#ended up picking up my fanny pack that i got black with no front pocket so i could embroider it

[givemethedamnflowers]

Now that i finished the embroidery project i was stuck on for months i just feel lost

Bc the next projets i have in minde are learning crochet and sewing a stuffed dog and i don't have the materials for any yet so my hands are lost and empty

Fr i finished 2 days ago and last night i was looking around like a lost child trying to find a new project to do until i can take the time to buy the new materials

[cixthotshit]

A Cup of Rose Americano

Pairing: Bae Jinyoung x Original Female Character|Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Poor Girl/Rich Boy, Coffee Shop/Gangster AU (IDEK how I got here, just go with it)

Summary: There's more than meets the eye with every person, including Bae Jinyoung, the world's finest barista at Personal Barista Cafe

Word count: 4.7k

Rating/Warnings: Mature / Explicit Sexual Content: Porn With Some Plot, Kissing, Mirror Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Creampie

Author’s Note: I wanted to write a fluffy Coffee Shop AU but NGL something else has been preoccupying my mind and the world building to this fic kind of went off the rails and transformed into a completely different story. Enjoy this smut, readers! I really want to explore this world a lot more but IDK if I can commit to anything beyond this RN. So please, please enjoy this! Sorry in advance for mistakes! I don't always catch everything when I proofread.

I always appreciate some feedback on my writings!

"Really, it'll be a...new coffee experience," Hyeon assured Sandy. She handed Sandy a green card. It felt like an expensive platinum credit card, the card made of metal, feeling heavy and cold in her hand. "All you have to do is fill out a survey after you get your free coffee. Once you make it inside, hand the card over to your barista."

"Aren't you supposed to find actual volunteers?" Sandy asked, looking at the shiny card. The only thing on the card was the name of the new test cafe, PB Cafe.

“Trust me,” Hyeon said with a grin. “You’ve never had coffee like this. This is free, too. You’re going to say no to free coffee? And I swear, this is really me saying it, their coffee is really good.”

“Fine, thanks for the free coffee.”

“Enjoy!” Hyeon turned her back to Sandy, most likely scanning for potential test subjects for her new marketing event. Being her best friend, Sandy was always her first test subject. She didn’t know if Hyeon’s bosses approved of her taking advantage of all the free stuff she was receiving.

Sandy walked over to a shop that was setup at the southwest corner of a 3 story building. The walls were white and the windows were covered by white curtains. “PB Cafe” was written in black on the front door, though there were no door handles. Standing in front of the door, Sandy noticed a black square pad beside the right side of the door. She pressed the green card to the black pad and jumped slightly as the glass door slid open. A short piano tune played, sounding old but familiar, reminding her of old Hollywood movies from the mid-20th Century.

Tentatively, she stepped in. Walking past the white curtains, she found herself inside a small room. At the back end of the room was a small bar with one wooden chair in front of it. It only took her 4 steps to reach the chair, so she pulled it out and sat down. The wall behind the bar slid down to the floor and a broad shouldered man walked out from what looked like a bright white light before the wall slid back up behind him.

Too shocked to react, Sandy set the green card down onto the smooth marble countertop. Her eyes couldn’t leave the face of her barista. He was very handsome and his small grin softened his masculine exterior. Wordlessly, he took the green card and placed it in the front left pocket of his black apron.

“Welcome to Personal Barista Cafe,” he said in a soft, sultry voice. “My name is Bae Jinyoung, your Personal Barista today. How shall I address you?”

“Uh, just call me Sandy, I don’t like formalities much.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sandy. If you don’t like formalities feel free to call me BaeJin or BaeBae.” She gave a soft chuckle and threw her hand over her mouth, feeling her cheeks warm up. Such a sultry man telling her to call him something as cute as BaeBae tickled her. “Is this your first drink with PB Cafe?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I don’t know anything about this cafe, except that you have good coffee.”

“A Personal Barista will make you a personalized drink,” he explained, pulling out a menu form. “Whatever you order, I will make it in front of you. If you want to know how I prepare your drink, please let me know and I will explain as I go. If you want small talk instead, I enjoy a small conversation as I prepare you a drink. If you want silence, for any reason, please don’t feel pressured to speak if you don’t want to.”

“Can I get an Americano?” she asked, after glancing at the long list of coffee drinks. The menu was simple and elegant, the writings were in cursive but the paper was black and the ink white. She liked the seemingly simple attention to detail. “How long have you been a barista, BaeJin?”

“Almost a year,” he replied. He poured fresh ground coffee into a metal contraption with a long neck. She pressed her lips together as her eyes were fixed on his skilled, large hands. He was using a device to compact the coffee grounds.

“Do you enjoy being a barista?”

“I do. It allows me to be creative. My regular job is stressful.”

He put the coffee grounds into the machine and pressed a few buttons. She watched him place a small white espresso mug under the spout of the machine. He grabbed a large white mug of coffee, and looked at her with a soft grin.

“This is your side hustle?” she asked. PB Cafe seemed like it paid well.

“Most people have more than one job these days,” he replied.

“That’s true,” she replied. “I have a day job and a night job.”

“What are your jobs?”

“I’m interning at a law firm, helping a paralegal out. I’m hoping to get my private investigator’s license soon.”

“You want to be a private investigator?” he asked.

“I want to be a lawyer,” she answered, “but having a private investigator’s license helps me pick up skills. Research is the true gift of being a good lawyer.”

“Research. You must be very smart and hard working.”

“You are sweet,” she said, resting an elbow onto the counter, leaning forward. “I wish my smarts and hard work were enough to give me success. I’m lacking in luck lately.” His eyes drifted away from the espresso machine and looked into her eyes. She felt her cheeks turn hot, realizing she had overshared. It’d been a sad thought, too. “I feel very lucky right now.”

“Sandy, I don’t mean to make assumptions about people but if I were to guess you are someone with expensive tastes,” he said. He pulled out two small brown glass bottles from a drawer. “But, you settle for less.”

“I..” she breathed out.

She should have been insulted, but her barista BaeJin was right. Sandy had always been envious of people who could afford designer things or had the means to go on extravagant vacations, but all of that had always been a dream. The closest she got was free shit from Hyeon. A drink from PB Cafe was likely three times that of a drink from Starbucks, and Sandy could only afford Starbucks for special occasions.

“Why are you saying this?”

“I want to make you a drink in which you will appreciate,” he replied, pulling out a single stemmed pink rose from under the counter, and handed it to her. She felt her cheeks flush with heat as she accepted it. “Refined, seemingly ostentatious, but simple and hopefully, delicious.”

He poured hot water from a glass kettle into the mug. She felt her cheeks turn hot again as he reached over and plucked a single petal from the rose she held. He tilted a single drop of liquid from one of the brown bottles onto the petal.

“Rose water,” he said to her as he locked eyes with her for a second. He placed the rose petal into the mug, letting it float in the hot water. He poured the espresso into the mug of water, and took a spoon to scoop out the wilted petal, tossing it away before handing the drink to her.

She gave it a sip, and shut her eyes, a smile on her lips. Using a flower as aromatic as a rose was difficult to pull off in cuisine. Oftentimes the rose aroma was too overpowering, reminding one’s nose of perfume instead of food. Baejin’s Rose Americano, though, was the perfect balance of a good cup of coffee elevated with some elegance, refined by the subtlest hint of a rose’s sweet scent. The warm breath she exhaled after a hot sip of Americano filled her senses with flowery comfort.

“This is the most...beautiful cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted,” she replied, setting the mug down when she was half finished. “It tastes...beautiful.”

He gave a small chuckle, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. She bit her bottom lip, trying not to smile any wider than she already was. He was incredibly cute, grinning in reaction to her compliment. How could a man exude the amount of sensuality like BaeJin yet be so cute that she wanted to squish him like a marshmallow?

“You like it?” he asked.

“I do,” she replied. “I didn’t know a cup of Americano could be improved. Thank you for this cup of coffee. You’re a gifted barista.”

“Thank you. I would love to make you another drink.”

“I’ll try to come back one day,” she said earnestly.

She sipped her drink and glanced at her phone. Thanking her talented, handsome (and cute) barista BaeJin one last time, Sandy finished her drink and sprinted out of the odd, surreal cafe. She had to get ready for work. Smelling the pink rose in her hand, Sandy smiled to herself. Who knew her barista would be the first man to give her a rose?

--

“Diamond! Malibu was accidentally double booked,” Danielle called out into the dressing room. “Can you give a lap dance in the Blue Champagne Room before going home?”

“Wait,” Sandy said, holding the gold hoop earring she’d just taken off her left earlobe, “I’m not going to chase Malibu for the flat fee. The last time I covered for her, not only did her John not tip me but I had to chase her for 4 days before she gave me the cash.”

“I have a hard time chasing her down, too,” Danielle said with a heavy sigh, handing her purple vape pen to Sandy to hold. She dug into her pink and purple Bedazzled fanny pack, and fished out a few bills. She handed a bag of clothing to Sandy. “Let me know if this John is handsy or out of line. He’s a new customer. You have five minutes, babe. Fix your makeup.”

Handing the vape pen back to her boss, Sandy put the cash into her purse before shutting and locking the drawer to her vanity. She put her earring back on and retouched her eye makeup and lipstick. Her locks of hair looked good as she combed her fingers through her hair, looking into the mirror before getting up to change.

Sandy hadn’t exactly planned on becoming a stripper, but during her freshman year in college, she took a class on feminist studies, specifically on sex work. What started out as a learning experience in respecting sex work, and educating herself on the legal struggles of sex workers’ rights, Sandy soon found herself stripping as a means of extra income. She herself was in need of money, and recognized her beauty was valued enough that she could make capital from it.

Having walked out on her dysfunctional family as soon as she turned 18, Sandy had been hustling on her own for years. She was still working towards a career in law, but in the meantime, she was balancing between her day job as an unpaid intern at a shitty law firm and her night job as a stripper at a club called Blue Paradise. Giving lap dances were only nice when she received good tips, but they didn’t happen often enough. All she wanted was a good tip.

Pulling out the outfit Danielle handed to her, she took off her clothes and put on her new outfit. She wore a neon pink G-string bikini bottom with her matching lace bra under a black pencil skirt and a white costume button up office dress shirt. She put on a loose blue tie around her neck, and put on a pair of thick black framed glasses, matching it with her black leather knee high boots. Apparently, this new customer had a librarian kink.

Walking down the hall, toward the other side of the back of the club, she entered the room with the blue door at the end of the hall. The Champagne Rooms, where customers received their private lap dances, were color coded. The Blue Room was where the clients with specific kinks went.

Opening the door, Sandy pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, and looked up to see her John seated on the black couch. The dim lighting of the room cast a shadow over his body, making it hard for her to make out his face. She blinked, and closed her mouth, realizing that her customer was her barista from PB Cafe, BaeJin. It had been days since she had her cup of Rose Americano.

He was wearing a loosely worn grey sweater with black denim jeans. She didn’t think it was possible but he looked more handsome than she last remembered. Perhaps, with her body so close to his, knowing that he was there for devious reasons, her face flushed and her nipples hardened as heat rushed through her body from head to toe.

“BaeJin!” she said, forgetting her sexy librarian character.

“Don’t move,” he said, looking alarmed. She stood completely still, one hand on the door handle. “You’re a stripper, Sandy?”

“You...you remember me?” He nodded. “Stripping is helping me pay for my law degree.” She licked her lips and tilted her head, pushing her chest forward slightly. “I can give you what you want.”

“I can’t do this,” he replied, crossing his left leg over his right. His eyes left her, and diverted to the ground. Her ego was bruised. Not only did she need the money, but her vanity made her feel upset that he didn’t want a lap dance from her. “I should go.”

“I have to try to keep you here,” she said shyly, pressing her back against the door. “If I don’t, that means I’m not good at my job.”

“How long should we be in here for you to be considered good at your job?” he asked, his eyes returning to meet her gaze.

“You don’t want a lap dance? Am I not cute? My tits too small?”

He gave a chuckle, and looked away when his eyes moved to her chest as she talked.

“You’re very cute,” he replied, “but that’s the problem. As a barista, I don’t date customers. Since you didn’t actually pay for your drink, I thought it’d be OK to ask you out if I ever saw you again. But if I pay for this lap dance, I wouldn’t want to ask you out. It’s not fair for me to proposition you while you’re working.”

“You’ve been thinking hard about me?” Her cheeks felt hot and goosebumps formed on her arms. “Would you accept my invitation if I asked you out after this? I’m actually supposed to be off work by now, but this is my last job tonight. If I don’t give you a lap dance, we didn’t cross any lines, right?”

He nodded, and she gave a nervous chuckle.

“You said that being a barista was your side hustle,” she said, noticing the expensive watch and ring on his left hand. Sex workers had to know street codes to keep themselves safe, and watches and rings were how gang members communicated their loyalties and rankings. “What’s your main job? You said it’s stressful.”

His right hand wrapped around his platinum watch, the case of the watch encrusted with diamonds. The C9 Gang was a wealthy gang with origins in Tokyo, Japan, platinum was their calling card. BaeJin’s gold band emerald ring sat on his middle finger, indicating he was a made man of high rank. Sandy was impressed; BaeJin had acclimated to a high status in a gang at a young age.

“How long have you been working here, Sandy?” he asked in response.

“Diamond,” she answered, her grip remaining firm on the door. “My stage name is Diamond.”

“Sandy...Diamond,” he said with a grin. He stood, and she took a deep inhale of breath as he took a step forward and pressed his body against hers, his left arm wrapping around her waist as his hand gripped onto her wrist. Her hold on the door handle loosened. “You are the diamond in the rough in Blue Paradise. You still want to invite me out on a date?”

She took a gulp of breath, staring deeply into his dark brown eyes. He licked his lips and her eyes drifted to his mouth. Giving the most gentle nod of her head, she said, “Yes.”

“I drive a blue Ferrari F60 America,” he said as the tip of his nose touched hers.

“I don’t know anything about cars,” she replied, shutting her eyes. His breath was warm, making it hard for her to breathe. He chuckled and she felt his head rest onto her shoulder.

She opened her eyes when she felt a hand touch her chin.

“I drive a blue car,” he said, his eyes drifting down her face to her lips. His thumb ran across her bottom lip gently, sending heat deep into her groin. Her stomach ached at the touch. “It’ll be the most expensive looking car you’ll see when you walk outside.” He looked directly into her eyes again. “I’m a dangerous man, Sandy...Diamond. I have to ask you one more time, do you want to keep talking to me?”

She chewed on the inside of her left cheek nervously, and furrowed her eyebrows. Given how close she was to getting the paid job as a paralegal at Johnston’s &Partners, Sandy was one step closer to her dreams of becoming a lawyer. Would it be ethical to date a gangster?

“Will you take me home or will we be going to your place?” she answered. Life was too short not to take risks.

--

Upon his request, she left work wearing her costume. BaeJin’s description of having the most expensive looking car was accurate. The navy blue car shone brighter than any other car, and the curves of the body created an elegant design to the car. He’d opened the passenger door for her. She realized her skirt barely covered her ass as the cold leather from the seat hit the back of her thighs.

He drove them up a curvy hill to get to his expensive mansion, placed behind a small forest. It sat atop of a mountainous hill, overlooking the bright lights of the city far below. BaeJin was a man of very high rank by the looks of his home. It was large and designed with multiple floor to ceiling windows. Sandy took a soft gulp of air as her mouth felt dry.

“Your home is beautiful,” she said when he led her into his home, the hallway lined with expensively framed paintings. The jade vase that held 3 white lilies beside the coat hanger looked like it was worth more than everything she owned, including the small amount of cash she had in her bank account.

BaeJin’s home aesthetic was minimalist, though each room had a piece of furniture that popped out, like the jade vase in the front entrance. In his bedroom, he had a rose gold encrusted full length mirror sitting at the foot of his bed. It was shameless, but did not surprise her. Their eyes locked as BaeJin sat down at the foot of the bed. Their fingers intertwined when she reached her left hand out to his outstretched right hand.

“I spent a week trying not to think about you,” he said, pulling her easily onto his lap. His free hand wrapped around her waist. “The closest thing to you was trying to get a stripper to dress up like a sexy librarian.”

“Aren’t you lucky?” she said, squeezing his hand. “You went to Blue Paradise wanting a fantasy. Instead, you left with your fantasy.”

His hand released hers and she felt his hand between her legs, sliding up against her slit. Shutting her eyes she gave a soft moan, surprised at his swift movement.

“You deserve the best in life,” he said into her ear before grazing his teeth gently against her neck. “Don’t ever settle for less.”

He kissed her, his lips warm and firm. His tongue parted her lips and she gave a soft hum. She pushed his tongue out of her mouth, appreciating the taste of floral green tea from him. Her fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him closer to her. He tasted better than the beautiful cup of Rose Americano.

With a clouded head, she helped him pull his sweater off as he aggressively pulled her top off of her, the cheap buttons popping loudly as they flew into the air. Her skirt failed to exist when he ripped the zipper and tore the fabric apart with his bare hands.

“Are you going to rip me apart?” she asked breathlessly when his fingers found their way under her bra, fondling her erect nipple. She gave a soft moan and he grinned as he pinched her sensitive bud.

“I’ll be as hard or soft as you want,” he assured her. The pad of his thumb grazed against her nipple. Her back shivered as a sharp heat rode up her back.

“I like a bit of both,” she said, her cheeks hot. It felt like a dream to have BaeJin telling her he would do as she wanted. “You ruined my skirt.”

“The cheap costume skirt?” he asked, his hand returning to rubbing her slit. “You don’t have to settle, remember?” She shut her eyes, her hand grabbing his arm as two of his fingers pressed against her clit. “I like you best without clothes anyway.” The heat intensified as his fingers moved down lower, moistening her panties with the slick heat coming out of her pussy. Her back shook again as his fingers moved up against her slit, and then back down. “Your voice is lovely.”

She moaned as she rested her head against his chest, his fingers continually creating more heat between her legs. One finger slipped under her panties, pulling the fabric away from her wet cunt. The back of his knuckle pressed against the engorged bud of her clit, and she mewled as he rubbed up and down against her.

“BaeBae,” she could only speak with a shaky breath, “BaeBae, I’m going to come.”

Her hips thrust haphazardly against his knuckle as a small flash of heat washed over her, goosebumps forming up the back of her neck. Her orgasm disappeared as soon as it came and she breathed through her mouth. Her pussy felt wet as her slick heat dripped out of her.

“I was just playing with you,” he said with an amused smile, his eyes locked onto the mess between her legs, including his wet fingers. He spread her juices onto her folds, and moved the pads of his index and middle fingers to draw small circles onto her clit. She mewled, shutting her eyes, as her hips rutted against the motions of his fingers. “But with you this wet, I can fuck you right now.”

“BaeBae,” she breathed out, opening her eyes.

Her eyebrows were furrowed as she looked at him. Wordlessly, she stood as their hands began removing each other’s clothes off. His expensive jewelry remained on as he pulled her back to his front, making her stand between his legs. His hand went between her legs and he massaged the inside of her thigh. She hummed a soft moan, enjoying the way his hand relaxed her muscles.

Both of his hands wrapped around her waist, and his lips kissed her neck. He requested she trust him, and one hand reached down to her right knee and had her stretch her leg out to rest over his. As his other hand went to her left knee, she understood what he was doing. He wanted a full view of her pussy so she sat on his lap with her legs hooked over his.

“Ready to put this to use?” he asked, his hands kneading her hips. His reflection from the mirror was staring at her. She saw the cheeks of her flushed face turn a bright red, and she tilted her head down to look away from the mirror. The blood coursing through her chest up to her head clouded her vision. “Look at us.”

His right hand cupped her face, and she felt his wrist press up against the front of her neck. The pulse from his wrist beat rapidly against the pulse on her neck, and she struggled to breathe as her eyes locked onto his from the reflection in the mirror. Hot blood rushed to her groin and her hips jerked forward, out of her control. His left arm wrapped around her waist had her firmly in his hold, so all she could do was wiggle in his lap. Feeling the muscles of his thighs flex under her made her buttocks tighten, her body anticipating his cock.

“If you let me take you raw,” he said softly against her ear, his eyes locked with hers through the reflection of the mirror, “that’ll make you mine.”

His hold on her face was gone as his hand grabbed his cock. He rubbed his hard cock against her slit. She bit her bottom lip as his heat caused more juices to pool out of her cunt. It made her nerves shake, itching her skin in unbearable heat. He blinked, and his eyebrows furrowed as she opened her mouth to breathe loudly.

“I’m yours,” she said clearly. He groaned as he pushed the tip of his cock into her entrance. “Give me everything, BaeJin.” Pleasure blinded her vision as she saw nothing but white and gold flecks of stars. She gave a loud gulp when she felt his hand grip onto her chin again, his wrist pressing against her throat. Her grip on his arms tightened as she held onto him for leverage. His cock pushed in deeper, and the walls of her pussy trembled as heat filled her body in overwhelming waves. “I’m yours.”

His lips were on her neck and when her vision cleared all her eyes could focus was on the way his cock was fucking her pussy. He started with shallow pushes, the rhythm steady as she bounced on his lap. She came and she gave a gentle mewl, blurting out his name as her walls squeezed his cock. A gentle chuckle escaped her lips as she saw him shut his eyes tight.

“You’re so easy to please,” he said as he pushed in deep. She gave a loud groan as he pulled out roughly before pushing in fast, going in balls deep. He started a steady, deep rhythm and she cried as she was filled with undiluted pleasure.

“You fuck so good,” she moaned, her hand reaching back to grab his hair. He sucked on her neck, leaving a red mark before he kissed her shoulder. “BaeJin, fuck me. I’m gonna - I’m - I’m gonna come.”

His grip around her waist tightened as he pushed faster into her, and they bent forward together as he came into her in deep pushes. Her fingers dug into his skin as she shut her eyes, taking in the sensation of his hot seed filling up her insides.

“Come,” he panted out heavily as she felt him withdraw from her. She whimpered as she felt his middle finger push into her come-filled cunt. His thumb rubbed up against her clit, making her nerves dance in hot waves. She cried out a soft orgasm as she came again. She breathed heavily as she rested against his body.

“We barely know each other,” she said after a while. She didn’t know how long they sat together, staring at their reflection before she finally spoke.

“We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other,” he said, running a hand up and down her thigh, sending heat up and down her back. “You are mine now.”

He pulled her off his lap, and they laid in bed together. A shiver went down her back as he kissed her shoulder. They were facing each other, her left leg locked between his muscular thighs.

Giving a laugh, she watched him grab her wrist. He kissed the inside of her wrist before kissing the inside of her elbow. She shut her eyes as she felt his lips on her shoulder. Every kiss sent a vibrating heat under her skin. His mouth sucked on her neck and she grabbed onto the back of his hair as his teeth grazed against her skin. The muscles in her stomach tightened. The world ceased to exist as BaeJin’s embrace consumed her.

[honeymoonjin]

A/N: a request for ot7 angst. Reader goes to surprise the boys during a concert only to realize they don’t have time for her. 1.7k. Special shout-out to my best girl @jeonau for this gorgeous banner xx

“It’s just that they’re in the middle of sound check, Y/n, it’s not a good time. Maybe if you arrived earlier…”

You nod at the bodyguard, a bulky guy that looked intimidating, but one you knew to be a genuinely kind soul. Smiling tightly to fight back tears, you shift your weight awkwardly. “I tried, that’s the thing. The stopover was delayed four hours, I was supposed to be here earlier this morning. Please, I’ll be quick, Seok-woo.”

You can’t help but notice the way he adjusts his stance like he’s preparing for you to try and push past him and break into the backstage area. Biceps flexing, he crosses his arms. “It’s not a good time,” he says again, “I’m sorry. Listen, I’ll call up the hotel for an extra room, and we can book you a flight in the morning. Did you even check with Sejin before doing this?”

You breathe out shakily, feeling the sick mass of disappointment rolling around your stomach. Fuck, you seriously didn’t want to cry in front of him. “It was meant to be a surprise! If everything went fine, I would’ve been here already, but I got to the stopover and the flight was delayed and it was too late to turn around and go back. I thought you guys would at least let me see them.” You sniff and curse the way it echoes in the concrete halls. “Have you at least told them I’m here?”

Seok-woo gives you a sad smile, and wordlessly reaches into a fanny pack to bring out a travel pack of tissues. When you make no move to take them, he sighs and lets his arm drop down to his side. “Y/n, they’re busy and they’re focused right now. We can’t be giving them a distraction right before the biggest stage of their lives.”

His face changes the moment he finishes his sentence, a stricken look at his poor choice of words, but you’re already stalking away from him angrily, feet thumping harder at the floor than necessary. He calls out to you, not that you listen. A fucking distraction. That’s what you were.

An hour passing finds you at the back of the stage end of the venue, shivering slightly although the sun is blazing in a clear sky. “Could I at least get a ticket for the show? I’ll even pay.”

“It’s sold out, Y/n, you know that. There’s not a single seat free in the whole venue. Hell, we’ve already broken out the additional temporary seating and that’s full too.”

You cradle the phone to your ear, hearing the familiar soothing drawl of Sejin. Dating the boys certainly meant that you had come into contact with their manager on many occasions, and you liked to think that the two of you had some Hollywood-like, unlikely-friendship kind of bond. Many a time you’d quite happily spend hours chatting with him while waiting for your boyfriends to finish up with a shoot or recording session. “Okay, maybe I could just wait in their dressing room. You don’t have to even tell them I’m here; I’d wait until they left and then slip in.”

A patient sigh. “I think it’s better if they rest up after the concert. They’ll want to do a v-live, no doubt, or at least some of them will, but after that I want them getting a good night’s sleep.”

You frown, chewing on the corner of your nail as you try to contain your worry. “But don’t you think they’d sleep better if I was with them? Tae-tae always tells me he doesn’t sleep well when I’m not there. So, it would be better for everyone if-”

“This isn’t up for negotiation, Y/n.” Sejin’s voice is firm, and the realization that you might really not get to see your boys makes tears spring to your eyes again.

“Tell me what I have to do, Sejin. Where do I have to go, how long do I have to wait? I’ll do anything if it means I get to see them.”

He pauses, the line so still that for a moment you wonder if he’s hung up on you. “Hang around the venue,” he answers finally in a strained voice, “I’ll see what I can do.” You exhale in a rush, ready to thank him, but he’s not done. “But no promises,” he warns quickly, “if I call you back and it’s a no, then it’s a no, Y/n. Okay? I’ve got to go, goodbye.”

You mumble a reply and slump down on the bench, gathering the will to go back inside and find a good spot to curl up for a few hours. Part of you wants to message one of them, even though you know they have a strict phones-off policy during sound check. Even so, you find yourself on your phone, hovering your fingers over the group chat.

This wasn’t just a random, spontaneous visit. You wanted to surprise them not with just your presence. The last time you had seen them was before they flew over to the U.S., and the eight of you had basically been in bed for a solid week. Apparently, something during that had taken a hold because now, just over a month later, you were sitting here with a photo of a positive pregnancy stick on your phone, resisting the urge to send it to them.

Perhaps this was why you felt like you had been on the verge of tears for the past twelve hours. You weren’t scared; if anything, you’d be overjoyed right about now, only that you missed them so fucking much, felt their absence like a physical void inside you, and you couldn’t think about anything but being with them.

With a pained sigh, you close out of the group chat thread. If there was one thing you were determined about, it was that you wanted to tell them in person. See the looks on their faces when they realized they were going to be parents.

It would be a logistical nightmare, perhaps. You hoped they didn’t get to hung up on who was the biological father. And part of you was scared for what would happen once the baby started growing up. How could a child possibly comprehend having eight parents when most children had two? But then you would think of the way Jimin was so gentle with that cat on his music video shoot, and the way Yoongi was so sweet to the younger fans at fan meets, and all the ways all of the men you loved would be amazing, caring dads, and that fear slipped into the background.

You had spent enough time on those two long flights to ponder what their reactions looked like. As you made your way back inside, winding through all the staff halls, looking for a relatively empty room, you imagined how it would be with each one of them.

The man you started dating first, Hoseok, would have a smile so big his cheeks would hurt, happier than ever as he exclaimed, “really?” He was always known as the loudest guy in the room, but whenever he got truly great news, he would quieten down out of shock. You couldn’t wait to see the disbelieving joy on his face.

Namjoon would probably hold you by the waist and squint at your stomach, trying to come to terms with the fact that there was life in there. Taehyung would get super sappy and wouldn’t take his eyes off you all night, Yoongi would poke fun in the way that meant he really cared, Jin’s eyes bright and glistening as he silently held back tears. Jungkook would laugh loudly, the sound of his glee carrying over the congratulations of all the other men, and Jimin would be openly crying before you had even finished your sentence.

You smiled bitterly, finally managing to locate a relatively small room that had a few dusty boxes of black plastic stage equipment, a broken concession stand sign leaning against the wall, and a broomstick. Figuring there wouldn’t be a huge demand for this space, you let yourself sink down the wall and onto the carpeted floor, worn thin over time.

You wasted away hours, hearing the thrumming of the sound check and eventually the concert through the walls. With nothing to do, and not wanting to use up all the battery on your phone, your mind unraveled, latching onto a million and one images of what life would be like over the coming months. Doctor’s appointments, picking out baby clothes, setting up a nursery in the dorm.

You knew it was foolish to feel this miserable, that it was probably just your sudden imbalance of hormones sending you spiraling, but it felt unbelievably painful to be so close yet so far from them.

They were out there, having the time of their lives, no doubt sure that you were chilling back at the dorm in Seoul, rather than holed up in a musty glorified closet. A vibration on your stomach jolts you out of your moping, and you pull your phone out of your pocket. A text from Sejin. Where are you now?

Heart racing, you jump up and rush out of the room, rushing down the hallway. I’ll come down to the dressing room now.

You can feel a vibrant motion in the air, the concrete ceilings almost vibrating as the noise above heightens with the fireworks that came at the end of the show. You had nothing to worry about, you reasoned, that whole time you were fine. Now, you could go see your boys, and tell them the great news after a concert well done, and then spend the night entangled with them, skin on skin on skin. Everything was fi-

Go to the staff entrance. Min-su is escorting you to the airport. Flight leaves in just under two hours.

You recoil physically from the screen in your hand, step faltering, sending your shoulder crashing into the wall. He was sending you home? After all that, you weren’t allowed to see them?

Another text. Only two more concerts left, Y/n. Just be patient. They don’t need you here right now.

Eyes stinging viciously, you push off the wall and carry on, trying to blink hard enough to will the tears away. That always seemed to be the problem. They didn’t need you. But you needed them.

[klovenhooves]

The Party: Chapter Six

Happy Halloween! Here is a Halloween themed update!

“Can I roll to seduce the orc?” Richie asked, the dice already cradled in his palm. Beside him, Stan rolled his eyes. They were well into hour four of a Dungeons and Dragons campaign, and to say that Richie had asked to seduce every villain the party had crossed paths with would be an understatement. Not only had he attempted (and failed) to seduce a gnome, a black mage, and now the orc, but he had attempted to seduce a barmaid (who threw a tankard of mead in his face), the carriage driver (who had threatened to leave him behind), and, as a joke, Stan’s human paladin character, who had barely managed to dodge the seduction via a counter roll.

 “Just tell him no, Bill,” Stan said in exasperation. “We can’t try to pull him out of anymore failed seductions, it’s getting ridiculous.”

 “Yeah,” Eddie chimed in. “Richie is rapidly approaching his own real-life ratio of romantic success.”

 “You wound me,” Richie said to Eddie, his hand over his heart. He ignored Stan’s comment, which earned him a scoff and another eyeroll.

 “Roll the dice, Bard,” Bill said, his eyes and brow just barely visible over the trifold that hid his Dungeon Master notes and maps. “Let’s see if fortune finally favors you.”

 “Even the Dungeon Master is rude,” Richie said, but there was a laugh in his voice, and he released the die onto the mat below him. It rolled, struggled, and then slipped back to a 16. The rest of the party groaned while Richie erupted in cheers, rising to his feet, pumping his fists over his head. “Prepare to get dicked down, orc hunter!” He glanced over at Eddie and winked, relishing in the way the top of Eddie’s cheeks flushed pink. He grinned and looked away, catching sight of Bev, who raised her eyebrows at him.

 Now what did that mean?

Two hours later, after the orc hunter had been, as Richie described, dicked down, and the boss had been defeated, Richie lingered near the door to Bill’s apartment, waiting for Eddie to finish double-and-triple checking that he had his keys, his wallet, his phone, and his inhaler so they could leave. But Eddie was done patting his pockets and his fanny pack and was now talking in hushed tones to Beverly, who tossed a glance back at Richie with something that looked like mischief in her eyes.

 Something about that look made him nervous.

 “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eleven,” Bev was saying to Eddie’s retreating form, and Eddie gave her a two-fingered salute that Richie recognized as his own. Something about Eddie doing something Richie often did made him smile.

 “You guys going somewhere?” Richie asked as Eddie sidled up to him.

 “Bev is taking me to grab a Halloween costume tomorrow,” Eddie answered easily. “Ben got invited to this Halloween party that Greta is throwing, so he got us all invites.”

 “Greta?” Richie asked. “Disgusting name.”

 “Yeah, she’s pretty gross all the way through,” Eddie said nonchalantly. “She used to bully us in middle school, but Ben’s pretty hot now, so she didn’t recognize him. Introduced herself and everything.”

 “What are you going to be for Halloween?” Richie asked. “Lemme guess…an inhaler. No, wait, a nerd. No, wait!”

 “I’m going as a doctor,” Eddie interrupted, halting the guessing game before it could annoy him too much. “It’s simple, comfortable, and I don’t have to worry about morons not knowing who I am.”

 “I’m going to tell the whole party you’re the guy from Scrubs.”

 “Richie, I’m going to fucking kill you –”

 ***

 It had been three weeks since Family Day, and in those three weeks, Beverly and Stan noticed something very interesting about their friends. For Beverly, it was obvious from the moment she saw Richie in his dorm the first time that he had a crush on Eddie, though whether Richie himself knew or not was unclear.

 For Stan, it was even more obvious that Richie liked Eddie. The way he gently tried to navigate Eddie’s issues with his mother was a dead giveaway. That didn’t mean he approved of his interest, necessarily. That is, he didn’t approve until he saw something he probably wasn’t supposed to see.

 In the middle of The Goonies, Stan had sat up and stretched, planning on ducking out of the room to take a piss. In his exit, he caught sight of Eddie, nestled comfortably in Richie’s arms, his eyes on the television. Above him, Richie was dozing lightly, his mouth slightly open, his glasses sliding down his nose. As he watched, Eddie gently reached up and pulled the glasses from Richie’s face, pausing long enough to brush an errant chunk of hair out of Richie’s eyes.

 There was a tenderness there that Stan had never seen in Eddie, and for that reason, and that reason alone (he kept telling himself), he begrudgingly approved.

 He and Bev had exchanged a glance when the movie ended, and even though they didn’t say anything, they understood. After that they would spend Tuesday mornings, before class, sipping coffee and discussing how to best force their friends to understand what they clearly saw.

 Finally, they thought they had come up with a foolproof plan.

 ***

At 10:45 a.m., Beverly messaged Eddie that she couldn’t take him to the Spirit store for a last minute Halloween costume, but she was going to swing by for blue hair dye and would grab the costume he needed. Eddie didn’t understand it, but Bev quickly sent another text, this one an apology and an explanation that said she had to do something else during the time she said she’d pick Eddie up, and as an apology, she would grab his costume for him.

 He thanked her and slid his phone back into his pocket, not sure why the entire exchange made him uneasy.

 As he was contemplating why he suddenly felt nervous, Bev was putting her car in park in front of the Spirit store, Stan in the passenger seat.

 “I feel bad,” she said. “I don’t like lying to Eddie.”

 “We aren’t lying to Eddie,” Stan rationalized. “You do have to do something else. You have to pick out Eddie’s costume. He’ll thank you later.”

 “But first he’ll hate me,” she pointed out.

 “That’s true,” Stan replied.

 Bev leaned over and ruffled Stan’s hair. “Wait for me,” she said. “I’ll only be a minute.”

 Stan sat in the car, watching Beverly choose what they had agreed on, lingering by the hair dye to pick out her own costume piece, and only when she was standing at the register did Stan pull out his own phone and send a text.

 “Meet me for lunch,” it said.

 ***

 An hour later, Stan was taking the seat across from Richie at the university cafeteria, a salad in front of him while Richie picked up a slice of greasy pizza, covered in bacon and pineapple. Stan watched him take a bite, then two, in silence, before he spoke. He wanted Richie to have his guard down, to not be expecting what he was going to say. Only then would Stan be able to see what he really wanted before Richie managed to make a joke out of it.

 “So…you and Eddie, huh?” he asked finally.

 The effect was instantaneous. Richie choked on his mouthful of pizza, his face flushing dark red. He covered his mouth, coughing uncontrollably, and still managed, to Stan’s disgust, to splutter through several aborted statements with his mouth still full.

 “Richie, manners,” Stan said sternly.

 With wide eyes, Richie swallowed his food, and proceeded to drain his entire cup of chocolate milk (chocolate milk, Stan thought, disgusting).

 “I don’t know what you mean,” he said unconvincingly.

 “Sure you don’t,” Stan said. “So you expect me to believe that you don’t like Eddie?”

 “I – well, of course I like Eddie,” Richie stammered. “I just – you know – like that –”

 “Oh, is this the part where you tell me that you don’t like men?” Stan asked, leaning forward. “Richie, hear me very carefully – we don’t care if you like men, women, both, neither, whatever. We don’t mind if you have a label for who you like or not. But you like Eddie. That much is clear.”

 “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Richie said, his face devoid of emotion. Stan watched him carefully, his plan and lunch forgotten. Perhaps he had miscalculated Richie’s friendship, or his comfort. Either way, he was done forcing the subject.

 ***

 “Are you sure you don’t want me to dye your hair blue, too?” Bev asked as Eddie carefully painted blue dye into her hair. She was sitting on the floor of his dorm, one of Richie’s shirts around her shoulders. Eddie hovered above her, his hands clad in black gloves.

 “I think I’ll pass,” he said with a laugh. “You brought my costume, right?”

 “It’s in the bag over there,” Bev said, squirming uncomfortably on the floor.

 “Cool,” Eddie said companionably. “I think I got all of your hair.”

 “It just has to sit for a bit,” Bev said, turning to look up at Eddie. “So, while it does, I thought I’d…talk to you about something.”

 “Okay,” Eddie said, carefully peeling off his gloves and tossing them into the trash. “What’s up?”

 “It’s about Richie,” she said, watching for Eddie’s reaction. “Do you think…do you think he likes anyone?”

 Eddie froze, halfway through the motion of uncapping his Germ-X bottle. “What – what do you mean?”

 “I mean, do you think he’s into anyone?” Bev asked. “I can’t really get a bead on it.”

 “Why do you want to know?” Eddie asked.

 Bev shrugged, and Eddie stared at her, long enough that Bev could feel his glare boring into the side of her face. It felt wrong, leading Eddie to believe that she had a crush on Richie, but wasn’t that how so many people realized they had feelings for someone? Once that person might no longer be available, the feelings become clear.

 “I – well – no, I don’t think he likes anyone,” Eddie said quietly, more to himself than to Bev. “You should….you should be fine. Bill and Ben will be upset, though.”

 To avoid answering, Bev stood and checked her reflection in the mirror, prodding at one of her now blue curls. “I think this is about ready to be washed out,” she said, tugging the sleeves of Richie’s shirt farther down her arms. “I’m going to go shower,” she added. “See you at the party!”

 “Yeah, see you,” Eddie said, his voice small enough that Bev almost told him the truth, almost apologized. But she didn’t.

 ***

 Richie was getting annoyed. The party started half an hour ago, and he still hadn’t left because not only had Eddie not bothered to get dressed yet, but he couldn’t find the shirt he needed for his costume.

 “So you’re a…scarecrow?” Eddie asked sullenly from his bed, where he was watching Richie rummage through his dirty clothes hamper for the fifth time. “Why?”

 “Why not?” Richie asked with a shrug, trying to avoid looking in Eddie’s direction. Ever since Stan asked him point-blank if he liked Eddie, he was painfully aware of how often he was looking at Eddie, touching Eddie, laughing with Eddie. It was all so…embarrassing now. How obvious was his crush, anyway? He hated himself.

 “I’m already lanky as shit as it is, so I might as well go with it,” he said. “But since I can’t find the fucking shirt I need, I’m going to have to go shirtless with overalls, and everyone is going to think I’m just a stupid hillbilly.”

 “Put the costume on, let me see,” Eddie insisted, sitting up straighter.

 Richie, who was already wearing the overalls, just unhooked, slipped his shirt off and clipped the straps, haphazardly dropping the hat on his head. “See?”

 Eddie stared at him, his eyes on something between Richie’s neck and his chest, and cleared his throat. “It – uh – it looks good. I’m sure the ladies will love you in that.”

 Richie shrugged. “I know I wasn’t terribly clear about it when I blurted it out at you a while ago, but I’m not really into women. They’re alright, but not for me.” He laughed, awkwardly, and turned away from Eddie again, who was looking curiously after him, a word of surprise on his lips. “Are you going to get dressed or what?”

 Eddie’s eyes fell to the bag, the one Bev left behind, which held decidedly not the costume he asked for, but something he probably would not ever have the gall to wear in public, much less in front of his roommate that he might or might not have feelings for.

 “You go on ahead to the party,” he said. “I’m going to…get dressed and get there in a bit.”

 “Why can’t we just go together?” Richie asked.

 “I have to do something, Jesus Christ, dude, fuck off,” Eddie snapped, and Richie laughed.

 “Okay, Spaghetti, I’ll see you there,” Richie said easily, grabbing his keys and sliding out the door. Eddie watched him go, his unfocused gaze remaining on the closed door long after Richie’s footsteps faded.

 Did he really have feelings for Richie? It seemed like an easy enough thing to deny, but hearing Bev’s cautious question had shifted things into a different kind of focus. Did someone have feelings for Richie? Why did that bother him so much?

 It bothered him because Richie was loud, annoying, so incredibly talkative that it was a wonder he could ever breathe. That was why it bothered him, Eddie thought with determination. Not because he himself had feelings for Richie, but because having feelings for Richie made no sense. Yes, that must be it.

 But then there was that evening, while they were watching The Goonies, when Richie slid his arm around his shoulders, that his relentless talking wasn’t annoying, it was charming, when his huge glasses were no longer too big for his face, but accentuated his smile, his large, friendly eyes.

 Something had shifted, then, when Richie’s eyes fell down to Eddie’s and they stayed that way, momentarily lost, suspended somewhere beyond a room full of their friends. After that, their bickering was no longer heated, it was just playful. Their jokes were just as mean, but there was a lightness in their eyes that they both understood. It was comfortable, it was affectionate, and…Eddie paused in his thoughts. Richie was only like that with him. Not with anyone else. Surely that meant something, right?

 As if on cue, his phone, sitting on his desk, started vibrating. He glanced at it for a moment before deciding to pick it up.

 “Stan,” he said as a greeting. “How’s the party?”

 “I heard you were coming in a bit,” Stan said. “That better not be code for not showing up at all.”

 “My costume –”

 “I’m coming to pick you up, Eddie,” Stan said, his voice stern enough that Eddie knew there was no point in arguing. “So get dressed. I’ll be there in five.”

 ***

 Stan sat in his car, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, watching the door to Eddie’s dorm building. He had told Eddie to meet him outside in five, but he wasn’t sure if Eddie would really wear the costume. He had predicted, based on his years of experience with Eddie’s stubbornness, that if he made it seem like he had no choice, Eddie would comply, but who knows. Maybe Richie’s influence was too great, and Eddie was more stubborn than Stan predicted.

 Then the door opened and Eddie slipped out, his shoulders hunched, looking embarrassed. Immediately, he caught sight of Stan’s car and hopped in.

 “Don’t say a word,” he said, pulling the short shorts farther down, as if that would help. Stan pursed his lips and turned back to the road, putting the car in drive.

 “You look good,” he said sincerely.

 “Shut up, no I don’t,” Eddie snapped, trying to pull the top half of his costume closed. “I don’t understand why Bev would do this to me. She knew I just wanted to wear scrubs.”

 Stan shrugged, choosing not to answer, and before Eddie could ask more questions, the short drive was over. He watched as Eddie struggled to decide if he was going to get out of the car at all, his eyes falling on his exposed skin.

 “Come on, Eddie,” Stan said reassuringly. “Yours is far from the most revealing costume in there, I promise.”

 “Really?” Eddie asked, his eyes hopeful.

 “Promise,” Stan replied.

 ***

 Richie refilled his red Solo cup full of tepid beer as his eyes scanned the crowd for Eddie again. He had already seen Beverly, with freshly dyed blue hair and yellow raincoat. Her Coraline was accompanied by Ben, dressed as Wybie. He had caught a glimpse of Mike and Bill, dressed as Sherlock and Watson, whispering in each other’s ears in one of the dark corners of the room, a cup in each of their hands.

 He hadn’t seen Stan yet, but as soon as he thought it, there he was, dressed as Bob Ross, which really looked like most of Stan’s normal clothes more than a costume. And beside him was…

 Suddenly Richie’s mouth was very dry.

 “I thought Eddie was dressing as a doctor,” he said to Bev, who slid up beside him. “Like…scrubs and stuff.”

 But Eddie was wearing tiny white shorts, shiny like latex, and an almost open white top, with a little red cross on the front. Even from across the room, Richie could see that Eddie was uncomfortable, or embarrassed and while he was thoroughly enjoying the view (too much, if Bev’s smug expression was any indicator), he suddenly wished he had his scarecrow shirt so he could take it off and offer it to Eddie.

 “You’re welcome,” Bev said coyly, squeezing Richie’s arm and disappearing back into the crowd.

 “Hey, Trashmouth!” Eddie’s voice cut through the crowd and almost instantly, Richie felt his stomach drop. He could feel Stan’s eyes on him from his place at Eddie’s side and it felt like his gaze was magnified. Everyone was looking at him, looking at Eddie, so openly asking for Richie’s attention.

 Before Eddie could get through the crowd, Richie ducked away, into another room. It was safer to admire Eddie from afar, where no one would get any ideas.

 ***

 Halloween was a bust, Eddie thought ruefully. Here he was, at a party in a costume that apparently several people found very appealing (if the amount of drinks being pushed his way was any indication), but the one person whose attention he wanted was studiously avoiding having any contact with him.

 “What’s wrong, Eddie?” Stan asked, leaning against the wall with his own cup of what Eddie knew was water. “Boy troubles?”

 “I hate it when you say it like that,” Eddie replied sourly.

 “So I’m right,” Stan said smugly.

 “Richie hasn’t said a word to me all night,” Eddie said before he could censor himself. Besides, he rationalized, Stan wouldn’t tell. Stan would understand.

 “Do you want him to talk to you?” Stan asked leadingly. “Because you know how Richie is. If he sees you having fun, he’ll have to join. He can’t help himself.”

 “You’re right,” Eddie said thoughtfully.

 “Eddie!” Bill and Mike called from the makeshift dance floor. “Come dance!”

 “I think I just found your fun,” Stan said, nudging Eddie toward the dancing. “Go, Richie will follow.”

 ***

 “Why aren’t you talking to Eddie?” Beverly asked, passing Richie another cup of beer. “He was looking for you.”

 Richie avoided her gaze, choosing instead to look into the depths of his beer. “I don’t know what you mean.”

 “Okay, moron, but the crap,” Bev said sharply. “You like him, he likes you, go talk to him about it before you spontaneously combust.”

 Richie narrowed his eyes. “Why do I feel like you and Stan are tag-teaming on some weird scheme?”

 Beverly shrugged, taking a sip of her own beer. “Why do you care?”

 “I don’t like being manipulated,” Richie replied. “And I don’t like being confronted with things I’d rather not talk about.”

 “Yeah, no one likes that, Rich,” Bev pointed out. “That’s common sense. We aren’t trying to convince you to be open with everyone, we just want you to be open with Eddie.”

 “If I go talk to him, will this conversation cease?” Richie asked.

 “Absolutely.”

 “I kind of hate you, Bev,” Richie replied, passing her his drink. “And Stan.”

 “We know,” she said with a wink.

 ***

 “Richie incoming,” Bill said as Eddie bounced to the music. “Look alive.”

 “What does that mean?” Mike asked with a laugh.

 “It means be cool,” Bill said, his face flushed from booze. “I know…I know what I meant.” He laughed and slipped sideways, and Eddie had to catch him by winding an arm around his waist.

 He turned to survey Bill’s face more completely but before he could, Richie caught his attention, standing just on the edge of the dance floor. His eyes were on Eddie’s hand, around Bill’s waist. There was a tension in his brow that Eddie wasn’t used to, but it made him nervous. He passed Bill over to Mike and made his way to the edge of the dance floor, beside Richie. Even then, when they were standing next to each other, Richie avoided looking at him.

 “What’s wrong with you, Trashmouth?” Eddie asked gruffly. Richie jumped and glanced at him before he looked away once more. “You haven’t spoken to me all night, you won’t look at me. What, do you hate this stupid costume that much? It is pretty ridiculous.”

 “That’s not it,” Richie said, his voice barely heard over the music. “I just – do you –” he shook the thought free from his mind and started again. “Bill’s costume is pretty cool.”

 “Yeah,” Eddie said warmly. “Bill always has cool costumes. But he’s done Sherlock before, so it doesn’t really count.”

 “Oh, yeah,” Richie said, as if he wasn’t really listening.

 “Okay, I’m going to leave you to this weird mood you’re in, because you’re starting to piss me off,” Eddie retorted, trying to pull his shorts farther down, but even as he did it, he knew it was just a nervous movement. It didn’t help anything. Richie’s eyes followed his movement carefully, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously.

 He started to walk away, and when Richie didn’t stop him, came stomping back. “You aren’t even going to stop me?” he snapped. “God, Richie, what is your problem?”

 “Do you like Bill?” Richie asked suddenly, as if Eddie’s previous questions hadn’t been mentioned. Eddie stared at him, momentarily lost for words, and Richie’s face fell. “Okay, good to know,” he said, stepping away from Eddie and toward the crowd.

 “No, Rich, wait,” Eddie grabbed him by the arm, but Richie was still moving, weaving between people, as if he didn’t even realize Eddie was clinging to his arm. But still, Eddie hung on. “I don’t like Bill, you idiot, I was just trying to make sure he wasn’t going to fall over and get trampled by other drunk idiots. Richie, you fucking asshole, would you stop for one goddamn second?”

 Richie glanced back at him, his gaze unfocused. Eddie watched as Richie eyes found his own, then his mouth, then his bare chest, and back up again.

 “Richie, stop, you fucking jackass!”

 He screeched to a stop, so quickly that Eddie slammed into his back. He didn’t bother to turn around to see Eddie. “So you don’t like Bill?”

 “No, you dipshit. Besides, Bill likes Mike. I like…” the words, so easy when they could be used to shut Richie up, died in his throat as Richie’s eyes found his again. Could he say it out loud? What if Richie thought it was a joke? What if Richie treated it like a joke? He wasn’t sure he could take that.

 “You like…?”

 Suddenly, Eddie remembered Bev’s words from earlier. “Who do you like?” he asked instead.

 “This is so high school,” Richie groaned, running his hands through his hair. “God, I thought when you get to college you just get to sleep with whoever you want as long as they’re also cool with it. I didn’t think there’d be stupid feelings and crushes and all that shit.”

 “You thought that once you got your diploma you could just fuck around all you wanted?” Eddie asked incredulously. Richie shrugged. “I – I sometimes wonder if you are really as stupid as the shit you say.”

 Richie laughed, and the light returned to his eyes for just a moment. “It does seem kind of stupid when I say it out loud.”

 “Should’ve sounded stupid when you said it in your head,” Eddie grumbled.

 Eddie was suddenly aware that they were at the back door of the house, halfway outside. The sound from the party was significantly diminished, so Eddie could finally hear himself think. Richie chuckled and nodded.

 “So who is it?” he asked.

 Eddie swallowed. “Who is what?” he asked, playing dumb.

 “Who do you like?” Richie asked.

 “I thought you thought this was all high school?” Eddie said nervously. “It…it doesn’t really matter, right?”

 Richie surveyed him closely. “If…if you think it doesn’t matter,” he offered.

 Eddie scrutinized Richie’s expression, searching for the correct answer. “I – I don’t think we should talk about it right now,” he said, trying for lightness. “It’s a party, we should party.”

 Richie blinked once, twice, and then a third time. “You’re right,” he said, offering Eddie his hand. “Care to dance? That costume deserves to be seen in motion.”

 Eddie flushed, taking Richie’s hand. “What – what does that mean?” he asked.

 Richie looked down at him, something unreadable and tempting in his gaze. “I think you know.”

[sapphiresea]

ECCC – The Wayhaught Experience

Hey guys! So a couple people asked that I write about my experience at Emerald City Comic Con, and I did! It’s a bit long, so it’s below a cut because I had a lot to say, but I also trimmed it down a bit for better fit. (Pictures included.)

Now, let me start by saying my plan for the weekend was really simple. I was getting Dom and Kat to each sign my group photo from last year, and on top of that, I was getting another autograph from Dom to use as my tattoo – asking her specifically to write “I’m here and I stay” for me. Then, I was going to get a selfie with each and a duo photo op. Yeah. Let’s not talk about how much extra money I dropped because I decided they were too amazing and wanted to capitalize on this convention as much as possible. But also, I definitely do not regret it.

So once I got my ticket, I headed straight to the building where they had autographs, photo ops, and main stage panels. Although her line was longer, I decided to see Dom first, then Kat, during their first autograph session of the con.

I wasn’t too far back in Dom’s line, which was cool, and it felt pretty fast to get to see her, even though she was chatting with everyone. Two people in front of me were trying to get a selfie and Dom was holding out the camera trying to position it so they were all in frame and it looked like a major struggle bus for someone short, so I offered to help. She immediately thrust the phone at me and very politely agreed and thanked me. So when I got to the front, she was like, “Hello again!”

She was confused by the instruction of her manager for what I wanted for the tattoo, but as soon as I said it, she knew immediately what I meant. She pulled a multicolor pen from her fanny pack, clicked the blue and said she would write it a couple of times to make sure I had what I wanted. The second time was perfect, though. I told her that last summer had been particularly hard and that I had lost a lot of people I cared about, and that Jolene had really helped me to get through some of those nights, and got me to five years clean (which received a “wow” from her). I said that listening to her talk about anxiety in the Black Badge podcast had very much helped inspire me to send in my grad school applications and that I had just been accepted into all the schools to which I applied, and she was really impressed. I can’t remember exactly what she said, but I do remember her saying, “Isn’t it amazing? You’re so afraid of doing something and there’s no reason for it! You got into every school!” She asked where I was planning to go, so I told her I picked York University in Toronto and she said that was awesome and “right around the corner from Kat!” She also asked what I was studying, so I told her quant psych/statistics, and I don’t think she connected as much with that, but she was still very sweet about it. I thanked her and got a really cute selfie before moving on to meet with Kat. 

Kat was a completely different energy altogether! Dom was very mellow and sweet, like she really lives up to that hippie vibe, but Kat was much more intense, full eye contact, leaning forward, asking a bunch of questions.

I got up to her pretty quickly, as the lines weren’t long so early on Friday. I was having her sign my group photo from last year’s Calgary Comic Expo and she recognized it immediately and asked if that’s where I’m from. She was very excited when I said, “yes.” I said I had just flown in that morning before coming and that I was living off about 45 minutes of sleep. She was like, “Oh, so you’re here, but you’re like, I’M HERE BUT I’M A LITTLE BIT CRAZY!?” Which…yeah, pretty much! 

I told her I was excited just to be there, though, because the trip was a graduation present and a celebration because I got into every grad school to which I applied. She was stunned and congratulated me and I replied that it was really cool because it was a highly competitive program and I didn’t think I would get in at all. She asked what I study and I told her quant psych, and that there’s only four schools in Canada that have that program and most only have a couple spots each per year. Her eyes went huge and she congratulated me again. She said she was sure I’d make the right choice of where to go, and when I said I had just accepted the offer from York, she asked if I meant the one in Toronto and was stoked when I said “yes.” She told me York was an amazing school and I would absolutely love it. She added that she had considered York for undergrad because they had a theater program there, and then had almost gone there for an MBA when she didn’t think acting would work out. I told her my best friend had just gotten her MBA from there and she was like, “See!? It’s an amazing school!” and started talking up Toronto and how much I would love it. That made me pretty jazzed, really. We actually ended up talking much more than I thought before taking two selfies (they’re pretty similar, so I only included my favorite) and I had to run for a photo op unrelated to Wynonna Earp.

Right, so…Here is where the impulsivity of con life kicked in. And let me start this by saying: I did a great job at not blowing a ton of money on impulse buys for stuff. So what I spent here was almost kinda-sorta balanced, maybe? Don’t overthink it. I bought individual photo ops for Dom on Friday and Kat on Sunday.

I met this guy, David, in line for Dom’s photos, and we were chatting the whole time. He was really fun, and we ended up hanging out after. Anyway, it came up that I didn’t have a ticket for Saturday’s show and his son wasn’t going to be using his. He offered to let me buy it off of him and was able to get it for me before the end of the day! Amazing. And as it turned out, Saturday was an incredible day, as well, so I am immensely grateful that I didn’t end up missing it.

Here’s my photo op individual with Dominique. We don’t get a lot of chance to really talk during photo ops, but of course I asked for my usual funny faces, and when we were done, she joked that she’s certain that it was going to turn out really sexy. She was right. 

I changed my Sunday photo ops with Kat to be Saturday photo ops. I had chosen to wear a jacket I found a few months ago that was the same Waverly wore in season 2, and when I walked in, Kat exclaimed, “That looks familiar! Was it on the show?” I replied, “Yeah! Waverly had it.” And she was like, “Oh, Waverly had it! I remember that.”

I brought along fake moustaches to go along with her #SolidarityInStaches posts, and I didn’t even have to ask before she was like, “Can I pick whichever one?” Of course, yes, and she took the pink one. I picked a curly black one and pocketed the rest. She peeled off the sticker back to stick it to her face and gave a hilariously serious pose, while I just held mine up. As I left, she asked if she could keep it, and I said, “Definitely!”

I met up with my friend, Carole, after the live stage interview, and she was about to go see Dom and Kat again and in case no one’s picked up on a pattern yet, I’m weak, so I was like, “Cool, I’ll go have them sign my individual photo ops!” Plus, Kat was selling that photo of her and Bernie that was donating all of the proceeds went to Soi Dog, which is a great organization, so I decided to get an autograph for my best friend, who I got into Earper life a few months ago, who loves Kat.

This time, I saw Kat first, and I told her all about the friend she was signing for, because she recognized immediately that my name was not ‘Catherine.’ I told her I had tried for ages to get my friend into it and lure her in with great representation and storylines and humor… Finally I remembered a very important fact about my friend: her weakness is hot redheads. So I texted her a photo of Nicole and said, “Did I mention there’s a hot redhead lesbian?” and she immediately jumped at it. Kat thought that was hilarious and said my friend sounds awesome.

Since she was still signing, I spoke with her a bit about Pooched and she was so excited that I had watched the trailer and the live stream and enjoyed it. You can really tell how passionate she is about that project, and honestly guys, if you haven’t yet, you definitely should watch. I joked that my friends and I don’t have dogs, but we do treat our cats like that. She asked if my friends had ever thrown a birthday party for their cats and I told her I have one friend who did. I added that we’re honors students, which means we present almost every week in class and she will work her cat into every presentation. Sometimes it’s really creative. That really amused her. 

She also mentioned that she loved the moustache photo we had taken and that she had kept the pink moustache and was planning to take a picture with it later. I have no idea if she really will or if she’s lost it or anything, but I was just happy that she enjoyed it! I told her I had found a box of fake moustaches randomly in my room and she was like, “Do you know why you had them?” and I said, “I just know my mom bought them for me years ago and they were just sitting there until you started your moustache thing!” She said it was meant to be, or something like that.

Dom’s table was completely empty when I was done with Kat, so I hopped right over there. As I was paying for autographs, she noticed immediately the outfit I was wearing and exclaimed, “You’re wearing the Waverly shirt!” I replied that I had thrifted it, too, which she thought was great. As she started to sign, I told her my name is Steph because she hadn’t had it written down yet, and the volunteer asked if it was a P-H or F-F and I said, P-H, which prompted Dom to sing the spelling of my name in a cute little tune of S-T-E-P-H. It was really adorable.

I asked if it was strange coming back to North America after so long in Brazil, and she said it was, especially since she had been in the amazon with tribes and small towns, which was extremely different from anything like this, but that it was nice to be back, too. She talked a little about the importance of travel, and that she would really recommend seeing Brazil, because it’s a whole other viewpoint and understanding of ways of doing things. 

We started talking a bit about Start the Wave, and I asked about a post she made awhile back about being a no-waste traveler, since I find when I travel is when I become the most wasteful. She gave a few suggestions, like bringing your own bamboo utensils, water bottles, cups, etc. Apparently she had a whole other bag with “all that shit” which was a pain in the butt, but ultimately worthwhile. She said that she found you have to tell people right off the bat that you have your own things, so they won’t give you cups or straws or anything that will be wasted because you’re not using them. We also lamented the North American reliance on plastic water bottles a bit when I mentioned that, from how I had grown up, I used to rely almost entirely on bottled water until I switched to a good water bottle, and that my parents still just keep loads of bottled water in their fridge. She said her family does the same thing and it kind of drives her crazy when she opens the door and finds a whole bunch of bottled water. 

I saw that some other people were coming and it was toward the end of the day, too, so I said it was great chatting with her and hopped off. 

Sunday, I arrived extremely early for the Wayhaught panel to get good seats, which meant sitting through hours of 80′s music and the Stranger Things panel which came before, but that was actually pretty fun.

I wasn’t initially planning to ask a question, but I had finally come up with something funny that they’d never heard before, and I was like, screw it, and went up. I was the first person in line on the right side, so I was the second to ask a question. I just realized watching the video back that Dom waved at me and said, “Hi Stephanie,” in her sweet little British voice before I even introduced myself, so apparently she remembered and recognized me!? That’s actually really cool and I’m still trying to recover from it. I was super nervous, but they were really funny with their answers and I loved Dom’s fascination with the show. It was such a great atmosphere in there, and so much fun. It was really a bummer when the whole thing was over.

The next thing on my agenda was about an hour later for the duo photo ops. Side note: right before me, someone was doing a photo op with a lightsaber and Kat was playing with it. She was excited as heck that it made noises when she moved it. 

I walked in and Kat’s eyes locked on my sweater before she noticed my face. My sweater was an oversized York University shirt, so she exclaimed, “Oh my god, are you Canadian!?” And then she looked up and before I could reply, about a split second later, she mentally face-palmed and was like, “I’m so sorry! We had a whole conversation about this! You’re going to York for grad school! I remember!” I told her it was alright, I wasn’t offended or anything, but she insisted she remembered. So that was pretty nice. Although I normally do fun photo ops, I asked if we could just do a group hug, and they were like, “Of course!” and pulled me in for one. 

I’m not even going to pretend like I hadn’t already decided to go back for one last autograph session, but listen. I wasn’t the only one. The girls in line with me also went to every autograph session and they go to every convention with Dom and Kat, so I figured it’s fine. Plus, they were always really happy to see us. I will say, those line ups were really fun. Earpers really know how to make a line a good experience. And Dom’s line was long, so that was a very good thing.

My last meeting with Kat began with another apology for her question during the photo ops. Before I could even put down the picture I wanted her to sign, she looked me right in the eye and said, “I am so sorry, Steph! I do remember we had a whole conversation about York and grad school.” I replied that it’s perfectly okay and that honestly, I didn’t expect her to remember because I know she had met so many people over the weekend that I wouldn’t have been offended if she didn’t. She apologized and insisted again that she absolutely did (and given that she also addressed me by name multiple times without seeing it written down anywhere, I definitely believe her). It was really nice, though, even if it wasn’t necessary!

This was my moment to be a sap, though, and I told her that, although I’m sure she’s heard it a million times, it was really awesome to finally see a lesbian who’s alive and whose whole story doesn’t revolve around coming out and dealing with being gay as if it were the worst thing in the world or some obstacle to overcome or something, because it feels as if that’s all I’ve gotten to see. I told her that I’m only slightly younger than her (and then she asked my birthday, but I’m not sure why) and that it felt like my whole life I hadn’t really gotten to see representation like that. The first time I even heard the word ‘lesbian’ was as a derogatory term when Ellen Degeneres came out, and I was too young to even know what it meant. 

She was so kind and listened to every word, and it was really nice. It also spurred a conversation about Ellen, who she exclaimed her love for (we all know, Kat; we all know). We talked about her a bit and I mentioned that I’m also a big fan of Portia de Rossi and she said she’s really great, too, so I asked if she had ever read her book. She answered that she hadn’t and said she would have to add it to her list. I told her it’s about Portia’s eating disorder and her experience coming out as a lesbian, so if she’s in a dark place or just wants something light and fluffy, maybe skip to the epilogue. She seemed really interested in it, though, and asked the title. When I told her, she replied, “Wow, that’s beautiful! I am definitely going to take your recommendation and check it out!”  We then took the following selfie. I gave her the direction to do wide-eyed, open-mouthed excitement, and she was like, “Of course!” But you judge if that’s the look she actually made. I love them, though.

From there, it was on to Dom’s line, which, like I said was long. I got into it more than an hour before the convention was supposed to finish, and I was still in the overflow line when 5:00 PM passed. Kat still had a number of people in her line, as well, but not quite as many because she was going faster. Both of them insisted on staying for every fan, though, and even when Dom was being rushed and told to go faster with each of us, she made a point of apologizing that she couldn’t spend longer with a lot of people. It was very sweet. When Kat left, she waved to all of us to say goodbye and thank you for coming and that she hopes to see us at future conventions. 

To be honest, since I had already seen her that weekend, had I not already stood in the line for two hours by that point and paid for another autograph/selfie combo while in the line, I would’ve left so Dom could have gone home sooner, but since I had, I just made a point to be fast when I got up there. I pretty much told her that I thought she was spot on about Earpers being an incredible community, like she said in the panel, and thanked her for the weekend. When we had taken the selfie, I asked if I could hug her and she said, “Of course,” so I did, but that was about the extent of the interaction because it was undoubtedly a long day for her and I didn’t want to make it longer. 

That’s where my weekend experience ended with them, and honestly, you guys, it was really so awesome. I can’t quite tell you how awesome it was, or how energized I felt leaving. Earpers are amazing. Kat and Dom are incredible.I just love this whole fandom so much I could squeeze you all! But I’m done rambling for now.

[thfrustration]

The Loki Equation - Part 23

TITLE OF STORY: The Loki Equation  CHAPTER NUMBER: Part 23 AUTHOR: Spiesinthedark WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Loki GENRE: Adventure/Romance FIC SUMMARY: Odd things begin to happen to a fanfiction writer…. RATING: PG-13 WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: Language, sexual innuendos 

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

“Why do you have that look on your face?”

“I don’t know…it’s just…not what I expected.”

“And what were you expecting, exactly?”

“Well…not this color, that’s for sure. And it’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be, honestly.”

“Thank you darling. How does it feel?”

“Good. It’s heavy, but I feel like I could hit someone with it.”

I hefted the thick pink flashlight, miming a swing at an imaginary adversary’s head. I don’t know if I could kill someone with it, but it could do some serious damage, despite the unfortunate color.

Loki had dropped a gym bag onto my dining room table and was digging through it, handing things out to me. A black sweatshirt, a fanny pack, a retractable stick thing that could easily bust out a kneecap or two. And granola bars, bless him. I’m a snacker.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked, pulling the sweatshirt over my head and picking up the fanny pack.

He pulled out what looked like a building blueprint, spreading it out and holding down the corners with few snack bars. “This is, allegedly, a shipping company’s warehouse. It’s on the south side of the city, and could possibly be the hiding place of one of the two remaining books that we need to recover. Or so I have gathered from a charming individual that resisted my questioning…at first.”

“Why do you say allegedly?” I asked.

“I have completed some preliminary research. The building has no registered owners or executives, no phone number, no internet presence, nothing other than the sign out front.” he responded, peering down at the outline of doors, windows and hallways. Imaging him browsing the internet was a weird visual, I wondered if he had seen porn of himself.

I knew that what he was saying was serious business, but I was having a hard time focusing. He had on a black sweater that was just the right amount of tight, an his green eyes were startlingly bright. He was flush with the thought of a chase. He was saying something about roughing someone up. Hot. I was wondering if I could convince him to rough me up a little. It had been a while.

“…they knocked the woman out, smashed the case and took the book, and set the building ablaze. She recovered in time to escape through a window and went to the authorities. My contact was there during the initial report and passed along the information. Why are you looking at me like that?”

I became vaguely aware that he was speaking to me, and snagged a granola bar to cover my tracks. “So we storm the place, kick butt, and then run away with the book in hand, right?” I asked, fumbling with the wrapper.

His smile was brilliant. “I am surprised, I did not think you were listening.”

“Are you kidding me? Look at me, I am all ears. The very picture of attention.”

Loki, god of mischief and lies, snorted. What a gentleman.

He took the snack from my hand, put it own onto the table, and backed me into the counter. “You’re distracted,” he murmured into my ear, “Would you like to fill me in on your thoughts?”

I absolutely did not. Honestly, the recon mission was the last thing on my to-do list, and he had just rocketed to the top. That sweater needed to come off. And then those pants. And then my pants. I’d probably keep the sweatshirt on, it was cold in my apartment. The books could wait a few hours, right? Did the apocalypse have a ticking timer, counting down? I didn’t think so, but what the heck do I know.

“How long do we have until we need to leave?” I asked, leaning back to look at his face. The crick in my neck was 100% worth it.

His eyes gleamed and darkened, and his smile got wide. “Not long enough, I’m afraid.” I guessed they don’t have quickies where he was from. He was right though, the sky outside the windows was dark and I could see the glow of the streetlights. He had shown up as the sun was setting, nudging his way past me to dig through my fridge before filling me in on his information and game plan.

Loki stepped back, putting space between us and allowing me to breathe again. He handed me the flashlight, and I tucked it into my sweatshirt pocket. Clipping on the fanny pack, I rolled the blueprints up too.

“What’s the chance of us getting shot?” I asked, halfway joking.

“If you stay close to me, highly unlikely” he replied, tucking the bars into my pack. His hands at my waist were warm and gentle as he zipped me up.

“Are you bulletproof?”

“Better, I’m a god.”

“Pardon me your highness.”

We left my apartment shortly after, locking the door behind us and silently making our way down to his car. We buckled in, and he navigated onto the freeway, headed towards the south end.

I had the feeling of impending doom following close behind us. Hopefully his royal highness was all he claimed to be, because I sure as shit wasn’t bulletproof.

[rockpapertoast]

The Point

Mama told me not to swallow the pit of my cherry or else a big ol’ tree would grow right inside my belly. She told me that the deep red color made my lips look like Gran’s and that they were beautiful. I picked up the tiny fruits, one at a time, pulling off the green stems and piling them on the wooden steps. Mama sat in front of me so I watched her do it first. I ripped mine apart, turning my fingers pink and wet. I could see the little pit peeking through right in the middle. I ripped it out with my teeth, gnawing off all the little pieces that stuck to it, and spat it right in front of me as hard as I could. It hurt my mouth. She slowly turned back and looked at me with her big brown eyes and a smile. “Mama gonna getcha!” She growled at me as she squeezed me on either side. She tickled me red juice dribbles.

It was our first full day at The Point and we came in so late that we didn’t have time to get groceries, so cherries were all we had. There was a stick of butter left in the refrigerator, along with some squished old Wonderbread and a can of Krunzhmann’s Smoked Ham. Pop had probably left them. 

The Point was my great grandpa’s house when he was a little boy. His family grew up, all together, in this tiny house with one bedroom and one other room that held the furniture and kitchen stuff. No one can stay in the winter anymore because there’s no heat and the snow here gets really cold and deep, so Pop opens it in May for the summer months and me and Mama always come here to work after my school gets done. Mama works. I work more like part- time. The place is full of dust and old pictures- it gave me the creepies when I was little, especially after Dad stopped coming with us. He met a woman named Sherry and they have two girls together now, Shiva and Lillia. They sound like puppy names to me. Shiva would bark more. I see him once a month for strawberry milkshakes and a hug. He knows I like the cherry on top and extra whipped cream, so he gives me his. 

I remember Dad telling me stories about the pictures of Pop and his old friends. They are covered in dust and rusted-golden picture frames with warped glass covering the black and white figures. I would sit on his lap at night before bed and he would bump me up and down on his knee, telling me how many places Pops had traveled, how the blueberries that grow here are magic, and how the biggest fish in the entire world lived in the lake right outside. “He looks out for you when you’re out there swimmin’ like a big girl,” he’d say, “you can’t go out past the McDermott’s place or else he’ll come nibble on those toes!” I liked my Dad a whole lot even before the milkshakes.

After we finished our cherries, I sat on the back porch and tried to tie two stems together in my mouth. I always heard that was a sexy type of thing to be able to do, but I could never imagine how someone’s tongue could be capable of such a thing. Mine wasn’t. The back of my throat felt like it was tearing apart and the stems tickled the side of my tongue. Ripples of waves slowly moved towards the shore, just a few feet away from our deck. I could hear my tummy gurgling over the faint sound of the bird clock chirping inside, but I held it tight with both hands. I bet there were a hundred Bluegills out there in the lake just swimming around looking for breakfast, too. I don’t think they can eat cherries, or the pits. 

Mama and I left at five after nine to walk to town. The hills seemed much bigger than last summer. They were extra turny and the morning wasn’t fully gone yet so the clouds were stuck all around us, hanging on with all their might. Mama tells me that at night the clouds come in real close to hug us and keep us warm, just like a blanket. I don’t know if I believe her but I like the idea of extra blankets at night. I always get cold.  

“What kinda tree is this, Magpie?” Mama asked me as she let go of my hand and walked towards a dark green furry kind a few feet away from the road.

“How in the heck should I know that? It’s a green one, Suza, that’s what kind it is. A fuzzy green one that is not awake yet so he would appreciate it if you’d stop touchin’ him, thank ya very much!” I told her right back. She gets mad when I’m sassy to her but she woke up with big eyes this morning. That’s usually a good sign. 

“Miss Magapoo! You little devil, sassin’ your Mama first thing in the mornin’. Should’a left ya in Chapin!” Mama picked off a piece of the green fur tree and brought it back to me, sticking it right up to my nose. It smelled sweet, like most of the air up here. 

“Peeyeew!” I shouted at her. She knew I was joking and she laughed right back at me.

“Hemlock, Miss Magpie. He’s got some wide needles, round ends,” Mama said as she bent down next to me, holding up the needles to my face real close, “and if you flip ‘em over, you see he’s got two kinda white lines here.” 

“Hemlock. Hemmmlock!” I said, making up a song to help me remember. Mama always asks me about trees and I can’t remember them all. There’s so many up here so I try to make ‘em into songs or memories somehow. Like the Oak- I fell off of it smack dab on my bum when I was four and cried so hard I threw up all over myself. Mama wouldn’t dare let me forget that one. We don’t have the same kinda trees in South Carolina, so it’s hard to keep ‘em separate. 

We got to Tawny’s Market and I picked out the pink lemonade. I like the kind that looks like a jar because who doesn’t love the smack sound it makes when you yank off the top? I asked Mama if we could get summer sausage and she said we’d have some at Pop’s later. I always peel off the skin around it, the slimy clear stuff gives me the spooks, but the inside is nice and salty. We checked out and I helped put our food into the totes that Mama had brought with us. We ran into Tawny on our way out. She’s one hard lady to track down on a Saturday morning. 

Tawny had long brown hair that came almost all the way down to her butt and was tucked into one fat braid that swished side to side on her back as she walked. She saw us walking towards the bakery and opened her mouth wide, giving us big eyes and spreading out her arms. She jetted towards us full- speed. She smushed me with her fanny pack as she hugged me all kinds of tight and kissed my forehead. 

“Welcome back, so glad to see ya, Mags! Come down and visit anytime. We’re makin’ zucchini bread tomorrow if you wanna come help out while your Mama’s at work!” She was always real nice to me every summer and I usually came to visit about once a week when I got bored of Tommy Joe. She and Mama hugged and talked for a few minutes while I sat on the wooden bench right next to the bulletin board full of advertisements for lawn care, dog walkers and babysitters. I never understood who would just pick up somebody’s information at a market like that, but a lot of the flyers had been torn off where the tags stuck out. 

I wanted to ask for a jelly doughnut but I knew Mama would say no. Tawny used fresh raspberry jelly that was just the right amount of sweet and tart. Whenever I would disappear for an hour or so and come back home with a bag of sweets before dinner, Mama wouldn’t even get mad that my tummy was already filled up. She liked treats, too.  Tawny is TJ’s Mom and one of Mama’s best girls up here. They grill together sometimes and drink cocktails with booze in ‘em when me and TJ play sticks in the woods, or things like that. Tommy Joe is my best friend or something. I guess he’s my best friend when we’re in New London, so for three months of sunshine. It’s the same starting over every year. 

Mama has been working at the Toy Museum down the street ever since I can remember. Great Grandpa started collecting old antique cars and gadgets when he was a swinger and he kept ‘em all there. It’s made up of a few big garages jam- packed with old cars, creepy toys with painted faces, and a whole lot of spiderwebs. Uncle Don runs it now, since he lives here full- time, and helps Pop, who can’t do all that much heavy stuff anymore. Uncle Don is Mama’s older brother. His wife died of cancer two summers ago and ever since then, he only smiles with his eyes. He’s got one great big wrinkle that fits right across his forehead when he makes smile- eyes, but that’s all. Aunt Jill died of the same kinda cancer that took my Gran. Something happened to their lady parts. Uncle Don used to have real nice dimples on his cheeks, but they’ve been lost for a long time now. Auntie Jill had been sick ever since I was four, so I don’t remember her without a quilt on her lap and pink hat keeping her smooth little peach-head nice and warm. Her head was darn well near the softest thing I’d ever felt. 

TJ’s family lives three driveways down from The Point and his grandparents are friends with Pop. They used to own most of the North parts around the lake and Pop owned the South ones. Mount Kearsarge was the divider, smackdab across from our deck, way up in the distance. You can see the big hump of the mountain behind the clouds if you look at the right time. Our back wooden deck points right at the mountain, like an arrow, and the whole lake sweeps down and gouges into the land on either side of us. It’s like we get the best seats of all and the mountain points right back at us. 

After we got home and started unpacking our groceries, Mama said I could go find TJ to play before lunch. I laced up my new white keds that I’d gotten two weeks ago since my last tennis shoes were destroyed in the giant mud pocket that I found near my school three weeks before we’d left. I went into the bathroom and put sunscreen on my face since my nose always turns pink when I don’t wear protection in the sunshine. Tawny told Mama that it was supposed to be hot today, and she always knew the weather here exactly right. I smeared Coppertone right on my cheeks and nose while standing on my tippy toes and looking in the mirror. I could only see a few white and blue stripes of my shirt, since I wasn’t tall enough. This was my favorite shirt, with a stain on the bottom right from a cherry pit that got away. 

I grabbed my bike and started pedaling through the gravel to Tommy Joe’s. My face was still kinda sticky so I felt little smacks against my cheeks when I flew through the clouds of gnats. It was wide open around the house before the driveway took me into the woods for a while, leading out to the main road that I took to TJ’s. It had rained a few days ago so the sand- filled gravel was thicker, like gum was stuck to the bottom of my tires. I was out of breath as soon as I turned the corner to TJ’s house. 

The difference between the Point and TJ’s house is that they live there all the time, and we only live here for a few months. His house is dark green and about the same size as the Point. It’s just TJ and his Mom so they don’t need much room.

“Hey Tommy Joe! It’s me, I’m back here for ya!” I shouted as I dropped my bike next to his front porch and ran up the steps. The screen door was open and I knocked real hard on the chipped white painted part of the door. “It’s me- Maggie Smith! I’m back here for TJ!” I didn’t hear anything so I walked in and saw TJ on the couch playing some video game. It was beeping and speaking in video game words that I couldn’t much understand. 

“You could’ve answered the door,” I said to him.

“Hi Mag. Sorry, I’m finishing this,” He called back at me. His voice was deeper than I remembered and his nose looked bigger. His lips were pink and his skin was the same caramel that I remembered. I felt my chest get tight and roped up, as I stared at him shaking his Nintendo back and forth as he forcefully pressed the keyboard, like someone threw a rock and tickled it at the same time. My mouth got all wet and melted.

“I can come back later, It’s okay” I said to him, turning around and walking out towards the door again. 

“No, Maggie Smith, you come back here. Give me five seconds, I just need to finish level four with King Archibald,” he said to me as he ran up to me and grabbed my arm, pulling me back to sit on the couch next to him. He smelled salty and looked kind of sticky. I wondered if he’d put on sunscreen this morning, too.  

“That feels nice,” he said to me as I followed my finger along the side of his hair down by his ear. 

“Your head got bigger, Tom. How can you be so stupid and still have such a big noggin?”  

I looked over his shoulder for a few minutes as his little video game soldier fired away at dragons, crawled up stone walls and eventually found King Archibald. 

“Finished!” He said, “Wanna swim to the bank and look for frogs? I haven’t found any yet since it’s been kind of cold here.” 

“Sure- I don’t have my swimsuit here, though,” I told him. I usually wear it under my clothes, but I didn’t think we’d be swimming right away. And I don’t like how it feels on my bum when I bike.

“Here- just take this off,” TJ pulled at my shirt, so I slowly peeled it off to reveal my white camisole. It was too big for me, so it hung around. “Are you wearing underwear?” 

“Yeah I am, yuck- why wouldn’t I?” I hadn’t worn underwear all day yesterday. It felt nice to have a breeze. 

“Come on!” TJ said as he ran out of the living room letting the screen door slam right in my face. I grabbed a green and purple splotchy beach towel that hung on the coat hook and followed behind him, holding it tightly against my chest. 

He ran all the way to the dock and started taking off his shirt and his shorts. By the time I’d made it standing next to him he was bare chested. He was wearing whitey tighties that sat right on his hips. I never really knew the difference between boxer briefs and shorts, but apparently there is one. I saw the bulge between his legs and thought about what it would be like to touch it. I never understood how those things just fit all neatly right in there without popping out on accident. Like they just fold up when they’re supposed to. I think TJ saw me staring at him because he started fidgeting. I could feel my face getting hotter and I looked down at the rippling waves.

“Take off your shorts, come on,” He said as he kicked his pile of clothes and walked towards the edge of the dock. TJ dunked his foot into the water, sending a shiver through his body. He looked like he’d been electrocuted from the foot upwards. “Jesus Christ! Come here Mag!” He shouted at me, holding his crotch and pattering on his feet, one at a time like he had to pee really badly. 

I unzipped my shorts, tossed them right on top of Tommy Joe’s pile of clothes, and scooted up to grab his hand. 

“On the count of three. One, two, three- come on!” Shouted TJ as he fired himself forward, bringing me along into the greenish water. We sprung a few feet from the dock and both came up for air. 

“Woooo! This is way too cold!” I yelled, with my lips quivering. I could feel my goosebumps coming out and kicked my feet extra hard in the water. 

“Here, I’ll race you to Gull rock, it’ll get us warm!” Gull rock was the big boulder a few hundred feet away that had perfectly carved holes in it for us to climb out of so we could go searching for frogs in the marsh along the shore over there. We had to climb through a pile of rocks if we didn’t take Gull. I started throwing my arms, one after another, turning my head as fast as I could. TJ and I collided and I scratched his leg with my fingernail. “Sorry!” I said, but water was coming in and out of my mouth so fast that I’m not sure he heard a word I said. 

When we made it over there, TJ climbed out first, adjusting his boxers so they didn’t collapse on him. He reached down and stuck out his arm to help pull me up. The rock was slimy and my toes scrambled to find the right holes to push myself up on. My face felt hot and the sun toasted us as we bent down, crawling around in thick grass and muck to find creatures. We always found these tiny little green frogs with brown splotches on them and fat double chins. 

“Find any?” TJ hollered at me after a few minutes of silence. It was always a competition with us and whoever found the first one usually won, no matter how many more they found after that. My feet were making squaking squish sounds as I suctioned them out of the muck, like I had to fight to get them back even though they were mine. 

TJ spurted forward towards a shrub and dove into with his arms in front of him like he was ready to grab something. “Holy Jesus, look at this! Yeeehaaa!” He screamed as he clasped his hands real tight together. “Comere Maggie!” 

I teetered my way over to him, trying to keep from falling face first into the mucky grass. “Let’s see ‘em” I said, planting my two feet hard. TJ slowly brought his hands towards my face and moved his thumb down just a tad to show two big eyes and a beating chin. It’s mouth was sort of orange looking and it had two little lines that marked what should’ve been it’s nose, but i’m not too sure frogs have noses anyways. He was a real cute one. I stuck my fingers into TJ’s and touched his slimy back, it was slimy and just the right amount of bumpy. 

“Let’s take him back with us. I wanna keep him, look how cute he is- what a nice lil’ guy,” TJ said looking around, “Should we make him a raft or something? Can he swim?”

“He’s a frog, Tom, he can swim better than you!” 

“Shut your trap, Maggie Smith, let’s go. Here, you take him.”

I reached out my hands, cupping them just enough to take him without poking at him too much, and walked back to the rock. TJ jumped in first and I slid my way down, skidding my bum on the rock. 

The water felt much warmer now. I floated on my back, holding our new friend cupped snug in my hands while I kicked breaststroke. I learned how to do that in swim lessons- I’d been taking them ever since I was about four. TJ was probably swimming fast again but I didn’t mind. I was happy to be back here. The clouds were moving real speedy, and they looked extra puffy. I always wondered if they felt like Marshmallow Creme to touch. That’s how I imagined them. 

I kept kicking, looking back every few seconds to make sure I wasn’t going the wrong way or something. I was close to the dock and I saw TJ standing their waiting, his feet dangling along the surface of the water. 

“Almost there! Here, take ‘em,” I said to him, turning towards him and coming up straight. I reached my hands up and plopped him into TJ’s, climbing back up the ladder onto the deck next to him. I brushed the droplets of water off my face and shook my hair really fast. 

“Maggie. Look.” TJ’s voice turned higher, like the boy I’d known for the past nine years. I looked over into his hand- cage and got mine ready to catch the leaping frog as it came out. He lifted up his hands to show a lump of a frog, no leaps, no beating chin. 

“What happened?” I asked TJ

“I think he’s sleeping. He’s just tired from the swim is all, Mag.”

I swallowed hard and felt the sun all the way in my throat. I couldn’t look at it again so I told TJ to put him to bed somewhere else. TJ said okay and ran him back into the woods near his house while I stayed on the dock. He put the frog down by a tree and scattered some leaves on top of him. I sat down on the deck and wondered when he started falling asleep, I couldn’t feel it in my hands or anything. I knew that asleep meant dead, and so did Tommy Joe, but neither of us wanted to say it. TJ came back over and sat down next to me for a few minutes, but neither of us had anything to say. 

When I stood up, I wrung the water out of my camisole, sending it dripping out onto the deck. TJ’s face froze and he wiggled his lower lip like he was trying to fight with it. 

“Maggie? Are you okay?” TJ asked, looking down at my legs. I looked down, too, and saw a few red dribbles down my leg. 

“Is that from the frog?” I asked TJ

“Um, not unless you hurt him”

I knew that Gran and Aunt Jill had died because of problems with their lady insides and I hoped I would never have that stuff. 

“I’m dying, Tom,” I said quietly.

“Do you want to take a nap? Maybe you’re tired, too” He said.

TJ brought me out a blanket and a pillow from his bed. We layed on the deck and he traced his finger along my forehead. He was right, it did feel nice. If this was the way that I was going to go, it couldn’t be too bad. 

“Tell Mama sorry I couldn’t make it to dinner with Pop tonight. Bring me some summer sausage on Sunday mornings instead of flowers, just make sure to take the outside part off.” 

I’m coming, Gran, I’m coming Aunt Jilly, I thought as I closed my eyes tight. I could feel freckles growing on my cheeks and nose from the sun. Maybe i’d start to look like that frog, with splotches and orangey red all over my face. 

[no-rizz-gideon]

emmy 🔥 - Last Thursday at 3:14pm “I crave dog thief Taako”

Taako carries out some vigilante canine justice and Kravitz is some form of Lawful. Enjoy.

In Los Angeles it wasn’t necessarily weird to see a guy in a floor length teal skirt and shining gold fanny pack sipping on a large frappuccino, but the fact he was walking in excess of ten dogs definitely punted him into ‘unusual’ territory.

It was a dreary grey day, and he sashayed down the street like a ray of technicolour sunshine, bringing dogs and bustling movement, and Kravitz wondered if he looked very different from an angel, assuming they existed.

Kravitz had just got off work. Though he would never admit it, he was roasting in his all-black ‘uniform’, and almost envied the freedom of a floaty skirt, skimming ethereal along the sidewalk with the dogs flanking him like a pack of familiars. There was something unreal about this guy, and Kravitz wondered if the eighteen hour shift had taken its toll, making him fuzz around the edges and seem a little brighter than the rest of the grey street. He walked like a supermodel, graceful even in heels, all long willowy limbs and a skirt that clung to his calves, every bit of him elegantly poised.

From the bus stop Kravitz watched how the dogs seemed to beam up at the guy as they bustled along the sidewalk. They dodged obstructions with an easy fluidity, and he moved unerringly within the pack, never having to glance down to ensure he didn’t step on them, one hand on his frapp while the other held his phone, texting with his thumb. It was a strange kind of magic, Kravitz thought, that the guy didn’t stumble. It took something special to be able to multitask like that, and look so graceful while doing it; the brim of his extremely wide hat bouncing with each step, only affording Kravitz snapshots of his face, with high cheekbones and an elegant jaw, long hair tucked behind his ears as he kept his eyes fixed on his phone.

Kravitz wondered, briefly, how much this guy was earning per hour to walk all those dogs, assuming he was a professional. It certainly looked like a professional endeavour. All the dogs seemed happy and he appeared to have a handle on them, able to stop them lunging at a new dog tied up outside a shop front.

With a glance across the street, the guy paused in front of the new dog. He leaned down to pet it as the other fuzzy bodies and wagging tails shrouded it from view, and Kravitz found himself smiling as it was sniffed by the entourage of a dozen or so new friends, all very excited to meet it.

When the guy moved off, the dog was gone.

Kravitz blinked once, then twice, and glanced after the man as he glided away, just as fluid and natural as before, shades pulled down over his eyes and the brim of his hat obscuring his face. Had he… had he really just seen that? Had he imagined it?

Maybe it was a pickup? The guy had arranged with the owner to… leave the dog leashed up outside Whole Foods. No. No, that didn’t seem right, of course not, but… He’d just witnessed dog theft. Was that even a thing?

Kravitz looked to the Whole Foods, then back to the guy, then to the Whole Foods again. Then he scowled and hurried after the dog thief.

“Excuse me,” he called, lifting a hand as he crossed the road, a thin line growing steadily between his brows. “Excuse me, sir.”

The thief kept walking, tapping away on his phone, and Kravitz might have been imagining it but it seemed like his pace picked up a notch.

“Excuse me, if you could just- EXCUSE ME.”

It was very difficult to pick his way through the buffer of dogs, who all beamed up at him and snuffled at his pockets and hands, but as soon as he got close enough he could definitely see the new dog milling within them. It was a matted clump of creamy brown fur amongst a sea of others, mouth open and panting gleefully. It almost looked like it was grinning.

The dog-walking supermodel turned off down a side street, taking another sip of his drink, and Kravitz lunged forwards, setting a hand on his arm and planting his feet.

“Excuse me, sir,” Kravitz said, voice low and firm.

“Ow, watch it thug, that shit’s gonna bruise.”

The thief turned, leashes wrapping around his thighs, and raised a delicately arched eyebrow that had definitely been threaded and dyed some time within the last few weeks. His glasses rested on the bridge of his nose below heavy-lidded eyes, and he pushed the brim of his hat up to look nonchalantly at Kravitz. He seemed incredibly unbothered.

“I think you have something that doesn’t belong to you,” Kravitz said, letting go of his arm and leaning on his words very carefully.

“Uh, yeah, the dogs? No shit, I don’t own fourteen dogs, who the fuck do I look like? I’m walking them, dumbshit, it’s kinda my job?” His voice went up at the end of each discretely packaged clause, and he looked vastly inconvenienced.

No way was this happening. Kravitz was slightly taken aback, blinking once, twice, and glancing down to the dog that was definitely a recent addition, wriggling round and sniffing and tugging on the leash as the rest waited patiently.

“I saw you take that dog,” Kravitz said, pointing to the dirty one who stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of the well-groomed entourage, looking up at him with adoring eyes and a small pink tongue lolling out. “If you don’t return it I’m going to have to report it. I’m sure it has an owner already, you can’t just take things that don’t belong-”

“Relax, stud, I’m with the police.” Rolling his eyes, the guy reached into his pocket and flashed a… business card? He was pouting on the picture, and it stated his name as Taako Taaco, in bright pink font, though it was scooped away too fast for Kravitz to get a good look.

“Actually, /I’m/ with the police.” Kravitz reached into his jacket and pulled out a lanyard.

He’d never seen the colour drain from someone’s face so quickly.

“Oh shoot,” the guy - /Taako/ - said, voice warbling softly, eyes widening as he peered up from under the brim of his hat. There was a soft tapping sound, and Kravitz realised he was still texting with one thumb, his phone down by his hip. “These heels aren’t made for running.”

Kravitz raised an eyebrow and slotted his card back inside his jacket.

“Please don’t chase me. I’m too pretty to run, and I didn’t set my foundation,” Taako said, sighing.

“I can’t chase you if you don’t run,” Kravitz said, glancing down at the stolen dog.

The moment hung, and Kravitz was half expecting Taako to throw the frappuccino at him and sprint. But he just stood there, glancing at his dogs and back up to Kravitz, teeth worrying at his rosy lower lip, coated in a lacquer Kravitz was sure cost more than was reasonable.

“OK, so, listen. I can totally explain all this away,” Taako said, speaking with his hands even though one was full of frapp and the other waved his phone around. “You’re not getting the big picture here.”

“Do go on.”

“…Didn’t think I’d get this far.” Taako stalled, biting his lip again. Kravitz noted with a weird lurch of his stomach that he had a charming gap between his front teeth. “OK. So. I work with… a guy. Who rehomes dogs like this. But he can’t legally repossess them.”

“So you /illegally/ repossess them?”

“Well, sure, it sounds shitty if you put it like that.” Taako rolled his eyes, bringing his phone up and opening an album, flicking through the pictures and holding one right up in Kravitz’s face.

It was the dog, sitting in a dirty backyard by an empty water bowl, looking terribly sad.

Kravitz frowned. “So call the pound.”

“He IS the pound, doofus, it takes months to go to court and get a warrant. And the dog might be dead by then. You want that? Want a dead fucking dog on your hands? Just watch, buster, I’ll sneak in Godfather-style and leave this little guy in your fucking bed.” Taako gestured down to the dog, almost pouting.

Kravitz looked at the dog again, and the other dogs, too.

“Are they stolen too?”

“No. Mostly. Some of them.” Taako pointed at one, tall and skinny and dark haired. “She’s a Sammy, had to shave her because she was all matted to shit. Owner didn’t want to take care of her past feeding her and whoring her all over Instagram.” He looked to his other side and picked up a little one, shoving it right in Kravitz’s face. “This is Fischer. He’s my friend’s. Came from a puppy farm, brought mom with him, he was the only one that survived because they were left in their own shit and-”

Fischer sniffed at Kravitz and licked his nose with an unreasonably tiny pink tongue.

“Aww, see that? He likes you! He’s saying ‘please don’t arrest my dad, shockingly handsome police officer, he’s way too cute to go to jail’.”

Taako was practically batting his eyelids, bringing the puppy back in closer to his chest, and Kravitz considered the rest of the dogs. There was definitely more than one leash twined around his ankles. He was going to eat shit if he turned round too quick.

“HEY!”

They both turned back towards the road. A lady was storming down the side street towards them, waving her arms.

“Oh shit. Now you’ve done did it,” Taako grumbled. Shoving his glasses further up his face, he set Fischer back down and gathered the dogs in, tutting his tongue and unzipping the fanny pack. They all drew closer, looking up at him, tails wagging as he fished out a bone shaped treat.

“HEY, THAT’S MY DOG! THAT’S MY DOG, GIVE HIM BACK.”

“Listen, lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“THAT’S MY FUCKING DOG, YOU IDIOT, GIVE HIM BACK OR I’M GONNA SUE YOUR ASS OFF.”

“Hey, you left him out on the sidewalk in hundred degree weather, surprises me you even noticed he was missing,” Taako said, giving a shitty smirk as he dropped a treat straight into the stolen dog’s waiting mouth.

“Give me my fucking dog or I’m gonna beat your ass, you scrawny fa-”

“Excuse me,” Kravitz cut in, stepping between the two of them and holding a hand up, eyes like thunder. She scowled at him, her car keys clutched in one hand and her Whole Foods bag in the other.

“Yeah? What the fuck do you want?”

“I think you’re going to want to let this go,” Kravitz said, reaching inside his jacket and fishing out his ID. It looked very municipal, very official, and he might have shown off a flash of handcuffs with the same motion.

“What the fuck? That’s my dog, you can’t just threaten me, I have RIGHTS-”

“I’m sure the LAPD would be very interested to know about a dog housed outside with no access to shelter or clean food or water,” Kravitz said, coolly. “In fact, I believe Act 17 of the Animal Protection Act puts the minimum fine for that at around $5,000. Interesting, isn’t it?”

She gaped for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a fish on land, looking around him to Taako and back to Kravitz, silently fuming.

“You know what?” she said. “Keep it. Cost $30 from Petsmart I can get another one. Keep the shitty dog, it’s got diabetes anyway.”

She huffed and turned on her heel, and Kravitz felt himself release a sigh he hadn’t realised he was holding. He turned to Taako, trying very carefully not to step on any paws. Taako had the /shittiest/ grin plastered right across his face.

“Oh boy. That’s kinda hot, you know, I, uh, love a man who knows his legislation.”

“Did it sound convincing?” Kravitz asked, cracking half a smile. “I’m not even sure if the Animal Protection Act is a real thing.”

“Kind of a shitty cop, huh?”

Kravitz chuckled. “I’m not actually a cop. I’m a bail bondsman with the Raven-”

“Shut UP, so you couldn’t arrest me?” Taako said, gaping.

“Not unless you have a warrant out?”

“Mmm. Not in California.” Taako winked, dipping his shades just far enough that Kravitz could see it. He was back to being as sparkling and charismatic as he had been before, chuckling and checking his phone again. “Well, sir, thank you so very much for your time. I know Barold here will be looking forward to his new home.”

“Barold?”

“Inside joke. Hey, I never caught your name?”

“Kravitz. You’re… Taako?”

“Yep. Taako Taaco, so good they named me twice.” He took another sip of his drink and winked, checking his phone and sighing as he tapped out another text. “Well, I better let my buddy know I don’t need rescuing. But you should call me sometime, boyo. Let me thank you.” He might have winked again, or it might have been a trick of the light.

“It’s really no trouble.”

“I insist.” Taako fished a card out his pocket, offering it to him.

“…Dog walker and chef? A dog chef?”

“Do you have any dogs that need cooking for? I do people-food too. Make a baller macaroon.”

“No dogs, I’m afraid. I work strange hours.”

“Huh. Good thing I’m freelance.” Taako gave a smouldering grin with half of his mouth and looked Kravitz up and down. “Call me sometime, stud. You got my number.”

“I certainly do. If you need any bail enforcing you, uh, you know where to come.”

He faltered his way through the sentence, white knuckling it to the end, and realised exactly how stupid it sounded once he ground out the last word.

Taako just chuckled, eyes sparkling as he pushed his glasses back over his nose and tossed his hair back over his shoulder. “I sure do. See you later, Kravlova.”

“Oh no.”

Taako sauntered away, smiling, dogs panting around his feet, and Kravitz was left holding a business card that smelled vaguely like wet dog and roses.

His bus roared past behind him, and he swore quietly as he turned and started the trudge back to the bus stop.

[bernicefitcpt-blog]

My first Sprint Triathlon Experience

I could probably count on one hand how many times I trained for each sport event leading to the weeks that I put on that tight one piece. Not that I didn't take the training seriously, but that's what my time allowed for me to do. Just so freakin' happy that I did finished my first triathlon event.... AND LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF IT! ... And gotta love those automatic PR's: 1:31:33

Morning of : 

SETTING UP:Found a spot in the 2nd row of the racks next to a Brazilian lady #55 who looked like she knew what she was doing, and another nice lady named Brenda who helped me a ton! First, she did mention to keep a narrower space for myself in case someone wanted to come next to me. So i did. Then another lady came super close to my front tire with her stuff. She looked a little more nervous. And even Leanne, the lady who checked me in came by and said hi to me! She said she's been doing tri's since her late 20s and she’s now 60! You go mama! She looked like early 40s. Dang, I wanna me like that! So i'm feeling super NEWBIE status and I'm here looking like a lost child haha. I asked Brenda if theres a certain way she sets up her transition area and yup! Makes sense. Place it in the order you'll be using it. 

Heres a pic of it:

Here are some things I wish I knew: Bring something I could step into to rinse my feet. Maybe a stool would help? Have my phone ready to go on my bike. Stretch your hamstrings and hip flexors with the ball and foam roller more.     And a huge thing: having a running belt! Since i knew i had to run with my number on me, I took my lululemon fanny pack strap and attached my number to it. Brenda was the one who told me I didn't need to put my number on yet as I was practicing putting my pins on haha. So thank God i had that. Or else I would be fidgeting with it. 

SWIM:

Training: Thinking back to my first time ever competitive swimming event at the Honolulu Triathlon (Sprint - 750m), it made me want to practice this more than anything else. I really thought this might be the hardest part for me during the actual race day. The last time I had am actually in person swimming lesson was when I was like 5? Lol so, I read my books (usually the most confusing bc I need to visualize everything), watched some YouTube videos, and observed swimmers as I went to Palolo Valley Swimming pool. After discovering this pool that was only 5 min from my gym, I went a total of 3 times to practice on my swim! Each time I would do at least 600m, just to practice harder than my actual race length. One time I got 700m in the 40 min I decide to swim. You don't realize how much of a workout swimming actually is! One of the biggest lessons I learned is to STAY CALM. In the midst of putting my body in a mild hypoxic state where you're not breathing as you normally would. "THE BREATH IS SO IMPORTANT" - seriously cereal! As a Yoga teacher and personal trainer that starts with talking about the breath and diaphragmatic breathing, I realized that without this, we are nothing! Well, not nothing, but we are more likely to get anxious and if so consistent, could lead to depression! No good! 

Anyway, back to the swim training!  I also swam in open water like twice only, but next time think I should do more because the ocean water vs pool water is like night and day difference. From the breathing technique to just the extra resistance you get from the thickness of the water, current, and waves, I'll definitely be swimming more in open water. Elenor, the nice older lady who's retired from doing like idk 20 or 40 ( i just know a lot lol) of triathlons, she said the same thing, especially 2 days before the race which was the last time I swam to train. 

Day of:

Favorite part!! (Surprisingly!) I was probably most excited for this because I saw how working on my technique since the HNL TRI has worked for me!! As I jumped into the water to swim to the buoys to start, i started feeling a little like "sea sick." Never felt that before going into a swim. We had 3 min to swim to the buoys bc i was on the 2nd heat! (Go orange swim caps! Pink would have matched me but i wouldve had to be doing the relay. Lol i would mention this bc my color theme was black, grey, and bright pink haha)   Ran into fewer ppl this time at the start. Thank God! Being kicked in the face and swam on my legs isn't a joy. Mma in the water anyone? Haha During the swim, I was just focusing on breathing technique and continuing to swim without stopping. OH! and making sure i was swimming in a straight line to my destination. I was actually done in what felt to me was a quick 12 min and 44 seconds. I still had energy to run barefoot to the transition area! Yeeee! Haha

TRANSITION: should have not messed with my phone and trying to put it in my ziplock bag to put in my back pocket haha. Oh well. Lesson learned! I will need to get one of those bike phone things. Also my bluetooth didn't connect to my phone and fitbit. But i put my phone and fitbit on for my bike and run.

BIKE 

Training: I purchased my bike only like at the end of July from a guy that didn't need it anymore for super cheap in comparison what they normally go for. Thanks facebook marketplace! Lol! So i was told to get clips for the pedals and to get specific tri shoes. Went to the Bicycle Shop first to let them check my bike out. Turns out that my tires were extremely flat! I get one of these . I rode it for 3 miles before that around Kapiolani park to just get used to it. Also used for maybe only 2 miles at Lanikai. Felt normal to me, but hey... what do i know! I felt so accomplished just doing that! Went to Boca Hawaii  to get those. I had no idea that i actually had to put the clips on the bottom of the shoes. Learned a lot from the chick who didn't even bike but helped me to pick out the shoes and clips. It was then i realized this is not going to be a cheap sport. $120 tri shoes, $55 clips. Then i checked out the biking gear. Got myself my tri one piece. The girl (forgot her name)told me ppl like it bc it gives less room for drag or something like that. I got the small so it was skin tight. Plus i thought maybe i would lose weight if i trained more. $150. Thankfully i got the friends of Boca discount.     

Brought myself to Ko Olina to practice with my clips. I was told by a friend and also the girl working at Boca. "Yah. You're going to fall." And me in my head: “Nah. I know how to ride a bike.” Best believe, put on clip in for the first time. Then BOOM. Fell over on the side i put my one clip in! Even the Ko Olina security asked me if I was ok. Haha. Felt super comfy with it. Riding fast is fun! Just my butt hurts after a while sitting. Did 3 miles that day too. The next time i biked, ran, and swam at Ala Moana it wasn’t that far.  My last time practicing riding was half the course of the actual. Went to Kahala area to diamond head and around Monsarrat. Learned I shouldn't stop when charging a hill. Had to test out my gears and go on a hill. One of the scariest parts for me is trusting all the cars around me to not run me over. Single lanes for a car and bike freak me out. I now know how a biker feels with cars speeding up next to him or her. Im like 1. Don’t fall 2. Don’t fall. 3. Don’t get hit. Thank God for helmets! Thankfully i didn't fall or get hit this time. Lol! 

Day of: I learned so much!! Felt fast from my swim and ready to bike like a wild woman lol. Took long deciding whether to put my phone in my back pocket in a zip lock or int pouch. Big no no bc it cost me some time!  Kind of slow getting my clips in the bike after reviewing some of the footage Rich uploaded of me. But once i was off, I was off! They had huge blue signs with black arrows which showed me where to go. One of the most challenging parts was avoiding the potholes on the road in the quick turns in the neighborhood. Here's the bike path:  

My favorite part of biking was riding down the hill on kilauea ave. I figured out to change my gears on the hills which wasn't so bad dafter all. It actually felt faster than 46 min. The hardest part was going up Monsarrat. I'm so glad that we had the whole road to ourselves so we don't need to worry about getting run over. Cops blocked traffic every time they would see a bike coming. I was so glad to come to the finish line and see Rich there recording me and cheering. I slowly got off my bike because the inside of my thighs and upper hamstrings were done. It felt like i was coming off a long ride off a horse.

RUN:

Training: i would practice a slow jog after practicing on the stationary bike to "condition" my legs. This was not nearly enough to simulate how it would actually feel on race day but what did I know! I never biked more than 6 miles outside. Only about 14 miles inside on a stationary bike then to a .7 to 1 mile jog walk. Nope! Not like it! 

At the transition: I put my Lululemon socks on, already had my number on from the bike transition, and put on my favorite Hoka running shoes. Put on my Lululemon Visor and BAM! I was off! 

Day of: i haven't hurt that much starting a jog/run. To motivate me, the little girl who was 11 old passed me up with her mom! At first, i passed her but maybe into the first mile i felt soooo uncomfortable. I felt restricted  so i unzipped the front of my one piece tri suit. Ahhhh... homer simpson status?! Lol Just wanted to get to the finish line but enjoying my last few moments of my first tri! When I ran, i felt like I could think more clearly. Talked to myself a lot to motivate myself. What was going on in my head?! Thought about how grateful I was to God for giving me these abilities to do a triathlon"Are you pushing yourself the most you could!?" I sped up. All the way to the finish line. Pretty much a sprint with my legs hurting already. Saw Rich yelling, and BOOM! Didn't slow down til I was past the finish line! At the end, i went to the booth to get my shirt - which was my medal. About 10 minutes later I saw my friend Milli and then about 20 minutes later I saw my brother, mom, sis in law, baby nephew, and their dog. It was so great to have them all there! 

After: In about 30 min to 45 min I checked the scores. It said I placed 3rd. So during the awards, they called my age group (25-29 yo) and the 3rd place winner. It wasn’t me! So I thought, it’s okay. I didn’t place. Then they said on the mic, “In 2nd place, Bernice Aurellano!” I was pretty shocked. Came home with a cool successory too! Earrings! Check it out: 

Definitely doing it again. Actually, just signed up for my next triathlon sprint this coming Sunday! Excited to see what my body, mind, and spirit are capable of doing this time around. To the Ko Olina Race we go! 

Picture of my fam afterwards: 

The traditional FINISH LINE photo! LOVE LOVE LOVE the feeling of getting through to the finish line! 

Check out this awesome Video - posted on instagram @BerniceFitCPT and Youtube - created by my love, Rich! 

Until next time.... I’ll tell you about my 2nd experience! 

Aloha,

Bernice