know a little of that myself, Jongdae. But all you can do is try. There’s sadly no guarantees here. I think you want to make it work and from what I know of her, she wants you as well. It’s time to make the big gesture. Or any kind of gesture, really.’

He groans and smiles, knowing his friend’s fondness for ‘I think you’re right.’ He even has an idea, two in fact. One that’s lived in the back of his mind for weeks and one that’s brewing right now. ‘Will you help me?’

‘Absolutely my friend.’ Jun claps him on the shoulder, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

November 19th, 1997

It should have been wonderful news to you that it was a clean break at least. No mess, just walking out the door and leaving behind the man and the job in one fell swoop. But of course, it wasn’t.

Microsoft was delighted when you told them you could start ASAP, but honestly you did it to jump into work rather than spend your time missing Jongdae. Filling your schedule proves to be the easiest way to avoid thinking about what hurts. You still had your roommates and Hitch and everyone else to hang out with, even if you weren’t ready for any Saturday pizza lunches or Shari’s nights quite yet. Both brought you far too close to him to bear right now.

Liz and Jane and Hitch are wonderful and you’ve had not one but two sleepovers since ‘the Jongdae incident.’ If not for their friendship and constant presence you’re sure you would have walled up the hurt and hid it away, not one to normally speak about your pain openly. Not while it’s so fresh. 

Distantly you hope that Jongdae is okay and that he has someone to talk to. If he’s even hurting. 

For all you know he’s completely fine and unaffected by the entire thing. Maybe he’s already found a new office manager and has forgotten about you. But those are the kind of rude and painful thoughts that only come to you at three in the morning when you can’t sleep, when dreams of his hands and his voice and his smile keep you up.

Jongdae calls one Tuesday to ask you to swing by Chen’s to pick something up the next day and you’re suspicious. He wouldn’t say any more, just ‘please come by at six. I have something to give you and I’d like it to be in person.’

You put on your favorite black dress and blazer that make you feel both sexy and confident and head to the mall. If he’s just calling you to twist the knife in deeper, you’ve already decided to leave and not bother letting him hurt you more. But if he’s calling to reconcile… you shake your head, not willing to get your hopes up. Instead you park in your old space and fix your make up in the rearview mirror.

It delights you to see that your old desk is returned to its former state. Just the computer, keyboard, and mouse remain. No one’s personal possessions have taken over the space like yours used to. It shouldn’t make you so happy to see he hasn’t replaced you, but it does.

Jongdae sits at his desk. His hair is in its usual perfect wave but his white button down and slacks have been swapped today for a dark green sweater and tan chinos. He looks ridiculously handsome and you grit your teeth, wishing you could turn off your attraction to him with a switch inside your brain.

He looks up at your knock on the glass door. For a moment he simply stands, drinking you in. Then he moves, walking closer to unlock the door and let you in. 

‘Hi. How are you?’

You blink and try not to laugh. ‘How am I? Jongdae, how do you think I am?’

‘Right, sorry.’ He shakes his head. Carefully he looks you up and down, not bothering to hide his own attraction to you in his hungry gaze. With a swallow he remembers himself and grabs a cardboard banker’s box from in front of his desk. ‘Here. I didn’t want to come by and drop it off. It felt wrong.’

The box holds all the random photos and personal belongings you’d left in your desk, in your haste to leave. Postcards from Amsterdam and family photos and lotions and your favorite scarf you’d been missing. He steps back, resting against the corner of his desk and folding his arms. When you take it he doesn’t say anything, which is not what you’d hoped by any means, but silence is definitely less painful than you’d feared.

‘Well, it’s been an adventure,’ you manage. You lean against your desk and move the box under one arm, holding out a hand to him to shake. Ready to be done with this officially.

He doesn’t move. You can feel words held on the tip of his tongue. Months and months later you know how to read his tells. The tightness in his jaw and the widening of his eyes and how his hand grips the fabric of his sweater. But seconds tick on and still he says nothing. 

He should speak or you should leave. One of you should do something. Instead you’re frozen in time. Eventually your arm aches and you set the box down beside you. You could go first, but pride demands he be the one to confess, if there’s going to be any confessions tonight.

Neither of you caves; twin pillars of resolution, stubbornness, and desire. It’s a game the two of you could play for hours. The tension in the air pulls tighter than a violin. His gaze drops from your eyes to your lips, unabashedly. His lids grow heavy as he breathes deeply, close enough to smell your gardenia perfume, but just out of reach of being able to touch you.

So this is what it feels like to meet my match, you think, finally acknowledging just how deeply you want him. Enough nights had been spent imagining kissing him, being with him in far more intimate ways than just a holding of hands or a hug. You want more, but only if he wants you, too.

You'd always been told that you were too driven, too smart, too self-sufficient to attract a man. Even in your MBA program where ambition and intelligence were supposedly rewarded, it apparently made you too something to find a good man to date.

But now there’s one right in front of you, looking at you as if you’re the answer to Fermat’s Enigma; a rare and priceless gem he’d been hunting for all his life. But he doesn’t look at you as if you’re art to be admired, a prize to be won. The guard lifts steadily and when he looks at you now it’s as if you’re the kind of miracle he wants to sink his teeth, his tongue, and his fingers into.

Your cheeks grow warm and you’re sure you look just as amazed and turned on as he does. If you had to guess, you’d bet that the number of people who challenge him these days are few, and the number of people who attempt to see the man behind the curtain even fewer.

While everyone else in the world might just see a monolith of a man, a genius, a hardworking and brilliant anomaly, you see the passionate, warm heart that beats in his chest. You know that the tin man really does have feelings and needs, and your heart almost breaks when you realize he’s been searching for you just as fervently as you’ve been searching for someone like him.

The silence in the room is almost too fragile a thing to break. On one side of the moment is a spark of something, a chance to see if this connection is real and deep, or if this is just chemistry and biology combining into lust. If your mind has taken the small gestures of passion and kindness and friendship from him and built it up to be something more than the sum of its parts.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he breathes, voice catching in his throat. Releasing his folded arms he rests his palms on the edges of the desk.

‘I’ve missed you, too,’ you admit. Your hands curl in on themselves, trying to fight the way emotion and physical longing make it difficult to be in such a close proximity to him.

‘Okay, then.’ He breaks first, moving with purpose and striding to you in two steps, sliding his hands along your jaw with such softness that you gasp. 

And then, finally, you feel his lips on yours. You grasp his hips, hands freed and aching to touch him, to feel his hard body press against yours with surprising heat.

You meet him with equal passion, working your lips against his steady assault on your composure. For a solid minute you’re in awe that you could feel this much, that his lips and his hands could undo you so rapidly. That they could rebuild you into someone who belongs to him in such a short space of time, after weeks of endless doubt.

He groans against your lips in what feels like similar shock and surrender. Who would have thought that he would cave to your touch just as you did to his? How could someone so grumpy and strong-willed also be so open and vulnerable to this tentative thing between you.

But as he drops a hand and brings it to rest securely on the small of your back you realize there’s a name for this feeling.

You could call it fate. You could call it destiny. You could call it that damned four-letter word or you could call it Darwinism for all you care as his teeth bite gently into your lower lip.

You just know that nothing has ever felt as good and right as his hands claiming you for his own and the smell and heat of him wrapping themselves around you and burrowing their way into your heart.

A whine works its way from your throat as he licks along the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. When you open your mouth to him, his tongue slides along your own and you almost lose your balance. With a giggle you could swear you’ve never made before in your life you let him guide you up onto the desk.

He steps between your legs instantly, gripping your hips and continuing his tasting of you. Heat and electricity race down your spine as you fist your hands in his hair, pulling him closer to you until there’s no separation.

Banging on the glass doors and whistles come from out in the mall and you freeze. Instead of jerking back in shock and alarm like you’d expect him to, Jongdae confounds you once again. He pulls back slowly, opening his eyes and lifting his hands to gently cup your face. It can’t have been more than fifteen minutes but in less than the time it takes to watch one episode of Friends he’s turned your world on its axis.

You and Jongdae smile at each other and both turn to wave at your group of friends, who are celebrating and clapping. Baekhyun eats from an enormous bag of popcorn, wearing his theater uniform. Jongin and Sehun take large handfuls and Hitch whoops with joy. Liz and Jane and Junmyeon are all smiling, and attempt to force some of the group away to give you privacy.

Jongdae’s hands flex on your waist. ‘I want to try. You’re everything I want, will you please give me the chance to be what you need?’ His voice is raspy and his lips are red and you can’t help but grin.

‘I just want you, okay?’ You fix his messed up hair with both hands and sigh with relief. ‘And for you to admit you like me.’

‘I far more than like you.’ Jongdae rolls his eyes and kisses you once more. ‘You just want me to say you’re right.’

With a laugh you ease yourself off your desk, standing close within his arms and bending to whisper in his ear. ‘I’m always right. I just love when you admit it.’

‘So,’ he starts with an amused quirk of an eyebrow. ‘Will you let me take you to dinner? Us, officially, on a date.’

Your chest feels as if it’s a balloon, expanding so rapidly it might burst. He looks so young and boyish and hopeful your heart feels like it turns to liquid gold. With a delighted grin you lean forward and press your lips to his again, unable to resist.

Joy swims in his irises as he holds you in his arms. He looks at you through his lashes, his lips tilting into lopsided smile. ‘Is that a yes, then?’

‘Yes,’ you answer. ‘Of course.’

‘How’s right now for you?’ He motions to the doors and your friends have finally been corralled to the side of the walkway, revealing an elaborately decorated table in the food court.

You gasp and grip his arm. Jun and Sehun hold the doors open and Jongdae escorts you out. A red tablecloth is spread out over the circular table. The chairs have added plush cushions and several candles have been lit. A bottle of wine and two glasses rest beside several plates of food. You recognize the pizza from Barada, the rest looks like a mix from the other restaurants in the food court. 

With high fives and hugs from your friends they finally leave you and Jongdae alone. Well, almost alone. It’s not a busy time at the mall, but there’s no way to avoid some of the customers turning to watch with amusement and curiosity as they pass by. You pay them no mind as Jongdae holds out your chair and helps you sit. 

The two of you fall back into conversation easy enough, aided by the enormous amount of food and how you no longer have to move your knees away when they bump under the table. Jongdae reaches for your hand and holds it, in full view. He stares at the joined digits with warmth before looking up at you. 

Doubt passes across his face, marring the beauty that contentment lends his features. ‘I don’t -’ he struggles. ‘I don’t know how to keep this much good in my life. I worry that I’m going to mess it up.’

Neither of you are the type to openly acknowledge such things. Merely the fact that he’s voicing his fears to you shows you he’s doing what he said - he’s trying, he wants to change. And truthfully so do you. 

‘I worried for the longest time that I’d be alone forever,’ you say softly. ‘I didn’t think I’d ever find someone who understood me or who could handle all my - well, you know how I am.’ 

Jongdae smiles then, lifting your joined hands to his lips to press a kiss to your skin. ‘I love who you are.’ 

Your eyes mist at that and you groan, trying to blink them back. ‘Good, because I love who you are too.’ With your free hand you reach for his, needing to hold both of them and all of him at once. Not wanting to give his overly-analytical mind a chance to override the fragile hope you’re both building tonight. ‘You know what to do when a computer overloads?’

He nods. ‘Of course. Often it’s just a simple matter of turning it off and on again.’

‘So,’ you say, lifting your shoulder in a shrug. ‘When we mess up or freak out or say the wrong thing, we’ll just start over again. As long as you want me and I want you, we’ll figure it out.’ 

Jongdae softens, his shoulders dropping and ease coming back into his eyes. ‘I didn’t know I was lagging until you jump started my life.’ He waggles his brows. It’s a gesture that’s all Baekhyun, and a pun so terrible that Junmyeon would be proud. You can’t help but laugh and squeeze his hands. 

‘I’ve got one more surprise,’ Jongdae says, reluctantly releasing one of your hands to pull two narrow slips of paper from his pocket. ‘Do you have any plans for Christmas?’ 

The tickets are in both your names. First class round trip from Seattle to Amsterdam. ‘Oh my - Jongdae, what is this? You and me in Amsterdam?’ 

‘I figured it was about time,’ he says with pride. 

You lean out of your chair and reach for him, tugging him closer to kiss him fully. Noise reaches you - clapping and cheering from the shops around the mall. When you look around you see Sehun and his girlfriend leaning out of Starlight Apparel. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo smiling and fist bumping as they work on closing up the shop. 

Hitch nudges Baekhyun from the theater booth and he jumps in excitement. And from Guardians Junmyeon leans on the counter, resting his chin in his hand, giving a thumbs up. 

You roll your eyes and wave. ‘We maybe should have gone somewhere outside the mall, huh?’

'No, I think this is perfect,’ Jongdae answers. He then covers your mouth with his and holds you so tight that it drowns out the chorus of cheering that echos around the space. 

[abronzeagegod]

WIP: Eldritch Tech Support Chapter 1: Helping a Spider Aspect

[Author's Note: this is the first chapter of a long, multi-chapter story that is likely going to be longer than all the other eldritch tech support stories combined, probably north of 20,000 words. As of writing, I'm just under 8,000 words and I haven't even hit the main plot yet. This is also being written in third person because it feels very necessary for story and scenes, I do plan on redoing some select parts in the traditional second person to see how it flows. Please enjoy and thank you to everyone who has read and supported me so far!]

Tech support is hard, this is a known fact, not a secret.

To be good at tech support you really need to have intelligence, charisma, and lots of faith.

Luckily Aeth knew that they had intelligence, well as much as they could know that about themself. They knew how to code and use some of the languages of computers, including the notoriously complex and silly C++- (C Plus Plus Minus). They had a degree from a local university attesting to that effect. Intelligence also governs knowing how computers interact with each other, and how the hardware within a computer interacts with the computer as a whole.

They're also fairly certain they have charisma. At least that's what their best friend Lyta keeps telling them.

"You have such an easy charisma about you. You're nice, easy to talk to. It's why I like you so much," she says at least once a week.

Charisma for tech support is a must because people can be weirdly cagey with their personal electronics, and they often refuse to tell the whole story from some combination of shame, self interest, and ignorance. The people themselves are a puzzle that require trust to solve and get them to reveal what insane, stupid, nonsensical things that they did to the whole system to get it to function this way.

However, the most crucial skill to have in tech support is faith.

Faith is key to figuring out exactly what the hell is going on and why the client believes that this whole thing is working, and why the working thing suddenly stopped working. Why the things that should work, do work.

They all have to be something of a priest with no god. They become a priest with every job, a priest that believes in this specific code, a priest of servers and computers and cold dead things imbued with the power of lightning and math.

Every job is a little bit different, a little bit stranger than the one before it. Every role of a priest ever so slightly different.

And Aeth has been accused of having too much faith at times. Faith that has to go somewhere, so it goes into the job.

Aeth was out in the field today. Luckily their rotation was pretty easy, they had two days out in the field, two days in the call center. Not that bad, all things considered. This was their last day before their thankfully long weekend which couldn't come soon enough.

It had been a busy day, crisscrossing their district in the northeast of the city, bouncing between several different tech support calls. Mostly internet related things, lots of outages and router trouble, at least one person was having their router haunted by his mother-in-law.

If they were lucky they'd only have two more calls to do before they called it a day and finally went home.

But that's the thing about their luck, it was always bad.

The penultimate job was for an underearth spider aspect god. They couldn't remember the exact religious denomination they belonged to, but it mattered little.

It is the nature of priests and tech support personnel to be superstitious.

They changed in the work van before heading to the third floor walk up the spider aspect lived in.

The rules for spider aspects were to wear colors, but not super bright, anything that attracted too much attention was either predator or prey. A nice pastel blue to signify that they weren't aggressive but also that they weren't something to be consumed.

There were plenty of rules and restrictions on the entities that lived in the city, and they knew that their job would never willingly send a tech support person into the lair of a giant person-eating spider, but they still had that fear, and that fear fed the superstitions.

Thus they changed in the van and before they went into the den of the spider, they grabbed a small vial of an anise solution, something that was supposed to be abhorrent to all spiders.

It was just in case, they told themselves.

They reached the door and knocked a few times, calling out to announce themselves.

"It's Tech Support," Aeth called out.

A few moments later the door cracked open and out spilled some darkness.

"We called for you," the entity just beyond the door said in a raspy voice with several clicks as they spoke.

"My name is Aeth," they say as they hold up their work ID to verify that they are there to help.

"Come in," the spider aspect said.

The door creaked open, and Aeth stepped beyond it to the apartment. It was dark and dry in there, it smelled faintly of some kind of incense, but they couldn't place exactly what kind. The darkness felt almost like a blanket draped over everything.

"You've had some issues installing some hardware?" they say as the spider god closes the door.

The spider was tall, almost seven feet but that was with all the hunching over and keeping their many limbs tucked in close. If they were to straighten up and spread out they would be almost oppressive. They were dressed simply, with a t-shirt that had a very detailed train on it that said, "My One True Love The A57-19 Commuter".

The spider nods it's great, large head.

"New keyboard, won't work," the spider said as it led Aeth towards the area where the desktop sat. "Requires new drivers, very frustrating." They can't help but notice the awkward way the spider can't quite pronounce the s's in their sentences, and how they have been deliberately avoiding them.

"Should be an easy fix," Aeth said as they sat at the computer and took out their own equipment.

The second they said it, they knew that they shouldn't have.

---

Fifteen minutes into the job, they knew that things were much much dumber than they should have been.

The new mechanical keyboard need some kind of new driver installed but it wouldn't give any indication into what driver it needed. Aeth spent a decent amount of time looking up the exact make and model of the keyboard on their own equipment, but it seemed that the company that made it flamed out very hard a few months ago.

("Found keyboard preowned, very cheap, in great condition, am on budget," the spider explained.)

The company wasn't the best or the most trustworthy, thus their sudden and total collapse.

As they were very close to locating the problem suddenly a small train that they didn't notice on a track hidden in the darkness of the apartment all but thundered in. The track was elevated near the ceiling, and the small model train was bright and loud in the dark and quiet room. It looked like some kind of Immortal Dancer party train with bright, flashing neon attached to all the train cars.

The entrance came as a shock to Aeth, but it really shouldn't have. They had a look at the computer and saw the icons on the desktop.

The spider aspect had three different train simulation games and they might have peaked and saw that they had logged close to 800 hours on one of them.

They tried to apologize to Aeth for the interruption and the train was on a timer that they had forgotten about, but honestly, whatever brings people joy, even if they are an underearth spider god aspect that would give some humans nightmares.

"I'm not here to judge," Aeth assured them and returned to the problem.

Eventually, they found the fix when they took the keyboard apart and found the little add-on that shouldn't have been there.

After examining it closely, and double checking their work, Aeth turned to the spider. "I think I found the problem. NDIVISION, the company that made this keyboard went out of business a few months back under a lot of customer complaints and bad business practices. They had, apparently, installed a keylogger in their keyboards to nominally track the use of their keyboards and when things needed to be replaced but was a massive security and privacy risk, so the complain exploded essentially so that suing them would be very hard to do. The keylogger is trying to reach a server that doesn't exist anymore."

The spider looked incredibly disheartened. Aeth privately congratulated themself on recognizing the body language of a spider god aspect.

"I can, probably, fix it. But the trick is that this will 100% void any warranty that you got with the keyboard, but since the company that would fulfill the warranty doesn't exist anymore."

"What can be done?"

"I can fix it, if you tell me I can violate the warranty. It might break later down the line, but this will work for all your day-to-day needs."

"Streaming?" The spider looked eager. Aeth had recognized the setup of a new streamer, trying to get their thing off the ground.

"Absolutely."

"Go ahead."

Aeth nodded and in a few short moments, removed the keylogger, then quickly wrote some code into the driver for the keyboard to bypass the keyboard trying to call the server of a defunct, terrible company.

The whole job took an hour.

Before they left, Aeth left the name of a very good company that made excellent keyboards when the spider was ready to upgrade to something new.

The spider thanked Aeth profusely, and almost didn't let them leave to get to their next job.

It was still early enough to make it to their last job of the day.

Hopefully this one would be much easier than the previous one.

Hopefully Aeth's luck would hold out.

if you like this check out my kofi page where you can read subsequent chapters early and find a bunch of my other stuff