#Joint Paint Hack

[flying-health]

Stiffness Be Gone! My Review of Joint Paint Hack

For years, I'd been battling a persistent ache in my knees. It started subtly – a twinge after climbing stairs, a groan after a long walk. But gradually, the pain worsened, impacting my daily activities. Simple tasks like squatting down to pick something up or kneeling in the garden became a struggle. I knew I had to find a solution, and that's when I stumbled upon Joint Paint Hack.

Relief After Years of Discomfort

Skeptical at first, I decided to give Joint Paint Hack a try. The product description resonated with me – it focused on natural ingredients known for their anti-inflammatory properties. Within a few weeks of taking the recommended dosage, I noticed a significant difference. The constant ache began to subside, replaced by a newfound sense of ease in my knee movements.

Improved Mobility and Flexibility

The most remarkable change I experienced was in my mobility. Activities that were once painful, like kneeling or bending down, became manageable again. I could walk for longer distances without feeling that familiar tightness creeping in. This newfound flexibility not only improved my daily life but also boosted my confidence. I felt more energetic and motivated to get active again.

Natural Ingredients, Noticeable Results

One of the things I truly appreciate about Joint Paint Hack is its focus on natural ingredients. After years of popping over-the-counter pain relievers, the idea of a natural solution appealed to me greatly. The supplement contains ingredients like glucosamine, chondroitin, and turmeric, all known for their joint-supporting properties.

Easy to Take and Integrate into Routine

The capsules are easy to swallow and haven't caused any side effects for me. The daily dosage fits seamlessly into my routine, and I haven't missed a single dose since I started.

Overall, a Lifesaver for My Aching Joints

Joint Paint Hack has been a game-changer for me. It's helped me manage my joint pain effectively and regain a sense of mobility I thought I'd lost. If you're struggling with joint discomfort, I highly recommend giving this product a try. It's a natural, convenient, and effective way to get back to living an active life, pain-free.

Disclaimer: It's important to consult with your doctor before starting any new supplement, especially if you have any underlying health conditions. My experience may not be the same for everyone, but I believe Joint Paint Hack is worth considering if you're looking for a natural approach to managing joint pain.

[new-health-products-in]

Joint Paint Hack - High Converting Joint Pain Offer

Stiff Joints No More! A Review of Joint Paint Hack

For years, I'd been struggling with stiff joints, particularly in my knees. It made even simple tasks like climbing the stairs or going for a walk a chore. I tried various over-the-counter pain relievers, but the relief was always temporary. That's when I came across Joint Paint Hack, and I'm so glad I did!

Relief Right Where It's Needed

Joint Paint Hack is a topical pain relief cream that's easy to apply and absorbs quickly. Within a few minutes of applying it to my knees, I could feel a noticeable difference. The stiffness began to subside, and movement became more fluid. I was genuinely impressed by how quickly it worked!

Long-Lasting Effects

But Joint Paint Hack isn't just about temporary relief. I found that the effects lasted for several hours, allowing me to go about my day without worrying about joint pain. This was a game-changer for me, as it enabled me to be more active and participate in activities I previously had to avoid.

All-Natural Ingredients

One of the things I appreciate most about Joint Paint Hack is its use of all-natural ingredients. I'm always wary of using harsh chemicals, especially on my skin. The fact that Joint Paint Hack relies on natural ingredients to deliver relief gives me peace of mind.

A Must-Have for Anyone with Joint Pain

If you're suffering from stiff or painful joints, I highly recommend giving Joint Paint Hack a try. It's a safe, effective, and long-lasting solution that has made a real difference in my life. Don't let joint pain hold you back any longer – try Joint Paint Hack and experience the freedom of movement for yourself!

[physical-products]

Stiffness No More: My Positive Experience with Joint Paint Hack

For years, I'd been battling a nagging joint pain, particularly in my knees. It started subtly – a slight ache after climbing the stairs or a twinge during a brisk walk. But over time, the discomfort intensified, significantly impacting my daily activities. Simple tasks like gardening or playing with my grandchildren became a struggle. I felt frustrated and limited.

Seeking Relief: A Frustrating Journey

I embarked on a quest to find relief. I explored various avenues: over-the-counter pain relievers, physiotherapy sessions, even heat therapy wraps. While some provided temporary solace, the pain inevitably returned. Consulting my doctor led to a diagnosis of osteoarthritis, a common condition causing joint degeneration. While medication was an option, I harbored concerns about long-term side effects.

Discovering Joint Paint Hack

During my online research for natural pain management solutions, I stumbled upon Joint Paint Hack. The product promised a unique blend of evidence-based supplements specifically designed to target joint health and reduce inflammation. The website resonated with me - it wasn't filled with exaggerated claims, but rather presented scientific backing for the chosen ingredients. Additionally, the positive customer testimonials instilled a sense of hope.

Taking Control: My Experience with Joint Paint Hack

Following the recommended dosage, I began incorporating Joint Paint Hack into my daily routine. Within a few weeks, I noticed a remarkable shift. The constant ache in my knees started to subside. I could climb the stairs without wincing, and my morning walks became pain-free. More importantly, I regained the confidence to engage in activities I once avoided.

Beyond Pain Relief: Improved Mobility and Well-being

The benefits of Joint Paint Hack extended beyond pain relief. My overall mobility improved significantly. I could bend down to pick things up without hesitation and even started gentle yoga stretches to maintain flexibility. This newfound freedom boosted my mood and energy levels. I felt a renewed sense of well-being, allowing me to fully participate in life again.

More Than Just a Supplement: A Supportive Community

Joint Paint Hack wasn't just about the product itself. The company also offered a wealth of informative resources on their website. Articles on joint health management, exercise routines for stronger joints, and healthy recipes all contributed to a holistic approach to pain management. Additionally, the customer service team was incredibly helpful, promptly addressing any queries I had.

A Product Worth Recommending

In conclusion, Joint Paint Hack has been a game-changer for me. It's a safe and effective solution that has helped me manage my joint pain and reclaim my active lifestyle. I highly recommend this product to anyone seeking natural support for joint health. Remember, individual experiences may vary, but for me, Joint Paint Hack has been a true lifesaver.

[health-is-wealth1985]

Finding Relief and Embracing Movement Again: My Experience with the Joint Health Program

For years, joint pain cast a shadow over my active lifestyle. Simple activities like gardening or taking the stairs became struggles. Seeking a comprehensive approach to support my joint health, I discovered the Joint Health Program, an online resource gaining traction online. The emphasis on education, natural strategies, and gentle movement exercises resonated with me.

A Wealth of Information and Personalized Support

The Joint Health Program appealed to me because it offered a comprehensive, self-paced program designed to empower individuals to take control of their joint health. The program consists of downloadable ebooks, video tutorials, and exercise guides, providing a wealth of information on joint anatomy, nutrition strategies, pain management techniques, and gentle movement exercises.

What truly impressed me was the personalized approach. The program offered quizzes to assess individual needs and tailored recommendations based on my specific concerns. This holistic approach resonated with me, as I felt the program was addressing my unique situation and not offering a one-size-fits-all solution.

The Joint Health Program website provided clear information on the program's content and its potential benefits. They also offered testimonials from users who had successfully managed their joint pain using the program. This transparency and the emphasis on a personalized approach instilled confidence in the program's effectiveness and its ability to empower me to take charge of my joint health journey.

Easy Access and Integration into My Life

The digital format of the Joint Health Program is a major advantage. The downloadable materials allowed me to access the program anytime, anywhere. I could watch the video tutorials at my own pace and follow the exercise guides in the comfort of my home. This flexibility allowed me to seamlessly integrate the program into my busy lifestyle.

The program wasn't overwhelming either. The content was divided into manageable sections, making it easy to learn and implement the recommendations step-by-step.

Gradual Improvement and a More Holistic Approach

Within a few weeks of using the Joint Health Program, I noticed a positive shift in my mindset. The program provided clear, actionable steps towards optimal joint health, empowering me to make informed choices about my diet, exercise routine, and pain management techniques.

I started incorporating gentle stretches and mobility exercises from the program into my daily routine and found my joints feeling looser and more flexible. This newfound awareness and proactive approach made a significant difference in how I viewed my joint health.

Perhaps the most rewarding benefit was a noticeable reduction in joint pain after a few months of consistently following the program's recommendations. This improvement in mobility allowed me to gradually increase my activity levels and embrace movement again, something I had missed dearly.

Sustainable Lifestyle Changes and Long-Term Management

The Joint Health Program offers a sustainable, long-term approach to joint health management. Unlike quick fixes or pain medications, the program focuses on building healthy habits and empowering individuals to make informed choices. This approach has become an integral part of my lifestyle, promoting better joint health, improved mobility, and a more empowered mindset.

Important Note: It's crucial to remember that everyone's health is unique. While my experience with the Joint Health Program has been positive, it's always advisable to consult with your doctor before starting any new program or exercise routine, especially if you have a pre-existing medical condition.

Maintaining a healthy lifestyle with a balanced diet, regular exercise, and managing weight remains crucial for optimal joint health. However, the Joint Health Program can be a valuable tool in your journey to empower yourself with knowledge, make informed choices, and take control of your joint health journey.

A Valuable Resource for Joint Health Empowerment

Overall, I've been very impressed with the Joint Health Program. The accessible format, the personalized approach, and the noticeable improvement in my joint health and mobility have made it a valuable resource in my journey towards a more active and pain-free future. If you're looking for an empowering and informative way to take control of your joint health, I highly recommend checking out the Joint Health Program. Remember, a healthy lifestyle is key, and this program can be a helpful companion on your path to long-term joint health management.pen_sparktunesharemore_vert

[lomlompurim]

What if instead of waking up in the mushroom body, sqq woke up in a doll.

Something something while lbh was away in the abyss, sqq without noticing offended a misterious (demonic-succubi-esque???) cultivator with a weird thing for making dolls. She had dolls all over her secret workshop that she very kindly let him into when she heard about the famous Xiu Ya sword being in the city.

What she wanted of him? Who knows, sqq couldn't bring himself to care. She probably wanted his money or try to steal his hair, the hair of those dolls seemed very much like real hair, although he had to admit the level of details on these dolls were amazing.

(she wanted to trick him into buying one of her cursed dolls and steal his life energy little by little, but got wifebeamed by widow sqq during their conversation about how talented she was to be able to make so many dolls, and without really understanding he rejected her with little to no emotion on his face)

So she cursed him, and since sqq didn't feel anything bad at the moment he thought it just didn't work and left, not sparing the curse a single thought after their encounter.

The rest of the story goes as usual, excep that after he self detonates his soul doesn't go into the mushroom body, instead it got directly into the shape of a doll in the workshop of this woman.

His first thought is thinking someone snitched the mushroom body bc wtf wasn't he supposed to wake up under the dirt??? Why this place smells slightly familiar? Like paint and humidity and floral perfumes?? and why everything looks fucking giganourmus?!?! A teapot should NOT look that big from his position....Oh no, did the mushroom body turned out as small as a squirrel? WhAT is happening?!

And then he looks at his arms and legs, and he has joints. White paper skin with joints in his wrists, elbows, torso, waist, knees, feet. And he panics, a lot.

The woman who cursed him starts monologuing about how she trapped him now, and you are mine, I made this doll specially for you master shen, this is my revenge for your insolence to leave me yada yada- Sqq stoped listening a while ago.

Somehow he manages to escape from this woman and now he is roaming around as the size of some apples. Everything is huge. Everything is dangerous, even the grasshopers! And this body is fragile! He can't feel heat nor cold, neither hunger or other things, but he is useless with no spiritual veins inside, and if someone is not looking carefully, they might crush him. And the way back to cq is gonna be a hell of a trip! But he needs airplane to fix this. He can't stay as a doll forever! He needs a mushroom body and then fly into the sunset far from this mess! Adiós! Goodbye! So his new plan is to infiltrate into cang qiong, look for that rat and disappear. Sneaking into some disciple's pouch must be enough to break in.

Something something it only had passed a few months since lbh stole sqq's body and everything is still very fresh. CQ mountain is a hot mess. Sqh frankly needs to lay down and take a nap. Lqg keeps figthing with Lbh practially every day and coming back beaten bloody, he has his king pestering him and a lot of paperwork to do, Lbh is a pain in the ass, Yqy is really close to snap and start a war with HHP, and he knows nothing about his bro. So yeah. Such a great time to be alive.

The mushroom bodies should had been ready, right? He must be alright...Yeah. He has enough already to keep him busy. Cucumber bro is gonna come out and stumble across at any moment. No one would bat an eye if he takes a nap, right? He deserves it. He is overworked enough for another lifetime, his head hurts, his bones hurt everywhere, a short nap should be fine...

Until he feels something small tugging his robes and a cold tiny finger poking his eyelids. But he doesn't want to. He is very comfortable on the floor of his office. Whatever bird decided to pick a fight with his face can keep trying.

"AIRPLANE, WAKE UP, YOU HACK! I NEED YOU TO FIX THIS! WHY IS A WITCH WITH ANACHRONISTIC HAUNTED DOLLS IN THIS NOVEL? THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

That voice. That fucking annoying voice was of just one person and one person only. He opened his eyes, looking for the source of the unmistakable voice of his No1 hater, but he came across with a pretty porcelain doll. With a very ugly sneer in it's face.

"W-Wha-?...Bro-?!"

"Fucking finally! Why are you sleeping on the floor in your ofice?! I was looking around your bedroom like an idiot! Do you know how close I was to falling from your window?!"

-TBC-

[dolcezzatoru]

𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧' 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: satoru gojo x fem!reader 𝐰𝐜: 2.4k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: marijuana use 𝐚/𝐧: based off how i feel when i smoke a bit teehee <3 enjoy our lil lightweight hornyman

“i can feel you lookin at me, y’know,” you giggle.

you feel satoru’s eyes burning into the back of your head as he splays out on the couch. 

“oh, i didn’t realize it was a crime to admire my beautiful girlfriend,” he teases. he coos his words, making you roll your eyes as he speaks.

“uh huh,” you respond flatly. your voice gave away that you were smiling, and you hoped he didn’t notice.

you finished rolling the joint tightly, keeping a sliver of paper hanging off to drag your tongue across. sealing it, you admired your work before turning back to your boyfriend, who was stretching his long limbs out.

“this looks like shit,” satoru reaches up to grab the joint from your hands, laughing while he takes it.

“you dont even smoke, satoru, you’re in no place to say that,”

he hands it back to you, averting his eyes from yours. uncharacteristically, he doesn’t fight back. you slowly take the joint in your hand.

“what’s that look?”

“what look?”

“you have a look on your face,” you say, “like you wanna tell me something,”

he pauses for a sec, finally looking up. 

“can i try it this time?”

you almost laugh at the notion. 

“no way mr-anti-drug wants to try a hit”

satoru puts on his best puppy dog eyes as you suppress another smile.

“fine,” you cave, “c’mere”

you flick your lighter aglow as you lean over the coffee table and light the joint, taking a quick drag to show satoru the right way to do it. his fingers shakily take it away from you, holding it delicately and cautiously. he takes a long puff before erupting into a coughing fit.

“i told you to go slow,” you whine, rubbing his back and grabbing the joint as he continues to cough.

“sorry,” he chokes out with tears forming in his eyes as he continues to hack. you might as well get your fill, at least, rubbing your poor boyfriend’s back between drags of your own. squinting, satoru reaches his hand out for the joint.

“you ready?”

he nods, looking like he’s holding back another cough as you hand him it. he’s learned from his mistake, doing a few, quick pulls instead of one long one. satoru holds eye contact with you as he does it, teary blue eyes searching for approval with every movement.

and this went back and forth for a bit; you and satoru sitting in silence over some soft music that wasn’t being listened to, as satoru’s confidence grew with every rotation. you were proud of how fast he was catching on and how well he was handling it.

you cut yourselves off when you felt it was right.

satoru peered over at you from the other side of the couch through half-lidded eyes, smiling lazily.

“feeling okay there, sweetie?” your mind was beginning to feel more clouded than you expected, but you decided to be the strong one this time.

“yeah, i’m okay,” satoru replies calmly, slowly and heavily blinking, it makes you giggle. 

“ya sure?”

he smiles back, nodding.

“mmmhm…really sure,” 

he held eye contact, continuing his sweet, tired smile as he sunk deeper into the couch. you faced him, studying his delicate, chiseled features as he studied yours. 

“you’re cute,” he giggled.

love felt a little sweeter when you were sky high like this. all you could focus on was him.

and how soft the couch felt beneath you, oh my god, like a cloud. your body felt weightless.

you slow-blink to refocus your eyes on satoru. before you fully can, he bursts out into a laughing fit, falling closer to you on the couch.

“you aren’t even listening to me,” he whines, pawing at your legs. you look down at him. 

the whites of his pretty blue eyes are painted a light shade of pink around the edges, making his stark blue irises look more vibrant than ever. vibrant, but glazed over. there wasn’t a single fluid thought in his mind. 

“am too,” you protest, “it just caught me off guard,”

“that’s bullshit,” satoru laughs.

“hey now,” 

you flop and lay down with him. satoru sighs in content.

“i fucking love this couch,”

his words are slow and intentional, each one taking its sweet time to leave his unfortunately dry mouth. you turn to him, genuinely shocked.

“i was just thinking that!” 

satoru mirrors your expression and laughs.

“did you read my mind?”

“swear i didn’t,”

“oh wow…”

you two sit in silence.

“my mouth is dry,” he complains.

“that’s normal baby,”

satoru groans as you attempt to soothe him, hearing him smack his lips together to get some fluid between them.

“if you could read my mind would you tell me?” 

“baby, why would i tell you?”

he sits up dramatically, looking offended.

“don’t you love me?” he laughs.

“i do, but–”

“no way…”

the two of you burst out laughing, his laugh only making you laugh harder. he flops back down on the couch, you falling down next to him with your heads touching. silence falls between you again, the music softly rocking you two to a comfortable quietness.

“i feel so floaty right now,”

satoru still licks his lips while he says it, staring up at the ceiling. you wondered what he was thinking about while he looked to the white nothingness for a response. his hair looked so soft, you just had to find out for yourself what it would feel like.

fingers feeling a little light, you reach up and snake your fingers through his hair, feeling like you can make out every individual strand one by one. it was like a little wave of a white ocean filtering through your increasingly numb fingertips.

satoru gently moans, feeling your hands massaging his scalp.

the room falls towards the music again to hold the conversation. satoru closes his eyes, breathing deeply and slowly while you play with his hair. it felt like it could’ve been an hour before anyone spoke.

of course with satoru, that wasn’t possible.

“my legs are tingling,”

that was a usual feeling from this strain. it’s one of the reasons you liked it so much, after all. first you feel really good, and then your lower half feels like it’s floating, and then naturally, that makes you feel–

satoru turns his head and grabs yours too, fiercely shoving his tongue in your mouth to feel every part of you with him.

“...tastes good,” he mumbles between kisses.

if you could even call them that. he was leading the entire motion; you barely had enough time to get your arching arm out of his hair before he was moaning into your mouth.

you two face each other on the couch while you gently comb his hair away from his face.

he keeps going in for one more kiss.

satoru has to get the last word, the last door slam, the last kiss. and he doesn’t care how many times he has to close his eyes and pucker up in order for him to do it.

“feelin’ romantic, hm?” you giggle between his pecks.

“mhm,” he practically moans out, “just wanna kiss you more,”

“wait,” 

you maneuver a bit, getting up to adjust to a more comfortable position. satoru sits up a bit, or tries to, but you can tell his legs are not hooked up to his floaty little brain. so you help him a bit, straddling his waist as you lean down to kiss him more.

he loves it. his hands travel up and down your body, grabbing anywhere they could like he’d lose whatever part of you he didn’t feel for himself. his kisses were passionate, greedy, and practically begging for more. uncharacteristically, it was selfish–but hearing him moan and pant out your name, while he grabs all over had you looking the other way.

something pokes you. satoru moans a bit more as you pull away and see his face blush more.

he’s hard. from just kissing.

you can’t help but nip at his neck as you grind in his lap to tease him.

“all this from making out?” you tease, “someone’s eager tonight,”

“shut up,” he huffs out, opening his neck more for you, “i can’t help it,”

satoru gets more handsy, almost biting back at your teasing. his hands snake up your shirt, unclasping your bra underneath your shirt to mosey it off with your top in one go, quick enough to barely break the kiss to get it above your head.

the pace he was moving, the neediness of his tongue and actions had you feeling–

“i’m so fucking hot,” he mutters, pulling away to take his shirt off to add it to the pile with yours. both of you were wearing pajama bottoms, so satoru made quick work of pushing your little shorts to the side and pulling his pants down to his knees.

your skin touched his bare torso, feeling the heat at your core increase as you pressed yourself against him. you arch your ass in the air for satoru to slide himself in. his lips couldn’t stay off of you, pressing sloppy kisses to your shoulder and collarbone as he tried to peek over them to see your ass.

he grabbed his cock, the sensation making him hitch his breath as the feeling was all new to him. his legs and lower half were entirely on a different level than the rest of him–he felt everything but nothing at all. it felt amazing.

he rubbed it up and down between your folds, using your wetness to lubricate the head. it was hitting your clit perfectly, making you shudder as he teased your entrance. satoru kept his lips on your shoulder, one-track mind unable to keep kissing you while he focused his attention on rubbing the head of his cock up and down. 

god, it feels unreal. for both of you, really. selfishly, satoru was simply indulging this new sense and thinking only with his dick. it didn’t really matter what you wanted at the moment–it was all about him right now. 

and this felt so good, you were kind of okay with it.

as satoru moaned and breathed heavily against your skin, you held onto him more, pressing your chest against his to try and get fiction anywhere you could.

your body was in a different plane. it was almost like your body was underwater, made of light, or maybe on fire. but it was a warming kind of fire, the one that would make you feel so cozy and secure on a rainy day. it was internal though, and it was electric. any part of you that could touch him felt like it was tingling.

you wanted to be closer to him. you were smushed up against him but it wasn’t close enough.

“are you gonna fuck me or what,” you softly ask in his ear.

“someone’s eager tonight,” he mocks you earlier.

“you’re so horrible to me,” you nip at the shell of his ear as he slows his pace, quickens it, breathing picking up as he focuses on a way to respond.

“hold tight, doll,”

you can’t help but to comply as he finally sticks it in, wanton moan leaving you instinctively as he bottoms out in you. usually he asks before he moves, asks if you’re ready before his pace picks up before you have time to collect yourself.

not this time!

satoru felt too good to do that. the way you felt around him, the warmth and gummy walls of you felt like pure nirvana before he even started moving. god, he wasn’t going to last long at all. he had to put all his focus on not cumming immediately in you that you were speaking and moaning and he barely heard it.

it was something he’d never felt before, and all he wanted was more.

he started slow and gradually picked up the pace, arms wrapping around your lower back to keep you pinned to him as he eventually fucked you relentlessly. his pace was quick, but sloppy and uncharacteristically messy. his body was moving before he could tell it to; so lost in the feeling that he didn’t care how graceful he was with it. 

you held onto him close, eyes rolling back and closing as you couldn't hold back any moans, praises, or any incoherent noises that left your mouth.

you felt every inch of him, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. you felt every inch, every vein, every stroke in its entirety. it was intoxicating.

“fuck, fuck, fuck-” satoru breathed out heavily.

you rested your head on his chest, barely able to lift your body up from your high. you let him adjust you, move you around, mold you to whatever felt best for him. it felt good for you too. more than good, actually.

“c-c- i’m g-gonna,”

with a few more heavy thrusts, satoru kisses your shoulder and neck more, moaning as he paints your walls with his cum. the two of you stay like this for a bit, any movement spiking your oversensitivity with your high. 

satoru plants a few more kisses on your frame, pulling you up and off of him and pulling his pants back up. you help him sit up and he hands you his shirt, the first one he grabs, unable to stop himself from kissing you sweetly in the afterglow.

you sit on his lap as satoru helps you put his shirt on, holding you close as he fixes your messy hair and rubs your back.

“i’m gonna get something to clean up,”

he looks up at you, admiring your exhausted face as he continues rubbing your back.

“i wanna stay like this a little longer,” you pout.

satoru lays back again, pulling you with him as he settles back into the couch.

still feeling high, laying down like this on your boyfriend’s chest felt like pure heaven. selfishly, satoru didn’t want to get up and grab a towel just yet. it’d be painful to leave you, even for just a minute.

he plays with your hair as you begin to sleep on top of him, feeling himself get heavy eyelids as he barely can hold onto his consciousness.

“i wish i started smoking with you sooner,” he mumbles.

your eyes are closed, smiling as you call him on his bluff.

“i’ll hold you to that,”

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

Also, having Africa and conservation as a joint interest was a mistake.

I think that was because Harry had no real interests of his own other than partying, getting high and playing video games. He's just as empty as his wife in that regard. In fact I think he's actually worse. If they looked inside of him like they did Meghan in South Park, all they see would be a seething cauldron of rage and resentment.

Just as Meghan's been single white female-ing Kate, Harry has been doing that too to William all his life. And it's even more disturbing cos as u said, Meghan wanted Kate to be her bff but with her as the main bitch and Kate as the lesser friend. While Harry hates William, his archenemy. He wants whatever William has (money, family, Kate, interests, importance, respect, character, height, Diana's face and his special bond with her) and better. Failing that, he'd drag him down to his level. Thus the reputation and character assassination attempts by projecting his own flaws (envious, violent, malevolent, shady, sinister) onto William and accusing him of things he himself is guilty of (cheating, leaking and briefing against his family, betrayal, bullying, shady dealing).

See what happened in his hacking case. William had actually been the one who set things in motion that led to the leveson inquiry and press reforms when he reported his suspicion of a hacking to the police. But Harry twisted it around and painted William's private settlement as a secret shady dealing to appease the tabloids while claiming himself as the hero on a crusade using an old case that had been dealt with a long time ago when HE actually had been the one who fraternized with reporters in exchange for favorable coverage.

He is twisted and malevolent. No matter what happens with his marriage, the brf needs to make sure he stays away from William and his family. He wants to see William ruined and his faux concern about the Wales kids felt sinister and was telling -- he wants them to be as messed up as he is to vindicate himself and to punish William.

This is very insightful. It’s also kind of creepy when you take into consideration the rumors about him and Pippa.

[netegf]

violet chemistry (ii)

pairing: aged up!ao'nung x f!metkayina reader

plot: you and ao'nung attempt to regain control in your lives by fake-dating. the irony is… this is fated.

word count: 2.7k

a/n: the next instalment in my fake-dating!, friends to lovers!, best friend’s brother!au - once again, this takes place roughly 10 years after atwow - some pining + flirting, made-up rituals, attempts at comedy, & angst (WILL be resolved)! i really hope you enjoy part 2 🥹💖

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In all honesty, Ao’nung has been trying his hardest to avoid you. Only, that impulse is very quickly thwarted when he considers how many clan gatherings and rituals courting Na’vi couples attend together. Sitting before you and the azure clay bowl of paint you hold in your hand, for the first time in a long time, Ao’nung has a single thought. He really hadn’t thought this through.

“Stop moving.” You hum, brows pinched together in concentration as you swirl the coal-coloured paint with a brush much like the baleen of a whale’s mouth. Sitting with the feelings he’s been having, a part of him wonders what it might be like to be suspended in water and consumed entirely into the jaws of a sea beast. He listens almost immediately, then realizes that’s slightly out of character for him, resorting to a slight narrow of the eye that makes him look younger than he is.  

“You’re strangely quiet.” Your eyes bore holes into him, but he has a gift for escaping confrontation – staring somewhere off in the distance until his vision blurs.

Ao’nung hopes he looks nonchalant when he shrugs, but knows you. Knows that your keen. He doesn’t know how many times he’s come to communal dinner with a face he thought he’d fixed, but you'd been able to tell there was something off. A mediator of energy; you might as well have been able to smell it off him. But this wasn’t something he could let go of. He might’ve saved his favourite kills for you during the hunt in childhood, but this was profound. Pandora spins on a different axis. Everything looks like it’s in a different colour. How long had he loved his friend?

“Yeah.” He admits, chewing on his bottom lip. “Just worried you’re gonna, y’know… ruin my face for life?”

You roll your eyes with emphasis.

The ritual he refers to is one in which courting Metkayina couples draw facial tattoos for each other in paint, emulating what might one day be permanent. Unfortunately, Ao’nung has known you long enough to know that artistry has not been one of your most obvious gifts, and you pinch your eyes at him as the smug words leave his mouth.

“Shut up.” You hiss. “Or I’ll draw Lo’ak on your cheek.”

“Ambitious goal for an amateur.” He punches back, then nearly recoils.

Ao’nung can feel himself being mean – meaner than usual – and it casts a cloud of shame over him. He really thought he’d passed that point in his life where he masqueraded around his feelings and hacked them up alone until his throat bled. Childish, it felt. Something that gave him grief and gratitude – annoyed at his immaturity, but a strange sense of happiness at the fact that he could afford it. Still, you deserved better, and that pained him.

You grant him a small scoff then continue your ministrations.

Naturally, his eyes come to focus on your eyebrows knitted together, your tongue darting out of your mouth ever so slightly as the artistic vision you have in your mind comes to fruition, the subtle tremor of your careful hands. Instinctively, one of his hands comes up to stabilize yours, gripping the joint of your wrist.

Breath hitching just slightly, you quirk a brow. “You know… if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you’re enjoying this.”

“Gotta get you to my mom.” He mumbles, hand dropping to his side like a dead fly. “Get your eyes checked.”

After a few more strokes of the brush, and a couple dozen eyerolls, the design is finished.

“Done.” You say happily, fingers holding Ao’nung’s chin as you admire your handy work.

The pattern isn’t particularly complex or striking, but it decorates the high points of his face, each dark shape a representation of his achievement and growth as a hunter, as future Olo'eyktan, and your favourite – boy that loves the water.

Ao’nung’s eyes widen when he takes in his reflection.

“It’s, uh… more subtle than I thought it would be.” He says finally, clearing his throat, heat colouring his cheeks a new kind of colour.

He had to admit, it was pretty. He must have imagined what this would feel like a thousand times in his life. That one day, he’d rise to his rank, wear his adornments, and feel completely different. Feel like he was worthy of his position in the clan. To his surprise, time moved fast, but he very rarely did. All Ao’nung felt over the years was a lot of sameness – but today, wearing your tattoos on his face, he felt a sense of pride pang in his chest. He looked the part, and maybe that meant something.

“Well, we can’t have the clan forgetting you’re handsome. However would they stand your prickly temperament?”

Ao’nung feels prepared to roll his eyes at the diss, but then he catches himself. Better yet, he catches you, saying something you hadn’t exactly meant to reveal, but knew to be true nonetheless. He looks at you cautiously.

“You think I’m handsome?”

Chewing your bottom lip, you contemplate for a moment. Was there really anything wrong with admitting it? Just about everyone on the reef thought so, he had to have known that.

“Everyone thinks you’re handsome, Ao.” You try to soothe over the slip-up. “People line up to see you when you come back from the hunt, I think someone fainted when you tamed tsurak, this information can’t be surpris-,”

“But you.” He says quickly, eyes excruciatingly earnest. “You think I’m handsome?”

“Yes…I do.”

Ao’nung supposes he shouldn’t be surprised, and yet he is. He wasn’t a stranger to be being praised for his looks, but this was uncharted territory – a line that had never been crossed, and maybe intentionally so. Since when did you think so? Since when did a compliment for him fall so easily off your pretty lips and tongue like you were the only one he was meant to receive such words from?

You must have noticed his slow blinks and slightly gaping mouth as he thinks through it all, because then you’re saying something that has him absolutely reeling.

“Eywa, if that blows your mind, how are you going to react to the fact that I had a crush on you half my life?”

There’s a hint of humour in your tone, but Ao’nung is having a hard time understanding why it’s so funny – eyes nearly bulging out and erratic breaths practically choking him.

“Had?” He stammers, past-tense poking a hole in his heart. “When?”

“When?” You snort. “Like, forever. Well, until I grew out of it.”

He must look insane, brain jumping from thought to thought, zoning in on words that illuminate a fire in his gut, and others that just as quickly put the fire out in a wade of water that he, for once, does not welcome. A revelation, and the revocation of it. A sparkling jewel in his palm mere seconds before it disintegrates, leaving no trace of what once was, as if it were merely a tantalizing mirage and nothing more.  

“When the Sully’s arrived?”

“Yup.” You say too casually for his liking, popping the ‘p’. “And before… and after.”

“But I was so mean.”

He bites his tongue almost bitterly, almost incredulous. He had admirers over the years, sure – but those were souls that knew him from great distance, and there was comfort in that. But you… you knew him. Not just the great triumphs, but the pitfalls which were equal in magnitude and not for the faint hearted. He had to admit, his concept of love was more superficial. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel it, at least not in the way his parents did – in his eyes, they got lucky, and his future partnership was bound to be more political than it was anything else. And maybe that was his crutch, the lack of feeling. Maybe that was the reason he’d never crossed this line, never entertained having you as his.

Because that would be all-consuming. That would be the truest thing he’d ever felt – really a fish out of water like everyone pegged him to be. Painfully new, and painfully beautiful, and completely unrecoverable if it ended up not working out.

Though at this moment, he hates himself for that careful distance between you – the way this is a wound you’ve presumably healed from, while he bleeds out right before your eyes.  

“What can I say?” You smile, teasing him in the way you do, the way he loves. “I like a challenge.”

“Right.” He manages, breath still shaky, but the corners of his mouth slowly lifting.

The tide was changing and he needed to find a way to make it stop.

Apparently, his father was right. All those years spent build levees would finally coming to good use.

The night’s festivities are an especially generous feast and a series of dance rituals that you, while hesitant to admit it, know like the back of your hand.

Ao’nung sits with his father and other seasoned hunters in the clan, nodding absentmindedly to their spirited conversation about tracking game, which he admittedly knew very little about.

Really, he smiled when they smiled, stroked his chin when they seemed to debate something, and when he really hadn’t a clue what Tonowari was saying, gave a pretend laugh followed by a silent prayer to the great mother that he wasn’t being informed about someone’s death.

He had more important matters to mull over. Like you, sitting across the fire pit, engrossed in a conversation with his sister.

Entirely too receptive to his gaze, you momentarily stall from your speech to meet his eyes, lips curving into a small smile and hands giving a tentative wave. Ao’nung opts out of waving back but holds his piercing stare, convinced that the rounds of your eyes are more illuminating than the fire – and unlike its embers, your luminosity will stay.

“My son,” Tonowari’s voice booms over the overlapping chatter. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”  

Ao’nung nearly chokes, the tips of his ears turning an endearing shade of purple as he realizes he’s been gawking for far too long, and the last topic he recalls listening to was three conversations ago.

“I think, uh… everyone has made some important points.” He mumbles, while you and Tsireya snicker at him from across the fire.

Tonowari quirks an eyebrow at him, but luckily, chooses not to harp on it. He slaps a hand over Ao’nung’s back as if to excuse him from the conversation – not that he was contributing much anyways.

Ao’nung smiles gratefully and quickly makes his way over to you, scratching the back of his neck.

“Was that as embarrassing as I think it was?”

“Even more.” You laugh, scrunching your nose in a teasing kind of sympathy. “But it’s okay, we still love you.”

The ease to which the word ‘love’ falls out of your mouth makes him wince a little – this wasn’t the kind of love he’d found himself craving from you as of late, tossing and turning in his marui when he’s meant to be sleeping, very much aware that he’s awake behind those closed eyelids. He turns to Tsireya.

“Can I borrow her?” He asks as his sister’s eyes swell with intrigue. He feels the need to explain. “For a dance.”

Tsireya nods, a small smirk on her face before she dismisses herself.

“Duty calls?” You ask, shivering as his hands find their place on your hips, the pair of you slowly swaying back and forth to the beat of ceremonial drums. This is a practice for all courting Na’vi couples – they surround you at all sides, clumsily moving their bodies and giggling together, their love almost something physical in the air.

“Something like that.” He mumbles, eyes sheepishly raking over you. “You look nice.”

“I don’t have any extra food, Ao.”

“What? I don’t want your food.” He erupts. “I’m being serious.”

“Oh, okay. In that case, thanks. You look nice, too.”

Ao’nung’s ears perk up, toothy canines peeking out from under his lips in a sideways smile. He hopes the budding violet colour on your cheeks means what he thinks it does.

“So, what have you been up to?”

“Since I saw you this morning?” You repeat, eyebrow slightly raised.

“Yes. I mean, no.” He breathes shakily, rubbing his face in dismay. “Or, you know, in general.”

“Nothing too crazy.” You say softly, a certain lamenting in your voice. “I kind of live in a box, remember?”

Ao’nung nods. He bites the inside of his cheek, thinking for a moment, the heels of his feet burning as he tries to think up a way to make that sad look in your eye disappear.

“But I’m here.” He offers.

“Yeah. You’re here.”

The way your eyes soften as you say words has his heart soaring. He leans in a little closer, the rhythmic buzzing of the percussion reaching a peak. Your mouth parts slightly. It feels like it means something.

But you’re soon interrupted when the music stops and all the couples come to a halt, just the painful empty air of what could’ve been filling the space between you.

Ronal appears from just across the fire-pit as she pulls her son in for a conversation he’s sure he won’t listen to. He mouths a gentle ‘sorry’ before disappearing, leaving you with your thoughts and Tsireya, who takes a seat on the log next to you.

“You two look friendly. Or should I say, more than friendly?” Her grin looks like it could reach her ears it’s so wide.

“It’s pretend.” You remind her dejectedly. “Just because you and Lo’ak are going strong, doesn’t mean you can bring your loved-up vibes over here.”

Tsireya scrunches her nose in displeasure at the English word. It didn’t mean much when Lo’ak used it in conversation, and it didn’t mean much now.  

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but my brother pretends very poorly.”

Your gaze shifts to where Ao’nung is standing, eyes trained on his mother with a far-away look in his eyes – you have to force yourself to bite back a laugh.

“He doesn’t see me that way, Reya. He never has.” You sigh, chewing on your bottom lip. “And besides, even if he did… I can’t be the mate he needs.”

“You love him, do you not?” She asks, clearly puzzled.

You look at Ao’nung again, now speaking in a small circle of Na’vi.

One member in particular makes your tender heart ache. A young Metkayina woman. She’s a skilled weaver and even better huntress. Beautiful, reliable, eager for leadership and responsibility. Not weighed down by strangeness. Not heavy with unbridled emotion. Strong and loving, in the way he needs – more palatable.

“Maybe love just isn’t enough sometimes.”

“Maybe,” Tsireya’s voice breaks through your spiral. “You are scared.”

Perhaps Tsireya has a point, or perhaps she doesn’t. Regardless, the constricting in your chest is hard to shake off. Even when she softly cups your cheek before walking away. Even when Ao’nung finds a way to escape whatever boring topic of discussion that has it’s claws digging into his sides, and his lips, yearning for yours, again. Small smile teasing at his mouth, he tugs at your hand.

“Hey, maybe we can get them to play a little more? Have another dance?”

“Ao… I think we need to stop. I-I don’t want to do this anymore.”

More than the words, it’s the pain in your eyes that punches him hard in the gut, leaving his lungs gasping for mouthfuls of air that don’t seem to dull the stinging. Your breaths do something similar, chest heaving, fighting every instinct in your body that tells you this is wrong because protecting him feels more important. It’s in that moment that Ao’nung realizes he doesn’t like comparing you to fire. It’s born to die. Warm and hungry, but it’s not for touching and it’s not forever.

His hand leaps forward to catch your shoulder, but you’re bolting before he can follow-through – fingers flinching back from the heat on your skin.

a/n: reblogs + tags are always appreciated 🪐🩷🫶🏼 i hope you enjoyed! how do we feel about part 3? 🤭

[fearandhatred]

Hehehehehe for the one word thing: theft (or words related to that)

i'm so sorry for this it could be five sentences if you squint real hard. also me when writing absolutely anything at all: how do i make this about angel crowley

the dollmaker

the teeth went first, which you lined up with extreme care onto curved wires caressing a plain, wooden pole. they say teeth are what make a face, and i guess that must be true—you would know. i hadn't known yet what you were going to do, so i just watched with my bare, gaping mouth as you chipped my teeth into asymmetrical shapes, carving them into a beast's.

the tongue was next, the larynx too—just as well. i wasn't much keen on speaking anymore, anyway, what with all the blood in my gums. i wasn't keen on smelling anymore, either, the tang of iron and wood flecks that surrounded you like a visible aura. the silence must have been music to your ears, now that i couldn't scream through the pain, could hardly even take a breath.

there were the lips, the nose, the cheekbones. you took it all off my face, like a sculptor trying to return their creation to a clean marble slab, and all i could do was watch. and maybe, along the way, i was even resigned. that settling that inevitably came with constancy.

but then the panic surged back up and out of my body along with my eyes, which you scooped out with ease, and i could scream again, only it wasn't coming from me—no, maybe it was me, the other me, if it was me. i didn't know which way was left, couldn't comprehend what my eyes were seeing: it's one thing to see fragments of yourself scattered around like an unfinished painting; it's another to see the remains of where those fragments were stolen from—oh god, it would have been kinder to be less methodical, to have had gnarled and brazenly sliced pieces of flesh and marrow exploded off of my face, rather than the precise and surgical peeling away of skin, all in one piece like wool from a shearer's hand.

and you painted them a lurid, reptilian yellow, slitted pupils like a knife's scar. i saw this, i saw my eyes only through yours, gold reflected off blue, and for a moment there was something so intimate, so complementary in that gaze, you with your deceitfully gentle smile and weightless hair, that i forgot what you were doing to me. just for a moment. but then it came into focus again, that garish, nauseating colour of my eyes, and that moment was gone. the colour of sick, one more step away from the angel i was, if an angel was defined only through construct; if an angel was defined by spirit, by grace, by acts… you're the farthest thing from an angel i could possibly fathom, and yet here you are.

i closed my eyes, then, and one by one you took, and you took, and you took, stealing everything from me, stealing myself from me. when you lifted my brain out of my cleaved skull, the pain finally quietened, if only for the few seconds it took to rewire it, but it was a reprieve, and i was grateful. and i didn't feel it when my limbs were hacked off at their stems, tourniqueted and cauterised. i didn't feel it when you ripped out the nails from my fingers and toes and replaced them with claws.

and so even as you took, and you took, and you took, i didn't struggle, no, and soon i couldn't struggle. but i didn't want it, i didn't, i didn't. but one by one by one, it got easier, with every limb and organ and joint, with every side sweep of my hair; you've changed that, too. because i thought—oh, i thought that with every piece of me you changed and fit into this new mold, i thought you would at least take it all. i thought you would complete me at the end, so that even changed, this new thing may still be me.

but we're at the final stages now. here come my lungs, my intestines, my stomach, fitting into this new me so perfectly it's as if i'd never changed at all. you've taken the stray clumps of my meat and stuffed them back into me, you've fed me back my blood, and it all works, as if i'd never changed at all. there's just my heart now, resting on the stool you'd propped me up on like a doll, nothing left but stray splotches of blood, but you're not taking it, you're not taking it, what are you doing?

i feel each individual stitch now as you sew me up around my joints and from my pelvis to my neck, a long line like snake vertebrae, weaving in and out of my skin. and still my heart remains untouched, outside of my body, discarded like waste. i start to beg now, because i can, and i didn't want this, but now i'm so close to reformation, to being whole, and oh, i feel so empty, you left the hole in my chest there where something is supposed to fit, and now my centre of gravity is off, and i can't be expected to live this way.

please, all i'm asking for is my heart, just this one thing. i know i haven't been good, i know i struggled, i know i screamed, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry. oh, but please, won't you take it?

[darkmaga-retard]

The hack against the Trump campaign is not an effort to "stoke discord and undermine confidence in our electoral process," as feds claim.

Jordan Schachtel

Sep 18, 2024

The U.S. intelligence community has finally acknowledged that hackers working for the Iranian government infiltrated and stole private communications from top Trump campaign officials, and then attempted to launder that information to the Biden-Harris administration for use against their political opponent.

However, the acknowledgment came with a giant information operation affixed to it.

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Past performance is not indicative of future returns. Investment involves risk. See Important Reg A Disclosures at masterworks.com/cd. The content is not intended to provide legal, tax, or investment advice. No money is being solicited or will be accepted until the offering statement for a particular offering has been qualified by the SEC. Offers may be revoked at any time. Contacting Masterworks involves no commitment or obligation.  “Net Annualized Return” refers to the annualized internal rate of return net of all fees and expenses, calculated from the offering closing date to the date the sale is consummated. IRR may not be indicative of Masterworks paintings not yet sold and past performance is not indicative of future results. For additional information regarding the calculation of IRR for a particular investment in an artwork that has been sold, a reconciliation will be filed as an exhibit to Form 1-U and will be available on the SEC’s website. Masterworks has realized illustrative annualized net returns of 17.6% (1067 days held), 17.8% (672 days held), and 21.5% (638 days held) on 13 works held longer than one year (not inclusive of works held less than one year and unsold works). *“Net proceeds” represents the total liquidation proceeds distributed back to investors, net of all fees, expenses and proceeds reinvested in Masterworks offerings, of all works Masterworks has exited to date. This metric is not considered a presentation of performance but rather a mathematical figure that displays a platform metric on size, scale, and operation of the platform.

In a joint statement released Wednesday evening, the U.S. intelligence community declared that the hack was a mere effort to break Americans’ faith in our electoral system and our “democratic institutions.”

“This malicious cyber activity is the latest example of Iran’s multipronged approach … to stoke discord and undermine confidence in our electoral process,” reads the statement.

[thesilliestrovingalive]

Updated: September 22, 2024

Reworked Character #5: Trevor Spacey

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to child abuse, neglect, suicide, death, crime, and drug addiction.

Real name: Yeong-Gi Kwak

Alias: Chill Blade of Security

Occupation: Sergeant of the P.F. Squad

Retirement plans: Become a security programmer

Special skills: Proficiency in security programming and computer hacking, repurposing stolen enemy technology, psychological manipulation, taekwondo, and knifemanship

Hobbies: Helping Marco with technological issues and computer programming, doing graffiti on abandoned buildings, creating anti-virus programs, hacking into people’s accounts to see what they’re up to, and playing darts and video games

Likes: Marco’s heroism and superior computer skills, tinkering with security software while listening to music that has grabbed his attention, the nunchucks that once belonged to a former friend named Haneul, his two combat knives, and Nadia (his best friend)

Dislikes: Being called “Trevor Spicy” and “old” due to the frequent misspelling of his last name and his bleached hair, laughing so much to the point he’s coughing and wheezing, people making fun of his graffiti art, faulty security software, and boredom

Favourite food: Samgyeopsal

Favourite drink: Slushies

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Gender: Male

Age: 13 (in 2022), 19 (in 2028), 21 (in 2030), 23 (in 2032), 25 (in 2034), 32 (in 2041), 34 (in 2043), 35 (in 2044), and 38 (in 2047)

Blood type: AB-

Weight: 148 lbs. (67 kg)

Design: He's a 5' 9" (175.26 cm) Korean ectomorph with a lanky build, a weak musculature, sloping shoulders, warm ivory skin, dark brown eyes, nails painted a silver-grey, and a black mole beneath the left corner of his lip. He has a jet-black undercut hairstyle, featuring icy blonde hair on top with nearly middle-parted bangs that fall over his left eye, covering it partially. On his back, he has a large tattoo depicting a fiery Jindo dog chasing a golden pheasant in orbit around the moon. His lower right leg was amputated due to gangrene caused by the use of the opioid Krokodil, and has since been replaced with a bronze-hued prosthetic. He bears several scars: a curved scar on his left cheek; an X-shaped pair on his chest; a jagged stab wound on the top of his right hand; a long scar running down the length of his left upper arm; and a series of parallel scars on his right forearm.

Trevor's military gear consists of a metal dog tag necklace with his name, a scarlet bandana worn around his neck, bronze-plated goggles with orange-tinted lenses, and glaucous fingerless gloves. He wears a ruddy blue sweater with two deep pockets, cerulean wool lining, a bronze zipper, silver-striped cuffs, and an embroidered logo of the P.F. Squad on the back, which he occasionally ties around his waist. He wears baggy Cambridge blue army cargo pants, tucked into his Russian violet paratrooper boots, which have hidden knives and are held up by a glaucous belt. He also wears a sleeveless reddish-black shirt with a mock neck and a bust mesh panel, sheathes for his two combat knives, and a gun holster for his handgun.

His sweater has two hidden strapped compartments that can hold up to two firearms or two additional blades when needed. The pockets of Trevor's sweater carry a bag of THC-infused red box gummies (given to him by Ralf), a gourd-shaped jade charm necklace believed to capture fortune and health, and a photograph of him and Nadia. He also carries around a metallic pink-purple lighter and a plastic bag that contains six weed joints. A claw hammer is concealed in the right pocket of his cargo pants, while the left pocket is occupied by a sound-cancelling, bluetooth headset and his black cellphone with a metallic blue case.

Over his shirt, he wears a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries his walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. A black bandolier is wrapped above his belt, holding onto the ammunition for his handgun. He carries a Cambridge blue load-bearing backpack containing camping equipment, tactical explosives, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, seven cans of spray paint in different colours, a wide range of hacking tools such as the Flipper Zero and O.MG cables, and nunchucks. He has a collection of piercings, including: sapphire wire hook earrings; black industrial piercings; dark blue tragus piercings; a shiny silver barbell nose bridge piercing; a bold black horizontal eyebrow piercing on his left side; a metallic purple frog eyes tongue piercing; and a dainty gold hoop vertical labret piercing.

Personality: He's a stoic existentialist who focuses on what he can control, accepts what lies beyond his grasp, and believes in the power of individual free will to shape the course of one's life. He's a highly intelligent, cunning, and resourceful man who’s confident in his knife skills and computer knowledge, but can come across as overconfident at times. Despite Trevor’s easy-going demeanour and calm smile, he’s watchful, and his jovial nature often serves as a facade to conceal his underlying anxiety. He's easily amazed and intrigued by the wonders of nature, unexpected revelations, explosions, and impressive feats performed by his friends and comrades such as effortlessly hacking into an entire military mainframe. When discussing his interests or sharing fascinating experiences, he becomes quite talkative.

Trevor is an ambivert capable of being ruthless, intensely serious, and unsettling when the situation demands it. He's a skilled manipulator, able to turn enemies into allies in desperate situations by exploiting their morals and convincing them they're in the wrong. When manipulating others, he also instills fear through physical and psychological torment, such as breaking their fingers with a hammer or threatening to kill a loved one in front of them. However, he's unexpectedly stubborn when it comes to protecting those he cares about and the lives of innocent people. He holds immense respect for Marco, whom he regards as a role model for excellence in computer science, and enjoys assisting him with investigations and tech projects. He enjoys tagging along with Tarma, Marco, Eri, and Ralf because he regards them as role models, skilled fighters, and experts in their respective fields of expertise.

He has a playful and mischievous streak, evident in his habit of licking his combat knives and taunting those he considers “morally weak” and “blindly stupid”. Unlike most people, he's willing to forgive his enemies when he realises they're suffering and have an opportunity to redeem themselves. Trevor is surprisingly internet savvy and enjoys using internet slang in both his online and offline conversations with most of his friends, often finding humour in it. Whenever someone he admires, like Marco, calls him "old”, he feels a pang of emptiness inside and becomes noticeably melancholic. On the other hand, when people jokingly refer to him as "Trevor Spicy”, he seems unimpressed, responding with either the silent treatment or a blunt "bug off" accompanied by a deadpan expression. However, he's perplexed by his popularity among women, who admire his physique and exceptional computer skills.

He occasionally participates in Nadia's antics, adding a touch of dramatic flair to them, but will draw the line when her schemes exceed his comfort zone. He’s often disappointed and shocked by Nadia's actions and words, frequently expressing his distaste and uncertainty. When he's extremely bored, he becomes lethargic and sleepy, making it challenging for him to muster interest in anything until the feeling passes. Trevor cherishes Nadia's friendship, admiring her confidence, optimism, understated intelligence, and playful humour, which helps him unwind and find gratitude in his life. He's driven to protect and understand Nadia, fearing that losing her would leave her confused and hurt. Nadia's charm has captivated him, but he's uncertain whether his feelings are rooted in platonic affection or romance as he's still grappling with the complexities of true love.

He holds an extreme disdain for illegal substances and champions the responsible and lawful use of substances. If he notices that one of his friends or comrades is struggling with a drug addiction, he'll go out of his way to provide them with comfort and try to help them break away from that addiction. Due to his upbringing, he struggles with golden child syndrome, but he has made significant progress in overcoming its challenges, thanks in large part to the support of friends like Fio. He's struggling to come to terms with the loss of Haneul, his first true friend, who not only taught him essential survival skills but also introduced him to the world of graffiti art and fostered his passion for security programming and hacking. He's extremely allergic to felines, so he regards domestic cats as “diabolical little buggers” and makes every effort to avoid them. He hates how Perifa often likes to bug him for cuddles and how Marco is a "cat magnet", which attracts cats that exacerbate his allergies.

Backstory: Yeong-Gi Kwak was born on June 25, 2009 in Seogwipo, Jeju Island, South Korea. He is the eldest of four siblings: his twin sister, Eun-Gyeong; his younger brother, Il-Seong; and his youngest brother, Seok-Jin. His father is a businessman who owns a computer software company, and his mother is a medical engineer. His parents, who were workaholics, put a lot of pressure on him and his siblings to be high achievers, believing that more effort and hard work would lead to a successful career. However, they were quick to forgive the faults of Yeong-Gi and Eun-Gyeong, allowing them to get away with more than their two younger brothers. As the oldest children in the family, his parents put a lot of pressure on him and his twin sister to set a good example and be proper role models for their two younger brothers.

This parenting style fed into Yeong-Gi's and Eun-Gyeong's need to consistently achieve, satisfying their perfectionistic and people-pleasing tendencies. Nevertheless, it also stirred an inflated sense of self in both, with Eun-Gyeong exhibiting signs of narcissistic personality disorder and Yeong-Gi experiencing a great deal of guilt on behalf of his two younger brothers. In contrast, Il-Seong was often scapegoated, frequently blamed for things he didn't do and severely punished by his parents, who would often lock him in the basement for hours. Meanwhile, Seok-Jin was neglected, retreating from his dysfunctional family by spending time alone in his room drawing or going to the park to play by himself. Yeong-Gi made a concerted effort to support Il-Seong and Seok-Jin, which undoubtedly brought some comfort and solace into their lives.

At the age of 3, Yeong-Gi received his first computer from his parents as a gift of appreciation. By the time he turned 7 years old, he had already developed a comprehensive understanding of binary codes and computer languages. During his summer breaks from school, he spent most of his time creating anti-virus programs, which often served as his homework assignments.

However, his dedication to his work left him with little time to spend with his two younger brothers, Il-Seong and Seok-Jin; however, he did manage to sneak in some time to read books on psychology, listen to K-pop, and play video games with Eun-Gyeong. His parents heavily encouraged his efforts, as he strove to make a positive impact on his school. Ultimately, his hard work paid off, as the school he formerly attended continued to utilise his sophisticated anti-virus programs to combat growing threats from the Internet.

By the time he enrolled in secondary school, his twin sister, Eun-Gyeong, mysteriously vanished. She was last seen with her friends near a shopping mall. Although their relationship was complicated due to her narcissistic tendencies and disrespect towards their younger brothers, Yeong-Gi still cared deeply for her. He had often tried to help her, teaching her the value of humility and assisting her with homework she struggled to understand. He was utterly devastated when his parents announced her disappearance, and it made headlines in the news. A part of him felt lost that day, and the family's desperate search efforts ultimately proved futile. Despite their best efforts, Eun-Gyeong was never found by the authorities and remains missing to this day.

Despite the tragic disappearance of his sister, Yeong-Gi continued to excel in all his classes, but the pressure on him to become successful and be a role model intensified. As he finished grade 10 and summer break began, tragedy struck again when Il-Seong took his own life, sending Yeong-Gi spiralling into an identity crisis. He ran away from home and sought solace with Feodosiy, a Russian transfer student he had befriended in grade 9.

Feodosiy introduced him to his street gang and offered him his first dose of the opioid Krokodil, which Yeong-Gi accepted without hesitation. He became a delinquent, rebelling against his parents and their mistreatment of him and his siblings, but at the cost of becoming addicted to Krokodil. He bleached his hair an icy blonde, adopted the alias Trevor Spacey, and got a tattoo from Feodosiy's right-hand man, Haneul.

For three months, he lived with Feodosiy and his street gang, surviving by stealing essentials and inhabiting a rundown apartment. During this time, he engaged in various criminal activities, including theft, mugging, drug dealing, extortion, and arson. With Haneul's guidance, he honed his knifemanship skills and mastered the art of taekwondo. However, his Krokodil addiction spiralled out of control, leading to a near-fatal overdose, which led to the subsequent amputation of his lower right leg. This traumatic experience forever deterred him from using street drugs.

After being discharged from the hospital with Feodosiy's gang members' help, he returned to a life of crime, although at a reduced level, as he adjusted to his prosthetic leg. He eventually abandoned his delinquency after accidentally killing a junkie behind a restaurant. Haunted by the incident, he remembered gazing at his reflection in a seedy restaurant's mirror, realising he had gone too far. The deep-seated fear of arrest drove him to the brink of madness, and he decided to eliminate Feodosiy, who had dragged him into crime.

After orchestrating the demise of Feodosiy and his cohorts, he scrubbed himself clean in the bathroom of the rundown apartment where Feodosiy had been staying. He then returned home, where his parents, relieved to see him, sensed the guilt and shame etched on his face for mistreating their children. Seok-Jin was also relieved to see him come home, fearing that he would never return. He confessed to them about his experiences, but kept his murders and certain crimes a secret.

He returned to high school, completing his remaining years successfully, embracing his new identity. Upon coming home from his graduation ceremony, he noticed a flyer seeking recruits for the Regular Army. He expressed interest to his parents, who were initially hesitant but eventually agreed with Seok-Jin's support. Leveraging his expertise in psychological manipulation, knifemanship, and computer languages, he joined as a military scout in the Regular Army.

After enlisting, he befriended Nadia, a scientist and soldier for the Amadeus Syndicate, and thwarted a computer virus that Marco had inadvertently released. After being off street drugs for a long time, he discovered marijuana was legal in Canada and decided to try it. This led to him developing a mild marijuana habit, which helped calm his nerves and cope with past trauma. During a mission to counter a cyber attack on European governmental forces, he earned Marco's respect due to his exceptional computer skills in hacking and security programming. As a result, he was invited to join the prestigious Peregrine Falcons Squad, where he rose to the rank of Sergeant.

[dolljunk]

Here is one of my very first projects I've done in merry old England. Turnds out G2 Dracula dolls are a bit easier to find here than in Australia so I ended up getting one in hopes of turning him into a G1 style doll. I basically checked out of Monster High by the time G2 came around so I rarely picked up any of them, and looking at the secondary market, it seems like no one else did either.

I always considered G2 to be more of a soft reboot that would be called G1.5 since a lot of the sculpts, parts and lore are dependent on the previous gen, and giving Dracula a G1 look is easier thsan say, making a G3 base suit G1.

Dracula however has a budget body that lacks any arm articulation, and I really would like my MH dolls to be articulated, so I ended up transplanting the arms from a BTS doll body onto the Dracula body. I had to carefully hack away at the seams to get this to pop open and I mangled both the BTS torso and Dracula arms to save the parts I wanted combined.

I didn't have any of my paints available so I didn't even paint his arms, but I did use a pair of Create a Monster Vampire boy hands to give him jointed hands without risk of chipping.

[skull001]

Decided to remove all the paint applications in my previous attempt at customizing the Jakks Pacific Rusty Rose figure from Sonic Prime and do it all over to add some missing bits from the retail version and make her resemble more her on-screen appearance.

I like how the hands look now by first painting the cover with Light Gun Metal (Tamiya TS-42) and topped it with Chrome Silver (Tamiya X-11).

For the feet and knee joints, I used again Light Gun Metal and masked the darker bare plastic, as it still has a nice metal look that wonderfully contrasts the Tamiya paint (aka, I went the lazy route. XP).

Likewise, the "grill" panel over her right eye was sprayed with TS-42.

But the one part I'm proud off, is the metallic bits at the base of her mechanical bangs, as not only it were small areas to mask, but also softer, rubbery plastic tends to be a bit hard to paint.

Pretty much all that is left to do is painting the hoose under her left arm (always wondered what that is for in her design) and the right eye... though I might left it as it is, since it's not exactly wrong, given that is how she looks in a diagram when Nine hacks her.

[professionalscrublord]

Magnetized Joints / Torso Twist

For sick action-figure movement.

Hacked up some minis and affixed magnets in the joints for some movement. Now you can track torso twists physically on the board. And swing the axe arm for shits n' giggles.

Honestly starting was a little nerve-wracking since it's the first time I'd set out to willingly damage a model. Normally I baby them and cringe if I drop them.

Pictured: Hand drill, magnets, wharncliffe knife I'm using cause I didn't bother getting a hobby knife, and a serrated kitchen knife I was using as a saw until I cracked and got the lil Tamiya craft saws on the right.

Here's the poor Axman, after a few rounds of sawing at it and soaking the joint in superglue un-cure, either the glue dissolved enough or the plastic softened enough to where I could twist the joint apart.

Left: Bushwacker with magnets top and bottom, also Axman axe arm taken off. Then Nightstar with the same. On the right: how I kept the magnets + greenstuff to make sure I didn't put them in backwards. Needed dabs of superglue under the magnets to keep them from pulling each other out of the greenstuff.

Hacked off the Bushwacker's triangular shoulder missiles and sculpted on a PROPER X-shaped LRM-5 launcher from MechWarrior 3, *Ahem*. (I'm sure they made the change for ease of plastic casting or something.) Axman got a bit taller cause I misjudged the magnet depth too shallow, filled in some greenstuff to hide the magnet again.

Joints before+after priming Platemail Silver. On the right: the Exterminator's legs are drying held in the assembly stand because his leg/hip joint twisted off before his waist joint did...

KGC-010 mod. Cut off the Large Laser, modeled some flush-mounted particle cannons surrounded with SRM-6 launchers, and spiky cooling vanes poking out the back.

Left: Extra articulation on the Black Knight to make him Monty-Python compatible. "I'll bite yer legs off!" Note the head's Small Laser. Right: BL-6-KNT further modded into a BL-9 "Clanbuster" variant: Cut SL from head and glued to CT, modeled an axe out of greenstuff. Held upside down while the glue was drying and greenstuff was curing, because otherwise it started to droop from the weight of the axe head.

Side note: Apparently the BL-9 has a "Sword-shaped Hatchet". Hatchet according to record sheet, Sword according to lore. This must be some easter egg from the early days of melee weapons before Swords got their own rules or something. I got got. Reminds me of how the King Crab just has bog-standard hand actuators instead of Claws that were only added to the rules way after its time.

KGC's LL reused to create an infantry mortar emplacement, in a ring of sandbags.

One last glamour shot showing all the converted minis twisting. Didn't forget about that triangular LRM-5 from the Bushwacker, did you? Created a stationary defense turret with it to the left of the mortar, modeled some other missiles and gun barrels using greenstuff and a 3d Pen. The one on the right is entirely scratch-built.

Now I have to decide how I want to paint them.

[faetaiity]

Writing this on my phone pls don’t shit on it

How I think the Turtles would be regarding dates

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, they can’t go out on dates easily with you

Let’s say you’re in school and they can’t go out during the day

So for the most part, all of your dates happen on weekends so they can take you out and not have to worry about you needing to sleep earlier

The time where you have the most dates are during Summer break and Winter

Summer because you don’t go to school and can stay up later into the night with them (I headcanon them to sleep between 6am-2pm due to only being able to do anything at night lmao)

Winter because it gets darker quicker (Around 5pm) so they can chill with you easier even if you are in school during the week

Dates also vary with the seasons

During winter y’all will be in the lair or in your apartment due to them being reptiles (Cold-Blooded)

Summer is where y’all stay up into the ungodly hours and do random shit out in the streets (and also fighting bad mutants/Yokai)

Mikey once took you to Repo Mantis’s yard and spray painted EVERY. SINGLE. CAR

Mantis was fucking pissed to say the least

Donnie is the one who just spends most of the dates inside regardless of the temperature outside

During those dates with Donnie, y’all mostly play Multiplayer games like Smash, Mario Kart, MMORPG’s, etc

Raph and you like to knit or sew little teddy bears

Yes, he WILL teach you if you don’t know how to

Leo takes you to annoy Hueso (and to eat the bombass pizza)

It’s also not exactly unheard of for them to take you to the hidden city

It’s only happened once or twice though, and they mostly ended terribly

Leo got portal jacked while showing you around and that was an entire fiasco

Because police Yokai think Raph looks a lot like most of their criminals he would be the least likely to take you

Mikey takes you to see the various art murals down there, especially the ones about Lou Jitsu

Donnie just goes down there with you to brag about how much better his tech is compared to their ‘magic’ (which ends up SOMEHOW with big mama’s goons chasing y’all around the battle nexus, how you two even got there is a mystery to you)

If a Hidden city date occurs, they’re gonna be really finicky due to Humans being a lot weaker than Mutants or Yokai (Even if you aren’t human they’re still on edge)

Something interesting always happens on even the most boring sounding dates

Playing video games with Donnie? Surprise, Purple dragons hack into his shit and tries to kill you

Out with Raph? The mud dogs managed to get a cloaking brooch and are trying to get revenge over the impersonation Situation that happened

At a pizza joint with Leo? The foot clan comes in and causes bullshit until ALL of you get kicked out

Art with Mikey? It ends up with both of you running away from Donnie because he accidentally got splashed with paint (didn’t end well for you and Mikey LMAOOOO)

[coldeternalarchive]

WELCOME TO THE FAMILY

“You’re all set up.”

It was just past noon and Zack had been working since seven that morning, but the bike was fixed. He rolled the motorcycle out to the sidewalk with all the care he took in handling things that were not his. “Can I go ahead and run your card for the full amount?”

“Oh yeah, I got paid this morning, the money’s there.” The man took the bike from Zack, the name ‘Haner” glinting in bright gold script on the back of his leather jacket as he turned. “You know, you could always come join us and ride some night. Anytime, not just night.” He brushed back his black hair that was straight and several inches longer than Zack’s own emo cut and slid the sunglasses from his head down to the bridge of his nose.

“Maybe someday. Another time.” Zack promised, catching his reflection in the mirrored lenses, five foot nine, maybe one hundred and fifteen pounds if he was wearing boots, hair purple and black, black eyeliner over purple and pink shadow that made him look slightly malnourished and ill.

“Whatever, you’ve been saying that the entire time I’ve been coming here. You know, parts of you are gonna fall off if you don’t get back on the bike. It’s a medical fact.”

Zack just shook his head and the other man changed the subject.

“Hey, I’m thinking about getting a bike for my sister, she turns fourteen in a few months. First I’m going to teach her to ride like me, then I’m gonna teach her to hack computers like me. That’s what my parents get for having kicked me out at the tender, impressionable age of twenty one.”

“That was four years ago, get over it!”

“Dude, paying rent sucks balls! Anyway can you keep your eye out for a dirt bike?”

“Yeah sure. I could probably even do some graphics on it for ya if you’ll let me know what she’s into.”

“Fucking awesome, man. Hey have you checked the heating system in this joint?”

Zack’s bike shop had been open only ten months and all of those months had been summer.

“We got a cold front coming in, you’ll want to keep at least one bay door sort of open so people know you’re....you know...OPEN. So you’re gonna need some heat. Don’t want little Zacky’s sausage fingers freezing off the way his dick is gonna fall off from not riding.”

“Fuck you, Brian. Thes sausage fingers fixed that, useless bike of yours! Not my fault you can’t steer for shit and you keep wrecking.”

“Just giving the weather report to my little buddy!” He reached over and messed up Zack’s hair. “Don’t want you to freeze or have to keep all the bay doors shut and hang a bed sheet outside that says I ASSURE YOU WE ARE OPEN.”

“I’m not even supposed to be here today!” Mimicked Zack.

“Help!! Call the cops! This guy’s trying to kill me!”

Zack and Brian turned around to see a kid running at them holding a fourth of a hard roll sandwich in one hand and a slim backpack in the other. He was smaller than even Zack which meant he was way smaller than Brian. He had a blond buzzcut that appeared to be spray painted black in places and was wearing a faded Vans tshirt and jeans that hung off him like they belonged to someone else. He and Brian sized each other up before the kid jumped behind Brian to hide.

“You gotta protect me!”

“First of all, I ain’t gotta do shit! Second of all, are you mental? There’s no one after you.”

“I got a jump on ‘em, they’re behind me....somewhere! Seriously, give me a hand!”

“I‘m not getting dirty for someone I don’t know.” Brian sniffed. “Beat it, kid!”

“Do you know who runs this shop?” The kid pointed to the inside of Zack’s garage. “Maybe he’ll let me hide!”

“Me and no I won’t.”

“You?”

“Yes me! Do I have to look like a Hell’s Angel to run a bike shop?!” It wasn’t often Zack ran into someone who was shorter than he was and it was fun staring down the kid and watching him squirm.

“I know he looks like a model for Hot Topic, he looks like he could be in AFI, no autographs, please, but yeah it’s HIS place!” Brian laughed.

“Can I hide in there?! Please?”

“NO!!” Zack and Brian yelled in unison.

“Look, if you want us to be your bodyguards, you gotta pay us!” Brian said as the kid danced nervously from one foot to the other, peering around Brian’s well muscled arms.

“t..I don’t have any money!”, the kid whined. “Uh..ham sandwich?” He held up the bit of bread and meat he was holding.

“Get that shit outta here!” Brian swatted it out of his and and the kid’s face fell like a toddler who had dropped his ice cream cone.

“There he is!!!”

Zack and Brian spun around and saw two guys about their own age thundering around the corner at the far end of the street.

“Ahhhh!” The kid screamed and took off running, the older boys half a block behind him, in hot pursuit.

“Wow, never a dull moment.” Brian started his bike and waved to Zack as he merged into traffic.

“Of course I own this shop...:” Zack grumbled to himself as he walked back into the familiar smell of motor oil and tires. “Can’t a guy with purple hair own a shop? Do I have to look like...like..Kerry fucking King?!”

Zack was not only one of the few pretty boys to have a shop of his own, he was the only pretty boy he knew who could also fix anything from a Harley to a BMW bike. He also knew he had to be the only bike mechanic on earth who did not ride. He didn’t own a bike, he didn’t own a car, he walked or took the bus, or sometimes got rides from friends. On one hand this made life pretty simple and all his profits could go right back into his shop and his living quarters upstairs. On the other hand people just didn’t seem to trust a mechanic that didn’t ride. It wasn’t like he had never been on a bike, but it had been years.

The one saving grace was that Zack was competent, he was fast, and he saw no need to bilk anyone for non-essential repairs. Despite looking like he was still fifteen, he was well into his twenties and even though he did not actively ride he understood the inner workings of bikes. He single handedly fixed them quickly and with no fanfare and they stayed fixed because he used quality parts, took his time and did not cut corners. Well, Brian’s bike never stayed fixed but that was because he insisted on riding drunk, and he was drunk a lot. He was the best customer Zack had.

There was one more bike to fix, but the owner worked late and wouldn’t be coming for it until seven at night so Zack took his time on it. Brian programmed video games by day and was a hacker for hire at night so he pretty much set his own hours. Zack had been on his own for a year now and was happy to be self sufficient after having to depend on his parents far longer than he had ever planned. He ran upstairs to his loft space, grabbed a premade sandwich and a soda, hurried back down lest he miss a potential customer, then ate quickly and got started on the bike.

Working straight through the afternoon, he finished the bike with thirty minutes to spare. He washed up and waited for the customer to arrive. The customer came in, paid, took the bike and Zack made about three hundred dollars in profit. This was added to the hundred and twenty five in profit he made from Brian (he always cut his friends a price break, even people like Brian who had more money than they knew what to do with most days). He closed up and decided to get something to eat. Some nights he was so tired it was all he could do to walk the stairs to his loft, throw a box in the microwave and eat before collapsing in bed. His freezer was full of frozen food, not the most nutritious thing on earth but Zack hadn’t put on weight since puberty so he couldn’t see a problem with it. Still tonight he felt like being waited on. Remembering what Brian said, he turned on the heater, both in the shop and upstairs, locked up, grabbed a jacket, set the alarm and set out on foot to find a place to eat.

Brian had actually been right, Zack mused as an icy cold wind, the first of the season, began to howl around the corners of the boulevard, making him put on his jacket and zip it all the way to the neck. Since he worked through dinner time, he could actually write this off as a business expense and he stopped inside a bar and grill several blocks down and treated himself to a steak and an imported beer, using his small business account card and making sure to get a receipt for his records. He had learned this tip from his dad.

A light rain had begun to fall and it was soothing to look at while he ate and glanced out through the restaurant windows, but maybe not so good to walk home in. He paid his check and opened the door, still lost in the mental debate on getting a cab or not. Little did he know it was about to be answered for him.

As he walked back out into the cold, which had somehow managed to get even colder while he had been inside, he tripped over something just outside the doorway. Looking down he let out a few choice curses before he saw it was a person he had tripped over.

“What the hell are you doing on the ground?!” The figure shrank back into the shadows, huddling closer against the building for warmth. It’s head was down and it was curled up, knees to it’s forehead, shivering in a thin t shirt and clutching a slim backpack. Zack stopped. “Hey, you alright?” There was no answer, Zack looked at the shirt. ‘...that’s a Vans shirt, it’s gotta be the kid I saw earlier.’ “Hey!” Zack tapped him on the shoulder and the kid looked up. His eyes were blackened and reduced to slits, blood had crusted from running his nose into his split lip. As Zack stared he could see cuts on his head as well. The blond buzz cut with the black splotches, he could see it now.

“Hey, what are you doing out here? Do you want me to call somebody for ya? Can I take you someplace?”

“Would I be out here in the fucking freezing cold if I had anywhere to go?!” The kid burst out, sounding on the verge of tears and ducking his head again. “Leave me alone, I’m fine. Go away.”

“Dude, no...” Zack closed his eyes, feeling guilt drop on heavily upon him. The boy didn’t seem to recognize him as the person who’d refused him help earlier or if he did, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. “You’re hurt and it’s freezing. When was the last time you had a meal?”

“Nineteen Ninety-fucking Seven! Go away! What do you care?”

“Ok comedian, I’m gonna pull you up so don’t fight me. I don’t mean to hurt you. Can you stand?”

“Seriously?” The kid’s teeth were chattering as he tried to answer, making him stutter. I just got nice and comfy down here.”

“I’m not leaving you here.” Zack leaned down, got a good grip on the kid’s skinny arms and pulled.

“Ow! Fuck, okay already, I’m getting up. I’ll find another corner.”

“No, I’m not shooing you away, I’m trying to get you out of the cold.”

“Hey....Mr. Hot Topic!” The kid grinned, looking Zack in the face for the first time. He slung the backpack over his shoulder but it obviously didn’t have much of anything in it by the way it floated weightlessly against him.

“That’s me. Normally we would walk but you don’t look like you can and I can’t carry you, though you look skinnier than I am and that’s saying something. I’ll get us a cab.”

“Where?”

“My garage.”

“Oh you wanna let me in now? Wow, that’s just great! Thanks.”

Zack held the kid up by the shoulder with one hand and hailed a cab with the other. He pulled the boy into the backseat with him and six minutes later he was back fumbling with his keys, trying to keep the boy on his feet and punch in his security code. He closed and locked the door behind them, flipped a switch and one fourth of the lights hummed to life. He could instantly tell the difference between the temperature inside and out and was glad he had put on the heat. The loft and garage were so big, he had really only planned on using a few space heaters, but had never gotten around to buying them. To run central heat would be expensive but for one or two nights it couldn’t hurt.

“Okay I’m gonna walk you over to the bathroom---.”

“Dude, you’re not gonna rape me, are you?”

“NO! I am not going to rape you! I need to wash you up---.”

“That sounds pretty dirty to me....”

“Yeah, okay it sounds awkward but you are covered in blood and dirt and I sweat I think I saw asphalt embedded in your head. It’s big enough, you can spend the night there. There’s a sink there, you’re right there if you have to pee, the door has a lock, and its small enough that it will heat up pretty quick. After I clean you up and bandage you, you can lock the door from the inside and go to sleep.” The kid didn’t reply so he walked him over to the bathroom, was careful to turn on the light first and then set him down as gently as he could. “Okay, stay here, I’ve gonna go get the first aid kit.”

“Yeah, like I’m in any shape to run anymore.”

Zack pulled the whole kit from the way some twenty feet away, dropped some quarters in the soda machine and pulled out a Coke, grabbed a roll of shop towels and returned to the bathroom.

“Here. Sorry I don’t have coffee.” He popped the top and held it out. “Drink some, I’ve got some aspirin here too. The kid took the can, his hands shaking and Zack could see his nails were ripped along the edges and the skin of his knuckles had been scraped off. “Looks like you gave a good fight at least.” The kid said nothing, gulping down a great deal of the soda before Zack gave him four aspirin. “Don’t worry about the floor being cold, I’ll get you something to sleep on. The boy took the aspirin and Zack unrolled the blue industrial use towels, tore off two and wet them in the sink after squirting some antibacterial soap on them. He then sank down on the concrete floor next to his guest.

“What’s your name? Mine’s Zack Baker.”

“Johnny. Just Johnny.”

“Okay Just Johnny, this is gonna hurt a little because you are dirty as shit.”

“You keep sounding like a porno.”

Johnny balled his hands into fists and tucked them tightly against his jeans and Zack set about trying to clean him up as quickly as possible. Through it all the kid said nothing.

“Okay, let that dry off and give me your hands.”

“What for?!”

“Ok, you can wash your hands yourself then.”

“......oh....” Johnny hesitated and then held out his hands and let Zack wash them with a wet towel.

“Okay here’s the deal. You can sleep here tonight. I’m gonna get you something to eat and something to sleep on.”

“So you wouldn’t let me in the door before, but now you’re just gonna leave me here?!”

“I’m sorry about that, I really am. I know you asked me for help earlier and I told you to get lost. I thought maybe you’d robbed somebody, I didn’t want to get involved. And I’m not really abandoning you, I live upstairs.”

“I stole a sandwich.”

“What?”

“The guy walked off and left it on his table and he was gone a long time. I thought he left it and I was just....I hadn’t had anything to eat but scraps all week---.”

“Scraps?” Zack interrupted.

“You know, from dumpsters.”

Zack swallowed, his heart falling further into his stomach.

“So fuck it, I figured someone would just come up and throw it away and hell I was just cutting out the dumpster part and taking care of it for them. But the guy came back, apparently he was just going outside to meet some friends. So I was busted. He wasnt very understanding.”

Zack gestured toward the kid.

“This was done over a fucking sandwich?”

“Yeah. It was almost worth it.”

Zack could feel himself wanting to cry. He started to pat Johnny’s leg and then thought better of it and turned away, swishing his mop of slanted two tone hair down across his face to hide his expression.

“Finish your soda. I’ll be right back.”

He stood up and started toward the far part of the garage where the stairs were almost completely hidden in shadow. He went first to the freezer upon unlocking the door, pulled out a macaroni and cheese dinner and three mini white Castle burgers, threw them in the microwave and set the timer. Here he was whining to himself about an electric he could easily afford to pay when this kid was eating out of trashcans. He then braved the clutter of the hall closet, rummaging until he found a sleeping bag he hadn’t used since a trip to Big Bear when he was 18. There was also a velour track suit someone in his family had given him for Christmas at some point that he would never wear in public if his life depended on it. However, it was warm and it looked about Johnny’s size. He went to the kitchen, took a trash back and threw these in, then went to his bedroom and snagged an extra pillow, stuffing it in before pulling up the drawstring on the bag. The microwave beeped and he took out food, wrapped it in paper towels and set it in a plastic grocery bag with loop handles Suddenly it didn’t look near enough. Opening up the cabinet he found granola bars, cupcakes, and some bagels he always intended to eat, but somehow always pushed aside in deference to cream cheese danish. This went into the bag too. He found a fork for the mac and cheese and glanced around to see if there was anything else. Something to drink! He opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water and another soda. Grabbing one bag in each hand he hurried back downstairs.

“Holy shit, you look like emo Santa!” Johnny laughed as Zack nudged the bathroom door open with his foot. “You didn’t have to do that. I could have fallen right asleep here on the floor. I sleep on the ground most nights, it’s all good.”

“No, it’s not. I’m not a Top Chef I’m afraid. Everything I eat is either in a package or frozen and ready to microwave in four minutes or less.. But I’ve got plenty of food so if you want more, I’ve got it, no sweat.” He handed over the grocery bag “I’m not a pervert, I swear, but you can’t sleep in dirty, damp clothes. You’re gonna get sick. I’ve got my washer and drier down here. If you can’t get up to put them in there yourself, just leave them outside the door and I’ll do it. You can keep the clohtes, you probably could you an extra set, or at least something warm.”

Johnny nodded, his eyes lighting up as he opening the container of mac and cheese.

“Okay, last thing, you’re not a drug addict are you?”

“Do I look like an addict?”

Zack looked him up and down before he responded.

“Is that a trick question?”

“No dude, I’m not an addict.”

“Then how’d you end up on the streets?”

“It’s safer out here than being at home. Trust me.”

“I’m sorry.” Zack mumbled. “Okay, there is nothing here you can steal, I lock up all my parts and tools, everything has an alarm on it. But I do have shit like carb cleaner, kerosine, paint thinner, shit like that. Don’t drink it, don’t huff it, got it?”

“I don’t do that shit!” Johnny’s voice was serious but he was still staring at the food like he’d just won the lottery.

“Good.” Zack turned back to the first aid kit. “Okay, got bedding in the other bag with the clothes. I’m gonna put some Neosporin on your face. If I tried to bandage every cut you’d look like the mummy.”

“The Mummy was fucking cool, dude! I liked Frankenstein better though.”

Zack grinned. “I’d love to stay down here and talk horror movies but I’ve got to get some sleep. Johnny stopped eating long enough for Zack to tend to his face and Zack went as fast as he could, feeling bad for keeping him from his food.

“Sure, sure. No, it’s great. Thank you.”

“When I lock up I’m gonna set the alarms. They work on motion sensors so stay away from the door and windows. Sleep all you want. You can keep the door shut and locked if you want. I can always go back up to my place to go to the bathroom tomorrow if you’re still asleep. I don’t usually start to get busy until eleven except on Friday and Monday. If you want, go ahead and change into the clothes, throw your stuff outside the door and I’ll dump it in the wash. Goodnight, Just Johnny. Sweet dreams.”

“Thanks for the food. Thanks for everything.” Johnny barely looked up as he finished the mac and cheese and grabbed for the burgers. It occurred to Zack that he would probably eat everything in the bag at once. He made a mental note to get groceries before he opened and order lunch delivered so he could take extra with him.

Zack stepped out of the bathroom and made sure everything was shut and locked up. He checked the temperature on the thermostat and turned it up another degree. He cut the light and set the alarm and as he turned around he heard the clothes hit the floor with a plop. He scooped them up and dropped them in the washer, adding extra soap and setting it on heavy like he did for his work clothes. With one more glance at the closed bathroom, fluorescent lights still flickering and shooting out a beam from the slit underneath, he turned and went up to his own apartment and to bed.

Chapter two

Zack awoke early the next morning, two hours before the shop was to open. He dressed warmly, made coffee to go and tiptoed downstairs. The light in the bathroom was out and the door was closed. He unarmed the alarm, slipped out and locked and armed everything again. Two streets down was a small grocery store where he shopped. With Johnny in mind he bought a box each of granola bars and oatmeal bars, then some cheese and crackers and peanut butter and crackers. He thought about fruit, but fruit was easily bruised and would spoil. That gave him the idea for dried fruit and he bought half a pound of that. He tried to think of something light and easy to carry that would not get damaged but there were few options. He bought small cans of vienna sausages and some beef jerky. When the bag started getting heavy to carry he knew it was enough, and didn’t want to weigh Johnny down, even if it was with food he clearly needed.

Johnny did not come out of the bathroom until after ten am, he walked out in the track suit and bare feet, glancing around apprehensively though no one was having anything repaired just yet.

“Hey, how’d you sleep?” Zack asked, coming out from behind a counter that held a computer, cash drawer, phone and credit card machine.

“Amazing. Thank you. Haven’t slept that hard in a while.”

“Your clothes are ready but you might want to throw your shoes in the dryer. Dry socks won’t help if your shoes are still wet.”

“Okay.” Johnny went back to get his sneakers. “You need any help or anything? You know, around here?” Johnny walked over to the dryer, pulled out his clothes, tossed the sneakers in and turned it on.

“Do you know anything about engines or gears?”

Johnny shook his head, looking down. “No but I can clean, I can put things away. I could probably learn how to assist you, what tools are what if you want to show me.”

“I’ll think about that. I went to the store and bought you a few things, food, snacks, stuff you can carry around that won’t go bad.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s all right. I wanted to. You seem like a good kid.”

“So where’s your bike?” Johnny looked around the shop as he spoke.

“Oh, I don’t ride.”

“You serious? That’s like teaching other people to play guitar when you yourself don’t play isn’t it?”

“More like building them, but yeah. Well I have before, a long time ago.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“That’s a very long story.” Zack sighed. “Not one for a day when customers could be coming in and out. Some night when ya can’t sleep, come by and I’ll tell ya. Where DO you usually sleep anyway?” Zack asked as Johnny’s shoes flopped around the dryer like fish on dry land

“Well about eight blocks behind here in the residential section there’s this guy who works from eleven at night. I start walking over at ten or so, wait for his lights to go off once he’s there, and then climb in the back of his pick up and sleep.”

“Does he know you do this?”

“No.” Johnny shrugged.

Zack shook his head in amazement at the risks he was taking.

“I wake up when the sun is overhead. I haven’t gotten caught yet.”

“Do you drink coffee? I got one of those fancy Keurig things. You’d be amazed how many bikers love lattes.”

“Hell yeah, I’ll take a coffee. Coffees are like three bucks apiece. I can never afford that!” Johnny followed Zack over to the corner next to a small waiting area. “So do you get any chicks coming in here?”

”Not that many so far. I’ve only been open for a year. I’ve waited on maybe three. You’d think I‘d get more, looking like a girl and all. I guess girls only want gay guys as their hair dressers, not their mechanics.”

Johnny opened his mouth, then closed it without answering as Zack unlocked a cabinet and took down and plugged in a compact coffee maker in metallic cherry red.

“Okay, caramel, cinnamon, hazelnut, mint or vanilla?”

“Uh...caramel?”

“Good choice. The hazelnut sucks but I’ve got a gang member that swears by it.”

“So do you make a lot doing this? You must. Look at this place! Did you go to school?”

“Well I’m trying to pay for the building so a lot of what I make goes back to the business loan, but I do okay. Especially since I live upstairs, I’m only paying one rent instead of two. I didn’t attend class, but I read all the books and taught myself, then went down, took the tests and go certified on each type of bike by the manufacturer. That took money to do, but now I make money because I have proof I can fix those bikes. “ Zack handed Johnny a styrofoam cup of cappuccino. “In about five years I’ll really be set.” He started a cup for himself. “How old are you, Just Johnny?”

“Twenty one!” Johnny stood up taller and stuck out his chin, taking a drink.

“The fuck you are! You look like you’re twelve!” Zack burst out laughing. “Seriously now, how old are you?”

“Nineteen!” Johnny insisted, only slightly less confidently.

“Let me see your driver’s license then.” Zack held out his hand.

Just then the door opened and in walked Zacks first customer of the day, an older man about the same age as Zack’s dad with 2001 F Series BMW bike. It was in need of a new fuel gauge, tank and exhaust. After approving Zack’s estimate he said he had a daughter with a Vespa scooter that needed and new clutch and an oil change, could he bring it by when he picked up the Beamer? Zack said that was fine and began to type up the work order for the customer to sign while Johnny stepped back into the shadows and tried to be inconspicuous. Zack estimated the BMW to be a four hour job. The man said he could come back after work at six pm, signed the paperwork and left.

Johnny stepped back from where the washer and dryer were kept, sneakers on his feet. He was holding the rest of his clothes.

“I guess I should get out of here, let you work. Johnny sounded deflated as he turned to the bathroom to get his backpack.

“You don’t have to go. I could show you a few things if you want.”

“Really?” Johnny whirled around, grinning.

“Sure, if you want. Never hurts to know how to fix things.”

“Okay, just let me clean up the bathroom in case someone else comes in.” In the doorway Zack could see Johnny folding the sleeping bag, putting the food in the backpack along with his clothes and stacking the pillow on top of the sleeping bag and his backpack on top of the pillow. Zack set out unlocking all the different drawers of tools and parts, got on the phone and put in an order for the parts he’d need to be delivered and threw a drop cloth on the nearly spotless concrete floor. He wheeled the bike over on it and circled it, holding a wrench.

“Pretty close.” Zack said eyeing the machine up and down, continuing to prowl around it. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. Since you don’t know the parts yet, I’m gonna take each thing off and drop it in a pan of degreaser. You shake the pan up, take each part, wipe it off, make sure all the gunk is cleaned out, and put it on the other side of the drop cloth according to size. What I need, once the other parts get here, I’ll put back, the rest I’ll show you where to put it for scrap.” Zack returned to the cabinet from where he’d taken the Keurig and pulled out a satellite radio receiver, turned it to a classic metal station, the unlocked more cabinets, producing the degreaser and sat it and a bowl down on the floor. Johnny poured the degreaser in until the bowl was half full and Zack crouched down next to the bike, beginning to strip off the parts. An hour later the two of them were ankle deep in nuts and bolts and screws. The air was a mixture of heat from the central unit on the roof and cold from the half open bay door, heavy with the astringent tang of cleaner and solvent.

“That is the GAYEST track suit I have ever seen!”

Both Johnny and Zack snapped to attention to find Zack’s pal Brian bundled up in a Jack Skellington skull cap and matching scarf and leaning on the counter. Zack and Johnny both sod up, working the kinks from their legs and eyeing Brian.

“Holy shit, dude. What happened to your face? It’s the tracksuit isn’t it? Isn’t there like gay fashion police or anything? Gay eye for the gay tracksuit wearing guy?”

“You wouldn’t stop two guys from trying to kill me even though I asked for your help! That’s what happened!” Johnny snapped.

“Oh shit, that was you? I didn’t know you knew Zack.”

“I don’t.” Johnny pushed past Brian to retrieve his pack from just inside the bathroom door.

“Hey, its alright! He’s not gonna hurt you or anything. You don’t have to go.” Zack wiped his hands on a towel and took a step toward Johnny.

“Thanks for your help and the food. Thank you. Just for giving a shit.” Johnny hurried out the front door, down the street without looking back. Brian said nothing, his expression showing he knew he must have done something wrong but was at a loss to figure what.

“I...I didn’t come to start trouble. Matt wiped out last night coming off the freeway at first street.”

“What?! Shit, is he okay??”

“He didn’t have to go to the hospital but the gun shop will have to do without him for a few days. He’s not gonna be able to get out of bed for a while. He’s scraped all to hell and sore as fuck. He’ll be okay though. He wanted to see if you’d look at his bike. I brought it over in the back of his truck.”

“Well I’ve got two customers ahead of him, but of course I’ll look at it.”

“What’s the story with the kid?” Brian nodded to the door.

“Those guys chasing him? They were chasing him because he took a sandwich they had left on their table that he didn’t think they were coming back for. He’d been eating out of a dumpster for two days and an abandoned sandwich was just too tempting.”

Brian said nothing, stunned. Finally he bit his lip and slipped a lock of hair back under his cap.

“Fuck. Well, I’m gonna bring in the bike.”

There wasn’t much Zack could do in the interim fifty seconds or so it took Brian to pull down the crashed bike and wheel it in, but he started Brian some cofee anyway.

“Jesus!” Zack swore as he saw the bike. “Is Matt really okay? Be honest.”

“Dude, he’s gonna be fine. I wouldn’t lie to you, unless you asked me if I was drunk, then I probably would, though I’m not now.” Brian grinned and accepted the cup of coffee. “I can take you to see him if you want.”

“Nah.” Zack sighed. “I got too much to do here right now. Just let him know I asked.”

“Back to the kid? Is he helping you out now?”

“Eh, I don’t know.” Zack shrugged. “I went out to Molly’s after I saw you, got steak and a pint of Guiness. I’m leaving and the kid is there laying in the doorway, it’s freezing cold and raining, the kid has no jacket, just that t shirt he was in yesterday---”

“Oh shit! The gay tracksuit! That was yours?!” Brian started laughing and nearly choked on his coffee.

“Yeah, it’s okay, it was ugly! Why do you think I gave it to someone else?! But fuck man, it’s warm, you know? So he spent the night in the garage. We talked a little, I got him cleaned up, gave him a bunch of food. I just felt so bad. He’s seems like an okay kid. He was sort of hinting about asking for a job but I have no idea how old he is and he’d never worked on a bike before. I just felt bad, dude. That could have been any of us, any time.”

“Hey!! Speaking of that!! I think they’re letting Jimmy out of jail next week---If he doesn’t fuck

w/ anyone else. I’ve been pleading with him to please, please please just behave and do what they tell him . I really think if he fucks up again, they’re just gonna lock his ass in the state hospital.”

Zack shook his head emphatically at the thought.

“I’ve known too many kids that ended up there. They weren’t even crazy when they went in, but they were fucking insane, like bat shit crazy when they came out because of the drugs they gave ‘em.”

“I think Jimmy’s actually trying to get in FOR the drugs. You know, it IS free.”

Zack slapped his forehead with his palm.

“Words fail me. Tell him to chill the fuck out. I got you drinking, Matt crashing, Jimmy in jail and a homeless kid I think I wanna adopt.”

“Good luck with that. Don’t trust these street kids, you’ll end up with your kidneys taken out or some shit.” Brian glanced out the door. “You know Matt doesn’t like anyone driving his truck so I’d better get it back before he thinks I wrecked it. I’ll tell him you’re worried about him.”

“Don’t make it sound so gay.”

“But it is.”

“That is COMPLETELY beside the point.” Zack laughed and Come on man, you know Matt, piss him off and you’ll get the silent treatment for months.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll catch ya later.” Brian waved as he walked out the door. As Brian walked out the delivery guy walked in with the parts for the BMW. Zack signed for them and then risked a few moments staring at Matt’s wrecked Kawasaki. At least it wasn’t the Harley Matt kept saying he’d buy one day, to wreck a Harley was damn near unforgivable. He’d text Matt later, not wanting to wake him if he’d managed to get some good pain killers. He took a breath and went back to work on the BMW. He worked through lunch like he usually did if he was busy, taking his time and not rushing, making sure every part was cleaned and put back in place, tightened as much as it could be before moving on to the next.

The sun had gone down just as he finished. It was now freezing and he closed the bay door entirely to keep warm. With one job done he could start to catalog the repairs on Matt’s bike. One fender was gone, the frame was bent as was the rim of the front tire, there was a hole in the radiator and the gear shift was hanging loose. Zack could feel his breath catch in his throat just looking at it. The opening of the front door made him jump and the customer with the BMW came to retrieve it and bring in his daughter’s Vespa. He paid with a platinum credit card and even insisted on giving Zack a tip. As soon as he was gone Zack began preparing to close. When he was sure no one else was coming in, he turned off the lights and texted Matt.

Instantly his cell rang.

“Hey.” Matt sounded groggy but it was still good to hear his voice.

“Are you okay? What happened? I got your bike by the way. I’ve got one repair before it and its going to need some welding, sanding, a new fender and new gear shift....are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’ve been hurt a lot worse. I was exiting last night and this dick didn’t yield to me. My head wasn’t really in the game and I didn’t realize it until I had to swerve hard to keep from hitting him. Asshole didn’t even stop to see if I was okay, but if he had I would have beat his ass anyway. I’m hurt but nothing’s broken.”

“It’s good to hear your voice.”

The other end of the line was silent, Zack had no idea if this confession pleased him or not.

“Brian said you were worried. It’s okay. I’ll be laid up a few days. Already got the time off from the shop. I’m gonna be all right.”

“Good, I’m glad. I’m locking up so I’ll let you get some sleep. Thanks for calling.”

“Thanks for asking about me. “ Matt hung up without further conversation.

Zack felt his heart swell a bit, then deflate. He took a look around, locked the door and closed out the register. Almost no one paid cash these days so there was nothing to deposit, just get the credit card transactions sent to the bank and the numbers reset for the next day. Zack was still thinking of Matt when the bite of cold from under the bay doors broke his reverie as he clicked the locks in place. Where was Johnny? Had he found a place to stay? Zack walked over to the door, opened it and peered down the street. He looked right and just as he was about to turn left he bumped into someone.

“Dude!! I was just thinking about you. You got a place to stay tonight?”

“Not really. You said when you had time you’d tell me the story of why you don’t ride bikes. I figured maybe I could come back after hours and.....well fuck, I’m freezing and I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Zack found himself smiling and stepping back to let Johnny enter. Johnny was still wearing the ugly powder blue warm ups, still clutching his back pack.

“Okay we’re gonna do something a little different tonight. I’ve got two bikes down here. I can’t let you stay down here with them. I just...I don’t know you and I can’t risk it. As he talked he put up the radio and the coffee maker. “So, would you be willing to leave your backpack and the jacket----because it has pockets---down here and come spend the night on my couch? I don’t have much steal and you can only fit so much in your crotch. So I’m protected and you’re not tempted.”

Johnny looked at Zack carefully for a moment, seeming to take a while to process what Zack had just said.

“I wouldn’t steal from you, but I’m not about to turn down a warm place to stay. That’s fine.” He sat his backpack on the counter and unzipped the jacket and took it off revealing another ratty t shirt underneath.

“Cool! The sleeping bag is still in the bathroom. Go ahead and grab it and follow me.” Zack set the bottom alarm and headed for the stairs. “You didn’t have to go. I wouldn’t have let Brian start shit with you.”

“I know, I was just pissed off. He could have helped and he didn’t. I mean, I can’t blame him, but still.....I just didn’t want to be around him.”

“I can understand that.”

“I was embarrassed I couldn’t take care of myself. He probably thinks I’m a faggot.” Johnny tried to bite back the word and it left his mouth as a bit of a question. “Wow, this place is huge!” Johnny marveled as they stepped from the landing into Zack’s loft.

“It just looks this way because I don’t have any furniture.” Zack laughed, ignoring what Johnny clearly didn’t mean to say.. The space was big. He had a futon couch in the middle and a tv against one wall. The rest of the loft was open space aside from the kitchen and the door to Zack’s bedroom. There was a skylight, but that was the only natural light in the place. Zack had purchased several floor lamps and installed them each with a different color of bulb: red, green and blue. There was one lamp at the furthest corner that cast regular white light. The walls were brick, painted in vivid flourishes of paint that looked more at home on boxcars targeted by taggers than someone’s home. Zack could tell by the look on Johnny’s face that he was mesmerized. “Sorry, never got around to getting a table or chairs because I either eat on the couch or downstairs at the shop while I’m working. If I have people over they don’t mind sitting on the floor.” The floor was unfinished concrete, covered over with the type of novelty rugs you’d see for sale in empty parking lots. There were baseball team logos and motorcycles of differing brands and makes and an Angry Birds one just outside the bedroom door. “The couch isn’t huge or anything, but you can make it into a bed and it’s comfortable.” The couch was actually a black futon with a red mattress that went well with the oddly comical and spartan look of the place. “ So, you wanna know my life story, huh?”

“Yeah, I do.” Johnny smiled but he was still looking around. “You could like, split this off into three other rooms.”

“Yeah, but I like the space.”

“Yeah, reminds me of a club. I bet you have some killer parties.”

“Sometimes. Since I can’t really go out and....I don’t actually have an oven yet....want me to order us a couple of pizzas? I mean we could microwave stuff, but my microwave is small so we’d each have to wait...”

“Dude, those are like the sweetest words in the English language! Of course I wanna order a pizza.” Johnny continued to wander around, looking at the art on the walls and floor.. “I feel like I’m in a museum!”

“Go ahead and sit down. Pepperoni, beef and bacon okay?”

“Yeah, yeah! Totally. I’m no vegan, man!”

“Perfect. Just have a seat. You’re making me nervous. Turn on the tv. As soon as the food gets here I’ll tell you why I don’t ride and how I came to own this shop.” Zack made the call and sat down next to Johnny on the futon.

“Okay, you first.”

“What?” Johnny looked panicked.

“if I’m gonna be up front with you and honest and tell you my life story, you need to do the same. How old are you? And don’t lie!”

“I’m seventeen.”

“Wow...shit.”

“I can work though, I’ve had a work permit since I was fifteen.”

“Did you finish school?”

“No. Did you?”

“Yeah, with my folks it really wasn’t an option. Plus, the baseball team needed me too much, I couldn’t quit.”

“My folks didn’t care.”

“That why you split?”

“Dude, they were fifteen when they had me, and that’s cool, that’s fine, shit happens. But they never grew up. They never wanted to stop being fifteen. My house is like, someone’s house when they’re folks go out of town only my folks aren’t kids, they’re my folks.” Johnny stuck a finger in his mouth, grabbed on to the edge of a fingernail by his teeth and began to nibble it down. “Sorry.” He said when he saw Zack staring at him. “Sometimes you can trick your stomach into thinking it’s food. It’s a habit, can’t stop.”

“Dude, it’s cool, it’s not big deal.” Zack fell silent, waiting to see if Johnny divulged anything else. Finally he spoke.

“So yeah, like, I like to drink as much as anyone, but there were times in my house where that’s all there was, like no food, no milk, no nothing but vodka. They’d have these wild parties, trash the place, then beat the shit out of me the next day if I didn’t clean it up by the time they woke up from being passed out. I’ve walked in on shit you never ever wanna see your parents doing. If I wanted to live with a bunch of thugs I could have joined a gang. It would have paid better.”

“I’m sorry. I would have left too.”

“That’s it. That’s all there is to tell. Why talk about it and bring it up again? It just makes you think about it and get pissed off all over again and you can’t do shit. When I left I called the cops and left an anonymous tip that they were dealing. Which they were, I just don’t know what exactly. I never looked back.”

“Any brothers or sisters?”

“Probably, the way they both fucked around, but none I know personally.”

“Shit, I forgot I set the alarm downstairs. Let me go down and wait for the pizzas. I’ll be back as soon as they’re up.” He stopped halfway to the door and turned around. “Thank you for being honest.”

“Thanks for feeding me and not trying to rape me.”

Zack nodded thoughtfully and continued down to the shop.

Chapter Three

It took about ten more minutes for the pizza to arrive, Zack gave the delivery guy the entire tip he was given, even though it was twenty dollars more than the pizzas. He figured it was good for karma. He then locked and set the alarms again and took the pizzas upstairs. Johnny was sitting on the couch, the tv on to ESPN.

“God that smells good. And I never get to watch tv, not a whole lot of rec rooms in the shelters.”

“Did you try foster care at all?” Zack asked, dropping the boxes n the second hand coffee table that was made out of a surfboard.

“There’s a reason why I keep asking if you’re going to try and rape me.”

“Okay dude, that’s horrible. I feel so bad even asking you stuff because every answer is worse than the last. I am so sorry.”

“I do okay out here. I just miss eating sometimes.”

“No worries about that here. I was pretty chunky at one time but..” He handed Johnny some napkins and sat down next to him. “Okay I guess it’s time for my story. Dig in.” Johnny waited for him to take a slice so he did and then Johnny followed suit, a little sigh of pleasure escaping his lips.

“I’ve known Brian since high school, he was alway into riding, I was more into sports but he convinced me to get a bike and I got one for high school graduation. It wasn’t anything special, a 2009 Honda, but it ran really well. I was driving one day on a two way road with ditches on either side. An eighteen wheeler was coming from the opposite direction toward me, but that was fine. However there was another truck, a smaller truck behind it, the kind that delivers sodas or beer with the panel sides that slide up. It decided the semi was going too slow so it was going to pass it in a no passing area. He started coming right at me. He wouldn’t go back behind the 18 wheeler. There was nothing the 18 wheeler could do without rolling over or jack knifing. I thought--and the thoughts happened so quickly yet were so fully formed it was like everything around me was slow motion. i thought “Either he’ll hit me and send me right into the semi head on. I’ll die instantly. Or maybe he’ll clip me and I’ll go under the wheels. Maybe it will only crush my legs. Maybe I could live, but then maybe it would crush my chest. I couldn’t imagine how much that would hurt, and the funeral and not having an open casket. So I thought maybe I could skirt around it somehow. I wasn’t just going to willingly drive off the edge, I just couldn’t do it. Fuck, we need something to drink.” Zack got up, taking a breath and going into the kitchen.

“Jesus, dude! What happened?” Johnny looked up and accepted the can of soda.

“The guy in the smaller truck clipped me sent me over the edge, I don’t even know how far down. Again I was trying to figure out, should I hold on to the bike, will it hurt if it falls on me? It felt like I was falling forever, luckily I don’t remember landing. My last thought was that I was going to die and it would break my mom’s heart.” Zack sighed, took a bite and set down his pizza on a napkin on the table. “I woke up in the hospital, on morphine, I had landed on my side and thank god I was wearing a helmet or I’d been braindead. Everything was broken. I did not get out of that bed for a whole year.”

“I am so sorry. That’s awful. How did you do it?”

“By the time I woke up, my folks already had a lawyer. The driver was clearly at fault. I was so scared about the hospital bills, bankrupting my folks, so much to deal with. But the suit was settled out of court, I can't say what company the driver worked for, that was part of the deal. Thank god it covered my medical expenses, four surgeries in a year plus physical therapy to learn to walk and use my hand again. I started studying in the hospital, studying mechanics guides, I couldn’t do shit else. I figured life was too damn short. I came out of the closet to my folks---what the fuck could they do anyway? Kick me out? I couldn’t fucking get out of bed.”

“Dude, I would have killed myself.”

“I thought about it. If they had said straight off that it would be a full year in bed I would have tried. But it was like ‘ok we’re going to do surgery on your wrist. You’ll recover in three weeks’. Three weeks later, ‘okay we’re gonna do surgery on your leg to put that bone back together and put in some pins.’ Two months later ‘Ok your gallbladder was ruptured, let’s just take that out.’. Before I knew it a year had gone by.”

“Wow.”

“We got money from the suit but after we paid the lawyers and paid all my medical bills there wasn’t a whole lot left over. Not that it mattered, bankrupting my parents was the thing that worried me most. But sitting there in the hospital I started thinking “What if I can’t walk again?” What could I do for a living on crutches or in a chair. So I decided I wanted to fix bikes. My folks helped me out when the time came, once I’d passed all the exams and graduated mechanics school. We paid a down payment on this space with the lawsuit money and they fronted the cost of tools, furniture, etc. We kept money back, my mom was so afraid that if I could not get my own insurance right off something might happen to me again, so we kept some back for emergencies like that. I have now paid them back one fourth of what they fronted me. In five years, between paying them and paying the rest of the loan, I’ll own it outright.”

“Wow, that is fucking amazing!”

Zack smiled.

“So you can’t ride? You walk just fine. I mean, on TV Dr. House rides and he has a damn cane.” Johnny reached for his second slice of pizza while Zack was still nibbling at his first, all the memories dulling his appetite.

“Physically I probably could but I’ll never know. If I get close enough to do anything other than fix it, if I straddle one, try to start it, I panic. I feel myself falling off over the side of that ravine, flying through the air, having no idea when I was coming down or if I’d survive. For the longest time I had to be medicated just to get in a car or taxi. I’m better about that now, but I’ll never drive myself I’m afraid.”

“Don’t give up. You’ll beat it one day.”

“Or I’ll just get so rich I’ll hire a driver.”

“I’ll be your driver.”

“Ok, Just Johnny you got a deal.” Zack stuck the rest of the slice of pizza in his mouth.

“So how many guys have you been with?”

Zack nearly choked on his intake of breath.

“How many guys have YOU been with?!” He countered.

“I, uh, I ...well..I never...not really...shit! Why are you asking?”

“Why are YOU asking? You don’t just say that to someone you don’t know!”

“But I know you.” Johnny looked like he was going to pout.

“Yeah, two whole days. We are on the road to being friends but we ain’t there yet, pal. Not to where I can tell you who I sleep with.”

“Fair enough.”

Zack nudged him and handed him the remote. “I got HBO. Find a good movie for us to watch.”

Johnny smiled broadly.

“I miss tv, it’s not the homeless shelters have rec rooms.”

Johnny found a movie and they sat side by side watching until the end.

“If you want anything else from the kitchen help yourself. Oh.” Zack snapped his fingers. “I’ll bet you want a shower. Again it’s really stripped down, no tub and no sink b/c I figured I could wash my hands at the kitchen sink and sometimes my legs hurt getting up and down so no baths. But yeah, I got a shower and soap and towels. So knock yourself out. Just do it before I got to sleep cuz you have to go through my bedroom to get there.”

“Okay, I’ll do that now. God, thank you. You have been the coolest guardian angel I have ever met.”

Zack felt himself blushing. He let Johnny have his privacy and waited out in the living room for him to finish showering. Twenty minutes later he came out in just the sweat pants, toweling off his chest and arms.

“Would you like me to put some more anti bacterial stuff on your face?” Zack asked, knowing fully well Johnny could do it himself at this point.

“Sure.” Johnny shrugged.

Zack went to get some more Neosporin from his bathroom, he kept a lot around because there was always something lying in wait to scrape off his skin in the shop. When he came back Johnny had spread the sleeping bag on the futon.

“Here, let me show you how to pull it down.” Zack gave a tug to the back and the mattress fell flat with a clatter.

“Cool.”

He and Johnny sat down on the edge, Johnny turned his face to Zack and closed his eyes, exhibiting far more trust than Zack would have if it had been reversed. Gently Zack slid his fingers over Johnny’s skin, not even touching the parts where it was broken but letting the gel be the cushion between Johnny’s cuts and the pads of his fingertips. He resisted the urge to kiss Johnny’s forehead when he finished. He could not understand the pull towards him, like they had known each other far longer and already had a history together.

“All done.”

Johnny opened his eyes and smiled.

“I meant what I said about staying up all night if you wanted and watching tv. Whenever you wake up, get something to eat and if you want, come downstairs and I”ll try and show you some basics. If you want, I still have my books, you could just hang out and read. If you wanted, I’m not trying to push you into anything.”

“Dude, no one else is bending over backward to hire someone with no permanent residence. I’m not much for reading, it’s beter if you just show me things.”

“Sure.”

“So your big friend with the bike, does he know you like guys?”

Zack tilted his head to the side, wondering how Johnny could possibly know about Matt.

“The guy with the long black hair that’s a dick?”

“Oh Brian. That’s Brian. And yes, I did tell him a while back that I liked guys.”

“What happened? How’d he react?”

“Oh I screwed up all my courage to tell him and he laughed at me. So I punched him in the face. After that we were good.”

“Holy shit, dude. You’re my hero.” Johnny grinned.

“You like guys then?”

“I’m …..not really sure.”

“That’s cool.” Zack patted him on the back. “You’ve got your whole life to find out. Okay, I’m going to bed. Finish the pizza if you want.”

“Goodnight Zack.”

“Goodnight.” Zack took Johnny’s towel and went to his bedroom, closed and locked the door.

Chapter Four

Zack woke at he the usual time and tip toed into the livingroom. The tv was still on with the sound down and Johnny was asleep in a lump on the futon mattress, covers up to his ears. Zack was going to make coffee there but decided to take some bullets for the K Cup machine and just have breakfast in the shop to save waking Johnny up. He had almost made it to the door when Johnny sat up in bed, throwing off bedding in all directions.

“Hey, wait up! I’ll go with you!”

“You don’t have to. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

“No, I want to help.” Johnny hopped out of bed, snapped the futon back in place and stretched.

“Okay, cool. Well let me get you some coveralls because there’s no sense getting what little clothes you have all greasy.” Zack was wearing black coveralls with the BMW logo on the breast pocket and baby blue trim. He pulled one out for Johnny and brought it to the living room.

“Here, it should fit okay because these things are meant to be baggy anyway. I bought half a dozen of these when I passed my test to fix BMW bikes.” He held it out to Johnny who took it with great trepidation.

“Are you sure? I... I haven’t earned it. I have no idea how to fix a BMW bike.”

“It’s okay.” Zack smiled, going back to put on coffee. “No one will know the difference. When a customer comes in you can just fade in the background and when they leave I’ll start showing you stuff. When you finally know what you’re doing you can hang out up front with me and field questions if you want.” Zack pulled out a box of cheese danish he’d bought in bulk from Wal Mart.

“Oh my god, I love these things! I used to beg outside a gas station. Everyone thought it was going for drugs but it was really going for the 79 cent cheese danish!”

Zack started laughing. “I feel the same way. When I was in the hospital I was supposed to be eating healthy and having fruit and oatmeal for breakfast but I’d have Brian sneak these in to me.” They both tore open a package and began to eat as the coffee brewed. “I’ve got a scooter that’s going to be pretty easy, I’ll walk you through that. Matt’s bike is a mess. There’s a lot to replace. If it’s slow, I’ll start walking you through that, but if not you’ll have to leave me to it.”

“Okay.”

“I know you said you didn’t want to read but I’ll need you to look at a list of parts and get familiar with them. I’ll show you that in a book. Then we’ll get started on the Vespa.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t have to hang out here all the time. I mean if you have friends or somewhere you like hanging out.”

“There’s no place but on the streets, no one I know that I hang out with by choice. You see the same people in the food lines at the churches and shit, maybe once in awhile you’ll know the person in the next bunk at the shelter. You can’t have friends out here. Most kids out here...” Johnny sighed. “They’ve been through so much, all they know is to steal and run. And you can’t blame them, but you can’t get close to them either. Either that or they’re already hooked on drugs and you just know someday soon they’re gonna die, one way or another.” Johnny reached for the coffee pot to pour a cup as soon as it stopped brewing. “What about you, man? What do you do for fun?” He poured both he and Zack a cup and Zack took out the milk and sugar.

“Since I got out of the hospital? Not much. No time. All the time trying to get the shop off the ground and get myself back to normal. I’ve had a few parties. My friend Jimmy is getting out of jail real soon though, I’m definitely having a party for that.”

“Yeah?” Johnny opened up another danish, took a bite, then washed it down with coffee and breathed a contented sigh.

“Yeah, he went to jail while I was still in the hospital. He hasn’t seen this place at all, I am so excited to show it to him.”

“What’d he do?”

“Well, Jimmy’s....” Zack tapped the side of his head. “he’s not wired like you or me. That’s not a bad thing really, but it’s how it is. He can’t stand authority: cops, adults, parents, bosses, he can’t deal with that stuff. He’s not a bad guy and he’d never hurt another person unless they hurt him first and only then if they caught him on a bad day. But...Jimmy also has some problems with drugs.”

“Oh....” Johnny looked away.

“You know what a mad scientist is, right? Like Dr. Frankenstein?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Johnny looked back up.

“Jimmy’s like that. Normal people take drugs to feel the way Jimmy feels every day of his life normally. Jimmy takes drugs so that once in awhile, he’ll feel like you or me and can turn off the shit in his head long enough to have a conversation or get some sleep.”

“Wow.” Johnny took a deep drink of coffee and then looked unsettled once more. “I’m not taking his place, am I?”

“What do you mean?” Zack frowned.

“Here at your house, in your shop? I’m not taking up a place that would have gone to him, am I? I don’t want to be in the way or take anything away from anyone.”

“Oh no. He’ll be staying with Brian. Brian’s the only one of us who can sort of keep him reined in. Brian is one of the few people Jimmy will listen to and will sort of calm down around. So, no, don’t worry about that. As amazing as he’d probably be at fixing bikes, I think Brian’s going to set him up fixing computers for the clients who buy his software. When he’s not hacking them.”

Johnny gulped, a bit of coffee spilling on the counter.

“You didn’t hear that from me though. God I hope he doesn’t teach Jimmy to hack. The world would not be safe.” Zack slapped him on the back. “Drink up, we can get more downstairs.”

Johnny nodded, downing the last of his coffee and following Zack out. Zack locked up behind them and then set to disengaging all the locks and alarms and turning on lights. Once everything was open he turned to the cabinets, unlocked one and pulled out a thick book. He opened it to a basic index of motorcycle parts and handed it to Johnny.

“Okay, study that. I’m gonna start calling in orders for parts on Matt’s bike. When I’m done we are going to do the oil change together and then I’m gonna show you how to put in the clutch. It’s pretty easy stuff. I’ll show you and then I’ll let you do it yourself. I’m not going to expect you to remember every single thing over night but if we keep at it and do it every day, something’s gotta stick.”

“Every day?”

“Yeah.”

“I can stay?”

“Yeah, I want you to stay. I’m not the richest guy on earth, but I’ve got food and plenty of room. I’ve never done much in trying to fix up the loft. I still need to make an outside entrance so I won’t have to deactivate the shop security every time someone comes over. You can start out on the futon and then I’ll see what I can do to get you something better to sleep on.”

“Dude, the futon is great, the futon is perfect! I just....” Johnny stuck his hands deep into the pockets of the bulky coveralls. “I don’t know what to say. This is literally a dream come true. A safe place to stay is all I’ve ever wanted, but to stay with someone cool like you and learn....this and hear stories about your friends.....I don’t....you can’t imagine....I haven’t done anything to deserve this.”

“Yes, you have. Trust me.” Zack smiled, resisting the urge to hug him or run a hand down his arm. “Okay, read and learn and I’m gonna make those phone calls.”

If Johnny had any problems reading or understanding, Zack was not aware. He caught on, was able to do everything Zack showed him, and started to name some parts by sight just minutes after learning them. The day passed at a steady pace. Zack didn’t break for lunch and he got the idea that Johnny would rather die than ask for a break of any kind. He closed the shop a little early when no new business came in and

“I know some GED courses you can take online if you want. I don’t think you have to have it to get certified in any of the mechanic courses, but I’ll check. I have a laptop I hardly ever use. It’s got a lot of gay porn on it.”

Johnny laughed.

“Yeah, sure. If you want me to I will. You can’t really study when you’re sleeping in people’s doorways and the shelters are so fucking loud.”

“Shit, I can imagine.”

Johnny followed him upstairs and they microwaved a large tray of lasagna and had ice cream for dessert. They watched pro wrestling on television and even though Johnny claimed to have outgrown it when he was ten, he was soon cheering and calling out the moves before they were made.

“Yes, yes! Dragon screw leg whip! Into the submission! GIve, bitch! Give!!”

Zack watched him, trying not to grin outright, afraid Johnny would think he was being laughed at and not that Zack felt so good just to see him happy.

“Okay, I’m going to bed.” Zack stood and stretched.

“Do you still get sore, from the injuries? From your accident?”

Zack sighed.

“Yeah. I do. I don’t talk about it, no one really asks but my folks and I don’t want them to worry. It’s not bad, it’s just.....I sort of feel like I’m already an old man.”

“You don’t have to worry about being cool with me. If you have to go to sleep early, or you need to take a break when we’re working or you just need me to do shit for you, run errands, go get stuff from places that you’d have to walk a long way to get to, I can do that for you. It’s not a problem. I’m just saying cuz I get the idea your friends can be dicks and I’m not like that. I’m not gonna make fun of you if you just wanna call it a night early or... you know, whatever.”

Zack could not help the smile that broke across his face as his heart beat just a little faster.

“Thank you. That’s the nicest thing I’ve been told in a long time.”

Johnny waved him on and told him goodnight and Zack put the dishes in the sink and went to bed. As Zack fell asleep he was already trying to figure out how to make Johnny his own little living space within the the loft.

When Zack woke up the next morning Johnny already had the coffee brewing and had heated up some cinnamon rolls in the microwave.

“Can I shower?” Johnny asked as Zack walked up to the kitchen counter and grabbed a roll off the paper towel that caught the dripping icing.

“Yeah, sure. Bring down the towels and we’ll wash them downstairs.” Zack looked around. “We really need to do some shopping. I never got a table, you need socks and underwear...”

“I’m okay!” Johnny called over his shoulder.

Matt was the one with the truck but he was still recovering and Zack wasn’t going to disturb him. Maybe furniture could wait but they did need groceries and Johnny did need clothes. But now there was an extra set of hands to carry bags and legs to walk home with him. Zack smiled and poured them each a cup of coffee. Before long Johnny was back, hauling laundry behind him. They ate a quick sugar filled breakfast and went down to open the shop. Zack worked alone on Matt’s bike while Johnny poured over Zack’s old textbooks. A Honda was brought in for an oil change and a Suzuki needed shocks. Zack walked Johnny through the oil change that Johnny was able to do mostly on his own and tended to the Suzuki himself. By the end of business Matt’s bike was fixed. Johnny was cleaning up and Zack was preparing to close out the register when Brian came in smiling.

“Hey man, tell Matt his bike’s done. It’s gonna be about $800.”

“I’ll tell him its a grand, I know you never actually charge us what you’re supposed to and if you’re barely charging me over cost, you’re probably taking a loss for him. He can pay, we’re not beggars.” He then glanced at Johnny and flushed with shame for a moment. “Hey! Great news! Jimmy’s gonna be out in two days!”

“Oh my god!” Zack dropped the rag he was wiping his hands on and ran up to Brian. “That is the best news! But shit, I don’t have time to plan a party.”

“Well that’s why I’m coming by. I was thinking. You probably don’t need a lot of people you don’t know coming in and out of the shop. Why don’t we do the big party at my place and have a smaller gathering, just us, at yours? Is that okay?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m just....wow, it’s happening so fast! But I’m happy! Yeah, sure, have it at your place and we’ll do something small here, rent some of Jimmy’s favorite movies and get lots of booze and yeah....it’ll be great.”

“I’ll bring Jimmy here as soon as he’s out. I know you want him to see your place. And as soon as you close we’ll send someone for you or I’ll try to come myself.”

“Does Matt know?”

“Not yet. He’ll know soon enough and I’ll tell him about the bike. So he’ll be paying you a visit too.” Brian grinned. “Bring your apprentice.” He nodded to Johnny.

“Oh..no..that’s okay. You don’t have to invite me. I could, uh, watch the shop.” Johnny stammered.

“It’s all right, man. You’re Zack’s friend, I’m Zack’s friend. It’s all good. You’re one of us now.” As Brian turned back to Zack Johnny looked so happy he practically glowed. “Okay I got stuff to do. See ya day after tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

Zack turned back to Johnny. “Okay tonight we’re good but tomorrow after work we have to go shopping. And as you know I don’t have a car. If I’m really and truly out of everything, I take a cab across town to the Mega Super WalMart. But Christ that place is big. I get tired about half way through. There’s a place about five or six blocks. Go with me and help me carry the stuff back?”

“Of course.” said Johnny.

That night Zack made hot dogs and they watched horror movies on Netflix and ate Oreos and milk before bed.

Chapter Five

Zack’s first customer of the day came limping in and anyone could tell he was a man not accustomed to limping. Matt was tall, tan and muscular. He stood slightly taller than Brian who was a good head taller than Zack, which mean he towered over Johnny. His hair was cut close in a high and tight military fade and Johnny could not tell what color it was from the white Under Armor baseball cap he was wearing, but Zack knew it was brown and Matt never let it get below his ears. Matt had been raised in a strict Southern Baptist family that prized country, service, and manifest destiny. He idolized Ronald Reagan and Ted Nugent and had been a member of the NRA since he was ten. His dream job had been to join the military for the sole purpose of killing things for sport that fought back more than deer and javelinas, but when he turned seventeen Matt’s mom broke down in tears and begged him not to enlist. So Matt has stayed, quickly got hired on at a local gun store where he and his father shopped and began to learn about and collect every gun he could possibly get his hands on. When he was not hunting he rode bikes and took Jeet Kun Do classes with Brian. He had known Zack since high school. He strode in as confidently as his limp would let him, grinning and hurrying to give Zack a hug until he saw Johnny.

“Wow. It’s Mini You.” Matt mumbled without enthusiasm and immediately stepped back.

“Hey!! You didn’t have to come out right away! You okay?”

“Yeah, I uh, fucked up my knee.” Matt’s hazel eyes would not stay on Zack for more than a few seconds and he looked ill at ease. “I think I tore some cartilage. I’ll probably have to admit defeat and go get it looked at which I’m sure is gonna mean surgery. My own fucking fault for not paying attention. The wreck I mean. Any other time I could have swerved into the clear. I kept thinking it would get better if I just stayed off my feet but it never did. Then I thought maybe I could just go to the gym and work it out.” He sighed and glanced down. “Bad fucking idea.” He tucked the hem of his Affliction t shirt back into this jeans even though it really hadn’t come out to begin with. He shifted his weight and looked around the garage again, looking over Johnny as if he was a piece of furniture.

“I’m sorry Matt.” Zack’s voice was soft, eyes traveling all over Matt, wishing he could make all the aches and pains go away. His arms were still out for the hug he obviously wasn’t getting and he finally dropped them at his sides. He had started to touch Matt’s arms but both were covered in scabbed over scrapes.

“Ah shit, listen to me. Complaining to a guy who spent a year in the hospital. I’m fine dude.” He straightened up to his full height and reached in his back pocket for his billfold. From it he pulled out a cashier’s check, handing it to Zack.

“Twelve hundred?! Is that what Brian told you?! That’s too much!”

“Dude, you think I’m stupid? The last time you did repairs for me, I looked it up online. There was no way you could have charged me what you did and made any money at all. That’s not right, man. I get that I’m your friend.” A blush developed around his dimples and he cleared his throat and looked away. “And I knew you’d say no, which is why I got a bank check. You have to take it.” Again Matt blushed hard and started to cough.

“You got your truck?” Zack asked, ringing up the amount on the register and printing Matt up his receipt.

“Yeah, hard as shit to drive stick with a fucked up knee, I tell ya that much.”

“Johnny will load up the bike for ya. Johnny?”

“Yeah, sure!” Johnny sprung to life from where he was watching Matt in the corner of the garage. He grabbed Matt’s bike and carefully wheeled it out.

“So that’s your sidekick, huh? Brian told me.”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“You’re a good guy, Zack. Always taking in strays.”

Zack smiled and touched Matt’s hand a little longer than necessary as he handed him the receipt.

“You gonna be okay for Jimmy’s party?”

“Oh you’d better believe it. I’ll get shot up with some kind of painkiller for the night. I’ll be there! You bringing little orphan Andy there?” He nodded toward the door where Johnny had just left.

“Yeah, Brian said it was okay.”

Matt only nodded, looking deep in thought. When the door jingled again he jumped.

“Okay, well see ya at the shindig. Thanks for taking care of my bike.” He turned around and shuffled out as fast as he could.

“And that was Matt.” Zack said as the door closed.

“Is he on drugs? He looked awfully nervous.” Johnny raised an eyebrow as he stared at the door.

“Nah, I don’t think he was expecting anyone to be here.”

“For a big jock guy, he sure does act squirrely.” Johnny stopped. “Wait a minute! There’s something going on between you two isn’t there?”

“Uh...” Zack grinned. “We’re not there yet, Johnny.”

“So you ARE fucking him! You’d come out and say it if you weren’t! Sex is the only thing you won’t talk about!”

“No! NO! I.....Christ. It’s extremely complicated, all right? The day after Jimmy’s party....if I’m still drunk....maybe I’ll tell you about it then. MAYBE!”

“Okay, fine!” Johnny held out his arms in surrender.

“All right, no one’s here so we should clean. You wanna do floors or wipe down everything?”

“Whatever is hardest for you to do.”

“Well I’m feeling pretty good today. I’m usually not hurting until the end of the day and then only sometimes. I’m fine, really.”

“Okay, well I’ll wipe down everything I guess.”

Zack turned on some music and they got to work.

“Is it always this slow?”

“Yeah.” Zack sighed. “I’ve been thinking of branching out for a long time, adding new things, carrying gear like jackets, reflectors, helmets. I’ve been teaching myself a little airbrushing. I can do a few basic designs. You have to offer more than one thing to survive. I guess....I just needed a kick in the ass to get started.” He smiled. “I’ll need to order racks for the jackets, keep them chained on, nothing too expensive though, a case for the helmets, and I need to find a really cheap bike I can buy and customize to keep here to show off my designs.”

“And then you could sell tickets and raffle it off.” Johnny added.

“Good idea. See, it’s good to have you around.” Zack took a breath. “Okay, after Jimmy’s party, after we’re over our hangovers, you and I are sitting down with fixture catalogs and the classified. We’re gonna get fixtures and a bike and then I’ll see how much I can afford to buy and stock for the first run and we’ll see how it sells.”

Johnny grinned.

“Cool! I can’t wait to help out.”

Just then, the human hurricane that was Jimmy Sullivan ran through the doors. Jimmy was even taller than Matt which meant to Johnny he looked like a man on stilts. If all you glimpsed of Jimmy was his face, you’d think he was chubby but that was part of the whole optical illusion that made up Jimmy’s body. His face was round, he had full cheeks and the hint of a double chin, yet the rest of him was long, tall, lanky and all angles. His hair was dyed black and stuck out at all angles on the top of his head while the back lay flat against his neck. His nose was long and straight much like Matt’s and his eyes were glittering bits of blue ice. Jimmy was apparently wearing what he had been wearing the day he was thrown in jail a year previous: a silk dress jacket, no shirt, a bow tie, jeans that barely stayed on his narrow, emaciated hips and Converse ultra high tops that laced up to just below his knee.

.

“I go into jail and you’re in the hospital, I get out and you have your own place, a business and you’ve given birth to a son! Awesome!” Jimmy clapped Zack on the back before pulling him into a bear hug and then turned and bent down to talk to Johnny as if he’d found him lost in the grocery store. “Hello little boy! I’m Jimmy. Is Zack your daddy?”

“Uh..no...” Johnny looked up at Jimmy unsure of what to make of him and whether he was joking. “I was homeless and he gave me a place to stay. Now I’m helping him out in the shop.”

“For real?! I was homeless before I went to jail. I used to live in a laundromat.” Jimmy boasted straightening up.

“Really?” Johnny’s head tilted all the way back, looking Jimmy in the eye.

“Yep. And you know what the funny thing was? I still smelled like shit because I never even washed my clothes the whole time I was there!”

“Well of course not! You only had one set and you couldn’t run around naked. You’d scare people.”

“Exactly! You get it! I like this kid!!” Jimmy got Johnny in a headlock and began rubbing his head. “Zack can I adopt your son?”

“He’s not my son!”

“Wow! You are so punk rock!” Johnny gushed, poking Jimmy in the stomach with his finger just to make sure he was real.

“And you’re so short!!” Jimmy let Johnny go and looked him up and down. “Do people steal you off your front lawn at night?”

“I never had a front lawn.”

“You’re a homeless gnome! Oh my god! That’s my next band name!! Jimmy Lawnmower and the Homeless Gnomes!” Jimmy looked down and laid his hand flat on Johnny’s head like he was palming a basketball.. “Hey did you spray paint your head?”

“Yeah, I did. Spray paint is sometimes easier to lift than hair dye. Just depends on who you’re stealing from.”

“You were into Good Charlotte weren’t you? Don’t lie.”

“Yeah....” Johnny looked down.

“Fucking A little dude! I liked The Backstreet Boys. Its all gravy. If you ever get mad at Daddy Zack, come live with me~ I’ll adopt you! We’ll live in a junkyard!”

“Cool!”

“Stop calling me Daddy! That sounds so....sexual! Ew.” Zack protested. Jimmy began to wandered around the shop, touching and looking at everything.

“Wow, Zack this is so cool. I’m so happy for you. You can walk, you have this place. Just wow, man. You did so good.”

“I’m glad you’re out of jail.” Zack came up from behind and hugged Jimmy. “Please be good and try to stay out this time. Where are you staying?”

“I’m staying at Brian’s right now. He thinks he can get me a gig fixing broken computers. Wouldn’t that make us quite the team?” He snorted.

“Good, I’m glad you have a place to stay. Oh speaking of that, Johnny, will you watch down here while I take Jimmy upstairs?”

“Upstairs?” Jimmy stared at the ceiling.

“Yeah, that’s where I live.”

“You live on the roof?!” Jimmy appeared to be astounded at the thought. “That’s amazing. Don’t you get wet when it rains? Ya got a tent?”

“No, no, I’ve got a loft type space up here. Like in the movie Big.”

“Ohhhhhh......” Jimmy followed Zack upstairs. “Wow, dude, you could throw a rave up here! Or film a porn! Or throw a porn rave!”

“Ha. No, no. But I do have Matt and Brian over for video games sometimes.”

“How’s Matt?”

“Okay. I’m sure he wants to see you but he wrecked his bike and he’s been laid up. He’ll be okay though. Tell Brian to take you by there. I know you’re gonna wanna wrestle with him but go easy, I think he’s gonna have to have knee surgery.”

“I will.” Jimmy threw his arms around Zack and hugged him tightly, nearly knocking him down. “I’m so happy for you, dude! You deserve it. I hated going to jail with you in the hospital, not being able to see you, not knowing how you were. God, this is so great.” He leaned down and kissed the top of Zack’s head.

“It’s good to see you too. I know you don’t like anyone telling you what to do but please, do your best to stay out of jail, cuz when you’re in jail you’re away from us and we miss you.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m dumb sometimes. I’ll do my best t stay out of trouble.” He squeezed Zack one more time and let him go. “You really are taking care of that kid?”

“Yeah. He’s been okay so far.”

“That’s so awesome. You’re my hero, Zack.”

“So how’s you get here?”

“Oh, Brian dropped me off. He wanted to go buy some more stuff for the party. I just now got out, like an hour ago. We went and ate and came here! I had to see you. Brian told me about Matt, said we’d call him later, make sure he was up. So what did I miss when I was gone?”

“Eh, about thirty of Brian’s girlfriends, Matt’s assistant manager of the gun store now---.”

“Oh Jesus Christ. He’s still out being a cross between Abercrombie & Fitch and Elmer Fudd?”

Zack started laughing. He went to the refrigerator and got Jimmy a soda.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Wow, I can’t get over this place! It’s like a movie set. I’m just so proud of you.” He popped the top and glanced around. “You kinda need furniture though.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been so busy working I just never go around to getting anything more than a futon.”

“Futon is the gayest word in the English language. Get a damn couch! Something you can have sex on. No one’s gonna fuck you on a futon.....unless they’re French.”

“Okay, I’ll get a couch. I promise.”

“So you....fix bikes?”

“Yep.”

“When did you learn to do that?”

“Started reading up when I was in the hospital. Just in case I never walked again, I wanted something I could do from a wheelchair.”

“Fuck dude, I’m so glad you’re okay. I fucking hated going away when you were being in and out of surgery and you were so banged up. That was the one thing I regretted and I make it a point not to regret a lot. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

Zack leaned in and hugged Jimmy again.

“It’s okay. You couldn’t help it. I know you didn’t mean to bail.” Zack ran his hand up Jimmy’s ribs and Jimmy giggled. “You’re like the only person I know that went to jail and didn’t put on any weight.”

“Just magic I guess. Come on, you’ve got a business to run, thanks for showing me around.”

“Any time you ever want to come and stay, I’ll have a couch with your name on it. “

“Sweet.”

=+=

“Pop quiz, kid!” Jimmy yelled as he came down the stairs. “Describe me in three words.”

“Emo Big Bird?”

“He’s a keeper! You get tired of him, send him to me! I’ll make him me and Brian’s evil minion.”

The door opened but instead of Brian it was an actual customer asking about a quote on getting a bike fixed. Zack brought him over to the counter, began typing up parts and labor prices into the computer and handed him an estimate and offering a guarantee of service, nodding to the five different certification plaques he had hanging on the wall behind him. The customer took the quote and promised to return the next day.

“Wow.” Jimmy said softly as the door closed. “You grew up.” For a moment he looked at Zack like he was seeing a ghost.

“He didn’t break anything did he?” Brian stuck his head in the door.

“No, he’s great! Thanks for bringing him here first.” Zack grinned.

“Not a problem. We’re gonna go see if his folks will let us in to get his stuff and then it’s home sweet home. Come by tomorrow as soon as you get off. The party will be in full swing. Hell we’ll be drinking tomorrow from the time we get up, right Jimbo?”

“I got a lot of catching up to do!” Jimmy grinned and cocked his head. “And on that note, I’m gonna make like a baby and head out!”

Chapter Six

Johnny continued to stare at the door after Jimmy had left.

“Wow, you....you have the coolest friends, ever. Next to you, that is the coolest guy I have ever met. Ever!”

“Yeah, Jimmy’s one of a kind. He’s a handful sometimes but we love him.”

“I hope he gets some clothes.” Johnny shook his head, still looking at the door.

“Oh that reminds me. We need to get you some clothes for the party.”

“Can’t I just borrow some of yours?”

“Well you could, I wouldn’t mind, but everyone knows what I wear. If they see you in my stuff....” Zack sighed. “I want them to judge you on you, not judge you on where you came from or why you’re staying with me, or that you’re staying with me at all. It’s no one’s business. As far as they know you’re my apprentice. And I’ll start paying you as soon as I figure out the details of all that. I’ve never hired anyone before. I have no idea how it works with the government and taxes and stuff.”

“You don’t have to pay me! You don’t have to buy me anything, Zack! Don’t you understand how bad I feel taking things from you? I just....I feel like I should be doing something.”

Zack motioned Johnny over to some red vinyl chairs in the waiting area and they both sat down.

“Johnny, think of me like your brother. If you had a brother and he wanted to do something for you, would you immediately think of paying him back?”

“No, probably because he gave me so much shit in the past I wouldn’t question it.”

“Well maybe there will be a time when I give you shit too, or make you work longer or not give you a day off or something. I’m not.....I’m just a kid like you, only older. There’s nothing special about me except the fact that I got some money and am determined to use it to do good things and make a life for myself. I’m nobody’s hero, I’m nobody’s savior---.”

“Don’t say that.”

Zack sighed.