#audio socket

[crazebyte]

https://blog.audiosocket.com/genres/discover-new-royalty-free-ambient-music-for-videos/

[audiosocketseo]

https://blog.audiosocket.com/blog/spatial-audio-in-vr-ar-and-metaverse-applications/

[sw5w]

Oh, My

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:14:46

[strifetime]

Hoping this lady who borrowed my phone to call a family member is able to get what she needed! I feel bad that my anxiety got the best of me because I didn't feel comfortable letting her hold my phone but I hope that the voicemail gets checked sooner rather than later o(-(

[novelistparty]

starting to enjoy the tidying-up part of making a thing. gathering the bits of leftover material, putting tools back in their cases, and then loading things into their boxes and putting them on the shelf

[johngrey67]

sound socket | audio video port | socket audio

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[crles2waski]

https://www.futureelectronics.com/p/interconnect--connector-tools-contacts-accessories/dt06-2s-c015-te-connectivity-6076068

Wire housing, USB connectors, circular connector, socket adapter, terminal block

DT Series Contact Size 16 2 Way Gray Plug

[stargirlrchive]

darker content! smut, masturbating, fem!reader, creepy?simon but actually not even — 18+ MINOR DNI

the feeling settled in your stomach a few weeks back. like you were being watched. but you couldn’t pinpoint why. just that every time you entered your apartment, the hairs on your body stood and your pulse raced.

it must have been the stress, the change.

you had only just moved into the apartment 6 months prior, you lived alone and were in a new city. plus you had the habit of binging true crime documentaries.

it was all just in your head, you told yourself.

and everyone was nice. all the tenants in the apartment complex were friendly. especially simon.

big bulk of a man who lived right across from you and was always just…there. always helping out.

just a few weeks ago a socket in your bedroom had gone out and he had helped you fix it.

you knew why of course, saw it in the hunger in his eyes when he trailed over your softer form. it made heat coil low in your belly anytime his eyes lingered down your body.

but alas, you refused to fuck a neighbor. could you imagine how awkward that would be if things didn’t work out? and something about simon screamed commitment. like once he had you, he’d make sure to keep you. and you weren’t ready for that. no fucking way.

but late at night when all you had were your fingers to keep you company, you couldn’t help but imagine him.

his towering bulk pressing into you and folding you in half. taking and taking and taking what he wants from you.

fingers flying over your clit as you panted his name, over and over again. fucking yourself on your fingers until your body couldn’t take it and the tension in your belly snapped as you came.

and it wasn’t your fault you hadn’t seen the camera plugged into the new socket simon had fixed for you.

it wasn’t like you knew he’d be just down the hall, watching you.

and simon swore it had started out as a means to make sure you were alright. was he being a bit obsessive? sure. but who could blame him? a pretty little bird had just moved in, all alone. they needed someone, needed him.

and he was a fucking handyman, how much better could it get? you’d never need for anything. but him. only him and he’d always be there.

but then the look in your eyes changed, nervous little flick turning warm and lazy, like you were imagining him naked and in your bedroom.

so when you told him about the electrical socket in your bedroom fizzing out, he couldn’t help himself.

spewed some bullshit to you about how something always needs to be plugged into the bottom outlet for it to work, and you had believed him.

been a good girl and not fucked with the camera he had set up.

pulse racing as he watched you settle into bed, as he watched your fingers toy and touch and play with your cunt.

cock rock fucking hard as he heard your voice over the shitty speaker the camera had built in.

heard the desperation in your voice as you called out for him. fuck.

thick calloused palm pressing to his cock. watching your body writhe and shake. only cursing when the audio kept cutting out and the camera would freeze.

yeah, a pretty little thing like you needed protection, because simon wasn’t a good man. and he needed to keep you safe from men like that. from men like him.

tomorrow…tomorrow he’d get a better set up.

[squinch-depraved]

based on a dream i had where ted finds footage of you and schlatt doin some stuff 😔

chuckle week is just a convenient excuse to be all together i'm sorry i write it so much :(

ted tossed his phone down onto his desk with a heavy sigh, finally giving in and sitting down to begin rifling through the hours of footage from chuckle week. something had come up and a last minute text from schlatt, of all people, saying he was going to have to be the one to edit it pulled him from his hazy afternoon of trying to sleep so that he didn't notice how empty his apartment was now that his best friends had left him there all alone. the quiet had seeped under his skin, which was so desperately missing your soft touch and schlatt's rougher one. he shook off the lingering unease and tried to immerse himself in reliving the memories of his great week as he slipped on his headphones and began editing.

hours crept by as he sat at the desk, leg tapping endlessly in an attempt to get some energy out of his system. he had just finished editing the first episode when he noticed it. everybody went to lunch after filming that one, he remembered because he went out with tucker and emma and was a bit sad the two of you didn't want to come with to the rainforest cafe. but here was footage with audio from that lunch break, about 2 hours captured from one camera and a mic left running. he skimmed through it, letting out a puff of air through his nostrils when he realized it was just a view of the empty booth everyone sits in for the podcast. about a third of the way through, though, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when schlatt and you stumble into view, tangled together in a mess of limbs holding limbs and warm kisses. schlatt slotted himself into the booth and coaxed you into his lap, immediately resuming the sloppy make out session. he groaned, gripping your hips tightly when you ground yourself down onto his clothed lap.

ted felt many things in those seconds where he discovered the footage. disbelief, at first, faded into feeling disrespected. after all, this podcast was his baby, and the two of you doing what you were about to do on that set while ignoring him for lunch pissed him off greatly. but anger faded to arousal the longer he watched you bite at schlatt's neck, and he smiled when the man swatted you away so he could touch you instead. ted sucked a breath in when he started rubbing circles into your crotch under your skirt. he started undoing his pants when you reared your head back and by the time your pornstar quality moan had echoed through the studio, he had eagerly spit into his hand and was stroking himself slowly. a deep groan tore itself from his lips as he began to buck his hips up into his fist, eyes trained on his monitor watching you kiss schlatt.

when he pulled away, he placed his hand on your cheek and stroked it softly. "we gotta hurry, doll, i don't know how long we have 'til someone gets back," he breathed, just loud enough for ted to hear. his friend's voice stole another moan from his lips as he continued to pump his cock. his eyes screwed shut for a moment, and he thought about the numerous filthy things he would do if you two were there with him before he snapped them back open to see schlatt sliding his thick shaft out of his sweatpants, precum leaking from the tip. you grinned and (not-so) gracefully slid yourself under the table to take him in your mouth, leaving only schlatt in view as erotic noises spilled from his lips. after a second, he focuses his dark, lust filled eyes on the camera and nods down at you, as if acknowledging that someone would be watching this.

a guttural grunt tore from ted's throat as he thrusted upwards recklessly, gripping his long, weeping cock like he had never needed something so bad in his entire life. he rolled his eyes upwards and lost himself for a bit again before focusing back in to find schlatt helping you back up and positioning you over his member before sliding his hands under your skirt and sliding your underwear to the side. you yelped as his thick fingers slid in you easily, and he pumped one, then two in and out for a bit, drawing melodic moans from you before he withdrew them and slipped them directly in his mouth. ted and you made a similar face- he wished he could taste you. he blinked again and you were getting impaled on schlatt's lap, nothing visible under the skirt except when one of you moved too vigorously and it flew up, exposing only flashes of where you interlocked.

ted whined, feeling himself getting close, and furrowed his brows together. he leaned back in his desk chair, almost panting, and continued to stare at you masterfully working your hips, grinding and bouncing so well both schlatt and him were lost in it. the man lucky enough to be feeling you smacked your ass, earning a sharp whimper. "c'mon, toots, getting close," he mumbled. "did so good suckin' me off, doesn't take much from this pretty pussy to do it for me." his hands disappeared under the skirt and ted could only imagine his fingers working deftly, tracing figure eights on your sensitive nub.

you began to ride him more frantically, whorish noises poured from your tongue and dared to expose the two of you to anyone who may have come near. you came first, arched your back in a way that left ted rapidly approaching his high. he bucked and rutted his hips into the air, desperate for any contact from the two people he needed most. a pathetic, gasping mess, he came all over his stomach, and watched through lidded eyes as schlatt finished in you and kissed you before sending you to go clean yourself up while he cleaned up the mess you two made. ordinarily he would never make you take care of yourself, but he didn't know how much time you had, so this was how it had to be. once you were presumably out of earshot, schlatt looked at the camera again and grinned.

"hope you enjoyed, ted," he said, adjusting his sweatpants and walking over to turn the camera off.

ted blinked hazily and couldn't help but smile.

[0cta9on]

For The Cameras

Length: +6k words

Genre: Fluff

IVE Gaeul x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Thank you to the buyer for purchasing this commission! If you are interested in purchasing a commission from me or simply want to leave a little tip, read this post first and then head on over to my ko-fi page!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Somehow, despite this strange man you’ve never met before snaking his hands through your shirt, all you can think about is what you’re going to say to her. Will a simple “hello” suffice? Should you open with an old inside joke? A cliche “long time, no see”? Will she even remember you after all these years?

“Dude,” the strange man mutters, his deadpan eyes staring at you, but not quite looking at you.

“O-oh, sorry. Were you saying something?” you ask nervously.

“I need you to speak into the mic to check if it’s working properly,” he says, pointing at the collar of your shirt.

You peer down and notice a black fuzzy ball sticking out from your collar. If he hadn’t pointed it out to you beforehand, you would have definitely jumped and made yourself look like an even bigger fool than you probably already do. “R-right. Uh, hello? One, two, three, testing?”

He looks back at a man some distance away, fiddling with knobs on a small black box as he listens to your audio through his chunky headphones. A tense moment passes before he flashes a thumbs up in your direction.

“All right, you’re all good,” he utters before walking off without another word, leaving you completely stranded amidst this flurry of chaos. Screaming children running around, the distant rumble of roller coasters, a food stand selling trendy overpriced products every two steps—normal things you would see at an amusement park. What’s not normal is the couple dozen people around you handling all kinds of expensive-looking camera and audio equipment. If you had to bet, the fuzzy little ball clipped to your collar probably costs more than your rent.

You had no idea what you were getting into when you first signed up for that fan event. Winning a chance to film a variety show with a member of IVE seemed too good to be true, but after you found out that you would be filming it with her, entering the event was a no-brainer. By some stroke of luck, you’re now here in the middle of an amusement park, all but abandoned while jolly children’s songs and the incessant beeping of walkie-talkies makes it difficult to hear yourself think.

“Hey you!” A booming voice somehow cuts through all the noise, and you suddenly find yourself face to face with another man you’ve never met before. Unlike everyone else, however, he seems much more relaxed, even happy to be here. Despite his bulging muscles barely contained in his Hawaiian shirt, his steps are lightweight and peppy compared to the scrambling of footsteps of his subordinates, and the wrinkles outlining his wide smile are a testament to his years of experience in… whatever it is that he does.

You let out a sigh of relief as his demeanor puts you at ease in an instant. “Hello, sir,” you greet him.

He forcefully takes your hand into a firm handshake, almost jerking your arm out of its socket. “I’m Mr. Park, I’m the production director of today’s shoot!” he says, his voice loud and boisterous. “You must be our star for today!”

“I-I wouldn’t say that,” you mutter bashfully.

“Nonsense!” he guffaws. “I just wanna give you a quick little rundown of what we’re gonna be filming today. Basically, you’re just gonna go around the amusement park, hang out and talk with the idol, maybe even flirt a bit, y’know, play it up for the cameras.” Mr. Park punctuates his explanation with a hearty chuckle and a friendly elbow to your rib. What a guy.

“Uh, yeah, sure, I can do that—”

Suddenly, he pulls you close, donning a deathly serious expression that sends a chill down your spine. “If you do anything to ruin today’s shoot, I have a six foot hole in the middle of the woods with your name on it, if you catch my drift.”

Before you even have time to process what he said, Mr. Park walks off like nothing happened, his pearly whites gleaming as if he didn’t just threaten to end you moments before. You figured there would be some oddballs in this industry, but you didn’t expect it to be this insane. If things are like this after barely an hour here, you can only imagine what her daily life is like.

“There she is!” You hear Mr. Park’s voice in the distance as a group of burly men all clad in black approaches the set. Judging by their appearance, you can tell that they’re bodyguards, which means the person their protecting is—

“Hello, Mr. Park! It’s nice to see you again!” The two bodyguards at the front part, giving way for Gaeul to walk through and shake hands with Mr. Park. Your breath catches in your throat at the mere sight of her and all the greetings you’ve rehearsed in your head all morning flutter away like butterflies.

You suddenly feel like a little kid again, waiting at her front door so the two of you can go look for frogs or build a castle out of anything you could find in the forest near your houses. Before she was Gaeul, one of the stars of IVE and adored by billions of people around the world, she was simply Gaeul, your best friend that was never afraid to get her hands dirty for the sake of adventure. She was the girl that made your world feel a little less lonely.

And yet, despite her being right in front of you for the first time in years, the distance between you has never felt so far.

As Gaeul and Mr. Park approaches you, you inhale a shaky breath, trying your best to calm your nerves.

“...and this gentleman over here,” Mr. Park explains as he gestures towards you, “is the lucky fan who you’ll be spending the day with!”

You catch her eyes, and for a moment, everything around you seems to vanish. You know deep in your gut that it’s her, but she looks so… beautiful. Instead of the oversized hand-me-downs from her brother, she’s wearing clothes that actually fit her properly—a flower top, a pink cardigan, and a frilly black skirt that shows off her legs in a way that baggy cargo shorts never could. Her hair and makeup is perfectly and meticulously done up, you would mistake her for a doll if you walked by her too fast. Every trace of the Gaeul you once knew is gone—except for her eyes and the way they still light up when they meet yours.

“H-hi,” you stutter, extending a trembling hand towards her. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you.”

She pauses, glancing down at your hand before looking back up at your eyes. A smile creeps up on her glossy lips, and then the scent of strawberry shampoo assaults your senses in the most pleasant way possible as she wraps her arms around your neck in a warm embrace.

“It’s nice to see you again, small fry,” she says softly.

In a past life, you would’ve been annoyed by that silly little nickname—it’s not your fault that your growth spurt hit you later than hers did—but hearing it after so long fills you with an immense amount of happiness that you can’t quite describe. She still remembers you.

“Ehem,” Mr. Park clears his throat, reminding you of the involuntary audience witnessing your reunion. With heat racing towards your cheeks, you reluctantly free Gaeul from your arms. “Do, uh, do you two know each other?”

“He was my best friend back in middle school before I became a trainee,” she explains, beaming. ”We were inseparable back then.”

Mr. Park approaches you, his expression growing dark just like it did before. “Kid…” he mumbles, his voice low. Suddenly, he grabs onto your shoulder with a vice-like grip and lifts you off the ground until your legs are dangling helplessly in the air.

“U-uh, Mr. Park? W-what are you—”

“You. Are. A. Godsend!” he exclaims, now back to his cheery self. “This’ll be great for ratings! I can see the headlines now: ‘IVE’s Gaeul reunites with childhood friend after he wins a fan event!’ If I wasn’t happily married to my wife of seven years, I would kiss you right now!” Finally, he drops you back on your feet and hurriedly struts away, yelling at the staff members. “Let’s get this show on the road, folks! Time is money and I don’t wanna lose a single penny!”

Gaeul pats your shoulder, not even trying to stifle a laugh at your bewildered expression. “Are you alright? Mr. Park has a few screws loose, but I promise you he’s nice.”

Her touch immediately puts you at ease as you let out a chuckle of your own. “Well, my dignity is at an all time low, but what’s new?”

If you had to embarrass yourself in front of a member of IVE, at least it’s the one that’s already seen you at your absolute worst. Like no time has passed at all, the two of you slip back into comfortable patterns of banter. There’s so much you want to tell her. Milestones she missed, horrific first dates, and a plethora of other Gaeul-less memories that you know she’ll tease you for.

“I still can’t believe it’s you, small fry,” she says. “You look great.”

“I’m not sure if you can call me that anymore,” you playfully shoot back. Getting your growth spurt before she went off to be an idol would’ve saved you a childhood of torment by her hand, but hey, better late than never.

“Oh whatever, I’ll call you whatever I damn want to.”

With a smirk, she walks off as Mr. Park calls on the two of you to get ready for filming. You always imagined your reunion to be a little more peaceful, maybe on a random chilly evening at a coffee shop, but the specifics don’t matter to you. What matters is that Gaeul is finally here, right in front of you.

You can finally do what you failed to do back in middle school.

______________________________________________________________

You’re wise enough to know that not everything you see on these kinds of shows is real, but you never realized just how scripted it all is. From the activities you do to the things you say, you feel more like a robot following commands than a regular person spending the day at an amusement park. Gaeul takes everything in stride, seemingly used to this kind of environment, but not having the freedom to properly speak to Gaeul leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

“Listen up, you two!” Mr. Park calls out from behind the camera. “You’re gonna look through the gift shop, try some things on, give a few compliments, big reactions y’know, really play it up for the camera and whatnot. Oh, and Gaeul?”

“Yes?” She tilts her head.

“Keep calling him that little nickname, uh ‘teeny fry’ or whatever it is.”

She cracks a little smirk in your direction. “Sure thing, Mr. Park.”

You sigh, masking your dismay with a neutral expression. “Why are we going to the gift shop first? Isn’t this what people do last?” you ask Gaeul.

She responds with a simple shrug. “I’ve learned not to question things and just go with the flow.”

“Huh?” You dramatically gasp in faux shock. “Are you sure you’re the Gaeul I know? Because I’m pretty sure I remember you annoying the substitute teacher with questions about frogs until they stormed out in the middle of class.”

“That’s different!” she exclaims. “Besides, that was so long ago, I’m basically a different person now.”

“Yeah, I noticed. You actually dress like a girl now.”

“Oh my god, don’t even remind me!” Her cheeks turn a cherry red as memories of her tragic middle school fashion choices come back to haunt her. “It’s a miracle that I even got casted in the first place looking like that.”

You let out a laugh. “You look good now though. Seriously.”

“Just good?” Gaeul says, offended. She steps back and gives you a little twirl, showcasing her entire outfit in all its glory. “Last time you saw me, I was wearing my brother’s old cargo shorts, and you’re telling me that I only look good?!”

“I-I didn’t— I mean…” There’s so many things you want to say, words and phrases rehearsed over years of imagining what your reunion would be like. Finally, you have the opportunity to say it out loud to her face. So just say it.

“Y-you look bea—”

“ALRIGHT, PLACES EVERYBODY!!!’ Mr. Park shouts. Before you can finish your thought, Gaeul hurries to her spot where the director told the two of you to start. You shake your head, coming to your senses and following her to your spot. Not great timing, but there will be other chances later.

Once the cameras start rolling, the two of you enter the gift shop, looking around at all the overpriced products the shop has to offer. T-shirts, headbands, hats, mini figurines of the amusement park’s mascot, just about anything a child could want and a parent would dread to buy. Like Mr. Park instructed, you do your best to give off big reactions, but frankly, this place is the least exciting part about going to an amusement park. Gaeul, on the other hand, plays it off like a true professional.

“Wow, look at this place!” she exclaims, her voice an octave higher than her regular speaking voice. “Oh my gosh, everything is so cute!”

“Y-yeah, wow! So cute!” you awkwardly parrot. Thankfully, the cameras are mainly following Gaeul, so your poor attempts at acting go unnoticed by the crew.

Gaeul takes one of the shirts off the hangers and puts it to your chest. “What do you think about this shirt, small fry? I’ll buy it for you if you want!” she says, punctuating her statement with a wink.

You chuckle in an attempt to hide the heat creeping up your face. “I’d rather launch myself into the sun than wear that ugly shirt,” you quip.

“CUT!” Mr. Park barks. “Hey kid, the park is allowing us to film here for a discounted fee, so maybe don’t talk bad about their merchandise.”

“A-ah… Right, sorry…”

Gaeul stifles a chuckle, putting the shirt back on the hanger. “It’s okay, they can just edit that part out,” she says in an attempt to console you. Unlike seconds before, her voice is back down to her usual tone.

“Uh, why are you doing that thing with your voice?” you ask.

“What thing?” She stares at you with a curious expression, one that holds not even a hint of joking.

“Uh… Nevermind.” Like she said, learn not to question things.

“Alright, let’s try this again, without the sass this time,” Mr. Park says, gesturing specifically to you. “Action!”

In an instant, Gaeul springs back into her idol persona, cheerfully skipping through each aisle and pointing out every little thing. “I wish I could buy everything in the store!”

“You probably could with your net worth,” you instinctively joke. Remembering what happened before, your eyes peer carefully towards Mr. Park, who thankfully smirks at your little jest. Relieved, you decide to do what he said before and try some “flirting”.

You grab a frog headband from one of the shelves and hand it to Gaeul. “Why don’t you try this on? I think it would look cute on you.” Something about talking to her this way leaves an odd, warm feeling in your stomach. Not bad, per se, but different.

She takes the headband from you and tries it on. “What do you think, small fry?” she asks, posing more for the cameras than for you. “Am I stealing your heart with this look? 

A rush of heat floods your head at her idol fan service. It’s not the first time you’ve seen her do this kind of thing, but there’s a huge difference in seeing it through a screen and seeing it in person, directed right at you. You thought you would cringe or laugh, but you’re not even sure how to react anymore with the pounding of your heart in your ears.

“U-uh, sure, yeah, whatever…” you mutter. You expected a witty comeback from her, poking fun at your barely coherent mumblings, but instead, you feel Gaeul’s arm link with yours as she pulls you towards one of the mirrors hanging on the walls. In all the confusion, she somehow managed to put a dog headband on your head.

“Ah, we look so cute!” she exclaims, her high-pitched voice ringing in your ears. 

You stare back at the reflection, forgetting all about the cameras as you take in every single detail. Gaeul linking her arms with yours, smiling at you with that silly little frog headband on. It’s almost as if you’re looking into a portal to an alternate universe where Gaeul never moved away. Where the two of you ended up as a… couple.

That warm feeling fills your stomach at the thought—but this time, it’s mixed with guilt. Gaeul never accomplished her dreams in that universe, and for what? Sure, you get more time with her and grow up alongside her, but she doesn’t become that big star that she always dreamed about being. There’s no point in clinging onto “what if’s”. Life played out like this and now you have to accept it.

“Hey.” Gaeul nudges your side, her voice back down to its usual octave. Her eyes gaze at you with worry. “You alright? Mr. Park yelled ‘cut’ a minute ago.”

You shake your head, ridding yourself of stray thoughts. “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you reassure her. “Being in front of cameras has got me a little nervous, I guess.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’re doing great. Nice job playing it up for the cameras,” she compliments before walking off to the next filming location.

Yeah… Just for the cameras…

______________________________________________________________

The ferris wheel stands high and mighty, casting long shadows on the park grounds. It is the quintessential amusement park ride that everyone loves, including you. Stuck in a small, cramped box high in the sky, with a perfect view of the setting sun, it’s all so… romantic.

Scratch that thought from your mind. You’re not here for any ulterior motives other than filming this show and catching up with an old friend. That’s it. Nothing else. 

“So, obviously we can’t fit an entire camera crew in one of those boxes, so we went ahead and fitted it with some cameras and mics to properly capture everything,” Mr. Park explains to you and Gaeul. “Just do what I said—act natural, big reactions—and everything should be smooth sailing from here.” Sounds contradictory, but you’re not about to talk back to a guy that threatened to bury you deep in the woods.

After he finishes explaining, the ride attendant helps you and Gaeul into the ride, and you begin your ascent into the sky. It feels like cruel irony, finally getting the chance to spend alone time with Gaeul, but not actually getting to spend alone time with her.

With a sigh, you muster up the biggest fake smile you can and start to act. “Wow, ferris wheels are so fun, I can’t wait to—”

“You can drop the act now,” Gaeul chuckles.

Your head tilts in curiosity. “What do you mean? Didn’t Mr. Park say that—”

“I convinced some of the crew to turn off the cameras this time around,” she explains. “We’ll have to ride again and play up the reactions, but for this time at least, we can just talk.”

You let out a sigh of relief and slump back into your seat. Finally. “Thank God for your influence, I don’t know if I could keep up the acting.” She smiles, mimicking your movements and lazing against the seat across from you. “Yeah, that’s probably one of the things I like least about this job.”

“Man, it must be tiring putting on a mask every single day for the cameras.”

She shrugs. “It could be worse. At least I get to do this with you, small fry.” Gaeul flashes a bright smile at you, and unlike the smile she dons while the cameras are rolling, you can feel the genuine warmth travel from across the booth. “So, have you been after all this time? I’m sure you have a bunch of stories from the years we’ve been apart.”

“So many,” you reply. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about high school? I never got to properly experience it for myself, y’know.”

“Right, wow, okay.” You sit up, barely able to contain your excitement at the chance to properly talk about things with her. “So, freshman year, I—”

“Is that the first one?”

“Yeah, it’s the first one,” you answer, chuckling at her curious expression. “So, freshman year, it’s a new school, whole bunch of new people, and obviously you weren’t around anymore, so I decided to join a school club.”

“Wow, really? You were basically attached to my hip all throughout middle school, I never thought you’d actually go out of your way to join a club,” she teases. “What club was it?”

“It was, uh…” You clear your throat, suddenly feeling very embarrassed under her gaze. “...the esports club.” You brace yourself for the incoming barrage of mockery and laughter, but instead, you’re met with Gaeul’s eyes brightening with awe.

“That makes so much sense, you always were good at video games!” she compliments. “How was it, were you any good?”

With your ego now inflated, you smirk and cross your arms. “Not to brag, but I did carry my team to 2nd place of the state championships,” you boast.

“Hey, that’s amazing!”

You can hear it in her voice, plain as day, that there’s not a hint of sarcasm or malice behind her words—she’s genuinely impressed by your silly little esports accolades. Being part of that club did little to boost your popularity and only served to make you the target of some bullying, but it was also some of your most cherished memories from high school. When you felt lost navigating that new environment without Gaeul, that club was the only thing keeping you together.

“Oh, I have to ask—what were school dances like?” Gaeul inquires, a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

You let out a heavy sigh as you think about all the bad experiences at each school dance. If the esports club was the highest high of your high school days, then school dances were your lowest lows.

“They were… not great. For me, at least. I was probably an outlier for that kind of thing,” you mutter, sinking back into your seat as the weight of those awful experiences pulls you down.

“Oh… sorry,” Gaeul says, your gaze drifting to the side. “Why, did you have a bad date or something?”

“I had no date, Gaeul. I was in the esports club,” you clarify. “Besides, I never bothered trying to ask out a girl during high school anyways.”

“Why not? You’re a nice guy, I’m sure any girl would’ve been lucky to go out with you!” she exclaims.

You chuckle. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but there wasn’t really anyone I wanted to ask to a school dance.”

“Really? Not a single person you had a crush on?” She leans into you with curiosity, not realizing the proximity of your faces. You can see every single detail of the visage that you grew up with, analyzing how much has changed and yet still stayed the same. Those big, round eyes that light up when you mention frogs or crack a clever joke. The puff of her cheeks every time  she tries—and fails—to hold in a laugh. The curve of her pretty lips whenever she calls you “small fry”. Remnants of your childhood together, still visible on the face you haven’t stopped thinking about ever since she left.

You lean back in your seat, the lack of space becoming too overwhelming. “I-I, um…”

“Aha! You did have a crush on someone!” she shouts excitedly. “Who was it? You better tell me their name, or else!”

“U-uh, h-her name? Um… Uh… A-autumn,” you sputter out nervously, too frazzled to think straight. Great job, you idiot. ‘Autumn”? Now she’s gonna know that you have a crush on—

“What a pretty name! Was she cute?”

“Huh?” Dumbfounded, you decide to take it and roll with it. “Uh, I mean, yeah, she was cute.”

“What was she like?”

“She was…” You pause, collecting your thoughts. The ferris wheel nears its peak as rays of sunset peek through the window, lighting up your carriage with an evening glow. “She was unimaginably amazing. She was strong and confident and determined and never let anyone’s words affect her. Whatever she wanted to accomplish, she could do it and make it look easy. She was also incredibly kind and hilarious and curious about the world around her, always asking questions with this admirable crave for more knowledge. And she was…”

At last, your carriage is lifted to the highest point of the ferris wheel. Like a spotlight, the setting sun projects the last of its light onto Gaeul’s face, illuminating her like the star that she was born to be. Mother nature paints her with the most beautiful shades of golden brown, casting an aura that only you get the luxury of seeing.

“...she’s beautiful.”

“Wow,” Gaeul breathes. The light from the sunset fades as it falls behind the horizon, yet Gaeul continues to glow with an aura that only you can see. “You must have really liked her, huh?”

“Y-yeah, I did…” you utter softly. “...but it was never gonna work out. She had big things planned, and I was always too nervous to ask her out anyways, so… it’s whatever.”

“That sucks.” She leans her head against the window and takes a deep breath. The excitement she held in her expression earlier disappears, revealing something more real, more vulnerable. “I’m actually kinda jealous of you, y’know.”

“Really? Why?”

She sighs. “I never got to experience any of that for myself—clubs, dances, crushes… all of it. Once I became a trainee, every single day was dedicated to training, with barely any time for fun or enjoyment or a social life. Some days, we’d barely even have time to eat or sleep.”

You always saw Gaeul as this bright ball of energy, even when she was on your screen as IVE’s Gaeul. To see her like this is something else entirely.

“When things were the hardest, I’d think about you,” she says, a melancholic grin growing on her lips. “I’d think about all the fun adventures we had and imagine all the new adventures we could’ve had. I wondered what you were doing, if you were even thinking about me…”

Every single day.

“I’d pray that when I wake up the next morning, I would be back in my old bedroom and you would be waiting outside my door like you always did, and then we’d run off to the forest and do whatever we wanted. No expectations, no late nights, just pure freedom.”

The urge to comfort her makes your heart ache. You want to hold her in your arms and tell her what you really feel. Tell her that the day she left was the day that your entire world came crashing down. Tell her to take your hand and run away with you, live the life that you’ve been dreaming of since you were kids. Tell her how much she means to you and that you never want to be away from her again.

But you don’t. You bite your tongue, suppressing all the feelings threatening to bubble up. She worked hard to get where she is, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into the dream she’s been talking about since the two of you were kids. You’re not going to ruin that for her just for your own selfish reasons.

“On the bright side, look where you are now!” you say in an attempt to cheer her up. “World famous Kpop star, loved by billions all over the world. A-and I turned out okay too, so, y’know… Everything is good.” Despite your attempt to sound cheerful, the weight of your true feelings seeps into your words. The carriage fills with a heavy tension that hangs in the air.

“Yeah,” she mutters, her gaze falling to the darkening scenery outside. “Everything is just… great.”

______________________________________________________________

“ALRIGHT PEOPLE, LAST SCENE OF THE DAY! AFTER THE TEST RUN, WE ONLY HAVE ONE CHANCE, SO LET’S MAKE IT COUNT!” Mr. Park yells, his voice the epicenter of all the commotion.

After a couple more hours of rides and other attractions, it was time to finish filming the final part of the episode, the fireworks show. For the most part, the last couple hours of filming went smoothly, aside from the fact that Gaeul wouldn’t talk to you when the cameras weren’t rolling. The shift from her idol persona back to her regular self was eerie enough already, but seeing all that faux joy disappear the second Mr. Park yelled “cut” filled you with an all-new kind of dread. Is this it? Are you just going to finish filming and leave things like this, without knowing if you’ll ever get the chance to see her again?

You spot her in the distance, getting her makeup touched up by her makeup artist. The sea of frantic staff members never seems to end, but you push through anyway, determined to patch things up before the night ends.

“Gaeul!” you call out to her. “Can we ta—”

Her brick wall of a bodyguard stops you in your tracks with a firm grip on your shoulder.

“Ms. Gaeul would like to be left alone.”

“I just need to—Ah!” His grip tightens on your shoulder until you feel like it’s about to be ripped from its socket.

“I said, she wants to be left alone.”

You huff in frustration. “Look man, my best friend in the whole entire world is upset with me right now and I need to fix this, so would you please cut me some slack and let me talk to her for five fucking minutes!?” Despite the pain in your shoulder becoming borderline unbearable, you muster up the most threatening look you can. Thankfully, his grip on you loosens and your arm somehow doesn’t pop off from your body. Did he actually get scared by the look you gave him?

“It’s okay, Mr. Kim,” Gaeul says, walking out from behind him. Go figure. “I got it.”

Her bodyguard backs off, giving the two of you some space to talk. “Thanks, I was worried Mr. Park would have to CGI me a new arm,” you joke, trying to ease the tension. Gaeul’s lips curl slightly into a grin as she shakes her head at your dumb joke. It’s not much, but it’s progress. “Can we talk—”

“Follow me.” She walks off without another word, away from the filming location. Not wanting to get on her bad side again, you follow her in silence.

Gaeul leads you through the bustling crowds, down a narrow, unlit pathway tucked between two food stalls. The sounds of the park grow fainter with each step until all you can hear is your own breathing and the echo of your footsteps. As long as you’re able to clear the air with her, it doesn’t matter where she takes you. You’d gladly walk all the way to the ends of the Earth if it means you won’t part on bad terms.

Finally, Gaeul stops at a small, secluded lookout point. A sturdy railing, its paint chipped from years of wear and tear, stretches across the edge of the platform, offering a view of the whole amusement park below.

“Back when we were trainees, the company let us visit this exact amusement park as a reward for doing well on a monthly evaluation,” Gaeul explains, leaning against the railing. “We ended up finding this quiet little area. It gives the best view of the fireworks show.”

You take your spot next to her and look out at the park below. Multicolored lights dance freely in the night sky to the unpredictable tune of the park goers’ joyous screams. You can’t help but grin at the thought of a younger Gaeul being able to relive a piece of her childhood that she missed out on.

“It must have been a lot of fun,” you say.

“I wouldn’t really know.”

“Hm? What do you mean?” 

A pensive escapes her lips into the open air. “I mean, it was fun, but… I just couldn’t stop looking for your face in every person we passed by.”

“Oh.”

“While the others were watching the fireworks, I was looking down at the crowd, hoping that I could see you again.”

“I-I, uh… I’m sorry, Gaeul—”

She lets out a hollow snicker, the sound barely carrying any amusement—just exhaustion. “What do you have to be sorry for? I should be the one apologizing. Back in the ferris wheel, when you said that ‘everything is good’, I just… I don’t know, I just broke down. Hearing you say that made me feel like you… forgot about me.”

“Hey,” you utter gently, placing your hand on her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been; you’re my best friend, Gaeul. I would never forget about you. Not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought about you.”

She turns to you, a cute pout on her lips and her eyes glistening with tears. “Really?”

“Of course, dummy,” you chuckle. “And it’s kinda hard to forget you when I see you literally everywhere.”

Gaeul rests her head on your shoulder, her chest rising and falling with gentle laughter. “I’m sorry for being an idiot and ignoring you all day, small fry.”

Tentatively, you wrap your arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. “It’s okay. I’m just glad I was able to talk to you before the day ended.” You feel her snuggle into your side, the warmth from her body a thousand times better than you could ever imagine it. The pounding of your heart echoes in your ears, screaming at you to say something.

You gulp in an attempt to quell your nerves. “A-actually, I’ve also, uh, been an idiot today. There’s something I need to tell you that I should’ve told you earlier.”

She shifts to look up at you, her eyes beaming like stars in the night sky. “What is it?”

“I-I, um… Gaeul, I—”

A ball of fire shoots upwards into the sky and bursts into a sparkling flurry of bright red. More follow soon after, whizzing past and painting the indigo sky with an array of colors. Gaeul excitedly climbs up the railing to get a better view, her expression filling up with a joy more genuine than any reaction she showed in front of the cameras. 

Your heart aches as you look up at her—you love her. You love her so much that you want to scream it from the top of your lungs until your voice grows hoarse. Today could be the last time you ever see her. You need to tell her. Forget about all the consequences and just say it.

Gaeul turns to look down at you, a smirk playing on her lips. “This angle seems a bit familiar, don’t you think?” she teases, ruffling your hair. The chilly night air enters your lungs. Every color of the rainbow reflects against her perfect skin. All caution is thrown to the wind.

You push yourself onto your tippy toes and press your lips against hers.

The kiss couldn’t have been more than a second, just a mere peck, but the feeling still lingers on your lips like electricity. A long moment passes with nothing but the crackling of fireworks filling the space between you. The overwhelming heat against your cheeks makes it nearly impossible to make out her reaction. Is she disgusted? Upset? Angry?

Yet, all of your worries melt away as Gaeul falls into your arms, capturing your lips in hers once again. Years of pining and waiting, watching her fancams until the ungodly hours of the night, showing support for her in any way you can without ever knowing if she’ll notice your efforts, all of it culminates into that sweet, tender kiss. Tomorrow brings a plethora of unknown challenges, but all that matters is right now, in each other’s arms where you’ve been dying to be.

You break the kiss for a moment, a truth you’ve been waiting to release resting on your tongue. “Gaeul, I love you—”

“I know,” she interrupts, her voice light and airy. “I love you too, small fry. So, so, so much.”

Your lips break into a smile so wide your cheeks start to ache. “Not that I’m complaining, but how did you know—”

“Autumn? Really?” she teases, her hands cupping your cheek. “You might as well have confessed to me in that ferris wheel.”

You sink your face into her touch, treasuring every second of warmth. “I wish I did. Maybe then we would’ve had more time to be like this before we have to say goodbye.”

“I’m never, ever leaving your side again, you hear me? The company will just have to deal with it.”

You let yourself get lost in her lips once again, with no intention of ever finding your way back. The road ahead will no doubt be filled with hardships and uncertainties, but there’s no one else you would rather start this adventure with than the girl that made your world a little less lonely. 

[this-too-shall-bleed]

still Losing my mind over Harlan playing my game on his birthday spooky stream yesterday not once but TWICE….so here’s a compilation of some behind the scenes and concept art I had for my Malevolent inspired game, D.S al Fine for those that were interested:

yapping alert because this project is my child

First, for the audio enjoyers, I found some old unedited versions of my improv sessions on the piano! with these I cut into and created the ambience for the game as well as the ending track.

some Faroe sadness that didn't make it in fully (also the beginning sounds incredibly like Kayne's motif from wager is that just me???):

this was my first concept art I think! I was insanely hyper when I got the idea to conceptualize a malevolent game, it was like 3am, and I knew at its basis I wanted it to explore what happens right before the show originally starts because I was still a relatively new fan at the time and the ambiguity was incredibly interesting to me

originally I had the plan to make an animation of that, the fingers going into the eye sockets, but unfortunately to execute it im not skilled of an animator yet for the time I had…

early (June 2024) version of the office

yes the office took basically my entire 2024 summer break from college (may-august) because I simply could not stop adding details

along with the king in yellow I actually modeled the piano myself too :) hell of a learning curve

the way I felt my spirit ascend to another plane when I realized Lester pianos exist by the way

a glimpse into my insane note taking/concept method

of course I've been an artist first my whole life so I'm very visuals/atmosphere first, mechanics and motives later kind of game designer

ominous wip of arthur's piano room

kiy concept art. when in doubt take a screenshot of your game and draw over it if you need to 3D model for the first time!

this was concept art too

last but not least:

and other drabbles (I reaaally didnt want to model a lamp alright)

[sw5w]

He's Very Odd Indeed

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:49:23

[ipilokko]

-| I Dislike Redheads |-

– Chapter 2 - The Tomorrow

  Mollie once again, was trying to get ready in limited time. She had left her phone plugged ever since she was done watching The Silence of The Lambs for the millionth time last night. She had eaten two and a half bags of chips and she could smell them on her hands even after nine hours of one of the best slumbers of her thirty-one year life and washing her hands three times. Even though she knew how unhealthy those things were, she didn't regret eating that many as she hadn't tasted them for over half a year. This was how it would go. She'd randomly crave for a snack one day and overdose it then she wouldn't even look at its package for months.

 She checked the battery just in case it would decide to betray her again. It was full. She plucked the metal socket out from the bottom of her phone. These things still were never to be trusted though; she had learned the hard way.

 She walked along the stranger but pleasant streets of the human part of the neighborhood. A few people were spending their morning gardening. She walked by them, passing through the cloud of flower scent.

 After a few minutes of walking and following signs, she made it to the subway. Unlike yesterday, there were actually people. She didn't make the same mistake as yesterday and spent that two stops in the metro this time.

  Roy opened his satchel and took out his keys. He pushed the cold metal into the keyhole, turned it to the right and pressed on the handle once he felt the pins had positioned correctly. 

 As soon as the door left the threshold, the smell of coffee welcomed him, telling him to go to the kitchen. He hoped he didn’t forget to close the lid of the coffee jar yesterday. He hung his satchel and coat before going in to check. The lid was where it was supposed to be; on the jar, yet he had forgotten to throw away the coffee filter he had used. 

 He picked it up before taking the coffee out of the filter and putting it in D'artagnan's pot. He didn’t like throwing things away and D'artagnan enjoyed having coffee in his pot, just like most of the other plants did. He went back to the kitchen to put the coffee filter in the paper recycle bin before he pulled up the curtains and switched on his system. 

 One of his customers had yet to pick up her freshly repaired Jadis JA200 MKll. It had been quite some time ever since he’d had the chance to listen to one. He knew, of course, if he started listening to it, he’d spend the whole morning trying to talk himself into turning it off to start working. Jadis sounded magnificent, but few were fortunate enough to lay their hands on it, which meant they rarely found their way to his desk. He wouldn’t hesitate to get one for himself if his budget could ever catch up.

 And this was another perk of running a second-hand hi-fi repair shop. As an audiophile, he had the daily privilege of choosing from a large stock that was kept fresh with his customers leaving their sound systems to his care for a period of time. Sometimes, in cases like this; cases like the Jadis JA200 MKll, testing was less of a purpose but more of an excuse to listen. 

 He went behind the wall of varied sound systems to channel his Wilson Sophia 3 to pick up the sound from the Jadis, Jadis from REF 6se preamplifier, it from Audio Research EAR 834-p phono amplifier, and it from his Technics sl-1210 turntable. After he’s done he went back to the open space, standing in front of the giant wall of records of all genres, most of them being jazz. Today was one of the rare cases that he was in the mood for smooth jazz. He picked up Bob James’ ‘’Double Vision’’ to insert it into his turntable. 

When the first track began he melted instantly. He loved being alive, he really did.

 And one bad thing about running a second-hand hi-fi shop was that he had to say goodbye to his favorite systems every now and then. Maybe not the Sophia 3, but the Jadis was there only for a short period of time. Even though he enjoyed listening from the eighty-five percent of all the modals he currently had to some degree, he really wanted to keep that Jadis. 

After taking time to listen past the beginning of the track, he went back to his workroom and checked the post it note on one of the many amplifiers that were patiently waiting for service. It read;

"Slight buzzing sound”

He stuck the post it note on his shirt, put his hands on either side of the case and slipped his fingers underneath for better grip. He lifted it with a small grunt, took it to the test room and placed it on the stack of assorted amplifiers. He paused the music and turned the volume down to avoid damaging the other equipment as he did the channeling. 

When he started listening, there was a faint buzz and the sound lacked clarity, although as much was already expected. It sounded dry, flat and lifeless, worsened the more he brought the volume up. He rested his hand on the chassis, his fingers picking up a slight vibration. 

The failing transformer, it was. He switched it off and waited for the hum to fade, then unplugged it to take it to his workroom for a proper look inside.

-

-

-

 Mollie was tired of the boring atmosphere of her workspace. She could barely stand still until it was lunch break. Her arms, her feet, her back, her neck, seriously, all of her body was screaming at her ears and pulling her hair for her to just move, walk around a bit. As soon as it appeared to be 1.40 she got up without wasting another second and made her way to the giant break room after grabbing her beef sandwich in hunger. There were seven giants and… and some number of humans in the room, filling the room with buzz. 

She cracked her back and neck, stretched her arms and feet. Luckily she had managed to warm up before her libs started attacking each other with their bags like karens fighting over who was using the cash register first– since they all had bought out the ⅓ of the whole grocery store. 

She took the elevator to one of the tables. A giant and a human were watching something from a phone that seemed to be more than triple of her height in length. Even when It was turned sideways, the shorter side was still over her head. 

‘’Heyy, what are you two watching?’’

‘’The Shining’. Danielle hasn’t seen it yet." The human replied, looking up at the giant. He was sitting on an eraser next to the giant girl’s hand, who was towering over both of the humans. After trying to pause the movie three times, the touch screen finally caught the human his hand .

‘’Well, what do you think so far?’’ She looked up at the woman whose name was Danielle, apparently.

‘’To be honest with you... I’ve seen better."

‘’Than ‘’The Shining?’’ Mollie chuckled.

‘Are you being sarcastic or for real?"

“You’ll never know.” 

 That looked fun, she wished she could have that three-wheeled bike. She’d crash somewhere as soon as she’d start riding it, though… 

She just stood there as the movie played, in silence if you don’t count the movie.

Okay… This was awkward. She decided to leave them alone and go outside. ‘’You guys enjoy the movie. I’ll go outside."

‘’Thank you, Toodles!’’ 

After a long walk, Mollie finally reached the door.

Even though she was craving for people interaction a minute ago, right now was one of the times when she was glad nobody was outside– other than some protesters which sounded to be a few streets away. She leaned against the wall and took out her beef sandwich. She stared into the sea for a little, then noticed the giant from like a day ago? He was on one of the benches under the marble gate-like thing whose columns were human subway stations. He was facing the sea, his back to Mollie. She couldn’t name what, but she had some good feelings about him… 

And instantly she decided to was crave for ‘people interaction’ once again. She decided to join him and walked the distance until she neared the bench. 

"The ocean is beautiful." She commented.

The giant took a second to process. "Yes, I..." He looked in the direction of the voice. "...Agree."

 Roy smiled kindly, leaning a little forward to see the human down on the ground. He was unable to see the details of her face, but the general shape of it and the sound of her voice belonged to the lady from yesterday. He didn’t have a clear reason but he was happy to see her again. 

The giant’s gentle but strong voice slightly rattled her bones even after traveling all that tens of feet between them. "Isn't it weird that just big holes full of water actually look like this?"

 She stepped into the elevator inside the column-station thingy and pressed the button for the highest balcony to be eye level. Looking up wasn’t her favorite thing to do.

“I… Suppose it is…” He put his fist on the space between his nose and his rounded chin, covering his thin lips. "Depends on how different your weird and my weird are.”

Being a person and having your own point of view was weird when you thought about it. Drawing and thinking was weird, and some bugs looked weird as well… 

"Well, I don't know about you but I love weird." she leaned her back against the oversized marble that sparkled almost like glitter as the sun shone on them. It reminded her of the snow, if it was a little cooler in shade. “Do we at least agree that it’s a good thing?”

 "Mostly, yes." the sides of his eyes creased slightly as he moved his fist a little to his cheek, thumb curving around his chin. “Life would be far less enjoyable if there weren’t any weird in it.”

“I can’t agree more.” She looked at the ocean for a short moment. “Now I’m curious about how an ocean flavored ice cream would taste like.”

“Personally, I am more curious about opal.” he smirked slightly. It was bizarre to look at his face here from afar. It looked big and close enough that she could touch it if she reached out, yet at the same time she could feel every inch of the seventy feet distance between them. She wondered how he could even hear her. 

“I don’t know why but I feel like opal would be bitter if it was a flavor.” She paused to think for a second.  What are your favorite ice cream flavors? I bet you like lemon or tangerine.”

“I do like lemon. But my favorites are walnut, honey-almond and salted caramel. And you?” 

“You want the truth? I'd eat anything except for yogurt.”

Both smiling, they sat in silence for a few moments until Mollie decided to break it. ‘’So… what do you do? I mean for living.”

"I repair hi-fi systems.”

"Yeah sure, I can pretend to know what those are."

He chuckled. "High end sound gear…” And a money pit– one he was happily stuck in. “They’re meant to allow you to hear the details regular systems miss.”

"Ehh, I’m happy with my average headphones." 

He shook his head slightly. “That, I cannot.”

She had never thought of switching, her headphones weren’t really expensive and they got the job done just fine. Though now she had to admit that she was curious about a ‘high end sound gear’.

‘’Oh well, Where do you work?" 

"I’d like to hear your guess."

She looked around for anything sound-oriented. the building across the street caught her eye. “Wave of Sound? That's close." 

"It is…” a small drop of salty water hit his face as a wave crashed. His hazel irises looked soft, the skin drooping over them made him look a bit tired, even if he wasn’t. “What about you?’’

“I’m a storyboard artist. I just started to work at that game company back there… The previous one was The Vivid Light though."

"The Vivid Light, you say?"

"You've heard of Them?" 

"My niece and I are quite fond of their films. His mother too."

"Seriously?” Mollie let out a short laugh. “It's so rare I meet someone who knows about them."

"We put on one of their films whenever he comes over. It's a tradition." He chuckled.

"That’s adorable, made me proud as well.” She grinned. “ How old is he?”

“He’ll turn six soon.” He chuckled, “I’ve been trying to keep up since three.”

she giggled and checked her watch. “...I should probably get back to work. I’m Mollie, before I forget to tell you."

"Pleasure meeting you, Mollie. I’m Roy." he gave her a warm smile.

"So you're not a Dave? I have to work on my name-guessing skills..."

“See you tomorrow?” She added.

"Certainly."

Beaming up at him, she took the elevator back to the ground. She waved and took a few steps towards her workplace. 

"Mollie."

She turned back around and walked until the column stopped blocking Roy’s face.

She rested her hands on her hips. ‘’Yeah?’’

‘’Have you ever experienced a high-end sound system?"

‘’Nope. I don't think I have.’’ 

he asked after taking a short moment. ‘’Would you like me to walk you to work?"

 ‘’Ahh thank you, that would be great!"

The giant nodded and slowly rose from his seat, his already tall stature extending to an even more impossible height.

‘’Whenever you like, you can come by." He kneeled and laid his hand flat on the ground for her to climb on. 

“We’ll see. I have to decide if I like you enough first.” She chuckled as a palm like a wider version of Dracula’s dinner table, and fingers like construction pipes neared her, only full of life. You could definitely fit two beds in the length of that hand. 

‘’Geez, you’ve got huge hands. How tall are you?’’ Mollie put her foot on the warm flesh and tested the squishiness, then brought her other foot as well, almost losing her balance in the process. She eyed the surreal curves of the ridges of his fingerprints and the barely visible stretch marks on the skin, with the bizarre feeling of feeling a different kind of heat beneath her feet. She could pick up a faint ironish smell from his fingers, though considering he was mingling with the iron or copper or whatever cables or all the electric stuff she didn’t know about was made of, it was understandable.

“Sixty-nine metres, fairly average, for someone like me.” he paused, “1.78 in magnameters, if you prefer it that way..”

“Almost there, I’m 1.76…  You can get up, by the way.”

He slowly lifted her as well as rising up himself. Even though he was being much gentler and steadier than Mrs. Smith had been, she could still feel a very slight jerkiness. Though this was probably just him being giant. She swayed with each step he took, almost like a gondola. How much she loved riding those things with her cousin when they were kids.

 She put her hand on one of his slightly curled fingers to balance herself as he began to lower her back on the ground. His palm was pretty much soft, but his fingertips seemed to be a little more hardened; the ridges of his fingerprints almost scratching her hand when she touched. She could relate to him a bit, having a small callus on her middle finger right where she would place her pencil.

When she couldn’t feel any more major movement, she stepped down from his hand, taking support from his thumb. “You just saved me ten minutes, thanks.” She smirked. “Don’t get your hopes up for another round of chatting, though. I’m probably late already.”

-

-

-

"Your favorite color? Your favorite food?’’ Mollie asked Roy as she stepped down from Roy’s hand for the second time today. Finally, it was home time. Almost… Maybe not so almost… From here to her hotel room was a long way to go. a whole hour of subway couldn’t be underestimated… Despite sitting all day she was so tired. All she wanted to do was to sleep, sleep and sleep. 

"I've always liked brown. Persimmon, too… And I love any kind of salad."

"My favorite color has to be dark blue. Prussian blue specifically. And dark red as well. I like literally anything from Italian cuisine.”

“What do you like the most about Italian cuisine?”

“I don’t know… pastry, I guess?” She expected him to ask questions like “What do you like to do? How do you spend a day?"

He chuckled innocently. “Not much, I’m a boring person.” 

"I… wake up, sometimes have a chat with my plants. I like to have a bit of jazz playing in the background while I work... Breakfast’s nice, too.”

“I like walking to work by the shore, especially under the sun or rain… I like to read, I like to watch films… I like…  laying down, feeling the sun on my face, Smelling flowers… Daily things, mostly. You?”

“I like... Drawing? I hate cooking. But sometimes I also like cooking because sometimes I like doing things I hate... I know it's weird but I just like it. I like watching movies as well, I also like doing things I definitely don't need or shouldn't be doing. Mine is kind of daily too, I guess. Whose isn’t, though.”

She made her way to the entrance of the column in a suppressed rush and smiled warmly.  

“Well, Roy… My tomorrow wasn’t so bad after all... See you later.”

“Goodbye.” He smiled, watching her go inside.

He got up, taking support from his knee. There weren’t many humans that he knew the faces of– other than a few close friends. And he wouldn’t be upset if Mollie became one of the minority.

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previous // next // first // Index

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Yeah... sure, why not. I struggled a lot writing this one, as I'm not the best at my word choice in english (esp on dialogues)... I've edited this one myself!

Fret not, though! The next chapter will be much better, I promise! We're getting closer and closer to the better parts!

I can't express how excited I am for them! I keep geting butterflies when thinking lol.

I didn't want to wait until I finished the illustrations because they still have some way to go.

also my exam week starts tomorrow please wish me luck...

[cipheramnesia]

Graft

In my rest time between one novel and the next I'm enjoying myself making a little spun sugar story about a cyberpunk pussy heist. It's meandering and heavy on imaginary slang but it's fun for me so here is the first half or third or so of it

First thing DeeDee noticed, her usual morning orgasm, or "morgasm," hadn't gone off.

She was late, and splashers crowded her A/V specs, screaming flashing neon yellow red blue promises, 10 water rat guaranteed each spin, stop here twenty percent off premium-vu, act now to get free oxy-sub, plus about fifteen past due blasters for her leg mods, dayclix, manudex upgrade, face plate, other parts. She could see a narrow sliver of her room through the MAds, and she had a scrips balance lockout from the cockout. Groaning with irritation, clawed her way off the cot to the 12-key hardline, unfolded her tongue socket and jammed the bcomp line in, clattering the set in frustration.

Half the blasters, most of the splashers dipped. She got back audio and waist downs and rolled. "Whoooo turned my hot shots off? Who left the wallEMP off!" Micro drones winged around the room popping ad spray and sonics, a few were clamped on her with other past due notes. "Water ration overdue, water ration exceeded" circled her biomech cat ears. Swatted a two or three, fell on the wall switch to jam on the Flyswatter. DeeDee figured a couple hundred overall went pop, trailed smoke down. Ad dust everywhere from the spray. One was on her face?

"I'm not best pleased!" she said to no one, expressing her displeasure. Swept dust and drone crumbs with her feet to space clear in her studio apartment slash office slash workspace slash bedroom slash kitchen, and crashed on the deskchair, slapping dpatches along her limbs and a compstik into her faceboard. "No hotshot no swatter, noncon facejacked?" She untangled her hair from the ecb-plugs on her face tech and grabbed her digiplate because she was slumming it, pouted while the scrips and drips that got dug into her software and hardware ate the big edit to the sky.

While she was waiting around for the MAds and spamware scan [MAdaSS], she finally got to look over the C-Clamp chastity boot locked to her pelvic slot with optional NoPro (tm) insert for prostate denial. "What's this horseshit, who did I fuck last night?" DeeDee did not know what horses were, she imagined they were a kind of bird. Pinged out for her custom built EX neurosynth neovag and got fuckall, which pissed her because the whole point was fuck all.

One by one her debuggers chirped, hopped onto her palm, drawered em, and slapped her basic as fuck face of the day on. Blessed she was with pristine sight of the world, not a nagnote or payscram in sight, just vext message notes, siggies, and a small alarm bell. "Shit, better get to work!"

Shoved cargo shorts over her cock locked personal pleasure slot, work boots, tanktop ("Asparagus for President" it said, from the infamous three way sudden death vote-off of '76), and jammed her comxcon into a free arm port before she flipped the sign to open at her door. "Gosh that was close, any customers?" She looked, a khakicollar dude held up a laptop plaintive, "My browser won't-" DeeDee slammed the door, "No customers! Another perfect day, hang up." Vext notes blinked aside for serious business now. She threw her shorts off. "Time to get outta this contraptamajig."

One angle grinder, one band saw blow torch, three axes, twelve hammers, and eighteen screwdrivers later DeeDee fucked her way through one after the other, even tried to plink the code. All this pouding and plethora of penetrarive pelvic parts frustrated her to rolling her bedsheets into her crotch and grinding on the best metal chastity could buy. She drooled all over her aching synthezized nerve spots, "fuck me I can't even cum, what's wrong with the world these days?"

Vexts, vexts, she clicked the note up it said: ANSWER YOUR CALLS and >:( >:( >:( >:(

The incoming piddy was the UNKNOWN ID scrap, she dropped a spam cage on it and replied 8===D~~~ GFYS and binned it mid-[... is typing]

Fuck fuckity fuck work, DeeDee needed some downtown deep sea diving. She climbed out the window, being more reliable than stairs or elevator. Nothing worked in the damn building except gravity.

Short and sweet broke beat sidewalk street, she hit so many concrete cracks, DeeDee figured the local maternity wards had to be a massacre. A couple dozen micros blasted ad spray and sonics, she flipped a bug zapper and swept em. Ads were going old school, nanoswarms warred over wallspace in constant barage of microsensors, hurling rainbow swirls that paced over the odd window and traffic signal promising six months free tubespace per dayclix.

ANSWER YOUR CALLS RIGHT NOW 😡😡😡😡

"Oh fancy fucks spending on the megs per pixel now?" DeeDee spamcanned again (GFYS) and freeloaded on a driverless with a buncha other local goons. "Hey ratbot, you headin to the VFW too?"

"It's a coffee barrr, Draftie," he replied. DeeDee called him ratbot because he was a planned obsolescence warbot with artificial intelligence generated by a rat brain daisy chain, real preschooler level tech these days but cheap and easy at the time and twice as disposable as a human soldier. "And for the last time my name is Wendell. Wendell Crawford."

She still didn't know why he had a Boston accent, the whole city had been totalled in the second Great Mega Pileup Traffic Jam six years before the manufacturer date on his tread guards. He called her Draftie because her legal name was Draft Dodger due to a mistake in one of her prison ID cards. "C'mon, it's Morca's."

"Ignore her, babe," Bobby, ratbot's partner, tugged him a fraction of an inch away on the driverless rooftop. Legally speaking Bobby was Wendell's owner because the corporate manufacture-state that made him refused to recognize his personhood. Morca's owner, SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE, had been helping with their legal battle, but they hadn't made much progress. Total bullshit, DeeDee thought but last big corplex suit against SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE made em keep her in life support parts forever, cleared out all mines from international waters, and her entire species were considered a recognized nation encompassing all oceans on Earth. Did great things for the environment, terrible for the war business.

They hopped at the block, batted some more ad spray and DeeDee knocked some local splashers with the hotshot, enjoyed watching ratbot snap micros in half with his plastic fingers, inhuman accuracy, "Still got it babe," said Bobby, hugging his blocky arms.

They pushed through the big, rocketproofed front doors under a blinking neon "Morcha Latte" sign, inside was all plastic and vulcanized rubber with DV light and fake windows to make the warehouse sized bunker building feel cozy. SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE claimed it was stress tested up to three directs from sunburst corebuster and who was going to argue with a two storey cyborg?

The overheads churned out the latest scrape40, whatever they were listening to at the bottom of the ocean, today DeeDee thought it sounded like angry plinko machines fighting while she caught lyrics she understood in bits and pieces, "Strangle me, strangle all my life, drag us through the silt and kill in the light," or something like that. She was a regular at Morca's because she got SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE all her jailbroken subscription free parts - sourcing and scouring unclocked mods and squids was her gig anyway. She dumped her ass into a rickety old carbon fiber woven chair between the door and the juke wall. A bunch of hipsters had early adopted save to disc memory uploads but went with vinyl to capture the true soul, now they spent all day slotted into the giant juke machine with impulse fed nerve endings bathed in chemically sterilized vats of coffee.

DeeDee unzipped her shorts and capped the chastity blocker. ARE U SEEING THIS? vexted to Portland. They knew all the high mods, probably could crack her case, she thought, right before let's just say a jolt, a singing high note, transported her from crotch to sternum then dropped her cold. Half a sec from climax, she looked around the room her digiplate all 0_0 not finding a shred of note, til the second song struck her off her seat and got her writhing on the rubber. Customers at the other tables lifted cups and rekeyed their MAdaSSes to tune her out.

"Hot pants!" she yelled, "Liar pants, falsehoods and flame!" Real old gen VR heads turned in annoyance as she pirouetted through tables and rattled silverware clung to the espresso countertop. Her legs kicked about in frustration as she got edged up and dropped. "H-hey Velllma, mind if I borrow the steamer a hot sec?"

"Sure DeeDee, you know you only gotta ask hun. Want-want s-some sug- Sorry, still got that old tick." Velma was a self-operated point of sale holodrone who DeeDee had jacked, glassed, and juiced to someone more independent for handling orders at Morca's, and she'd done a recent SRS download to her visual interface.

"You're the best Vel." Few seconds later DeeDee steamed her crotch full blast trying to bust herself free or bust herself off.

ANSWER YOUR CALLS NOW OR YOU'LL NEVER CUM AGAIN, BITCH

She slipped off the espresso machine and answered from the floor with her feet still resting against the countertop. "Who are you, and what was the safe word? Last night's a blur."

"No safeword. We have your cunt. Meet at the bench, corner of Morgan Stanley Park Avenue and Kern Holding Street. Alone, one hour."

It was one thing to jailbreak, but DeeDee knew her limits and line trace was one so she snagged and bagged the pins and held a little inside sacrifice to Portland, the premier polymath polycule who surgically interconnected their brains inside a single body to share one another for life. One bit of Portland code gold and she'd be swimming in pussy. "You're on the floor, DeeDee," reminded Velma.

"This is my thinking space, hush up while I ponder the infinite." She could a couple a SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE's legs pacing, shaking the floor, could catch a word back in the beyond warehouse room where a couple cracked up Kilowais were chattering out notation and legal docstacks for Flathead Ford. The Kilowais, KBW trademarked AI, were way old corpsec, patented and trademarked download of a heavy hitter bandsaw from his day, couldn't be pirated off the base personality unless they morally agreed to void their warranty, lots in the circ. Ford was SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE's lawyer, fighting the landslide for ratbot on the orca's tab.

PORTLAND WILL SEE YOU NOW, DeeDee flixed over from the viz to the vurt. "Are you still thinking dear?" Velma asked, pointedly moving her legs to start espresso dripping, DeeDee assumed the obvious silently as penance. "How's it hanging y'all, got any hot new brains to hook into the juice party?" Loaded upside down in the polygon pleather chair, Portland ran clix and adspace in a tasteful wall scroll, kind of an art to the exploit, less brute force than DeeDee's prefs, the smooth outer chassis for Portland said "I'm punching out in a minute."

They were an individualized amalgamation of three physical brains psychosurgically visected into one another, enabled to a custom body and lifetime committed to singulamory. "I'm cock locked out, Port, listen," DeeDee shoved two fingers to her mouth and slathered her togue along them for a sensiosync to the cursed crotch clamp. Portland's digits ghosted through the stats, pulled em and vexted. "What's the damage, how much and how soon?"

"Custom work, charming darling." Portland leaned their trilateral symmetric body back, waved away the middle and spread up DeeDee's alt, nerves and all. "Fused the long way up your spinal cord. Biolocked, meat stuff. Not our forte, darling, and you couldn't afford it if it was." Portland sighed, overcome with vaporous boredom. "Even if we knew the lockout, custom viropicks run more than your last ten years income, pussycat."

"Fuck my life, stay outta my taxes, gimme something at least." DeeDee yanked her slobbered fingers out.

"It's good work, better than you're ever worth, and I'd know - I sourced half your body."

"One third but whatever."

"The good news is, you'll probably not get spinal meningitis from the lockout, just don't leave it too long." DeeDee punched out and heaved a floor heavy sigh. "Guess I really better go make that meet, or I could desperately call everyone I know and owe." After desperately calling everyone she knew, DeeDee said, >:( to the ceiling, "I guess I'm going to the meet with these mysterious pussy theives. I spent good money on that cunt too!"

"How's that search going," Velma stood between DeeDee's legs and frothed artificially thickened protein strings for someone's café au lait.

"Velma... Velma, have I been karmically centered would you say? Have the scales of justice been tipped cruelly against me, the most innocent of girls? Would you walk on me for twenty bucks?"

So Velma kicked off her shoes but not even getting used as a doormat got her off the edge, then SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE looked through her office door.

"Velma, put your shoes on, DeeDee leave your shirt off and pay Velma another twenty." The average AlTrek 4X Infrantry Multiplier AC was rusting out in uninhabitable desert to the beat of radioactive decay, major outliers were in use for specialized valet parking and the life support framework for SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE, approximately 1/3 of an orca left over from an underwater mine in a corpwar trading route blow up.

No one argues with two tons of whale who already won a fight with the government and the major corptrade conglomerate general council strapped inside another 12 odd tons of mechanized power, DeeDee tucked her shirt behind her head and hoped someone around here appreciated her tits. >:0 "These are pristine, you jackoffs, classic CW models, OEM to spec!" She shoved them in the direction of the tables, no one looked.

"Dee." Flathead beckoned, DeeDee called to the beck and slashed backwards on a metal chair. "You're keyed up to vandal, girl. Listen, need a filter swap for my client. Upgrade the whole box if you can scratch it up, figure me?"

"Square it with me, Ford, my tits still hot?" (*´_`) She leaned way in, specced the side-eye from SCREE Chirt-Chirt ascending EEE through the tanktint windows, right figure whales are mammals too.

Flathead's oily eyes under that heavybrowed custom lawframe job in his skull slid along DeeDee, back to her digital pleading @_@ and shrugged. "You know I don't do organic."

"Fuck! I'm-" She pulled her shirt down. "I'm late, I'll hustle up a nextgen, usual rate."

"Sure sure. Clean it, client says this one makes everything taste like hot dogs."

"How's she know what a hot dog tastes like even where'd she get..." DeeDee vocalled on the downlow out the side office door, left ratbot and Bobby hankin paperwork in whatever new angle Ford was playing at. Color searing eyes blasted the world round her with sound again. Splasher and flasher swarmed the Mocra doors hungrily.

DeeDee swiped onto a delivery drone blowing down the sidewalk, vanished in a cloud of disintegrating adspray and splasher dust. Clix and spinners streaked her A/V edge while she fingerbanged the tamperfree(tm) deep into the loving waiting GPS and flushed it. Kern Holding halved the ad sprays, stuck her on a halfsec blind wait to cycle over the MAdaSS.

Didn't look half priced up over the viz, real park space and algea tanks, plastic green, trueviz rooftop boards and splashers all reigned in. Not many places scratched up enough to pay for gray but Kern and Morgan Stanely did. "Fuck where's this guy." Hustle and crowd pressed close round the bench powerbricks, all these droners worked virtual right on the walkway.

Coats slid up too personal in a curl, this guy has legs on legs and teeth like insect legs, curling open near DeeDee's whimsical cat-ear mods. "Let's private" it skittered those fine metal teeth to her mask glass, and made her go all >.<; with each word. "Whatever." She wrapped digits round multisegment hands and clasped private-public lines, perfect prophylactic for keeping conversing on the hush-hush without a fatal social disease.

"Why the cold brush, kittykat, doncha trust much," it thrummed in silk smooth inside sounds around the wire.

"Don't test my taps, snatcherino," she dropped an icicle hiss down the line. Hand in hand and out for a stroll through the walking workdead and high class bluemaroon adspray of the other side.

"Fair enough kitty, coulda had more playtime." It was wrapped up head to toe other than the segments in her hand and legs slipped in between bandages on its head. "Giving you a hot tip, fresh filter refurb, ex-corp sub and modded for ox, great deal for you. Free and install formatted."

"Real bargain bin I spec."

"No clones, no rebadge. I'll drop the pickup, all you do is courier like a good girl. No messing, no poking the drivers and wares, from your hands to the orca, and forget we talked. That's all." A ripple of excitement went through the walking workdead, furiously chattering through corp trades.

"Figure that filter's plenty safe. Figure that's why all the cloak n bullshit pussy snatching. Pure charity, no?"

"Trust, nothing's on your hands after this and you go back to nightly custom fingerbangs." Twenty insect legs curled around the cuff of its coat and withdrew.

"Might run this up a few contacts first."

"Might drop your filthy cunt in sulfuric acid if you do, clear enough."

"Distilled, fine, hit me with the deets."

Deet dusted, connect busted, DeeDee blew bowed kisses with fuck off finger flourishes while she walk backwards up an exec driverless, scuffing up the ten cent gloss on a two cent primer dip. Rolled with the high rollers through the Red Riser strip. She cut through the Whipping Whirlpool, high stakes operator she cut some autonomics for - head/body gamblers all got off on taking a chance on having their bodies wired in to fuck off enough debt to reattach their heads, double or nothing down to win a brand new model. Not a sale or soul DeeDee made, her personal opinion but no judgment. Slipped out the back door after a little slap and tickle pass through.

The back alley cut between WW and topline exec condoslugs, custom body stim tubes for a full home holistic virtual life, and the whole alley was packed with nimbyronment sentiels. Rained here so no one else got wet, wastecycle rats and sewer filters crowded up and down the black wet brick. DeeDee stepped live around the hyperaggro antipestation roachhives then out to the big blaze - adcolor burst wide round her as she hit the main road looking for drones and anthills.

No broker worth a salt shake missed out on bread crumbs and sugar crystals, and DeeDee doled em from her cargo pants pocket. Can't do acquisitions and void warranties without a big juiced net, a dropin with Guts was neg, hadda go pre-analog here full on prehistoric. Dime blaster swarmed each scrap, cheap motion sensitive, to small for spray. Rats bright and ready for fission snagged, but the bait made do and the march of Colony made its unerring path a bead of tiny black dots to DeeDee.

"Sweet sWeet sweEt bread Gluten carbo yeaSt verY Good sweet swEet yes." Couple hundred ants jeweled DeeDee's ears pretty as you please and twice as small. Colony sees all, knows all, lives everywhere, that singularly focused consciousness inside immeasurable ants. It all farmed belowground, and DeeDee got in the know when her mini-fridge busted.

No dropin, no line out, no unlink or download - just neko a horminga and her lips to Colony's ears.

[byhees]

phone reminders.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 700 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read — more

a/n. scheduled!

heeseung

would, most definitely, have a picture of you as his lockscreen. he’s so incredibly whipped for you, to the point where he’d switch the photograph for a new one every two days or so, finding all your pictures equally as pretty.

would deliberately leave his phone on tables, such that the screen’s facing the viewer; whenever his device dings with a notification, he’d be reminded of you the moment the screen lights up, heart swelling at the recollection of the photograph’s origin.

jongseong

would have multiple music playlists dedicated to you. there’d be one for nearly every passing occasion; when you’re feeling a little down and under the weather, the feeling of butterflies soaring in his stomach whenever he hears your laughs, the warmth and comfort of being in your embrace.

would regularly text you the link of said playlists, a cute message attached at the bottom; “hope this makes your day, love!” written, a keyboard heart typed beside it.

jaeyun

would have a note centred around all the little details about you— things you fancy, things you don’t quite fancy. he jots them down for future gifts and presents, especially for special dates such as your anniversary— which he’s noted in his calendars app, the date nicely filled up with keyboard smashes and little kaomojis.

would probably note down future date spots, such as cafes, museums, vice versa; watches a ton of ‘place review’ videos, and writes down ones that catch his eye; will store this note nicely in his notepad app, not wanting to ruin the surprise element for you.

sunghoon

would have a widget slideshow with your couple pictures; keeps it nicely in his homescreen. would briefly scroll through the images at least twice a day, relishing the moments. would use a very inconspicuous picture as the front cover, not wanting you to tease him for the lovesick gesture.

would tuck his phone in his pocket, ready to whip it out for endless photo bursts; would brush off the very serious photo-taking stance as scenery admiring— definitely smiles a tad too hard at his phone when looking back at the photos, finding the blurred depiction of your little curious expression, cute.

seonwoo

would have a huge photo album dedicated to you. he’d be so neat about it too, arranging your pictures nicely according to the date; would have a few favourites amongst the many, often revisiting those few whenever he misses you a ton.

would have a bunch of low quality pictures as well; when he’s out-and-about, spending time with you, photographs may not be of the best quality, given his pure excitement. would have a random picture with a smidgin of your face peeking into frame— would still keep it nice and snug in his little album.

jungwon

would have matching phone accessories; pop-sockets of cartoon characters, phone charms of your favourite colours, small animal stickers pasted messily over your phone cases. would make it a point to purchase two stickers every date-day, sticking them onto your respective cases by the end of the day.

would probably fiddle with the small accessories, hands absentmindedly extending and closing the pop-socket on the back of his phone, fingers subconsciously twirling the dangling bead chain; would flip his phone to the back, eyes softly scanning the random assortment of stickers, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

riki

would have a bunch of audio recordings saved in his phone; has recordings that are ten seconds or less— they’re mostly just of you reenacting short clips of cartoons and animations, as per his very insistent requests; he likes replaying them whenever he misses you, your voice soothing his heart instantly— a bonus when there’s a little giggle hidden amidst the voice-acting.

would suggest using voice chats to message; whenever he hears you speak, his heart flutters a little— it might even skip a beat. hearing your raw voice, and your pure laughter, heals him so much; he’d shamelessly retrace every conversation during his pastime, pressing on every one of your voice messages.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @crxzs @alyszaen @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[ang3lwritez]

Teddy Bear 🧸| fyozai

Tw|| Yandere Fyodor! Stalking and MENTIONED murder + kidnapping but it's very very brief

Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Aka: A total fucking nobody

Shooting his shot with the Osamu Dazai.

Mister " Everyone Has A Crush On Me And I'm Basically Perfect. "

Yeah. No way in hell that was working out.

Fyodor may be in love, but he's not stupid!

So instead of asking him out and being humiliated, a kinda one sided friendship and hardcore stalking was only the most logical of conclusions.

I mean who doesn't know their crushes' full name, date of birth, address, familial connections, friends, class schedule, hangout spots and favourite well…everything!!?? I mean do you really even love them if you don't know that much?

But Fyodor, ever the overachiever, wanted more. Just seeing him from his walks to school and back wasn't enough. Plus, stalking Dazai’s social media stories and the outside of his yard was getting… mundane to say the least. He was bored, desvestated, in a dizziness of lovestrucken sorrow! How he wished to even be in his beloved Osamu's bubble for more than a brief passby! He was the only person on this planet who was on his level, intelligent enough to understand him, charming enough to captivate him. He couldn't let someone like that be unmonitored! 

All this and more flooded the raven haired boy's head as he smiled at the plush store cashier who ringed up a small brown bear. Brown, like

Osamu’s hair.. and eyes… and those small scars on his wrists..

Fyodor sighed softly to himself, what a charming hopeless romantic he truly was!

“Just like the girls in all those American movies.” he thought as he took the plush bear onto his desk at home and grabbed scissors.

“Just like the girls in shojo manga.” 

He thought as he cut the bear's head open, poking one eye out with a sewing needle.

“Just like the girls in stage plays!” He smiled to himself, placing the mini camera he got from the department store between the plushies fluffy stuffing 

“Just like the girls in audio dramas!” He sighed dreamily as he sewed the head of the plushie back on, the camera lens just barely peeking through the bear's now torn eye socket.

Perfect. Truly romantic. He shocked himself sometimes with just how gentlemanly he is!!

The next morning, Fyodor almost floated into his homeroom class with glee. Though his face wouldn't ever show it. After all, he had an image to maintain!

So, the stuffed bear was ceremoniously placed on Dazai's desk. The brown haired boy looked up at Fyodor with a confused smile.

“Well good morning to you too, Dostoyevsky.”

He said holding back a snide laugh. “What's with the plushie? It's not Valentine's or White day.” Fyodor looked at him dead in the eyes.

“It was your birthday two weeks ago. This is your gift. Apologies if it was late.” He said flatly bowing his head before blankly staring at his beloved crush again.

“...ooooookaaaay then. Thanks. It's cute.” Dazai said awkwardly before stuffing the plushie in his school bag.

“Keep it in the light please.” Fyodor said.

“Why?”

“Would you like being thrown in a dark closet if you were a plushie?” 

“...I g-guess you have a point?” 

The two stared at each other silently before the bell rung in their ears. Fyodor gave Dazai one last nod before sitting at his desk. He raised his book to his face, as his cheeks flushed red. Oh the way his beloved Osamu looked at him, those brown eyes big and wide with adorable suprise and confusion! 

Oh what a chamer he was, it's such a surprise Osamu wasn't begging on his knees to be his boyfriend. Such a shame his beloved wished to play hard to get!!

No matter, at least he had a little piece of him keeping the brown haired boy company, Fyodor thought as he opened the app the teddybear camera was linked to on his phone. Sure enough, it worked like a charm. He could see the lower side of Dazai from the open zipper in his school bag. How cute he looked when he was focusing!

It's safe to say Fyodor didn't pay any attention in that class. Or the one after that. Or any of the other classes he shared with Dazai. No matter, it's not like he didn't know this stuff already. Perks of being the smart kid.

Fyodor had never rushed home so quick in his life. After making sure his beloved had a safe walk home (as per usual! Do any of Dazai's other love interests do that? He thinks NOT!!)

He dashed to his room, immediately turning on the app. And there he was, looking through the teddy bear Dazai so graciously placed on his bed the minute he got home! How sweet his beloved was, such a kind soul! Treating even a plush toy with such grace! Truly worthy of his affection.

And that's how his afternoons were spent.

Watching Dazai sleep, eat, study.. (and if he was lucky enough, change!) it truly was such a beautiful arrangement.

Such a shame Dazai became all too perceptive, finding the camera one fateful night when the batteries decided to go on the fritz. And now here Fyodor was, being interrogated by the one he loves most. Was this, perhaps, a perfect moment to confess?! Now that Dazai knew of his devotion!!!?? Oh how fate is so beautiful. Even when Dazai is yelling, calling him insane, he knows deep down he loves him back. How could he not!

Yet even then he gets met with a slap, and the title of creep when going in for an “I love you” and a kiss. Figures. Dazai had always been such a hard to get player.

But no matter, afterall Fyodor was smart, kind and patient. 

He just had to wait for Dazai to see that.

And if that means threatening others, hurting them, and even a bit violently dragging dazai to his basement 

Then he gladly would. If his beloved wished to be blind, he would wait an eternity for him to see.

Fyodor would always wait.

Thanks for reading!

This fic is also up on my ao3! > Netranetwork