#'I used to wear eyeliner like that and all the boys flocked to me like geese to bread'

[deaderthandoubledead]

So we all agree that the reason AU Silco was late to the party (and arriving exactly just before Powder's big entrance) was because he was helping his daughter get ready for her date? There's a reason why she's dressed like young him

[eddywoww]

Listen

Steve as a frat boy who would obviously clearly very much never look at another boy and he has a crush on this girl who’s bi and Robin is like yeah I don’t think you’re her type at all but Steve is Steve and he keeps trying to charm her and it isn’t working, so he’s like hey Robin can I please come to your queer alliance meeting bc she’s gonna be there and I want to show her I’m an ally

And Robin is like I Don’t Think That’s What Being An Ally Is, Steve. With the blandest look on her face but she lets him come with her anyway because she thinks it could be entertaining and god knows watching Steve strike out is FUNNY

so Steve goes to a little introduction night for new members with her and he meets the “board” and their president is this like, guy. This guy who is unfortunately pretty in a way that Steve isn’t used to. And he wears all these rings and eyeliner and he’s so loud and boisterous and funny and Steve can see the girl HE likes watching THIS fucking guy and he just deflates because like yeah, of course. Of course Steve isn’t interesting enough here at college. He’s just like every other frat guy in existence and he doesn’t even know how to step out of his carefully constructed comfort zone

Cut to Steve holding a grudge against Eddie but still coming to events. Standing around with his arms crossed, all grumpy and pissed off because the girl he likes won’t even look at him and of course she’s always watching Eddie because everyone is always watching Eddie

And then one day Eddie confronts him but it’s not actually a confrontation. He just walks up to him at a party and goes “You know I’m gay, right? Like gay-gay. Like very into men, not into *insert girls name here*” and Steve is stunned and doesn’t know what to say. So he doesn’t say anything. No. He panics and runs out of the party and avoids Eddie for an entire week.

A week of over thinking. Because Eddie is gay. Which shouldn’t be shocking but Steve hadn’t been paying attention at their intros, he’d been too distracted by the stupid eyeliner. Which should have been an indication in the first place, really. He starts thinking about Eddie and then he can’t stop thinking about Eddie.

Until Robin invites Steve out to a nightclub and she’s being shady about it but Steve doesn’t even ask because he’s too stressed about his own thoughts to even realize but then he gets to her dorm and several people are there and one of those people is Eddie and he’s getting ready, laughing with all these girls and- and he offers to put eyeliner on Steve. Gets him up on the tiny bathroom counter with the door closed, the girls listening to music and shouting just beyond. And Eddie makes him stay very still, pencils the eyeliners on with gentle hands. Smiling at Steve, close enough to smell his cologne.

“Didn’t think you’d go for this,” Eddie says, quirking the funniest smile at Steve. It feels like a challenge, so-

“I’m very adventurous,” Steve says without thinking. Eyes blinking open a moment later to Eddie smirking at him. “That’s not- I didn’t mean-“

“Oh no, go on. How adventurous are you, Stevie?” Eddie asks, recapping his pencil. “Adventurous enough to stop being weird around me?”

“I’m not weird around you,” Is what Steve chooses to say. With all the air of a cornered animal, panicking for zero reason. Eddie raises an eyebrow and Steve deflates. “I’m not. You just- you intimidate me. That’s all.”

Eddie looks surprised, shocked maybe.

“And why’s that?” He asks. And it sucks because then Steve starts spilling his guts out to Eddie, right there in Robins tiny bathroom.

“You’re just- you’re confident and you wear these clothes that I don’t think I could ever get away with and everyone listens to you and watches you and flocks to you and I’m kind of just, like. Here, you know? Like I’m not as bright as you. A lot of people aren’t as bright as you.”

Eddie watches Steve for a beat. Really stares into his fucking soul.

“That’s stupid,” He says, smiling smaller now as he leans both hands in next to Steve’s hips. As he pushes into his space and doesn’t let up. “You’re so bright. It’s almost blinding. I’ve just been waiting for you to actually talk to me.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks quietly because yeah, he can’t think. Eddie is too close. He’s right there, leaning into Steve.

He mutters, “Yeah.” And finally kisses him. As it turns out, Steve wasn’t that interested in that girl at all.

[dont-f-with-moogles]

Terra Darling 💖

What about 50 with Armin ? [The other character(s) involved is/are up to you]

Tysm 😘

Drunk Drabbles 50: "This is girl talk, so leave.” Here you are, Val! Avec Armin as you requested.

Girl Talk Characters: Levi, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Jean, Connie, Historia Word Count: 686 words

Levi stood in the shadow of the old storehouse. Peering from beneath his cloak, he surveyed the empty streets of Trost. The sky was hung heavily with grey; the promise of an impending storm. 

He lowered his hood and retreated back inside the building where he had left the younger recruits. All were crowded under one of the brick arches which ran abreast of the long, dimly lit room. As Levi approached, the clamour of their voices grew even louder.

“You can’t apply foundation that thickly,” Mikasa was scolding Historia, “look, you’ve left a tidemark on his neck. You need to blend it further down, like this.” She leaned down to rub the skin of Armin’s neck with two outstretched fingers. 

“This isn’t a fucking makeup tutorial!” Eren exploded, his voice echoing around the storehouse’s lofty ceiling. “If we don’t split up now the anti-personnels will just ambush us!”

“Hate to admit it but Jaeger’s right,” Jean sighed, “can’t he just go like that? I can’t even see a tidemark.”

Levi stood listening in quiet disbelief.

“You know, maybe you two should just go on ahead then,” Armin tried genially, despite the tremor in his voice, “after all this is girl talk, so leave, why don’t you?”

“I’ll hurry this up!” Eren dived upon the makeup bag which Historia was clutching. He withdrew a mascara wand and brandished it at Armin’s face. 

“Tell me how to do it!” he demanded.

As Mikasa stepped aside, Levi could see Armin seated upon a wooden chair, his hands clutching his knees. He was dressed in a white blouse which clashed horribly with the clownish shade of orange coating his face. A long, cotton peasant skirt fell from his waist past his ankles. He was eyeing Sasha who had been clicking an eyelash curler experimentally at him whilst Eren advanced upon him with the mascara. 

“Sasha, I’m begging you… let me do my eyes myself. It’s standard procedure when applying makeup, I believe. I- I’ve read books…”

“But I’ll try my best!” Sasha assured him with a particularly emphatic click of the curler, “um, how many eyelashes do you not need?”

“Don’t pull too many,” Mikasa warned her. “He still needs to be able to blink.”

“Uncanny…” Levi breathed, thinking back to the long night he and Hange had spent extracting various parts of Sannes’ face. He shook the memory from his mind with a quiet grunt of disapproval.

“Oi.”

All heads turned towards him. 

“I told you to never congregate in a group! It’s not safe.” Levi swept out an arm, sending the group scattering like a flock of birds. “Get out of here now!”

As Connie stumbled last out of the door, Levi glared once more at Armin. To the boy’s surprise, he lifted the makeup bag and inspected its contents carefully. Then Levi withdrew an eyeliner pen.

“Stay still.” 

Armin could scarcely believe it as Captain Levi, Humanity’s Strongest, grasped him by the chin. He tilted Armin’s head upwards and, holding the eyeliner in his free hand, bit down and tore off the cap.

“Close your eyes,” he slurred over the plastic cap held between his teeth. Trembling, Armin obliged. Gently, Levi drew a small black flick upon the boy’s eyelid. It was all Armin could do to suppress a flinch.

“You just want to sweep it across the lid,” Levi advised, gently adorning Armin’s other eye. The young scout made a small, nervous sound in reply.

“And if the others ask, I was not part of this girl talk shit. I have a reputation to uphold, Arlet. One word and I’ll force feed you the entire contents of this bag.”

Bonus: Outside, Jean was tugging a dark, brown wig over his sand-coloured hair. He ruffled the top of his head and then stood back to check the effect in a shop window. Swearing, he hurled the item to the dusty pavement. 

“I’m not wearing this! I look nothing like you anyway!” he snarled. Eren, who was slouched by the adjoining wall, gave a shrug.

“Exactly. That’s cause I don’t look like a fucking farm animal.”

My askes are always open. So who you gonna call? 👉 Drabble challenge.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Princess | JJ Maybank

Warnings; jealousy, mentions of drugs, and use of drugs.

Find my masterlist here

She was rising through the ranks on figure eight, and soon, she would overtake the one, the only, Sarah Cameron. It was infuriating, no one had heard of this prissy girl in a while, and here she was, already beginning to replace the blonde.

“Uh.” Sarah groaned, noticing how even her brother was flocking over you, even Topper had returned to the dark side after his helpful stunt.

“What’s wrong Cameron?” JJ asked her, following her eyeline, and carrying his gaze along it, until he found the centre of her irritable - a group of kooks, her own.

“The princess is back in town.” She groaned, noticing how you walked through your entourage, oblivious to any of the pogues that resided on this side of the island. It was as though you didn’t hold a grudge against their species, but that was her thing, you were just trying to copy her actions.

Hell, for all she knew, you’d hook up with a southsider too, and attend the parties at the boneyard as though you were one of their own.

She knew her attitude towards you was petty, but she just couldn’t help it. You now had everything that she had lost, she was even stared down by her dad and step mother, both of whom were mildly disappointed in the side that she had taken within the whole ordeal.

“I thought that was you.” JJ noticed how her mood had turned sour, and he was aware that it was his duty to cheer her up. If John B returned with their drinks, and saw that his girlfriend was displeased, he would be the one to take the blame as it was his company that was keeping her from boredom.

“That girl.” She pointed you out, JJ’s eyes scanning every dip and curve, each mark and mole, upon your body, memorising every inch of- “is the kook. Used to have the mantle of princess before I did. Don’t dirty your hands with her Maybank, she’s a spoilt brat, and whatever she wants, she gets.”

“A kook? Not my type.” He assured her, the whole form of your beautiful being crumbling in his eyes, all because of what you essentially were. A golden finger, in the dirt of his home.

🏹

The Cameron’s house was large, but you smiled, knowing that you lived in one with a bigger foundation, and more floors. Material items were value on the island, it gave way to status.

“Hi Mr Cameron.” You greeted him, with a pristine smile that would knock him dead. Rafe was beside you, content with your obliviousness to the things that he had done.

His father had told him to find a rich, pretty thing. They were the least suspecting ones, too occupied with spending cash and dolling themselves up. It is what he himself had done, after he had worked his way up to kook status, but the wife he now had, well she was as devious and power hungry as him. They fit perfectly.

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve heard a lot about you, not only from my son but practically the whole island. Is it good to be back?” He shook your hand, noticing the small smile slip onto his son’s face.

“It’s great, nowhere is quite like home.” The hierarchy on Outer Banks was its most predominant feature, no where else quite had an order that lacked most of itself in the same way.

“I need to talk to Rafe here for a moment, would you mind waiting here?” He expectedly asked, and once more, you could only plaster on a false expression, and happily nod.

“Not at all.” Was your reply, and as soon as they had disappeared, you were left awaiting for their return. You plucked at the skin around your nails, and tapped your foot, trying to reduce the enveloping silence that made you feel small and anxious.

Another person entered the room, making you slowly spin to greet them. It was Sarah, and a look of worry crossed over her face, it was quite amusing. The Sarah Cameron, was concerned for you.

“Rafe isn’t a good guy.” She spoke slowly, thinking that you were interested in her older sibling. It made you quirk your eyebrow in surprise, you had never expected her to talk about her family to you, or at all in general. “You can do a lot better.”

“Don’t worry Sarah, I don’t want him, nor do I want to be the so called ‘princess’ of this wealthy establishment. I hate figure eight, it sucks. It’s boring, it’s just parties here, and parties there, but they’re all sophisticated and you have to dress nicely. Sure, the luxury is great, the expectations of washing your hair every day, wearing perfume that literally burns my eyes, and having to dress so- ugh, it’s just gross. You can take the throne back if you want, it’s not too comfortable, it squeezes me in all th wrong places.”

Your paragraph of speech left Sarah in shock, you had been faking it all along. The laughs were all pretend, the smiles were all forced, and she no doubt had one thing left on my mind. “Then why, out of all the kooks, are you hanging it with my brother?”

Nonchantly you shrugged, a sparkle flaring in your eyes. “He thinks he’s gonna get laid, and so until he realises that he isn’t, and he can’t touch this hot bod, then I get free weed.”

“Well played y/l/n, well played.” Nobody had used Rafe and had to give nothing in return, yet you had found the perfect trick.

“He also thinks I’m a virgin, sooooo, my contract is going to last a while, I suppose.” She almost laughed at that, she wondered how you had given him that impression in the first place. Before you had moved, she had seen you makeout and consentually grope countless guys, leading them to dark corners and your empty car.

It wasn’t something that she had ever admit, but for the first time in her life, she thought that you’d make the perfect friend. You sounded just like a pogue, but instead you were living the ‘high life’, and rolling in the cash and smokes that were thrown your way, with no charge.

🏹

JJ on instinct, creased his face up at the sight of Sarah leaving John B and the others at the boneyard, only to walk over to an intruder. She had told him that she didn’t like her, however her stride and smile supposed otherwise.

“Who’s that?” John B leant over his friend’s shoulder, watching his girlfriend interact with a stranger.

“The kook princess.” JJ informed him, spitting the name out of his mouth, glaring at the kook that had the nerve to once again, walk onto his side of his island. And not only that, but to invite herself to the party.

“She got a name?” John B asked, and that was when JJ realised, that he didn’t know it. Before you had moved, you kept to your side of the island, but the times were changing, with relationships and friendships between pogues and kooks beginning. All you wanted was to be accepted, and if they didn’t like the fact that you were born a kook, then that was most definitely their problem.

“Hey, I’m so glad that you could make it.” Sarah greeted you, you shyly smiled, still not familiar with her being so polite to you. You’d notice her cast you the stink eye on more than one occasion, and how she would speak about you at school in the time prior to your move away.

“I still don’t understand why you invited me.” You honestly said, uncertain by her intentions. If she had other motivations, then you could deal with them, she wouldn’t be the first one to try and challenge you for your position. And either way, you didn’t want it, it were only a weight on your shoulders, but some kooks wanted you to remain their royalty, and so by their reputation, you did.

You pulled a blunt from your shorts pocket, and lit it, inhaling slowly and awaiting an answer from the relaxant. It calmed you, and made the thoughts of being the only kook here, excluding Sarah, go away.

“I want you to meet my friends.” She spoke, and you nodded, more entertained by the smoke that rolled out of your mouth than her intentions. Her hand grabbed your own, and she began to drag you through the sea of people, until she reached a small fire pit, where four people were sat.

You already knew of them, John B being the one on your side of the island the most. It of course was because of Sarah, and her successful attempts to seduce him, and sneak him into her room.

“This is y/n.” She told them, and you didn’t notice the way JJ focused on the weed that hung from the clasp of your fingers. He was surprised by the consumption you had of it, and watched intently as you went in for another puff.

You weren’t just a kook, you were a stoner. Perhaps the two of you had something in common after all, maybe you weren’t this spoilt brat entirely.

🏹

“Pass me the goddamn lighter J!” You beckoned at the blonde, who held the red automatic match out of your reach. On instinct, you crossed your arms, and poured, causing the boy to laugh.

“Don’t do that, you look like a spoiled kook.” His words only earnt himself a glare, and so he reached down, plucked your blunt between his fingers, and lit it. He took a puff before placing it between your own lips. “Technically we just kissed.”

“Geez, I really am spoilt.” You rolled your eyes, as the pair of you stood out of the chateau, where it was the two of you alone. Everyone else was inside, watching a movie, and they didn’t want to get high off the fumes, instead they’d rather remember the ‘cinematic details’, as Pope put it.

“It was a joke Princess.” He rubbed your head, messing up your hair, but he knew that you didn’t care. Appearances weren’t your most entailed feature, you only dressed up to the nines to please your parents. But here, with him and the rest of your friends, you could be yourself. You weren’t a kook or a pogue, instead you were just y/n.

“You need to stop going on about kissing me Maybank, otherwise I might think that it’s something you actually want to do.” You smirked, noticing how his cheeks reddened slightly, and the normally confident male gulped.

“Well...” before he could say more, you lightly pushed him, but he soon grabbed you, and the blunt out of your mouth. “Maybe I do.”

“Maybe I want you to as well.” You flirted with him, eyes darting between where he was licking his lips, and the blunt that was gently held in the pads of his fingertips. “Tell you what, if I gift you with a kiss, I get my property back.”

“Princess you gotta stop that, you can’t call me your property, I’m a person too babes.” You groaned at that, he knew full well what you were speaking about, but he had to be a tease in every conversation that the pair of you had.

“Shut your mouth pogue.” Your words weren’t what shut him up, instead you grasped the fabric of his baggy, sleeveless shirt, and pulled his mouth to your own, your tongue instantly prying its way towards his own, breaking through the seal of his lips.

Distracted, he dropped the blunt, and cupped both sides of your face. He was in heaven, finally he had given into the kook, and vice versa. He was glad to have learnt your name, and everything that you had to offer.

[sunjaesol]

THE MANY CRUSHES OF LUKE PATTERSON... AND THE ONE THAT STUCK

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

1982

Luke Patterson's first crush ever was Haley Martin. He adored the colour of her hair — like the clementines his mom bought — and the way she finger-painted, enough for his four year old eyes to stare at her in awe.

He watched her make mud pies in the sandbox from the monkey bars, only to ruin them to get a rise out of her. He couldn't understand why she didn't like him the way he did, so he nagged his mom to explain.

"Teasing girls should be fun for them too, sweetheart," she soothed. "This Haley clearly didn't like it."

He blinked. "Huh?"

Her smile stayed warm, similar to hot chocolate and whenever grandpa conjured candies from behind his ear. "Why don't you share your grapes with her tomorrow? I'm sure she'll like that."

His nose scrunched up. "Why?"

"Because it's sweet, Luke."

"I don't get that," he shrugged. "But I'll try."

The next day, he sat beside her during storybook time and that seemed to help a little already. By the time it was lunch, her mood was lifted, which excited him too, and urged him to offer the grapes.

It earned him a featherlight kiss on the cheek.

Luke squeaked in surprise, flushing a firetruck red, to which she giggled and plopped another grape in her mouth.

Three days later, his crush was gone from his mind and he began sharing his grapes with his new friend Reginald instead.

1986

"Can you ask Jessica what she thinks of me?" Luke hurriedly whispered, eyes flickering between Reggie and the girl from across the courtyard.

Normally, Luke Patterson exuded confidence. The resident class clown, always opening his jaw to react to the teacher without raising his hand, catching fights with stupid classmates, sneaking into dad's stationwagon to create mixtapes.

Fearlessness was his freaking middle name. (It was actually Beck, but whatever. He wished it was something cool like Duran Duran though.)

But when it came to girls... he got so nervous. Because they were girls! He didn't understand them! They hated rambunctious boys and only listened to stupid pop music and blabbered about how they stole makeup from their sisters.

Jessica, however, somehow made his heart flutter and his stomach twist up. She just looked cool in her dungarees and she had a pretty smile and she didn't wear that overwhelming, sugary perfume that was now popular.

Reggie snickered, in the way only eight year old boys could. "You liiiiiiike her!"

"No!" He scowled. "I–I'm just curious."

"Sure," he drawled, but then shrugged in agreement, the oversized leather jacket rustling on his shoulders. He stole it from his older brother after he saw him kissing (!!!) some girl and figured it held some magic to impress the ladies with.

"Just do it!"

With a dramatic flourish, the boy left their hiding spot, Luke lurking around the corner of the alcove to watch. Jessica looked up from her hard work of creating friendship bracelets and smiled at Reggie.

Oh, gosh. She was pretty.

A minute later, a sheepish Reg slowly crawled back to him, cheeks red and fiddling with the zipper of his jacket.

Luke grabbed his shoulders, urgent. "What did she say?"

"Uh... well..."

"C'mon, dude!"

Reggie sighed. "She... likes me, buddy. Sorry."

His hopeful face crashed into one of devestation, quickly covering it up with a laugh and a squeeze of the shoulder. Oh, man, what would Steven Tyler do?

"That– that's dope!"

In the end, Reggie and Jessica were boyfriend and girlfriend for a week while he wrote an angry poem about how stupid dungarees were.

Huh... it was surprisingly good.

1988

"Hey, Luke," Gwenn greeted, shy, tucking her hands in her Camp Wacky Rocka hoodie. "I really liked that song you made about your guitar."

Jumping from the tree branch to the ground, Luke dazzled her with an appreciative smile. From above, Reggie and their new friend Alex watched on curiously.

"Thanks!"

Who would've thought that summer camp would be the first time he made a real, girl friend! Gwenn was super cool and she played the saxophone and she liked Joan Jett and her hair was all curly and big and it reminded him of pretty clouds.

Looking over her shoulder, he noticed a gaggle of girls staring at them. Like they were waiting.

Gwenn stared at him. "Can you close your eyes?"

He frowned. "Why?"

"Just 'cause."

Whatever. Maybe she wanted to show him something cool and would stick it in his hand. Complying, he closed his eyes and impatiently waited, bouncing on his heels.

"So?"

Suddenly, he felt a light, warm touch on his mouth and — oh! She was kissing him!

Luke staggered back in surprise, gawking at a blushing Gwenn as she squeaked a sorry and ran back to the now giggling and screeching girls. They ran away like a flock of birds.

It was a dare! His first kiss, stolen by a dare!

His boys jumped down beside him, awed.

Reggie hollered. "You kissed Gwenn!"

"I don't get it," Alex muttered.

Luke's face twisted up in a sour expression. Camp Wacky Rocka should be all about the music and becoming legends and Gwenn ruined it!

He stuck his tongue out. "Whatever. Let's go to the mess hall!"

1989

When Luke turned eleven, he kissed someone for real.

His birthday party was at the arcade, loud chatter and robotic sounds clashing together in an amazing cacophony. His parents hated the place, which is why Luke loved it.

Of the twenty guests, Yasmine clapped the loudest after he finished his song with the boys — Math Is For Losers! — and grabbed his hand as they walked to a duel game.

Luke felt fuckin' giddy the entire time. (Freakin' in front of his parents, fuckin' with friends.) The swoop in his stomach, his cheeks stretched into a wide beam.

Freshly eleven and the king of the arcade, he boldly asked if he could kiss her.

She smiled, her purple headband glittering in the neon lights, and nodded.

It was short and warm and her lips tasted like pink lemonade and sour gummies and it gave him an entirely new buzz. It was exciting.

He kissed her a couple more times the days after, eager and curious, until she claimed she was now only interested in twelve year old boys.

Since Luke now held the record of most kisses between him, Alex and Reggie, he wasn't too bothered by it. They shook hands, complimented each other on the kissing, and that was that.

1992

"Are you or are you not my boyfriend?" Olivia bit, crossing her arms.

Luke sighed, lazy gaze drifting from her to his band waiting by their bikes. Damn, he thought having a girlfriend would be way easier. Why was she so tense?

"I am," he said. "Why do you think I'm not?"

"Because you ignore me, like, all the time!" Pouting, she fiddled with the hem of her tartan skirt. "And now you're going to be with your band!"

He shrugged. "You can come with us and listen, if you want."

Luke met Olivia this year as deskmates in French class. Her raven hair was long and thick and her lips were all shiny from lip gloss and maybe he got a little cocky, thinking he could be dating the hottest girl of freshman year, so he naturally asked her out.

Maybe he should've considered beforehand whether they had anything in common, but he'd always been the overzealous type. And besides... she was a good kisser.

She scoffed. "That's not any better. Whatever. I'll just hang with Tina and Priscilla then. Laters!"

Plopping a kiss on his lips, she turned around and stalked to her whispering friends. Luke puffed, adjusted the beanie and made his way to the boys.

Girls were confusing.

"I bet dating boys is easier," Alex mused. "Like, equally terrifying, but also... easier. I think. Maybe."

Bobby laughed. "How's the girlfriend, Luke?"

"Ha ha," he deadpanned. "Let's go. I got this new song, Crooked Teeth, and it's a fucking banger!"

Olivia broke up with him after Sunset Curve's first, official gig at the arcade with the explanation that he loved music more than her. He never loved her to begin with, so maybe that was the problem.

She made out with Bobby that same night.

Holy shit, man. He supposed that bitter feeling at the sight of them tasted like rock 'n roll, the one thing he actually craved.

What a funny, funny feeling. (He wrote a hell of a lot of songs about it after. He never quite looked at Bobby the same way either.)

1995

"Hey, Maisie." Leaning against the locker beside the girl, he shot her a million dollar smile. "You comin' to our gig tonight? It's at The Orpheum."

Maisie was fucking awesome. Always in short, flowery dresses and fishnet tights and thick eyeliner like a rockstar, always listening to something new on her walkman. She came from a rich family, but that didn't hinder them from becoming friends.

Her jaw fell slack in awe, him instantly gaining more confidence. Ducking his head to meet her eye, he leaned a little closer. He knew damn well what he was doing, and he got a thrill every time it worked.

"Really?" She gasped. "That's awesome! I'll so be there!"

"Sweet," he grinned. "And stay after too."

A brow quirked up, intrigued. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Just 'cause."

"Right," she drawled. "Nothing is 'just because' with you, Luke."

"And that's why you gotta stay," he teased, nudging her shoe with his. "To find out."

If they rocked that gig and he felt like a fucking legend, he hoped it would end with the two of them hooking up. He wasn't interested in dating — having learned his lesson after Olivia — and he knew she wasn't either, but she was fun.

And that was the most important to him: to have fucking fun. Luke Patterson was here for a good time, not a long time.

And if nothing happened between him and Maisie, then he'd still feel like a legend. In a couple of hours, he was going to play at The Orpheum! How gnarly was that?!

2022

Twenty-seven years later, Luke was still seventeen years old. While he preferred to not question the science behind ghostly activities — he flunked physics anyway — he was happy that he froze at this age.

Because Julie was seventeen, too.

And, man. He was madly in love with her.

He loved everything, from the babyhairs curling around her ears, to her voice and compassionate soul, to her beautiful smile, all the way to her cute, doodled sneakers.

Her epic music taste, her snark, the way she always found his gaze, the way she finished his lyrics, the way she always knew what to say to make him feel better.

His heart melted to a flickering candle whenever she hugged him, a raging wildfire erupting between every kiss. He was a fool for her.

"Stop moving," she giggled, one hand coming up to hold his chin.

He grinned, "Sorry, Jules."

Shifting closer, she dabbled more glitter on his cheeks. They were playing at a black-light club tonight, so Julie and Flynn bought all the glow in the dark makeup available at the store for the occasion.

They looked ridiculous in daylight, Julie's weirdly pink lipstick claiming all his attention, but he knew they'd look fucking cool once the lights went down.

"You want to watch a movie after the gig?" she whispered.

Luke rolled his eyes, playful. "You're gonna fall asleep."

"Yeah." With a bashful tilt of the shoulder, she leaned in closer. "But then you'll be with me."

"Julie! How scandalous," he teased, though his chest swelled at the thought of having some alone time, some cuddle time, with Julie.

"So?"

Murmuring a yes, he closed the little distance to kiss her, sealing the deal, only for her to chase after him — an attempt to wipe the lipstick stain off his lips.

"Nah, keep it." A smirk grew. "So the people know."

She tsked. "Idiot."

"You like it."

"I'm still taking it off though, seeing as you're supposed to be a hologram," she pointed out. "But... you can kiss my lipstick away after the show."

He sighed, dreamy. "I love you."

Finishing his glitter and removing the stain, she dazzled him with a satisfied smile. "Love you too."

She rose up from the couch and went to search for Reggie, the boy likely with Carlos. For a moment, Luke was alone in the studio, allowing himself to sink into that warm, fuzzy feeling.

No matter how many blunders he went through with girls — Haley, Jessica, Gwenn, Yasmine, Olivia, Maisie — they all prepared him, in one way or the other, for Julie.

To not only recognise when an awesome girl was standing right in front of him, but also how to treat her — because Julie Molina deserved the fucking world.

Even if that world now included the supernatural.

Whatever. They were all a little crazy.

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

@bluefirewrites @blush-and-books @pink-flame @ourstarscollided @constantly-singing @unsaid-emily @willexx

[irishseeeker]

                                  rules don’t apply 

Having a crush on your boss is embarrassing. Inappropriate. Wrong. Especially when your boss is Anthony Bridgerton, the most insufferable man on the planet whom you actively despise.

What does Kate have to say on the matter?

…No comment.

–

read chapter 1 here or here

read chapter 2 here or  here

read chapter 3: here or here

read chapter 4 here or here 

---

chapter 5: an (unadvised, unprofessional, unconventional) agreement

---

“I’m worried about you.”

Kate paused, the large scoop of green tea ice cream inches anyway from her mouth. Edwina and Kate had gone straight to Marys after an eventful brunch at the Bridgertons, spending the rest of the evening at hers and eating dinner. Since Edwina had told Mary the events of the morning and afternoon, Mary hadn’t stopped giving Kate the look.

Kate knew the impending inquisition was lurking all evening.

Mary had never been a parent to give out to her children. Kate couldn’t even remember a time Mary had raised her voice at Edwina or Kate. Mary took the disappointed route.

That was much worse. Her father used to shout at her and be done with it, Mary would sigh loudly, shake her head and eventually come out with, “I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed.”

So when there was something amiss or something she wanted to talk about, Mary would sigh, cast those pointed looks at Kate or Edwina until she eventually came out with what was on her mind when she had one of them cornered.

She had given Kate the talk when she was in the bath.

Like right now, when Kate was sitting in the living room distracted by ice cream and Edwina had gone to take a second shower because she was convinced she still stunk of pond water.

“Mary,” Kate started slowly, putting her spoon back into the ice cream tub. “I’m fine.”

“Kate, I worry you work too hard. You’ve always worked so hard and you know how incredibly proud I am of you,” Mary said, pausing to reach over to pat Kate’s hand. “I’m worried you’re not putting yourself out there more. I want you to enjoy your life.”

Kate felt something inside of her chest sting a little. She took a deep breath, trying not to let the anger bubbling inside of her takeover. Kate knew Mary was coming from a good place. She did. She wanted what was best for her. This wasn’t the first time she had been worried about Kate’s social life.

It was difficult sometimes, having a sister like Edwina. Kate hated herself for thinking it, she loved Ed more than anything in this world. Ed was her best friend.

It was just exhausting constantly being compared to her. Edwina had always flocks of friends throughout her entire life, whereas Kate had them, there just wasn’t many of them. It had been hard to keep up with her friends from school when she went to university. She had made lovely ones in university, but then they had all moved to different places when university ended. They chatted often and met up every few months, but it wasn’t the same as it had been when they’d seen each other everyday.

Then there was the boyfriends.

Well, boyfriend.

Kate had only introduced one boyfriend to Mary and Edwina. He had been the only guy she could introduce them to. Edwina had always had boyfriends or boys who wanted to be hers. Why wouldn’t they? She was beautiful and she was Edwina.

Kate was...Kate.

It was her only relationship in her twenty-nine years of (pitiful) existence. His name was Mark and they had dated for a year in university when Kate was twenty-one. They had broken up when university ended, Mark moved to Edinburgh and Kate to London. Long distance wasn’t something they were interested in. Breaking up had been the practical thing to do.

It still hurt, not because of him but because the one relationship she had ended because it was the practical thing to do.

She hadn’t dated on and off since then, but work got busier and busier and nothing ever was serious. Kate was better on her own. It was easier that way.

“I am enjoying my life,” Kate said, abandoning the ice cream entirely. She wasn’t in the mood anymore. “I work hard because I love my job and I want to be successful. That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy my life, Mary. Just because I’m not like Edwina doesn’t mean I’m not okay.”

Mary let out a deep sigh. This wasn’t the first time one of their conversations had led to this point. “That’s not what I meant, Kate. This has nothing to do with Edwina. This is you we’re talking about. When was the last time you went out with your friends? Or on a date?”

“Ah,” Kate said, everything clicking into place. It always came back to her non-existent dating life. “So this is an interrogation about my dating life.”

“Is it such a crime to be interested in my daughter’s life?” Mary’s tone sharpened slightly and Kate felt a tiny bit guilty. “Do you remember my friend Bernadette? She came into the cafe the other day. She has a lovely son your age who happens to be single.”

Kate’s head fell back, groaning loudly as the guilt she had been feeling quickly faded into stress. Not this again. “Mary. No.”

“Why not? He’s a solicitor! He’s very handsome,” Mary said, picking up her phone and glasses before tapping on the screen with her index finger slowly. “Bernadette showed me a picture. Here, look.”

“I don’t need my mother setting me up, that’s why!” Kate’s eyes flicked towards the door, praying Edwina would appear any moment to put this excruciating conversation to a stop. Well, actually Edwina would probably join in. Her family had a lot to say about her non-existence dating life. “My dating life is private and it’s going perfectly fine.”

“I would understand you not wanting to meet someone else,” Mary had a very suspicious look on her face and she looked slightly amused, tilting her chin up in the air with a small smirk. It made Kate uneasy. “I suppose, it would make sense. If there was something going on between you and Anthony Bridgerton.”

Kate gasped. Her head was still swirling from the events of the day and the fact that he had said I didn’t do it for them, Kate. She hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind since. “Mary! He’s my boss.”

“He’s also a man,” Mary replied quickly. “An attractive man that you have not stopped talking about since you started working there. A nice man. He’s also a man who ended up in a pond with you today and had you over for brunch.”

Kate spluttered, trying to find something comprehensive to say. What could she say? She wasn’t about to admit to her mother about the strange feelings she was having for her boss, a man she had actively loathed for so long it had become a hobby. “His mother invited us to stay for brunch. Believe me, he did not want me there.”

“Are you sure?”

Mary’s question lingered in the air.

The anxiety and uneasiness simmered in Kate’s stomach. It hadn’t left her since she had left the Bridgeton's. Well, since she arrived at the Bridgertons door covered in pond water and had brunch with his family. Since he walked her out and said those words. “I didn’t jump into that pond for Edwina or Newton, Kate.”

Was Kate sure?

She had absolutely no idea.

Kate didn’t know what to expect the following Monday morning at work.

She should have expected that she would spend her day arguing with Anthony Bridgerton.

Kate had woken up feeling uneasy. She felt nervous. She woke up at seven am, an uncomfortable feeling sitting in her stomach. It remained there as she showered, washing her hair with her fancy overpriced shampoo and conditioner that was only meant for special occasions.

Today wasn’t a special occasion. It was a Monday.

She blow dried her hair, putting a few extra minutes into styling her hair and straightening her usual curls. She even spent ten minutes torturing herself by putting on eyeliner. What was she doing? Why was she putting a significant amount of effort into how she looked? Why did it feel like she was compensating for something?

This wasn’t her.

It was just another normal day at work.

But it wasn’t.

Most of the people at work would have seen the article that came out over the weekend. Most of them, London really, read Whistledown. They would have seen the pictures of Kate and Anthony. They’d be presuming things. They would also be wondering what the hell was someone like Anthony Bridgerton doing with someone like Kate?

Men like Anthony Bridgerton didn’t go for women like Kate.

She didn’t need to be reminded of it.

Kate wanted to disappear. She didn’t want to go into work. She debated taking a sick day, which she hadn’t taken once willingly during her entire time working at Bridgerton & Family. Kate had been forced to leave work once after she fainted presenting during a meeting. It had been last summer during London’s heatwave and it was a day full of budget deadlines and presenting them to the board.

Kate had been working so hard in the last year to be eligible for a promotion. That finance manager role was hers.

Kate just needed to prove it.

She would have stayed presenting if it wasn’t for Anthony Bridgerton and his saviour complex.

Anthony had forced her to go home after she insisted she was fine, even going as far as calling Mary, who she had down as her emergency contact at work, to take her home. Kate couldn’t escape Mary’s clutches after that. Mary would have dragged her out of that office herself if she had to.

Mary had loved Anthony since then, of course.

Kate just found him more irritating.

Kate stood in front of her closet, glancing between her usual pant suits, tops and skirts and a few dresses she never really had the nerve to wear. A few of them had been gifts that Edwina had gotten for free from shows that didn’t fit her and some had been impulse buys Kate had loved but hadn’t worn yet.

She always managed to convince herself out of wearing them. It was too tight or she was too bloated or her arms looked strange. Her self-consciousness won every time. Edwina wouldn’t think twice about wearing what she wanted. Kate wanted to be the girl who wore what she wanted. She always went with the safer option, a simple shirt, top or skirt.

That wasn’t going to be today.

She needed a lot of nerve today. She picked out a long sleeved black ribbed dress she had bought on a whim a few weeks ago, that was tight around her waist and had a sweetheart neckline with a pair of black heels.

Kate kissed Newton goodbye and left her flat before she could change her mind. She kept her eyes glued to her phone as she arrived at work, checking her endless emails and calendar for the day as she got the elevator up to her floor and walked to her office. When she glanced around, she could hear their whispers and see people snapping their heads away from her, previously staring at her.

Deep breaths, Kate.

Thank god she had already texted Sophie to cancel her meetings for the morning.

She smiled at Sophie as she walked past her desk, relief filling her chest to see a friend. “Morning, Soph.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

Kate stopped dead in her tracks, turning to glare at her assistant, who was cackling behind her computer screen. “That’s not funny.”

Sophie leaned back in her chair, the smirk still plastered on her face as she looked Kate up and down. “You look hot.”

“Thank you.” Kate fiddled with the material of her dress, smoothening it out and breathing deeply out of her nose. She didn’t need to hide behind her coat and feel self-conscious. She was bloody Kate Sheffield.

Fuck what anybody else or some gossip column had to say.

She was hot. She was qualified. She was important. She could do this.

“Dressing up for anyone special?”

Kate’s confidence dissolved into annoyance as she narrowed her eyes at Sophie, shaking her head. “Is there something you’d like to say, Sophie?”

“I don’t think there’s anything I could say that Lady Whistledown already hasn’t implied.” Sophie said, the smirk spreading further across her face.

Kate scowled. “You’re a pain in the arse.”

“You love it. Oh, Good morning Mr. Bridgerton!”

Kate gasped, turning around so quickly her arm whacked Sophie’s stapler right off her desk and onto the floor. When the doorway was empty, she turned to glare at Sophie. Shit. She needed to relax. She would inevitably see him today-he owned the bloody company. Kate would just avoid him, and the meeting he would definitely be at, until she didn’t have a choice.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Sophie said, biting her lip to minimize her grin as she looked at her computer screen. “I’ll shut up now.”

Kate, desperate for Sophie’s cackling to end and a swift change of topic, remembered what happened at the gala. “Benedict Bridgerton asked me about you at the gala.”

That wiped the smirk off her face. “What?”

“He asked about you at the charity gala I went to with Edwina,” Kate said, sitting on the edge of her desk. “He seems interested. He couldn’t stop gawking at you in Anthony’s office and you couldn’t stop blushing.”

“I was not blushing,” Sophie murmured, avoiding Kate’s eyes as she tidied away some paperwork on her desk. “It wouldn’t work, anyway.”

Kate frowned, not expecting that answer from her friend, who was certainly making googly eyes back at Benedict. “Why not?”

Sophie smiled at her sweetly, also wanting to change the topic. “I think there’s only room for one romance with a Bridgerton out of the two of us.”

“That’s not funny,” Kate said dryly, knowing there wasn’t a chance she was telling Sophie about what happened at the park if this was the level of teasing she was getting from the article alone. “Or accurate-”

“Hello, Ladies.”

There was only one presence so unsettling, it made the hairs on Kate’s arm stand up and identical grimaces and frowns form on Sophie and Kate’s faces.

It belonged to a man that had enough grease in his hair than an English breakfast, a pungent stink that clung to your clothes when you were in his presence for more than five minutes and a yellowish tint to a chilling smile.

Nigel Berbrooke was the type of man women avoided at all costs.

That was difficult when you were stuck in the office next to his.

He stared down their tops and at their legs, had to touch their waists and arms every time he greeted them or moved past them, made comments about how surprising it was that there were so many women in the workplace considering their biological clocks were running out and regularly ranked them by attractiveness. The only reason he was here was because of good old nepotism and his father’s place on the company’s board.

He was a sexist, dimwitted, misogynistic pig.

Out of all the people her office had to get stuck beside, it had to be Nigel Berbrooke.

It was the very reason Kate knew someone out there was out to get her.

Their floor was covered in desks but for those who had their own offices, as small as hers may be, it was still an office and it was attached to another one. You shared an assistant with your neighbour. There were a good few offices on their floor, the larger ones detached and separate from the rest.

Kate knew it wasn’t under Anthony’s authority to relegate offices but she liked to blame him for it anyway.

It had been two years since Kate had gotten her promotion to finance manager and she had been given her own office. That’s when she met Sophie, the first assistant she’d ever had-who unfortunately, Kate had to share with Nigel Berbrooke. He had been promoted at the same time.

Kate had her eyes on that senior manager promotion that had been announced a few weeks ago and when she got it, she would be taking Sophie with her, far away from the unsettling presence of Nigel Berbrooke. They were both in the running for the promotion, both having the same management experience except Kate’s clientele and numbers were higher and better than Nigel's. She deserved it. There wasn’t a chance he was beating Kate.

That didn’t mean much. His father was involved in those types of decisions and he had a lot of influence on the board. Kate didn’t have anyone on the board vouching for her and the one person who could, Anthony, her boss-despised her.

“Kate,” He greeted, his beady eyes alarmingly wide as he leered at her. She had never hated the sound of her name more. “Are you not joining us for the meeting?”

Kate shook her head, silently exchanging an apology with Sophie who was doomed to walk across the floor with Nigel to the meeting room to take notes. “I have a client call.”

“Such a shame,” His patronizing tone as he clicked his tongue. “I do try to have my calls around meetings but we all can’t be as efficient as I am.” The bark of laughter that followed afterwards made Kate and Sophie simultaneously jump. “I suppose being organized it’s a man’s natural intuition, eh?”

Kate wasn’t in the mood. Clients didn’t want to talk to Nigel because he was, well, Nigel. “I’d hardly call you a man, Nigel.”

Sophie’s muffled snort was hard to disguise behind her hand. She wasn’t exactly trying, either. Nigel spent more time at her desk than his. Kate insisted Sophie spend as much time in her office as possible working and Kate spent any spare time with Sophie, keeping him away.

His false smile fell momentarily, staring at her in disbelief. He chose to laugh it off, “Oh, no need to be so sensitive, Kate. Did I catch you at that time of the month?”

“We better go, Mr. Berbrooke. It’s time for the team meeting.” Sophie interrupted swiftly, standing up and directing him in the direction of the meeting room before Kate committed murder on the fifth floor. Kate made a mental note to go to the bakery around the corner and grab them doughnuts for lunch.

Kate spent her morning sorting through her mountain of emails, calling a few clients, checking in on a few budgets and reviewing Anthony’s hotel proposal again. She was making edits to it, extreme edits-trying to find some type of compromise and solution.

Anthony.

When did she start calling him Anthony?

Well, she had always called him Anthony. It was his name. It had never felt right, it had always left a sour taste in her mouth. Now, it felt..normal. Right.

It shouldn’t.

The buzzer from Sophie knocked her out of her scrambled thoughts. “Kate. Violet Bridgerton is on the phone. She wants to know your dietary requirements for Kent?”

Kate’s stomach dropped, internally panicking. Kent? It took her a few seconds to remember. That party Violet had mentioned. At their family house. In Kent. Bloody hell, there were too many Bridgertons to avoid before 11am. She pressed “Please tell her I’m sorry and I’m in a meeting. I’ll call her back as soon as I can but it’s unlikely I’ll be able to make Kent. Thanks Soph.”

Kate banged her head against the desk, groaning loudly. This time, a beep from her computer made her lift her head off her desk.

Her chat popped up.

Anthony Bridgerton: Why weren’t you at the meeting?

Her heart stopped then began beating rapidly, echoing in her ears. Kate sat up straighter, her fingers lingering over her keyboard as she thought of a reply. He had never messaged her, he had emailed-usually to complain or with a snotty message-but he had never chatted with her before.

Kate Sheffield:Good morning to you too, Mr. Bridgerton.

Anthony Bridgerton:Anthony.

Anthony Bridgerton: Good morning.

Kate Sheffield: Something came up, I had to make a few calls. Did you not get my message?

Anthony Bridgerton: I did.

Kate: Sophie ran through the minutes with me and everything seemed to be in order. Was there something you needed?

“Kate?” Sophie's voice rang through the intercom, snapping Kate out of her intense staring competition with her computer screen as she watched the three dots beside his name bounce up and down, waiting for his reply.

“Yeah Soph?”

“You’re wanted in HR.”

Kate felt her stomach drop. Not today. Please, not today. "Oh god. Is it-"

"Yup. Agatha Danbury."

Someone was truly out to get her. "Bloody hell."

Nothing good came from a meeting with Agatha Danbury. The famous head of Human Resources who knew everything about everyone and it usually wasn’t good.

Kate admired her but she was equally terrified of her. “Did she say why?”

“No but she asked if you could come down now. Well, asked is putting it lightly. More like demanded.”

Sophie saluted her as Kate stepped out of her office and made her way to the lift, stepping into it, clicking the button for the second floor.

“Hold it.” A voice shouted, Kate quickly holding her hand out to stop the doors from closing and gulped when she realized seconds later who it was, coming face to face with Anthony Bridgerton.

“Kate.”

Kate visibly gulped, quickly breaking their uncomfortable eye contact and pressing the close the doors button. “Mr. Bridgerton.”

They stood in silence for a few seconds, Kate focused on the floor numbers slowly falling to the correct floor. He looked good today. His black suit didn’t have a wrinkle in sight, neatly fitting him but it wasn’t too tight, it was just the perfect fit to show the outline of his muscular arms without straining the fabric.

Stop thinking about his arms, Kate.

“How are you?” His deep voice, still waking up from the slight croak in his voice, snapped her out of her thoughts.

This was so awkward. She could feel her palms beginning to sweat, the clamminess making her silver ring slip up and down her index finger. “I’m...good, thank you. How are you?”

“Good, thank you.” It was so polite, so robotic, so unlike them.

Kate chose not to respond, choosing awkward silence over whatever this conversation was. It was barely a conversation, more an exchange of plastic, uncomfortable words as the events of the weekend and his

Anthony, regrettably, chose to open his mouth.

“You look different.”

Kate snapped her head to look at him. “What?”

“It’s your hair,” He said, moving his head up and down, his expression unreadable as he inspected her straightened hair, different from her usual bushy curls. “I liked your hair before.”

Now they were back to normal. Kate felt the familiar rage fill her body, the tension making her neck sore and shoulders heavy. “I don’t remember asking.”

He let out a harsh breath, shaking his head slightly as a flash of regret washed across his face. “I didn’t mean-“

The doors opened and Kate practically jumped out of them, not hearing the end of his sentence as she made her way towards the head of Human Resources office, Miss Agatha Danbury.

Kate checked in with her secretary, who informed Agatha Kate was waiting for her. The anxiety brewed in her stomach, making her feel nauseous and she felt so uncomfortable. It felt like her dress was clinging to her and she couldn’t stop fiddling with her hair.

The last person she wanted to see appeared beside her, checking in with Miss Danbury’s secretary, who blushed as Anthony spoke. He looked apprehensive as he approached Kate, a guilty look on his face. “I have a meeting with Danbury.”

Kate frowned, the anxiety in her stomach warping into pure nausea as reality set in. “So do I.”

“Ah” Agatha Danbury said, holding her arms out as she smirked at the pair of them. “If it isn’t the couple of the hour. Please, come in.”

Kate shot a look of alarm at Anthony, who didn’t look phased in the slightest. His calmness only provoked Kate more. They stepped into her office, closing the door behind them as they took a seat in front of her desk.

“Miss Danbury.”

“Anthony, Kate,” Her smirk only widened as she spoke, twirling a pen in her hand on her desk. “I’m sure we’re on a first name basis at this point in our careers.”

“I hoped I’d see more of you two after the charity run incident last year,” Miss Danbury said, her eyes lighting up with amusement as she recalled the events of last year. “That was quite entertaining.”

They had spent the entire run trying to beat each other.

Kate crossed her arms. “Not because of me.”

Anthony scoffed, shaking his head. “You pushed me!”

“You deliberately cut me off-“

This time, he actually snorted. “I’m faster and you’re a sore loser.”

Kate gasped. “I only lost because you cheated-“

Miss Danbury swiftly interrupted their conversation, knowing if she didn’t they could go on arguing forever. “I’m sure you know why you’re here.”

Kate shook her head.

“I have to say, I’m not surprised. I always thought there was something more going on here. But rules are rules.”

They stared blankly at her. Miss Danbury frowned slightly, staring at the two of them with a slightly frustrated look. Her message wasn’t clicking. “One of the requirements of being in a relationship is disclosing it.”

Kate looked at her horrified, the ball finally dropping.

Anthony snickered under his breath.

“There is absolutely not-”

“Agatha,” Anthony said sweetly, in a tone so polite it made Kate’s skin crawl. He certainly didn’t reserve it for her. “Could I speak to Kate alone for a second? If you would be so kind.”

He didn’t fool Miss Danbury, who smirked before nodding her head slowly, making her way towards the door. ���Of course. I’ll check in with my assistant.”

Kate had no doubt she would be listening in through the intercom.

“What?” Kate hissed, glancing back at the door and back to glare at him.

Anthony, who was thinking exactly like Kate, covered the intercom with his hand as soon as Miss Danbury clicked the door shut. “This could be good for us.”

Kate stared blankly at him. “There is no us.”

“Obviously,” Anthony said dryly, letting out a deep sigh before turning back to her. “But no one else needs to know that.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“When am I not?”

How was she the only one with sense in this situation? “You’re my boss. This is highly inappropriate.”

“Nothing about our relationship is appropriate, Kate.”

He had a point but she wasn’t bloody well going to give him it. “There is no relationship!”

“To us, yes.” Anthony pressed, his frustration showing in his wrinkled forehead and pressed lips. “It looks like one to everyone else. We could make this work. To our advantage.”

“We are in human resources,” Kate said, refusing to listen to anything he was saying. He had officially lost it. There was no possible advantage to a pretend relationship, or whatever he was suggesting, with him. “I could report you.”

“You could,” Anthony said, his voice dangerously low as he spoke. It sent chills down Kate’s spine and they weren’t the bad kind. “But you won’t, will you?”

She hated how right he was. Of course she wouldn't. Kate finally took the bait. “What is in this for you?”

“My publicist, mother and I don’t see eye to eye on how my reputation has been perceived, lately. I need to do some reparations for my reputation. I also need someone to distract my mother from trying to set me up with every bloody woman she meets.” He looked Kate up and down, nodding his head as if he had made some decision. “You’re a good fit.”

“Well,” Kate said, scoffing slightly in disbelief. “That’s a backhanded compliment if I’ve ever heard one. Why would I ever want people to think I’m dating you?”

That caught his full attention, sitting up straighter and frowning. “Why wouldn’t you want to date me?” He actually looked offended.

Good.

Kate glanced at the white clock on the wall and back at him. “How long do we have? This might take a while.”

He wasn’t the slightest bit amused as he glared at her, shaking his head. “It would just be for a while. An easy façade. A few appearances. Mainly during my family’s party in Kent. There must be something that you want.”

There was.

No. She couldn’t possibly be entertaining something so insane. That was a dangerous game to play, not to mention an absolutely insane one-this wasn’t some romantic comedy that had a happy ending. This was Anthony Bridgerton. Her boss. People were already talking. Mary would be pleased, so would Edwina. For some reason, they both actually seemed to like him. Kate wouldn’t be seen to be alone, no matter how alone she felt. No. No. It was crazy. It was absolutely crazy to even debate it.

But.

But-

The opportunity was right there in front of her. She just had to grab it. What did she have to lose? “I want that senior manager promotion.”

She put her hand up before he could speak, and surprisingly, he let her finish. “Nigel Berbrooke is an incompetent idiot whose father is on the board and will get him that promotion. I’m smarter and more qualified. You know that. Everyone knows that. My numbers and clientele are higher. It’s the only opportunity open for the next five years and I deserve it.” Nigel Berbrooke could not be her boss. She’d rather quit.

Anthony stared at her, slightly suspiciously as her words sunk in. “I can’t guarantee that.”

She was already standing up. “Then we have nothing more to discuss.”

He relented quite quickly. “Fine! Fine. I’ll handle it.”

She was taking any “I also want Sophie exclusively as my assistant and a higher salary for her.”

“Any more requests?” It was definitely rhetorical but Kate didn’t really care at this point. It was so ludicrous, this fake facade she was signing up to-she might as well get the most out of it. People already thought they were dating, they already had their own opinions on who Kate was. She would let them. At least this way, she was getting something out of it, knowing she actually deserved it. As painful as the process of getting it may be.

“An office as far away from Nigel Berbrooke as possible.”

He extended his hand towards her, nodding hastily. No one could blame her on that request. “Do we have a deal?”

“We do.”

They shook hands and just like that, Kate had sealed her fate.

“You know,” Anthony said, clapping his hands slightly as if he had finished signing a business deal. That’s what it was to him, some twisted agreement that she had no idea how would play out. Could she really lie to her family? Her friends? “A lot of people would be happy to be seen dating London’s eligible bachelor.”

Kate rolled her eyes, before turning to smirk sweetly at him. It was easier to pretend she was amused and ignore the sickening feeling in her stomach. “I wouldn’t, though. I’d be dating you.”

“Do you save this wit exclusively for me?” He asked, giving her

This time, her smile was slightly genuine. Only slightly. “Always.”

He turned completely around in his chair, properly looking at her. Under his gaze, she felt uneasy. Exposed. “Come on, Kate. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Famous last words.

[theriverpersonshadow]

Lamia Drama/Deltarune Semi-Crack Fic

The not-awaited, not asked for Lamia Drama X Deltarune crackfic that absolutely no one wanted, but might now find they want!

I played Deltarune Chapter 2 and just decide to write some silliness for fun. This is extremely non-canon to everything involved. Spoilers (kinda but not really) for DeltaRune Chapter 2.

Warnings for swearing, an extremely brief moment of existential dread, and one sexual joke.

As always, the species of lamia I use come from @vex-bittys

If this is your cup of tea, maybe buy me a Kofi?

           Susie stared up at the sign in front of them. “Kris. This…. Is this a fucking pet shop???” Susie said. The sign said “Caring Coils” and had a picture of someone part skeleton, part snake.

           “No! It’s a spring shop!” Lancer said. What else could “Coils” mean?

           “U-Um… I… I don’t know where this building came from???” Ralsei said. As far as he was aware, they had seen neither snakes nor springs on their journey, but apparently this was in Castle Town now! Somehow!

           Kris walked in. It was surprisingly bright for something in the Dark World, eerily similar to what it’d be like in the light world, but given that the main inhabitants seemed to be the apparent offspring of Jockington and Sans, just… What was even happening here.

           “Are these, like, half skeleton, half snake?” Susie said, walking up and knocking on the glass holding the Mamba. A dozen or so snakes suddenly tackled the glass, hissing at her. “Okay, not gonna lie, that’s kinda cool. You think they bite?”

           Kris just stared at the sign on the glass enclosure saying “Please Ask Before Handling – We Bite – Highly Venomous” until Susie got the hint.

           Regardless, Susie hummed, seriously contemplating sticking her entire hand in there anyways. “Hey. Hey Noelle, you dare me?”

           “SUSIE NO!”

           “C’mon, does venom even work on monsters?”

           “Hah! Clearly you know nothing. Monsters do not have blood and nerves to shut down the same way humans do,” Berdly said, strolling over to the Mamba enclosure. “They don’t even look that tough. Look! They’re worm- AAAAAAAAAAAA;LKJSDFLK;JDFA!” He had stuck his hand in there and immediately gotten himself bitten by like 13 Mamba. He flapped his wings, running around the room and sending bitty Mamba flying absolutely everywhere. Tiny battle cries filled the room as they chased after Berdly.

           “Um… Kris? Should we help him?” Ralsei said, watching the chaos.

           Kris answered No, deciding to instead head into the back. Unlike the skeletal-snakes who were snake sized in the front, this area seemed inhabited by skeleton-sized skele-snakes. Kind of. Most were shorter than Kris, except one Cobra who zipped directly by them with a weaponized mop in hand. Kris peaked back – looks like the cobra dude was mopping up the little skelesnakes. Cool, that’s been settled.

           They got a few odd looks as they browsed the area. It had snake things, and child things. Presumably for snake children, which most of these seemed to be. If not for the supplies and price tags, it’d be easy to mistake this place for an orphanage – which Kris could understand, who would want a Sans X Jockington baby?

           Oh hey, that one might be an adult. A particularly grumpy looking  skele-snake looked them up and down, them immediately flipped them off, “Oh great, I thought I was done with human shit. Or whatever the fuck you are.”

           Kris flipped him off back. What meaningful dialogue.

             Meanwhile, Ralsei was trying to figure out what he should do. In the few seconds Kris had left, Suzy had broken another enclosure completely and even more snakes were running around, not at all helped by Lancer and Rouxls mistaking the new lightners(?) for worms and trying to eat them. Berdly had been swiftly knocked out by the tiny swarm.

           Thankfully, something answered Ralsei’s prayers. He didn’t expect his newly found angel to be a 12-foot-something long version of the things causing chaos, but he literally started mopping up the little ones and depositing them into boxes. As soon as that was done, he gave them all an exhausted, withering stare, “Why. Just… why.”

           “Worms are tasty!” chirped Lancer.

           “These are not worms, we’re lamia,” the new person said. He sighed, straightening himself, “Where are my manners. I’m Nikolai. Apparently the rest of the staff disappeared, somehow, and I have no idea where we are, so forgive me if I’m a bit… in need of several of wines.” His “staff” uniform had been replaced by gold and white robes… and a small golden nametag declaring him “staff”.

           Rouxls pushed himself to the front. “I sympathizeth with thee mostly fullily, thine fellow worker of high class and generallyeth most terrifying stature.”

           “… I think I’m having a stroke,” Nikolai said.

           “Hey Yooooo. I Heard Someone Was Wanting Wine (alcoholic)? I Have Some Battery Acid Right Here!” the Queen said, holding her glass cup of battery acid. It exploded in her hand. “Oops Lol (amused)”

           “… I… I give up,” Nikolai said, laying his head on a table. Several of the bitties were chirping and giving praises, trying to tell him not to give up, but the Mamba were also trying to knock the box they’d been placed in off the shelf by all ramming the side of it at once. The chaos refused to be contained any longer.

           Ralsei looked at Nikolai sympathetically, going over and patting his back, “H-Hey, it’s okay! I’m sure between the two of us and Kris we can keep… order… Oh dear.” Everyone had scattered. It seemed that only The Queen, the unconscious Berdly, and Noelle remained in the room with them.

             The Queen looked into the bitty Papython tank. “Hey Is That You Trousle?”

           Trousle looked up at this new lady with the cool glasses, nodding.

           “Sorry You Came Eleventh In The Dragon Cards The Deckening Mini-Tournament Game But Dang Getting That Much Out Of Like A Billion People (Exaggeration) Is Dang (Damn) Impressive!” The Queen said.

           Trousle’s eyes widened, how did she know that?

           “Oh Yeah And Here Is This (based on search history: Sexy Dom Bitties).” It was a small domino with Mettaton legs sticking out from it.

           Trousle was silently screaming, but being him had the perk that he didn’t have to hold in his screams! They were silent by default. So he was just screaming and completely blush-colored in the face.

           “Oh And Emo Thrash Metal (based on search history: Emo Thrash Metal).” She deposited a small broken chunk of the Thrash Machine that had thrashed her giant robot’s ass which was inexplicably wearing eyeliner and had “it’s not a phase mom!” written on it.

           Meanwhile, Susie had joined Kris in flipping off Hux, and then Liam came.

           “Tch. I don’t know what you troglodytes think you’re doing, but we’re closed. Get out,” Liam hissed, putting himself between Hux and the intruders. They were not closed, but could you really be “open” when you had accidentally planeshifted to another dimension without the majority of your staff?

           “Yeah! Fuck off!” Hux hissed, throwing a double birdy.

           “YOU GUYS WANNA GO?!” Susie yelled, foaming at the mouth and drawing her axe. Liam looked injured, but if he was going to go around picking fights, she wasn’t going to stop him!

           “Oh please,” Liam said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, smirking far too smugly. “I would obviously win.”

           “OH IT IS ON!” Susie said, surging forwards. She and Liam both turned out to be too adept at dodging for this to go much of anywhere, and Hux and Kris just spent the fight insulting each other even after Susie and Liam got so mutually carried away they left the battlefield.

           Lancer had found some new kind of paradise: a plastic hammock full of dubious, blueberry snot flavored salsa! He paid no mind to the other person using the weird spa, just jumping in and plopping into the vat of goo.

           Oozy blinked owlishly at Lancer, then started laughing, “Kid? Kid, what are you doing?”

           “I’m claiming this spa as mine, you minty fresh bundle of mouthwash.”

           “Um… This… is my bed?”

           “No it’s not! This is a hammock, not a bed!”

           “… can’t argue with that logic,” Oozy said, shrugging. He wrapped lightly around Lancer, purring. That said, he couldn’t quite resist the urge to tease, “Wow, easiest snack ever.”

           “Thanks!” Lancer chirped.

           Rouxls Kaard then skidded down the hallways without ever adjusting his Trademark Pose, “HALT WORMTH! THEE SHALSTH NOTS EAT MINE PRINCETH.”

           Oozy, being a little shit, looked Rouxls in the eye as he lightly pressed his teeth to the back of Lancer’s head and audibly said, “Nom.”

           “NOOOOO! UNHAND HIM, THINE UNCLEANETHEST OF HEATHENS!”

           “Naaaah.”

           “I’m slimy!” Lancer chirped.

           Meeeeeeanwhile, Keith was laughing maniacally in a mix of sheer disbelief and genuine amusement as he dodged kicks from a living checkers piece, a small army of Pawns at his side. Too bad they weren’t from the same game.

             Some of the Queen’s butlers helped Nikolai and Noelle clean up the storefront from the burst of chaos (and Berdly). They still weren’t sure how they got there, but y’know what, even Nikolai cannot contain this, so he lets the kids who are old enough play around the area with some supervision.

           The Mamba immediately flock to the Dojo, Liam leading the charge, to prove their superiority over all. Berdly gets his ass beat there again. There are Papython in the bakery and Kings in the café, and, well, just lamia generally everywhere.

           A lot of the younger ones flock to Seam. Every child’s dream come true: a giant plush toy that can actually talk to you and he’s kind of just a big fluffy grandpa!!!

             Eventually just Kris and Hux are left inside, locked in a battle of wills and insults.

           “Like you’d even know what it’s like to not have fucking control of shit! To always be told what to do and what to be, and if you can’t, no one gives a fuck about you!”

           Kris: Act:

           Understand.

           They understand, they understand far too well.

           …

           Kris: Act:

           Kidnap.

           The snake boy is going home with them now. He screams, but he does not get a say in this. Bye.

[bramblepeltao3]

Woooaaaahhhhh Part 4!

After a very long hot shower (And the water here smelled different. Not bad just...different) Del was slightly less full of jumpy angry anxiety. She did as she was asked. She kept quiet about what happened, went with Aranea’s story, and kept herself from screaming at every person who she saw between the crownsguard station and the shower.

At least she had her own room. Right next to Prompto of course, in case he needed her. It was large, and had a lovely bed with soft blankets, and everything smelled like lavender. So at least she had this, she thought, as she wrapped herself in the very plush fancy towel and opened the door, walking into her room through a cloud of steam.

“P...Princess…”

“LOQI!” Del screamed, noticing the man standing right in the middle of her room. “What the FUCK are y- I AM NOT A PRINCESS!”

“This came for you, I only wanted to make sure it was delivered dire-”

“I’m naked, get out!”

“And I wanted to apologize for the trouble you experienced this afternoon. If I were there-”

“We’d be dead if you were there, now please, GET OUT!” She took the package from him and retreated back into the bathroom.

She waited for the sound of the door to open and close again, but it never came. She was going to amass a body count before this trip was over, she could just feel it.

“Lady Delphia. I wanted you to know...His Highness showed me the photos he took on the train. And, well, with both of you so close together...I don’t know why no one else seems to notice.”

And then there was that blessed door clicking sound.

Just breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale! It’s easy. Just. Breathe.

She didn’t know which was worse: that Tumult was observant enough to see the obvious or that he was taking the completely wrong point from it.

She walked back into the sleeping area and, satisfied no perverted shitheads were hanging out, opened the package. It was exactly what she expected: the dress promised by Marigold. There was a small handwritten note on top of the blue, floral print dress.

‘You seem like the practical type. This one has pockets!’ She pulled out the dress which had a bit more flair to it than she would’ve liked. But the blue was pretty, and the floral print was subtle, and fuck if it didn’t indeed have pockets.

Del carefully got dressed, but found herself unable to really get that zipper up, and resigned herself to asking someone for their assistance. This was a palace. There were people here to do that. That was fine, right? Like, it was their job to pull the zippers up on idiot doctor’s dresses for them.

“Knock knock!” She heard a voice call from the door accompanied by an actual door knock.

“What is it, Aranea?” Del asked as the woman helped herself into the room anyway.

It appeared she also received her new dress. A very lovely, very glittery black gown that hugged all of her curves. Paired with matching opera length gloves, her hair tied back in a very elegant bun, and incredible chandelier earrings, Aranea looked like she belonged in this world. She looked beautiful.

She whistled. “Now that is more your style, Doc. Here, turn around.”

Del pulled her hair over her shoulder while Aranea zipped and clasped the dress. “A-line definitely works for you, especially with this sweetheart neckline. You look like an adorable college co-ed looking for the perfect Jimmy or Henry to dance three feet apart from and have you home by eight.”

“I really don't get you.” Del sighed. “Like, was that a compliment? Was it an insult? What-” She turned around, arms dropping heavily at her side. “Can you just say you think I look stupid?”

Aranea blinked, placing her hands on her hips. “Why would I say that? I think you look cute.”

Del immediately shot her eyes to the floor, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Hey. We went through some rough shit back there. And I know the last thing a grumpy introvert like you wants to do is get back out there and put herself on display. But I need every pair of eyes I can get tonight.” Aranea said before taking a lock of Del’s hair in her hand. “You weren’t seriously planning to go with wet hair, were you?”

“I-” Del grabbed her hair, hands clamping it all against her neck. “It’ll air dry. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen how your hair looks normally. Come on, Lemon Tart, let’s have a few minutes of girl time.” Aranea took her by the hand and led her out of her room, down the hall, and into her own. Del let her, reluctantly.

And that’s how she found herself sitting in the other woman’s bathroom, letting her meaneuver her hair into a braid and put some weird smelling lotion on her face.

“Alright, what color do you usually wear?” She asked, opening a small bag packed full of cosmetics.

“I...I don’t kno-...I don’t wear makeup and frankly I think it looks...really stupid. On me. It looks bad-”

“You’ve never had someone who knows what she’s doing before. Here.” She fished out a few small bottles and brushes and placed her ungloved hand gently under Del’s chin. “This will make those green eyes pop.”

Del closed her eyes and hoped this would be over quickly. She hated makeup. She hated jewelry. She hated putting things in her hair. She hated anything that caused the act of getting ready to take longer than absolutely necessary.

But there was something so...gentle about the way Aranea ran that brush over her eyelids. The absolute trust she had to put in her when she applied that liquid eyeliner, and the blush. She rubbed it in with her thumb and it felt...intimate. Weirdly, comfortably intimate.

“Alright, now the final touch. Too much red would flush your skin, so let’s do something a little more pink.”

She placed a small brush into a glass container and started to slowly, purposely paint Del’s lips. Finally, she placed everything back in the bag and grabbed a hand mirror. 

“Look at you, you’re going to have those Lucian boys flocking to your side.”

“I can’t think of a worse scenario.” Del sighed. But damn...she did look kinda hot. Aranea was right, she just needed someone who knew what the fuck they were doing.

“Let me put this into a better perspective. We both need to be attracting attention in there. The Marshal assured me they were taking the highest precautions at this thing, and I believe he believes that. But we need to have our own guards up. So while we’ve got all eyes on us, our eyes are on Shortcake.”

Del frowned. “So we’re...drawing the focus away from him?”

“Less people hanging around him and keeping attention on him, the easier it’ll be for me to spot if anyone is a little too interested in him. Make sense?” Aranea asked with a smirk.

Right. Draw the attention of people who otherwise wouldn’t care about Prompto save for social climbing or networking. Make it easier for the shield to keep tabs on who really wanted to be within his circle.

“Yeah. Alright I guess I can...be...this,” she gestured at herself, “for one night. For Prompto.”

“Knew you’d say that.” Aranea stood up straight, pulling Del to her feet as well. “I’ll be the sultry seductress dream girl, you play the girl next door fantasy, we’ll have plenty of tall dark and rich hanging around.” 

They made their way into the sleeping area, where Del caught a glimpse of herself in the full length mirror. Funny. She’d always hated the idea of herself looking like this. Painted up, dressed up, it felt too much like the life she was almost doomed to live a long time ago. But this...this felt kinda...nice?

“One more thing.” Aranea took her hand and slipped something onto her wrist. “Pretty, right? There’s a tracking device in it. Shortcake’s got one too. They let me keep track of you two wherever you are.”

Del frowned at it. “Ok, Prompto I get. But why me?”

“Those gunmen were after you. That was made very clear based on where they were aiming. That’s another reason I want you surrounded by hungry suitors all night. Less opportunity for someone to pull something. But don’t worry, between myself, the Marshal, and poor little love struck Loqi I think you’ll be safe.”

“Eugh.” Del shuddered. “Can we maybe not acknowledge that weirdness going on?”

Aranea let out a laugh as they crossed to leave the room. “Not exactly returning those affections, I guess?”

“I have known that dipshit for a very long time. His delusions of self grandeur are only surpassed by his creepy level of nationalism. I’m good, thanks.”

“Hm.” Aranea hummed as she began to open the door. “So what I’m hearing is I still have a shot?”

Del’s eyes went wide.

Aranea made a gun shape with her hand, finger barrel pointing at Del’s head, and made a mock motion of pulling the trigger. She smirked and walked out into the hallway.

Why. Don't. People. Just. Say. What. They. Mean?!

“Prompto! Time to head out, are you ready?” Aranea asked, standing in front of the door next to hers. She frowned when there was no response.

“Are you sure he didn’t already leave?” Del asked, a little hopefully.

“The tracker says he’s in there. Bet he’s having trouble getting all those buttons done right. Prompto! Doc and I are coming in.” She announced before opening the door.

Inside, there was no one.

“Shit.” Aranea whispered, walking to the nightstand where a matching bracelet to Del’s was sitting.

Del felt her throat begin to close up as she looked out towards the balcony door, wide open, and no one in sight.

---

Prompto was sure something was very, very wrong with him. Maybe he was having some kind of reaction to his medication or the water here had something weird in it. That had to be the explanation for why he agreed to just climb on to the back of the Prince of Lucis and fly.

Like, actually fly. The Prince of Lucis could fly, in a weird indirect way.

He’d just shown up on the balcony outside his room, seven stories up, like it wasn’t a big deal at all, sparkling with the remnants of magic.

“Wanted to say hi, you know, outside of the whole ceremony and everything.” He’d said. And Prompto, completely not used to being alone with people his own age, just kind of stumbled out to stand with him.

“How did you-”

“I warped.” He said with a smile, like it was obvious.

So they stood there, in the warm afternoon air, talking about magic and warping and -somehow- the conversation turned to his favorite topic.

“No way, you like Assassin’s Creed too?” Noctis asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah! It’s only like the best franchise in modern gaming!” Prompto couldn’t believe his luck. He’d never met anyone else who played video games. It was his favorite hobby, and not just because for a handful of years it was the only thing he could bring himself to do. “It would be so cool to be an assassin. Uh, not like, a really real one. Heh. Just like, getting to climb or jump or glide anywhere you want? So cool.” Prompto said wistfully. To sneak out of his room back home and see anything he wanted was an ongoing dream of his.

And this trip was the closest thing he had to fulfilling it so far.

“So why don’t you?” Noctis asked, leaning against the balcony railing.

“Well, for starters, I can’t exactly zip through the air like you can.” Prompto laughed. 

He straightened back up. “Do you want to?”

And that was how Prince Prompto, heir to the vast Empire of Niflheim, found himself losing his lunch in the bushes outside the Lucian Citadel.

“Shit, sorry Prompto. Guess I should’ve warned you it takes some getting used to.” Noctis said, stifling a laugh.

“No way! That was so much fun!” He smiled despite how green his face must have been. “Should probably just take the elevator on the way back, though.” As much as he wanted to do that again he wasn’t sure his stomach would approve. Or his doctor.

Noct pulled out his phone and made a distressed sound. “Well, we’re both about to be late. Ignis is going to kill me.” He held his hand out to Prompto to help him back up. “I’m sure if we stroll in together it’ll be no big deal.”

Prompto took it, and after making sure his evening attire did not betray their activity, agreed with Noct’s plan.

“So…” Prompto started as they began their walk through the courtyard. “Who’s Ignis?”

“My advisor. I’ve known him since I can remember. He means well, and I know he’s just looking out for me and my future but his nagging can get really annoying.” Noctis huffed, stretching his arms behind his head.

“Oh, I totally get that. My doctor is super overprotective. At first it was really nice having someone care that much, but sometimes it’s like I breathe a little wrong and she wants to run a whole diagnostic to make sure I’m not dying!”

Noctis laughed, and it sounded so nice to Prompto’s ears.

“What about your shield? She looks pretty tough. She come from a family line?” Noct asked.

“Nah. She’s been in the military since she was super young, and then one day she just told my father, ‘I’m Prompto’s shield.’ Like, no question! She just made that claim and that was it! I’m really glad though, she’s always been like a sister to me.”

“Sounds nice. Mine is a huge ass who can’t seem to keep a shirt on.”

Prompto snort laughed.

“His whole family has been my family’s shields going way back. So, not much of a choice for any of us. He’s cool, though.” Noct’s face fell into something more neutral as they approached the stairs leading back into the palace. “Man. This is going to be so boring. Wanna ditch and go play video games?”

He did, more than anything else ever in his life he wanted to hang out alone with Prince Noctis. But slightly more than that, he wanted to not be the cause of an issue that might lead to all out war between their dads.

“We should probably at least make an appearance.” Prompto said carefully.

“Yeah…” Noctis sighed. “Bet we can find a way to make it more interesting, at least.” He said with a wicked little gleam in his eyes.

Prompto was completely out of his element. And it felt so cool!

---

“What do you mean, Prince Noctis is missing?” Cor said, actually feeling a few more years being cut from his lifespan.

“As I said, he simply left his room without alerting or informing anyone of his intentions. This isn’t the first time he’s done this but it’s certainly the worst possible time that he could.” Ignis, poor long suffering Ignis, rubbed his eyes under his glasses.

“Has Gladiolus been informed?” Cor asked, hoping beyond hope that at least his very responsible student might have a handle on this.

“Indeed, and his response was, ‘I told you so’.” Ignis punctuated the statement with little quotation marks by his head. “I had hoped beyond all hope he would actually take these proceedings seriously.”

Amazing. After everything that already happened that day, now Noct decided whatever arcade cabinet or fishing pond he felt most like visiting was more important than ensuring a lifelong peace with their biggest enemy.

“He’s probably just asleep in a tree somewhere.” The Prince could seemingly sleep anywhere, at any time. It was a life skill that Cor envied. “Inform the Glaive we have a code Stray Cat. Level Calico for now, unless we have evidence it’s something more serious.” Calico stray cat: Noctis is missing but he’s probably just dicking around somewhere. Find him but don’t panic. Black stray cat: Noct is missing and assumed in danger. Orange stray cat: Noct is most definitely in danger.

Again. Regis’ idea.

“I will do so at once, Marshal.” Ignis gave a slight bow and ran off to deliver the message. He was a good kid, both him and Gladio. Wonderfully dedicated crownsguards and the exact sort of responsible needed to ensure Noctis made it to his reign alive. And still, still he managed to get himself into trouble.

“Gladio.” Cor said into his switched on ear piece. 

“I’ve got the crownsguard sweeping the perimeter. Glaive are searching outside the Citadel. We’ll catch that cat, Sir.”

“Nice choice of words. I’m going to check in with our guests.” No one else should have to deal with that headache. Cor made his way to the seventh floor, right where he left them. Prince Prompto’s door was ajar, with no one inside, but the balcony door was also wide open.

Not good.

“Gladio, bad news-”

“Good news Sir, the cat’s in the bag. And he brought a little yellow puppy with him.” 

Cor laughed, shaking his head with his hands on his hips.

Teenagers. Of course they’d sneak off to get into trouble together. At least it implied they were getting along, which really was the whole point of this thing. He could only be so mad about it all. He turned to head back to the ballroom, ready to take his post for the evening.

Until he was struck with the realization that Prompto’s attendants probably realized he had gone missing. And they didn’t have the benefit of knowing he was okay.

“...shit.”

---

“This place is a FUCKING maze!” Del screamed as the two made their way down yet another hallway. Everywhere they walked service staff seemed to flee from their presence. Of course they did. Everyone here hated their guts and everything about them so why would anyone try and help?

Fine! She had thought. We’ll just find Cor. Whatever. This is his problem now. Her ego meant nothing compared to Prompto’s safety. So off they went, ready to find the Marshal and make sure her brother was safe. There was only one problem.

Neither of them understood enough of the Lucian language.

They all spoke the same common language, sure, but each Kingdom still had their own stupid written language because neither wanted to go through the hassle of changing out hundreds of years’ worth of fixtures and Del hadn’t thought to stick that piece of academia into her mind because in what world would she have to know the difference between a bathroom and a library in the Lucian Ciatdel?

Well...apparently this one!

“You know what’s a universal language? Pictures. Just...put a little picture of a toilet on the sign. Then there’s no confusion! What’s in there? Oh! A bathroom! OBVIOUSLY!” Del was quickly losing her mind, and Aranea’s silence was just making it worse.

“Doc.” She finally said, grabbing her arm. She turned to Del, put a finger to her lips, and carefully walked them both through a door and into...the kitchen. After a quick scan of the perimeter she set her sights on a supply closet and somehow, maneuvered both of them into it, closing the door behind them.

“What-” Del tried to ask but Aranea put a hand over her mouth.

“Listen.” She whispered.

After a few very quiet minutes passed, Del was ready to tell the shield exactly what she thought about being shoved in a closet while Prompto was still missing, when they heard a door open., and several pairs of footsteps.

“I can’t hear shit in there, so what the fuck is with this?”

“You tell him what you told me.”

“I got strict orders, directly from the kid’s doctor. She said this needs to go in his meal. It’s medicine, you know their Prince is sickly and all. We’re doing it in here so as not to cause a scene. It is absolutely vital he gets it. Understood?”

Del’s eyes went wide. Aranea was narrowing hers in suspicion. Del shook her head. No, she hadn’t told anyone jack shit about medicine. And he certainly didn’t have any medication that needed to be dropped into his dinner.

This was poison. They were trying to poison Prompto.

“Alright. I’ll mark it special, make sure it gets to the right seat.”

After some shuffling and footsteps, the two carefully left the closet and quietly made their way out to the hallway.

“Listen, Doc-”

“I didn’t tell anyone shit about putting medicine in food.”

“I know. So either you’re being set up, or Insomnia is. Either way, the search for Shortcake just got a lot more urgent.”

A quiet ding grabbed their attention, and the two realized there was an elevator around the corner. Finally. They took off sprinting to catch it, barely managing to do so, and simply selecting the ground floor.

“How big of a scene do we need, here? Who are we going to tell?” Del asked. Aranea seemed to know exactly how to approach every scenario, and Del was about to mentally collapse so she was more than happy to let her take control.

“Tumult will see it as the Lucians attempting an assassination. If we call out the kitchen workers they’re going to set you up for the fall, and no one here has any reason to trust you wouldn’t.” Aranea said carefully.

“Cor knows, he’d vouch for me. He knows I’d never do anything to hurt Prompto.” Del said, trying to resist the urge to bite at her still nicely painted lip.

“Why?” Aranea snapped.

“Huh?” Del looked at her frustrated features.

“Why does the Marshal know that?” She asked.

Shit. SHIT. “Because...well like, I’m a doctor! Come on, I’m a doctor and a great one, I’d never hurt any of my patients!”

Aranea opened her mouth to respond but before she could make a sound, the elevator doors opened and there he was. Standing next to the Lucian Prince. 

“Oh thank the Gods.” Del sighed, abandoning any amount of professionalism and rushing over to hug the Prince. “Don’t scare us like that, dude, we thought something terrible happened!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean- Wow you guys look really pretty.” Prompto nervously said with a smile.

“I’m guessing you're the shield?” Aranea stated, looking up and down the teenager standing behind the princes.

“That would be me, yeah. And these two thought it’d be great fun to goof off and get every glaive and guard in the city looking for them.”

Prompto looked at the ground in embarrassment. Noctis seemed pleased. 

“Prom here wanted to have some fun. I thought I’d be a good host and show him some.”

Noctis laughed. Prompto’s face turned very red.

“So are we going to this borefest now, or what?” Prince Noctis asked his shield.

“I’ve got something I need to talk to you about.” Aranea nodded her head towards Gladiolus. He nodded back at her.

“That dress looks really good on you, Del!” Prompto said, trying to change the subject from his sudden irresponsible disappearance.

“Thanks,” Del smiled down at him as they began to follow the Lucians, “it has pockets.” She demonstrated by sticking her hands in them. She felt something in the left pocket. A piece of paper. She carefully retrieved it, no bigger than the palm of her hand, and quickly read the message scribbled on it.

‘Del-We need to talk. Meet me at the bar. C.L.’

C.L. Cor Leonis. We need to talk. Yes. Yes they did. And she already had a well practiced script of exactly what she planned to say to his stupid moron face.

[purplesurveys]

724

From Head to Toe

What kind of shampoo and conditioner do you use? My shampoo is Dove and my conditioner is a local brand. What's your favorite color and brand of eyeshadow? I don’t do eyeshadow. I don’t know the first thing about makeup so whenever someone puts eyeshadow on me I just tell them to go with whatever shade they think would suit me, and thankfully they’ve always made good judgment calls lol. Ever use tinted mascara? I don’t think so. Do you think liquid eyeliner is too much or just right? Man, there’s more to head to toe than just makeup :/ I love liquid eyeliner, it’s the only piece of makeup I was ever invested in and had several of at one point. Lipstick or lip gloss? Lip gloss. I find lipstick too bold and the few times I wore it didn’t feel right for me.

One cosmetic product you can't live without is: Couldn’t care less, honestly. What lotion would you want to have a lifetime supply of? Am not a lotion girl either. The only reason I constantly have lotion is because everyone gives them as gifts, so with me it’s like while I use lotion regularly, I don’t have a go-to brand because I have various kinds haha. Innie or outie? Am an innie. Where is your biggest birthmark? The one behind my left shoulder is the most noticeable one. Are your toenails painted? No, they aren’t. Are your feet ticklish? The back of my feet used to be but through the years other parts of my body have become more ticklish.

Yummy in the Tummy

What's your position on sushi? Love them. Love all seafood. With sushi, the more unfamiliar the fish the better – I always love trying out new kinds. I do think sashimi is a tad bit better though. What about mushrooms? I can’t call myself a mushroom connoisseur haha I know so little about them cause they aren’t really a part of our cuisine. Is truffle a kind of mushroom? I like that, but that’s about it for my mushroom appreciation. Spicy food? You’re not Asian if you can’t handle spicy food and we’ve all been raised to enjoy them. I know only a handful of people who don’t like spicy food, but they’re picky enough eaters as it is so they don’t really count. Johnny Depp is taking you out! What restaurant do you choose? Idk, I’ll let him take me wherever he wants to eat. He deserves that after the shitfest that was Amber Heard. Favorite drink to order at the bar? Like I said in a previous survey, I’ll flock to the Long Island Iced Tea if they have it on the menu. I forgot my back-up whether it’s Screw Driver or Cosmopolitan, but it’s def one of those. For cheaper, more relaxed bars, I’d get a Zombie. Favorite wine? Hate wine. Favorite beer? I hate beer for the most part but we had had to cross paths in the past because some bars I’ve been to only served beer, blech. That said, I found myself enjoying Red Horse the most, followed by Pale Pilsen.

Favorite drink to cool off with? Just good old ice-cold water. Favorite drink to sip by the fire? I don’t really do that. Favorite midnight snack? Mi Goreng instant noodles. What's a food both you and your animal companion enjoy? Burgers. Filipino dogs or askals are accustomed to eating human food with no negative consequences because it’s how they’ve always gotten by, living on the streets; and since my dog is part askal he also loves his human food and started shunning dog food at a super early age.

Favorite snack when you're watching rented movies? I don’t rent movies but uhhhh I like having Potato Corner with me when I’m watching in the cinema, but I don’t typically eat anything if I’m only watching from home. What do you cook well? Nothing. Favorite food at a BBQ? Thanks, Tumblr; today I learned BBQ can refer to an event. Haha seriously though, I just learned that now because we don’t do that here.   Favorite soda when you were a kid? Always hated soda. Dessert you're craving right now? Red velvet cookie sandwiches sound so fucking good right now. Favorite fruit to put in a smoothie? It’s a big nope for me on smoothies, sir.

Good Times

Who do you know that gives the best hugs? Laurice. I don’t even have to think about this. She hugs everyone that enters Skywalk so she’s pretty much a master at the craft. Who took you on your most romantic date? I’ve only had dates with Gabie. Who do you know that can give a good back rub? I dunno. I’m ticklish, so I don’t like the idea of being massaged anywhere. I feel like I’d just flinch the second I feel someone’s hand on me. What's a song you and all your friends sing along with? Does it have to be sing? Super Bass is universally memorized as far as I know hahahaha. But if we’re going with sing, Edge of Glory is very well-loved too. When it's just you and the girls/guys, what movie do you put in? My friends and I don’t really do movie days/nights because we’re constantly busy with academics. The one time we watched a film, though, it was The Devil Wears Prada. Best party you ever threw? I’ve never thrown a party for myself. My best big party remains to be my 7th; my parents really pulled out all the stops for that and it’s still memorable for me until today. 7th birthdays are a bit of a big deal in Philippine tradition (I never really knew why lol) so my party was organized in a way an 18th birthday would be, but some parts were obviously tweaked to be fitting for a 7 year old – it was held at a ballroom in Makati Shang, my mom used plush flowers for my 7 roses, all the kids that were invited had to be in gowns, etc.

Who was with you on the coolest road trip ever? I haven’t had a cool road trip yet. The few road trips I’ve had with friends I was the sole driver, and I was always left feeling completely pooped at the end of the day -__- Who was with you on the coolest camping trip ever? I’ve never camped before. Who would you take with you on a luxury cruise? My girlfriend, but you knew that already. I suppose going on a cruise with my college friend group would be chaotic fun too haha. Who was with you the last time you got into trouble? I got in trouble in a PE class, so I was with my classmates. Who's got your back in a fight? The top three people I can think of are Gabie, Angela, and Andrew. Who makes you feel gorgeous on a bad day? Also my girlfriend. Who makes you laugh until you cough blood? That’s...graphic lmao, but I’d go with either Aya or Jum. Who would you take with you as a date to your sister's wedding? Again, Gabie. Name the first five friends that come to mind. ^ Her, Kate, Laurice, Andrew, Angela.

Hobbies and Interests

What keeps your mind and hands busy when you're not at work? If I don’t have to be doing any work you can usually find me lounging with my phone or laptop. What bars or clubs would we expect to find you at? Nothing you know. I typically go to the bars along the street where my university is since they’re close enough, it’s a lively and popular hub for college kids, and the drinks are cheap. I’ll sometimes go to BGC for drinks but that is extremely random; I probably go there twice or thrice a year. What magazines do you or would you subscribe to? Haven’t thought about magazines in a looong time. If you started a book club, what genre would you be covering? Anything nonfiction I suppose. The only time I’ll cover fiction is if a book is historical fiction. If you could be president of a club or organization, what would it be? My own org’s. I had the opportunity to be president this year but I passed up the chance since I didn’t want my senior year to become too hectic, especially since I was running for honors and I had joined another organization. I went for a certain vice presidency position instead. What causes would we see you protesting on behalf of? Anything to do with women’s rights, anything anti-Duterte or anti-Marcos, anything to support the working class if they are being abused. Do you like to shop for clothes by yourself or with friends? I like having a second opinion. Yoga at home or at the gym? No yoga. Where would you want to work, if you could? WWE.

Odds & Ends

Did you wish on the last shooting star you saw? That hasn’t happened in a very long time. I would though, just to feel like a kid again. Are you a fabulous host? I haven’t held the responsibility of being a host yet hahaha I’m too scared to start. I’d rather hand the job to my friends who I know can do an exponentially better job than I would. Why won't jeans ever go out of style? Because they aren’t limiting and are incredibly versatile – mom jeans, ripped jeans, bell bottoms, skinny jeans, what have you – so it’s been easy to have them adjust to whatever style is trendy any time, any decade. Is the truth really out there? Ugh, get out philosophy questions it is 3:07 AM. Assuming you ever have kids, what will you name your daughter? Your son? Olivia for a girl. Still clueless about boy names. Has anyone ever crossed oceans of time to find you? No? Admit it, you loved Dirty Dancing. I’ve never even seen it.

The Name Game

Who's the first friend you call when you wanna go out? Laurice or Angela, depending on who is free or what I wanna do – if it’s to have drinks I call Angela, if it’s to get a lunch at Area 2, Laurice. Who's the first friend you call when you wanna hang in for the night? I don’t do that. If I have plans to hang in the evening I have to have every detail mapped out – who I’ll be with, what we’ll do, whose house we’ll be staying at – days in advance because my mom is strict and because I’m Asian lmaooooo Who do you call when you're freaking out? Gabie, always. Only she knows how to calm me down. If Gabie’s the one I’m having issues with, I go to Angela. Who do you call to try something new with you? Anyone who’s down to try the new thing, honestly. Who do you call when you need bail money? Myyyyyyy dad, probs. My mom would kill me. Who would kick someone's ass for you? My girlfriend. Who would lie to keep you out of trouble? ANGELA. Sometimes when I’m at home I’ll get a text from her saying, “If my mom calls you, tell her I’m with you studying” even if she’s somewhere either drinking or hanging at Hans’ condo. I’ve pulled the same shit with her too whenever I’m at Gabie’s place. Who would make you go to the gym, even if you're too tired? I don’t think anyone would be able to pull that off. If I’m too tired already, don’t force me to do anything. Who would come take care of you if you were sick? Realistically my dad. But I wish Gab can do it, too. Who would help you host a posh dinner party? Jofab probably. The guy can cook. If we were any closer, I’d recruit him to make some damn good steak and pick out the music to play. I’d also ask Laurice to come up with the decor, since she’s good at that stuff. Who would help you clean your house before you had houseguests? Out of all the people I know, only my mom could make an area completely spotless. Who would enjoy watching Disney movies with you? Gabie. But really, how are you? I’m doing okay, but I really must head to bed after this survey lol. Did you make sure to get in some "you" time today? I’ve had tons of that this whole month. I gotta say I’ve been needing it and it feels really good. How many loved ones did you get to talk to today? I think 11? – four in my immediate family, my dog, my lola, Tito Rocky, Gab, Angela, Andrew, Leigh. Gonna treat yourself to something tonight? Sleep. What would you like to dream about tonight? I’m not hoping for anything but my recent dreams HAVE been part odd and part hilarious so I’m kinda excited to see what my mind has in store for tonight. Did anyone hurt your feelings today? Nope. Do you have a furry companion to cuddle up and read a book with tonight? I have a furry companion but he hates staying on beds, so I’m ruling out cuddling.

Before we part...

What's your name? Robyn. What's your sign? Zodiac? Taurus. Ever had Chicken Guadalahara? No, I’ve never even heard of it. Always willing to try, though. Daquaris or Margaritas? Margaritas, but only because I don’t think I’ve tried the first one before. Ceasar's or Bloody Mary's? Neither. I’ve never tried Ceasar’s and Bloody Mary is just so fucking nasty to me. Mexican food or Italian food? Italian. I very rarely crave Mexican, but Gab and I will often have dates at Mama Lou’s, our go-to Italian restaurant. Ocean, lake, or river? Ocean.

Cabin in the woods or beachfront home? Beachfront, for sure. I don’t think I could ever get tired of the beach/sea/ocean. Karaoke or dancing? Neither if I’m sober, both if I’m drunk. All or nothing? All.

[filmsthirteen]

Finding Myself through Cameron Crowe Films

  *Minor Spoilers*

    There are a handful of directors, writers, artists, and singers who have influenced my life. Yet there is only a handful of them who consistently released art that contributed to the person I have moulded into, (despite only being 19 and thinking this is the final version of myself). But one filmmaker in particular, resonates as having created films that were pressed play constantly as a teenager. That filmmaker is the man, the myth, the legend, Cameron Crowe. If it were up to me, he’d be Sir Cameron Crowe. An artist who had managed to shape multiple generations and accurately reflect on generations that once existed. From the early eighties, Crowe has contributed to the films that teens flocked to the theatre to see when they were released, and many years later, those teens would show their kids those films. Thus, I was thankfully brought up by brilliant films such as Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Say Anything, Singles, and Almost Famous. All those films manage to capture adolescence and young adulthood, through numerous characters, eras, and most importantly, through the use of music. Now that I’m in my final year of being a teenager, and entering the next phase of my life, I thought it was time to thank Cameron Crowe for guiding me through these seemingly treacherous years. 

    I was raised on eighties films. I always had the blessing of having parents who were really into films, and so I was constantly shown film after film. Many of them were teen films of the eighties. So, of course, there were many late nights of watching Pretty in Pink, Heathers, and Risky Business. Though Crowe's films obviously ended up in the mix, the first time I remember sitting down to watch one of his films ended up being around thirteen. My Dad got me one of those three pack special DVDs from Walmart, with Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club. Both of them I was absolutely obsessed with and made me long to be a teenager. Despite John Hughes being the legend he is, the third film, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, was the one that stuck with me through all four years of high school. I watched the film on my own the night before my first day of high school. I was starting that year off fresh; all my friends were going to the public school, while my parents shipped me off to the Catholic school the next town over, where I’d have to wear khaki cardboard material like pants, and polyester shirts in either green, white or blue. I worried my entire summer about the first day of high school; walking down halls I didn’t know, sitting beside people I never had the pleasure of knowing since kindergarten. On Stacy's (Jennifer Jason Leigh) first day of high school, American Girl by Tom Petty plays. Immediately I grabbed my iPod touch, added it to my iTunes, and played it on repeat on my hour and a half long bus ride, and into the doors of the school. Minus doing it with an older dude, getting pregnant, and brushing up my blowjob skills with a carrot in front of the cafeteria, I wished I was like Stacy. Having a cool job in the mall, somehow being gorgeous all the time (even during exam season?) and having a really sweet guy like Mark take you on a date to a really fancy German restaurant, seemed like an experience I deserved. But Cameron wrote about things in this film so painfully realistic to the high school experience, even thirty years later. I knew girls who went out with weird guys way too old for them, having plans for the future destroyed, and of course, having a teacher who thinks that everyone is on dope (which they're totally right about). It doesn't exaggerate the experience of a teenager, making the film so close to the truth as a film can get. Perhaps its due to Crowe actually spending the year as an undercover student, and honestly, all teen films should've been fact-checked like this one. 

     Less than seven years later, Crowe came out with Say Anything. Though my Mom loves this movie, and used to watch it whenever it would come on TV, it was the 2010 film Easy A that actually got me to watch the movie. I made it a point to go back and watch all those films that Emma Stone’s character lists off when discussing if chivalry is dead. Thus I ended up watching Can’t Buy Me Love, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and of course, Say Anything. I wanted my life to be like an 80s movie directed by John Hughes, but I got it so much better, I got a life unintentionally directed by Cameron Crowe. And because of that, I fell in love with wanting to be that smart girl like Diane Court. I look back now on how much studying I did in high school, and how it paid off to where I am now. It’s important for filmmakers to add these characters, ones were they say that girls can be pretty and smart, not settling for the cliched pick and choose scenario. So I worked hard, writing endless essays, studying late at night for a math test, and juggled clubs and activities. But still, I wished to also have that and be wanted by someone. Like Lloyd Dobler, who wants Diane so much, its all he thinks about. But listen, for once I can say the character of Lloyd isn't some creepy dude, who has an obsession and is purely motivated by this girls essence. Again, there are way too many films with the lead guy being solely provoked by a woman's body. But when he gets her, he holds on, noting that her feelings are reciprocated. She could go off to Oxford, and he’d be right there. Perhaps love at this age is rare, but when you know, well you know. And that's a huge difference that my generation can see. Though many of us have grown up with divorced parents, constant cheating, and unreciprocated feelings, at such a young age, we shouldn't keep that from the actual emotions that we are meant to feel for another human. Maybe we are supposed to give it all, and as I watch this film, I’m not wondering what if Lloyd didn't go about the relationship as he did, I wonder how Lloyd and Diane are. Because like I said, he wants her so bad that he stands outside of her house after a fight, holding that boombox up high, blasting the best love song of all time, In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel. I can’t even tell you the amount of times I’ve had that song on an endless repeat, but I can promise that I most likely broke the record the summer of ‘18. I longed to be sought after like Diane (cause who honestly doesn't want to be so enormously desired by someone you love?). By the end of the August heat, I laid awake at night, waiting for that song to be played outside of my window (actually would've freaked me out but still, the thoughts nice). But that song ended up being played during the fall, plenty of times in the cold winter days, and in the early spring, all the while so content with listening to it at this very moment. Sometimes boys and girls, it's good to just say anything (add wink emoji here). 

     Despite still being totally obsessed with all things of 80s culture, it's time to bring up that phase that wasn't ever a phase, but the depths of my soul. The tenth grade brought about my “grunge phase.” I got my nose pierced, splurged on Doc Martens, stocked my closet with various coloured flannel shirts and band tees. I wanted people to know that I listened to Nirvana, Guns n Roses, and Pearl Jam, despite it being on my shirt that I’d wear under my uniform sweater. My eyeliner was thick black, and my tweets were usually lyrics from some band part of the Seattle Sound. My Dad was in his teens when the Seattle sound came about, and thus as a kid, I spent many car rides hearing Alice in Chains ‘Dirt’ album, Pearl Jam’s the ‘Ten’ album, and Nirvana’s ‘Unplugged’ album on the radio. For me, I was the real shit when it came to this era of my life. And that became the perfect opportunity for my dad to introduce me to Crowe’s ‘92 film Singles. A group of young adults who all live in (a now extremely famous) the same apartment complex, during the height of the Seattle sound. Surprise surprise, they reside in Seattle. Honestly, there could've been no better film for my dad to turn on. With cameos from my bae Eddie Vedder and the late Chris Cornell, the film brings so much to the group of young adults who chose to immerse themselves in real boy bands, compared to whatever the other ones who sang with earpieces paired with synchronized dances did. No offence. Dealing with the idea of relationships, whether we are to settle or have fun in our 20s, Singles is supposed to be about Gen Xer’s, yet, I can see how many millennials still have this issue. There are plenty of girls I know who have used their ex’s t-shirts to clean their toilets, and though we aren't making dating VHS’s, they are perfecting their tinder profiles, hoping that actual human connection exists on the other end. The biggest point in the film that got me, (despite being sixteen trying to imagine myself in four years time), was the whole fear of what if you commit and what if you don’t? There are many ways you can mess up potential, and still, it lies within not calling after a date, or in our case, texting after hanging out. Sometimes we just need people to say and do the right things without having to tell them what is the right thing to do or say. And if it all works out, we’ll end up like Steve and Linda who move out the single bedroom apartment, and into never having to be labelled again as a single. 

     Eight years came about the semi autobiographical story of Crowe himself, Almost Famous. The film with the best soundtrack of all time, due to it having a budget of 3.5 million, compared to most films with budgets of about 1.5 million. Honestly, that's the best use of money in all of human history. And thanks to Zooey Deschanel’s duffel bag, we get to hear Simon and Garfunkel, Led Zeppelin, The Beach Boys, and everyone's favourite, Elton John. You cannot tell me you did not get goosebumps hearing Tiny Dancer being sung in unison by Kate Hudson, Billy Crudup, Patrick Fugit, Jason Leigh, and well I could go on forever about the well-casted film. Before watching the film, I remember that Fool in the Rain was my favourite Zeppelin song. But after watching it for the first time, I had probably had listened to Led Zeppelin’s song Tangerine a hundred times. If a film has such tangible (see what I did there) scenes, and a song contains such a powerful presence, then that is mastering filmmaking in my opinion. Thus, this film was watched during all sorts of moments in my adolescence. The time I wanted to work as a journalist for Rolling Stone, when I was in need of a change, and when I was absolutely alone and only a Cameron Crowe film understood me. And each time I was damn near tempted to be a roadie for a somewhat known band, who hopefully was opening for Black Sabbath. Actually, it was very much this film that got me more obsessed with concerts than I was before. I’d buy tickets as soon as they’d go on sale, mostly to smaller bands, that way I’d have a chance of being up close, and even meeting the band. Like William, I’d wait by the stage doors for the band. Dragging my friends to the concert at least twelve hours before the show would start, just so I could meet bands like Peach Pit, Pale Waves, Colouring, and well other indie bands that I’m sure slim to no adults know. Believe me, I’d wait a week for Black Sabbath if I could. But beyond that, I think that every young person deserves the life, encapsulated in this film; of just going out there and being absolutely free. You know, before life kicks in. And that's really what this film, amongst nearly all of Crowe's films, demonstrate. Get out there kid, put on those headphones, blast some Lynyrd Skynyrd, and just live before you die. Being obsessed with listening to classic rock, I devoured the only season of Paul Feig’s Freaks and Geeks, and had Almost Famous’s soundtrack on repeat. I owned a long green army jacket, and also a faux sheepskin sherpa coat. I was both Lindsey Weir and Penny Lane. I was walking down the two hallways of my high school, and the one street of my small towns downtown, earbuds in, Fleetwood Mac blasting. And through the many characters of these films, they reminded me that I’m here for the art. For the music from the Bookends album, the score of a Tim Burton film, and the tracks of a Tarantino picture. Like Kathy and Paul who went off to see America, Lindsey who goes off to a Grateful Dead concert with her best friend, and Penny Lane who is off to her dream destination of Morocco, I myself am off to see and hear the world. 

      It's odd to look back on these films that meant so much to who I was and who I’ve become. I’m in my last year of being a teenager, and I’m almost done university’ yet I still feel so attached to these characters I feel that I someway embodied. But that's not because I based my life off these characters Crowe created, it's really because Crowe based these characters off of people that exist in life. In those years of watching any teen film out there, Crowes (and of course Hughes) inspired me to look around constantly, taking notes on the friends I had spent lunches on Thursdays, discussing films with, just in case I’d make a film reminiscent about them. In my seemingly ordinary life, Crowe told me to go out and grab those who write seemingly precognition notes in your yearbook. Most importantly, Crowe told me to just let the music guide me through life. And for that, I got my life to be directed by Cameron Crowe. 

INT. Credits being to roll, as ELTON JOHN’S TINY DANCER plays. 

FADE OUT 

[g-w-3-d-damn]

Tricky Treats and Torture Candy (Loki’s Naughty Candy Shop)  Part 8

(Click here for Part 1) (Click here for Part 2) (Click here for Part 3) (Click here for Part 4) (Click here for Part 5) (Click here for Part 6) (Click here for Part 7)

Loki combed his fingers through the silver hair at his temples and wrung the water from his dripping locks.  He took a few steps and collapsed nude on the clubhouse sofa.  A trio of lipstick-marked mannequins hurried inside, each waving an item of importance.  The first mannequin shimmied a new pair of stretchy, wide-hipped black leggings in front of Miss.  The second had a candy-striped drawstring apron for her.  The third held two items.  She egg-ecked excitedly as she waved the extra large t-shirt friendly bralette in front of miss. The first mannequin ran away, brought back a black belt.  The second ran away, brought back a soft cotton tee.  The third ran away and brought back an empty bodybag, to the horror of the other two.

The trio left Miss to dress herself, bounced excitedly around Loki's sleep-deprived naked body.

"What do you mean we're out of cherries?  I swear I brought enough to fill the entire order?  Argh, fine, I'll get us a refill," he said.

Loki and Miss descended the stairs with the flock of mannequins at their heels.  The mannequins pressed Loki toward the door.  He pushed back at the mannequins with a warning grunt and a wag of his fingers.

"Weigh yourself," Loki instructed Miss, "We can't open that door until we get your weight measured and recorded."

"But I'm dressed already," she protested.

"And you'll be wearing the same outfit most of the day, yes?  Record your weight.  Feel free to record that you were wearing clothes as well, but record your weight every two hours," he demanded.

She recorded her weight in the mirrored fitting room.  Loki peeked through the purple curtains, past the candy striped pillars of the shop, hopeful that Highness had not yet darkened the storefront with her shade.  Miss came from the fitting room.  Disappointment and apathy drenched her voice as she told Loki she'd weighed herself. Loki darted from the storefront with the empty body bag folded under his arm before she could tell him the scale's findings.  She sighed. The mannequins hugged her, brought her a Josta cola, and disappeared up the stairs.  The lights lit, the curtains rose, the store opened, and in walked Highness in bright cherry frills.

"You seem to have put on a few pounds since I last saw you," Highness intoned.

Miss shrugged.  Miss jerked her thumb towards the pallet of pink heart boxes.  Highness smiled, yet no crinkle formed at the corner of her eye.  Her cheeks did not rise.  Her iris did not twinkle.  Her white fake enamel teeth bared in insincerity.  She skewered her prize and left.  The door shut.  The bell remained as silent as Miss herself. Miss sighed and sipped her soda.

"I wonder what this would taste like with a few shots of Fireball," Miss said.

The gumball machine rattled, twisted out an Atomic Fireball for her.

"Um, thank you," she said.

She sucked on the red ball and sipped the glass Josta bottle in relative silence, in a vain attempt to process all the changes in her body. Two hours passed.  She felt heavier.  Her apron grew tighter.  She slipped off to weigh herself and discovered an extra 35 pounds from the previous hour.  She untied her apron, tied it again loosely.  She wondered if Loki had fallen asleep on his cherry run.  The bell above the door jingled in unfamiliar but urgent alarm.  Miss returned to her place behind the register, locked the filing cabinet, and set her keys in her front apron pocket with the pepperspray canister dangling out for quick access.  The door opened, and in walked the two thugs that accosted Miss in the dark grocery parking lot the night before.

"Oh fuck no," Miss said beneath her breath.  She looked up to the loft.  She saw the shadows of the mannequins stir to hostile life.

"Dude, they do look just alike, but that can't be her," the one in the red hat said.

"Must be her fat sister," the other said, "hey lady, do you have a skinny sister?"

She held the pepperspray canister firmly in her fist.

"I do not," Miss said.

"I thought you said this was a sex shop," said Red.

"It is a sex shop," said Other, "I've been here, they sell those dongs."

"Oh yeah?  Let's ask the fat lady.  Hey, fat lady, do you guys sell these?" Red asked.

Miss made a disgusted face as he plopped the dark cherry red U shaped double dong on the counter.

"No," Miss said, "We absolutely do not sell that product here, and you two need to leave."

"Aww, you a little squeamish?" Other said, "we're just trying to find out where this thing came from, and we'll leave you alone!"

"It's not ours.  Get lost."  Miss growled.

The U shape dong vibrated at a pitch that matched Miss' growl.  She peeked down at it and immediately back up to the eyes of the thugs. "And get that off my counter," she demanded.

"I don't have to listen to you," Other said.

"Hey, look at this!" Red said, "it's our dear president!  You guys makin' money off my president?"

"Well, it's a pinata, so..." she said.

"What's that funny Mexican word you just said?"

"I don't owe you an explanation," Miss said, "but, for your own good, get out of my store.  I won't tell you again."

"No I think you said that this is a pin- yacht- tee.  One of those things you beat, and candy comes out of it," Other said.

Red ripped open the presidential pinata, shook both halves, and threw them to the ground.  Miss sighed.  She raised her pepperspray, and the bell jingled.  The door flew open with a crash.  The idiots turned to see Loki.  The afterglow had faded from his pale face.  The sleepless dark spots beneath his eyes circled up to his faded eyeliner.  He strode toward them.  His sinister visage left no room to believe him capable of any tolerance for further nonsense.  The two thugs stared at the bodybag in his arms.  Thick red goo dripped from the bag and splattered against the carpet.  Loki bared his teeth in a malevolent, feral grin.

"Would you believe it's strawberry milkshake?" Loki hissed.

Red grabbed the other by the sleeve and pulled him away from Loki and out the door at a run.  The bell jingled happily as the door shut and bolted itself for the evening closing ceremony.  Miss put her pepperspray away.

Miss said, "Those were the guys from last night that Thor-"

"I know," Loki said, “Where is Thor and a shovel when you really need him?”

He laid the bodybag on the counter.  Miss' face twitched.

"I should have told you that they put a used dong on the counter before you sat that down," she said.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Loki said.

He started for the stairs so he could finally get some sleep.

"But, where did it go?" Miss asked, "can you check the security footage to see if they took it with them?"

"Not if I don't have to," Loki said.

A vibration from inside the bodybag caused Loki to clench his fists.

"Oh no," Miss said, "you know it's the one that Highness wanted in cherry red, right?"

Loki huffed.  He turned heel to toe and marched back to the cherries, intent on grabbing the U shaped dong and tossing it straight out the door.  He lifted the bodybag only to discover the buzz coming from inside the bag.  He unzipped the bag to discover a dark cherry red, plastic tail, waggling from the pile of cherries.  Loki and Miss exchanged glances.

"Uh, it didn't look like that before," said Miss.

Loki took hold of the flipping tail and pulled it.  A basset-hound-sized plastic dog in the same dark cherry-red plastic as the U shaped dong emerged from the cherry pit and woofed at Loki.

"Rocket? Rocket!" Loki squealed, "Oh what did that mean ol' witch do to you, huh boy?"

Loki hugged the buzzing plastic dog-mannequin and smooched it as it licked his face.  Miss held her hands out in shock and disgust.

"Ugh no no no don't do that you don't know where it's been! Ugh, gross!" Miss cried. "Miss, this is Rocket!  He's been missing for so long!  Oh poor thing, he's probably been trapped in that packaging for a long time.  No wonder we never could sell that dong.  Oh goodness!  And I kicked it!  Oh I'm so sorry, boy!" Loki stammered.

"Okay now seriously," Miss said, "we have to throw out these cherries.  Nobody can eat these."

"Oh relax, let Highness eat the butt-cherries, who the fuck cares," Loki said.

"Well... Okay, Highness can eat all the butt-cherries, but if you dip even one of those in the chocolate fountain or feed one to Thor I swear so help me..." Miss said.

"Did... Wait, pardon me for being sleepy, but you still call him Thor?  Even after you've slept with him?" Loki asked.

"Well, uh, um, yes?  Isn't that how we're supposed to talk to and about each other in here?" She said.

"Oh, yes, nobody uses their real names in here, but... Do you know his real name?" Loki inquired politely.

Miss stared at Loki without a response.  Loki laughed.

"Oh, you little slut, you don't, oh well," he said.

"Hey now, we just had sex in your hot tub and you don't know my real name," Miss said.

"Oh I do, it was on your application," Loki said.

Loki smiled.

"You don't know my real name, either," Loki said.

Miss took a deep breath.  She opened another Josta, settled into her stool.

"I'm not losing sleep over it," she said.

Loki rubbed his eyes.  Red cracks reached from each corner of each eye all the way to the iris in their sleep-deprived state.

"Rub it in why don't you," Loki complained.

"You started it," Miss said. "Fair enough.  C'mon boy, let's get you a bath!" Loki said.

"Yes, please for the love of fuck sterilize that mutt," Miss said, "and brush your teeth and gargle with bleach!"

"Oh whatever he got on him while he was out rutting about will come off when the cherry does," Loki said.

He took Rocket upstairs for a wash.  Miss heard the familiar sounds of dental care and of gargled mouthwash.  She was grateful that he took her suggestion, but also slightly concerned that Loki had potentially gargled actual bleach.  Miss sighed to herself, took the new, larger, candyapple red Tricky Treats polo to the fitting room.  She stripped out of her clothes and weighed herself, wrote down the number.  She looked at herself in the mirror and wept at the change.  She took a deep breath, told herself the candy shop was worth the changes, dressed herself, and stepped out to find Loki.  Rocket shook soap suds from his floppy plastic ears.  Rocket was now candyapple red, and Loki, though tired, looked very pleased with himself, until he saw the tears on Miss' face.

"What happened?" he asked, "I'm sorry, I know I should probably already know what's wrong, but I'm very sleepy."

"Oh, just, the guys, they scared me, and they called me fat," Miss said, "they didn't even recognize me as the same girl they were gonna violate.  Not that I wanted to be recognized, just..."

She wept.  Loki hugged her.  His minty breath smelled lovely, and not at all like misplaced red rocket thug cooties.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with them again," Loki said, "I can have them taken care of if that would make you feel safe."

"I don't feel like I deserve to feel safe," she said.

Loki drew his face away from her, but held his embrace.

"Why not?" he asked.

She shrugged.  She spoke between sobs.

"I've gained 70 pounds in two days, I lived in a homeless shelter, nobody cared, I'm getting so much sex and it's so confusing, I can't tell what I've done to deserve my good luck, or my bad luck, and nobody's ever truly safe, and I think they think I deserve to be vulnerable, and, I don't know why, but I think maybe they're right," she said.

Loki rolled his eyes, closed them, and sighed.

"That's a lot to unpack, but don't," he said, "whatever this fearful, despairing feeling is, it'll pass.  It can't live long in a place like this.  I'm going to track down the reason you're gaining weight and put a stop to it.  I'm going to make sure you stay safe and healthy.  I'm going to make sure you have everything you need, and I intend to make sure you have everything that a brave, ballsy woman like you deserves.  I'm going to deal with those hooligans so you do not have to worry about them ever again."

Loki's face dropped when his words did not cure Miss' broken sobs.  He felt suddenly off-balance, insecure, and wondered, in fear, why these promises were not enough to heal the situation.  He hugged her tightly.

"I'm going to need you to step inside the fitting room with me again, and weigh yourself," he said.

He pulled Miss to her feet with a gentle tug.  He led her toward the fitting room.  His long fingers snatched into the candy-condom bowl as they brushed past.  He opened the door to the fitting room and stepped inside with her.  She got on the scale and discovered she had not gained any further weight.  Loki rubbed her shoulders.  

"Will you take off your clothes?" Loki asked.  

She hesitated, then shrugged and undressed without ceremony.  She stood on the scale again and did not notice much change.  She stepped off and reached for her pile of clothing.  Loki took her hand.

"I meant, would you take off your clothes for me, not for your weight," he said.

She didn't look at him.  She could still see their reflection repeated to infinity no matter where she looked.

"I'm not going to pressure you," he said, "I want to see you feel good about yourself."

"Thanks, I guess," she said.

Loki closed his eyes in thought.

"What did I do that made you go from the winner of the best hot-tub sex ever award to this shy thing that won't look me in the eye?" he asked.

She snorted.

"It was mostly them," she said.

"Then I must kill them," he said.

"It was only mostly them," she said.

"Can you tell me what I did?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, "you called me a slut."

His jaw tensed.  His brain buzzed with lines for self-defense.  He shook them from his sleep-deprived mind.

"Yes, I did that," he admitted, "and I intend to flog myself for it later."

"Why bother?" she asked.

"Because it made you feel like... how do you feel?" he asked.

She shrugged again.  She knew it made her feel disappointed, but she did not want to articulate it.  He motioned to her shrugging action.

"Like that.  It made you feel like that and I didn't want you to feel like that.  Truly, I am impressed with you, I do not care who you sleep with or how fast you each came onto each other.  If anything this just makes you sexier to me," he said.

He held her chin and turned it to face herself in the mirror.

"But I need you to be sexy to you," Loki said, "not to me."

She shook her face out of his grasp.

"What for?" she asked.

"Selfish reasons like forgiving myself, making more money with you behind the register, and because I love to see you glow.  And you only glow when you're confident.  And you're only confident when you're sexy to yourself.  And whatever I've done to undermine your self-vision, is unforgivable.  Especially after all you've done for me," he said.

"So are you trying to tell me that you don't think I'm a slut?" Miss asked.

"I'm very in-eloquent when I haven't slept.  I probably meant to say minx," he crooned, "because you are.  You're very sexual, sensual, and attractive.  And sassy.  But that's not what I said, and what I said has injured you.  Perhaps I thought you could handle more sass, and I was wrong, and I'm sorry."

"Well, I did say you looked like a Hot Topic hooker," Miss said.

"Yes, you did, but you said it to me on a good day, and I did this bullshit today, while you were still processing trauma from those assholes that tore up my shop," he said.

"Yeah, sorry I haven't cleaned that up," she said.

"The mannequins can get it.  Honestly, seeing that pinata smashed up on the floor is not hurting my feelings any.  I think it rather adds to the decor," he said.

Miss smirked and giggled.  She covered her jiggling nipples with one arm and her mouth with the other.  Loki swooned suddenly.  He groaned, shook his head, and stood back up.

"I'm sorry," he said, "it's a little past time for my transition."

"Oh, uh, yeah, I understand," Miss said.

He guided her hands to the top button of his black dress shirt.  He pressed close to her.  He looked into her eyes. "I'm not done here, yet.  You won't see her for a while.  Until this is done, I'm not going anywhere," he said.

"What is it?  What needs done?" Miss stammered.

He pressed his face close to hers and offered his lips to her to kiss.

"Let's not even act like I wouldn't let that man fuck my brains out without even so much as a made-up name," Loki said.

"Do you want me to bring you to Thor?" Miss said.

Her voice wavered in her excitement.

"Sometime, yes," he whispered, "but right now I want you, to see you, how I see you, when I'm inside you."

"I'd rather look at you," she said.

"So do it," he said.

He brushed his fingertips over her knuckles to encourage her to unbutton his shirt and disrobe him.  She slipped one button at a time through the black buttonholes to reveal the pale skin beneath.  She took her time and enjoyed running her fingers over his flesh beneath the silky fabric.  She pushed the shirt off his shoulders and admired his skinny back in the mirror.  She caught a look at herself, overweight, her peachy skin visible on both sides of his skinny hips.  She hesitated with her fingers on his belt buckle.

"Really?" he said, "you're really not sure you deserve it?"

"I," she said, "I don't like how fat I look."

"Are you really going to deny yourself the pleasure of watching us fuck just to avoid your own self-scrutiny?" Loki asked.

"When you put it that way it does seem pretty stupid," she said.

"You deserve to feel good," he said, "look at me if that's what makes you feel good."

She undid the belt, let his tall dark pants slip down his long pale legs. She stared at his ass, almost as high and almost as tight as his younger counterparts' ass.  His cock stood out in infinitum in the mirror.  His hip jutted as he knelt to pick the condom from his pocket that now laid in the floor.  The infinity of reflections of his jutting hip disappeared over an arbitrary horizon.  His breath blasted against the mirror as he slipped the condom onto himself. His breaths left wisps of evaporating condensation that grew bigger with every muted, shuddering sigh.  No matter where Miss looked, she saw herself getting fucked by this man she met days ago. Since that day, she wanted him with all her swelling cunt, and now she had him.  She saw him manipulate her plump body, and she blushed at how sensual her body truly looked.  The heat from her skin left a sheen on the mirror as he nipped at her neck.

"You will always deserve an afterglow," he moaned in her ear.

She felt his cock churn within her.  She watched his ass swish in circles between her legs while he knocked swirls of pleasure into her.  Her outcries echoed in the small fitting room and poured back on her. Her voice grew as her pleasures grew, ad nauseum infinitum, in feedback loops of sound and mirrored sex.  And all the while he crooned at her that she deserves the world.  The mist grew on the mirrors as the pair panted and broke into a sweat.  The mist softened their visage, coalesced until all that was left of the infinite reflections was a blurred mess of diffused writhing flesh.  

"I love the way you look naked.  I'm so glad that you let me see you this way.  I tried, that first day, when you let me toy you through your pants, I tried to learn what your body wants.  Where your favorite spot is.  I remember you swirling your hips in the air when I toyed you, and I'm not surprise that you're screaming now every time I swirl my cock over that spot.  But I am surprise at one thing," he said.

"What," she panted.

"The inside of you has changed, just like the outside.  You're tighter, now.  The walls are closing in from the layer of fat inside.  You're tighter, harder, yet softer, all at the same time.  And it's surprising, and it feels amazing, and I don't think I'm going to last much longer," he whimpered.

He looked at her with striking but bloodshot eyes.  She nodded.  She wrapped her legs around him with a firm pressure and did all she could to squeeze her insides around him.

"Fuck, oh fuck," he called.

He roared and prayed to her.  He howled and groaned.  Every taboo noise he'd held back since he met her gushed from between his clenched, bared teeth.  He bounced on his heels and fucked into her in short quick thrusts.  She held her grasp on him as strong as she could until he swooned and fell to his ass with her in his lap.  She held him against her and rolled her hips, worked herself down him.  He lost his face in her breasts, certain he'd die this time.  

Leave a heart and a share to help others enjoy my writing! Too embarrassed to reblog? That’s okay!  I love you and support your decision to read my work incognito.  Some of us have to leave no trace and I support you for that. I have a ko-fi! Comment your favorite moment/favorite image.  Most favorited visuals get art later. **Bookmark me & re-read me later!** twitter | ko-fi | patreon | commissions | facebook | index | tumblr I now have a discord set up just for the candy shop work.  https://discord.gg/hE5S5En

[iwillphysicallyfiteyou]

Badass Boys - Chapter Fifteen

First, Previous, and Next.

Masterlist/Outfits

Series Description: Virgil has always been known as a bad boy, Logan very recently has been considered a bad boy. However, no one knows that these two bad boys are gay.

Chapter Description: Virgil and Logan go on their first date.

Pairings: Analogical (Side Royality)

CW: Mention of abuse, mention of money and hospitals, mentions of throwing up, kissing, and a bit smutty (nothing explicit).

The last couple of days have been painful for both Logan and Virgil. Even though it’s his eighteenth birthday Virgil still refused to go to a hospital because of the inevitable hospital bill.

“Look, it doesn’t hurt that much anymore, and most of the bruises are gone. Why don’t we go to the amusement park, you know, finally have our first date,” Virgil said through the phone.

“I’d like that. When should we go?”

“ASAP.”

Logan chuckled before saying,” alright, I’ll be at your house in twenty.”

They said their goodbyes before Virgil went to his closet. He changed into a plain black long-sleeved button-up shirt and black jeans. He attempted to tame his curls by putting some product in it, but they were still crazy and slightly frizzy. 

He put on his favorite black combat boots and stared at the container on top of his drawer. Inside the container, he had the necessities: a comb, lube, a pen, an expired condom (he made a mental note to throw that away later), chapstick, and of course, a lone black pencil eyeliner.

Logan seemed to like the smart and casual type of men, however, Virgil did realize that the only guy he knew that Logan liked was him so he probably had nothing to worry about.

Probably.

He took a deep breath and put the eyeliner on Pete Wentz style. He looked in the mirror and admired how he looked. Well, not exactly admired, more like making an attempt to point out every flaw that his face holds. His pasty white skin matched the aesthetic he was going for, so he guesses that wasn’t exactly a fault. He has a scar where his eyebrow piercing used to be, which he hates. His lips are chapped, so he quickly applied some chapstick. His brown eyes are boring and dull, unlike Logan’s beautiful and complex hazel eyes. He decided to back away from the mirror.

He picked up his phone to see that he got a good morning text from Roman, which meant he just woke up. Virgil quick sent Roman a text jokingly making fun of him for waking up at 11 instead of 7, then he went downstairs.

“Virgil, why are you so dressed up, and why are you back to that makeup? God, do you wanna look like a girl or something?”

“No Mom, I don’t want to look like a girl. I have a date- um yeah at the amusement park.” Virgil stopped himself before mentioning Logan since he knew how his mom felt about homosexuality, and he’d rather not show up to the date with a black eye thank you very much.

“With who?”

“Look, nothing’s official yet so I’m not saying names until we’re at least on the third date.”

“It’s a girl, right?”

“Mom.”

“I know, I know. You know, Reid thinks being gay is normal or whatever. I don’t understand it but if my two boys think it’s okay then I won’t break anyone’s nose over it. I’m still going to be disappointed though.”

“You’re always disappointed.” She frowned at that. “I have twenty minutes until my date gets here.”

“Clean. Read a book. Call Valerie, whatever you want.”

“Alright,” Virgil said before running back upstairs. He texted Patton about what his mom said.

‘Can you believe her? As if punching someone just because they’re gay would be okay even if Reid and I didn’t think it’s okay. And the disappointed part? Like bitch????’ Virgil texted before realizing that if Roman just woke up then most likely Patton’s driving to Roman’s house, so he won’t get a text back for a while.

He picked up the book Carry On by Rainbow Rowell and read that for the next twenty minutes.

Virgil’s phone beeped.

‘I’m here, and I don’t want to knock on the door because your mom’s glaring at me.’

Virgil shoved his phone and wallet into his pocket before sprinted to the front door and his mom grabbed his arm.

“Logan? Are you kidding me?” She asked.

“He’s just my ride there, calm down,” Virgil lied.

His mom sighed before saying, “alright, have fun.”

“I will.”

Virgil’s attempting to walk casual ( which he sure that he failed horribly at) to Logan’s car is awkward and weird, but he took a deep breath and thought, ‘that’s all part of the human, being embarrassed once in a while is normal. Wow, my therapist would be so impressed by that.’ 

However, Logan didn’t even notice. He’s too focused on how cute Virgil looks in all black and makeup.

Virgil sat in the car and greeted Logan.

“I really like your outfit and makeup,” Logan said.

Virgil tried to hide his growing blush by looking away while saying, “Thanks.”

Even though he wanted to hide his face from Logan, he couldn’t help but sneak looks at him. He’s wearing a pair of orangish-red jeans with a green flannel. He looks so hot. 

“I like your outfit,” Virgil complimented.

After a couple minutes of small talk, Virgil got a call.

“One second, Patton’s calling me,” Virgil said, “hello.”

“Sorry, I’m driving-,” Patton gasped, “a dog! Anyways, if you hear cars honking and stuff, that’s why. I am so upset over your mom, God, I wish she could just accept that people are different.”

“Yeah, she’s... difficult.”

“Yeah and the- wait, are you in a car too?”

“Yeah, Logan and I are going to the amusement park.” Logan smiled over at Virgil before looking back at the road.

Patton gasped before saying, “like a date.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my puppies, I ship it so much.”

“For some reason, I’m not surprised.”

Patton giggles before saying, “I can’t help that I love love. Okay well, I should probably let you go, have fun!” 

Virgil put his phone back in his pocket.

“Happy eighteenth.”

“Thanks, when are you turning eighteen?”

“June 27th.”

“That’s coming up. So you’re going to be seventeen when you graduate.”

“Yup. I’m the youngest in the class.”

“You’re practically a baby.”

“Oh hush, you’re such a grandfather.”

Logan shook his head with a gentle smile on his face. 

*

“We’re here.”

They got out of the car and looked at some of the rides. 

“Can we agree to not go on the roller coaster?” Logan asked.

“I’ve never felt more relieved.”

Logan bought some tickets since Logan refused to let Virgil pay. 

“Which ride should we go on first?”

“What about the Scrambler?” Virgil suggested.

“Perfect.”

“Maybe I should have picked a different day to wear all black,” Virgil said while sweating in the 85 degrees heat. “You’re probably really hot too.” 

“Yeah.” 

Virgil felt the urge to throw himself in the sun because of the failed small talk, however, he just stood in line next to Logan instead. 

Logan snaked his hand into Virgil’s and they stood there saying nothing for a couple of minutes.

“Tickets please!” A young teenage girl practically yelled with fake enthusiasm. 

Logan gave her four tickets, two per person, and they sat into a booth type thing.

“Are you excited?” Logan asked.

“Hell yeah, I’m so ready to throw up.”

“Alright! Please do not open the booth or stand up or undo the seatbelt. Have fun!” The overly enthusiastic teenager yelled before starting the ride.

The ride started out slow, but eventually, it got faster and faster, and Virgil’s thin body was pressed up against Logan’s side. Virgil places his hand in Logan’s and squeezed. Although Virgil is having fun, he’s also terrified. Logan grazed his thumb over Virgil’s in a slow and comforting pattern.

After the Scrambler they went on the Scat, then the Tilt-A-Whirl and Virgil had to sit down on a bench just to keep himself from throwing up. 

“Are you having fun?” Logan asked as he sat down next to Virgil.

“Yeah, thank you so much,” Virgil said as he laid his head on Logan’s shoulder. Logan put his arm around Virgil’s shoulders. “We should go to the lake.” The lake is known to be a go-to make out place for delinquent teenagers.

“Sounds like a plan.”

They were quiet the entire car ride, and once they reached the destination they sat in the car and watched the geese flocking around.

Virgil unbuckled his seat belt and looked over to Logan, who smiled back. Logan unbuckled his seat belt while keeping his eyes on Virgil. 

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Logan said.

“Thanks.” Virgil covered his blushing face with his hands. Logan gently took Logan’s hands away from his face.

“You’re cute when you blush.”

“Stop, you’re making me blush more.”

Virgil climbed into Logan’s lap and sat with his legs on either side of him, which was a little uncomfortable since they’re in a car. They’re so close that Logan can feel Virgil’s warm breath on his face.

Logan sets his hands on Virgil’s hips, and Virgil gently places his hands on the sides of Logan’s face. Virgil leans in but stops a centimeter from Logan’s face.

“Logan Woods, you are such a kind and caring person.”

Logan started to dig his fingers into Virgil’s hips.

“Fuck, Logan,” Virgil whimpered.

Logan closed the gap between them. The kiss is soft at first, and Virgil can tell that this is Logan’s first kiss. Even though Virgil is extremely submissive, he leads the kiss. He slightly grinds on Logan as he deepens the kiss. Logan releases a small moan and snaked his arms around Virgil. 

They are now chest-to-chest, breathing heavily as they take their lips off of each other.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Logan admitted.

“Couldn’t have been that long, we only met two weeks ago.”

“That was my first kiss.”

“I know.”

Virgil placed sloppily kissed on Logan’s neck, and it takes everything in Logan not to release a loud moan. Instead, he releases a quiet and breathy one. Virgil leaned back and grazed his thumb along Logan’s bottom lip. 

“How can one man be so damn beautiful?” Virgil asked, and Logan smiled.

Virgil put his hands on Logan’s shoulders and leaned in for another kiss. This kiss is passionate and heavy. Their hands roamed each other's bodies, which caused a lot of cute little noises to rupture from the two men.

The parted once again and sat there and breathed heavily before Logan said, “we should go to my house.”

Here are videos of the rides in action:

The Scrambler

The Scat

Tilt-A-Whirl

Taglist

@metaphoricalpluto @scorching-scotch @sockopath @confinesofpersonalknowledge @nienna14 @awkward-avocado-of-death @6tick6tock6

Next Chapter (Coming June 17th, 2018)

[headmycanon]

MC Who is Really Bad at Makeup

Jumin

You and Jumin had been married for a couple of months. He made sure to hire the best fashion designers and makeup artists to make you look unbelievable for your wedding. When you first started living at Jumin’s studio, he assumed that you couldn’t bring your makeup from Rika’s apartment, so you didn’t bother. Shortly after the RFA party, he realised that you never wore makeup, even when he offered to purchase you high quality products. He was confused- all girls wear makeup, don’t they? He began taking a closer look at his female colleagues, leading to some angry outbursts from Jaehee- apparently women didn’t like to be stared at. The fact that you didn’t wear makeup didn’t bother him, he just found it odd. Whenever you had outings, he would always just hire someone to do your hair and makeup and the media never really paid mind to your face. It wasn’t until you were meeting Jumin’s father at a fancy restaurant and your makeup artist had to cancel last minute that you had done your makeup by yourself. You never went through the acne stage of puberty, so you never bothered wearing it. The last time you did it yourself was as a little kid when playing with makeup at a sleepover party.  

Now, you were stuck, standing in front of the mirror, surrounded by beauty supplies. “What’s that?” You thought to yourself, picking up what looked like an eyeshadow pallet. “Highlighter? And this isn’t a brand name… I guess I’m not using this.” You skipped a lot of steps a woman of your age would typically go through to do her makeup as you simply didn’t understand the purpose. You gave up on the eyeliner because it was crooked no matter how many times you’ve done it and you almost poked your eye out on several occasions; you gave up on concealer because what the fuck is a concealer?

When you were finally done, you sighed. “Good enough.” You fixed your hair that the hairstylist had completed about an hour ago and smacked your lips together after one last coat of lipstick.

You walked out of the bathroom, into your bedroom to show your husband. Upon seeing your face, he turned pale as a ghost. “Um… it’s nice, kitten… what a unique choice of colours for your eyes. Are you sure this is practical?” You assumed that purple eyeshadow would be a good asset to your purple dress. Unfortunately, the purple from the eyeshadow kit Jumin gave you was very subtle when placed on the face so you needed to apply multiple layers. “I believe you have applied too much foundation, as well… you look like Elizabeth III.” Elizabeth meowed from between his dress shoes.

“Um…” you didn’t know what to say. You weren’t angry at him. Your husband was always incredibly blunt, which either made arguments extremely easy to be sorted out or even easier to begin.

“I will need to reschedule…” Jumin looked down at his phone and sent a text, probably to Jaehee to cancel. 

Jumin felt bad that you didn’t know how to apply makeup as he felt all girls should be able to. When he had handed you the makeup, he assumed you knew what you were doing and left it at that. He decided he would sign you up for basic makeup classes just in case one of his stylists cancelled again.  

Seven

Being married to Saeyoung meant a lot of commitments. While this required emotional support, for not only your husband but also his brother, there were tons of fun commitments. One of Saeyoung’s favourite things to do was cosplay…or should I say crossplay? Whether it was for the hell of it, or to mess with the RFA on the messenger, or for...um…intimate times, he was intent on dressing up. This never bothered you. You’d often go along with it and help him dress up, occasionally dressing up yourself. It was fine until the day Saeyoung broke his arm. You don’t know what he did and questioned if you even wanted to know. According to Saeran, he was paying too much attention to his phone and ended up jamming his arm hard with his car door… you figured there was more to the story. Since he was left without his dominant arm, Saeyoung relied on you and Saeran to complete a lot of his everyday tasks. You were fine doing all of these chores- you did most of the chores anyways, but trouble came when he asked you to do his makeup. Whenever you cosplayed, Saeyoung always offered to do the makeup. You didn’t bother telling him that you don’t know how to put it on properly, but never considered he would break his arm.

“Baaaaaabeeeeee” he whined, more to annoy you than anything else.

“Whaaaaat? You whined back.

“I’m gonna dress up as a magical girl! Can you do my makeup?”

“I guess...” you hesitated.

So there you were, standing in front of his never ending pile of makeup supplies- surprisingly even larger than his load of Honey Buddha Chips. You sifted through his supplies until you could find some items you recognized and went to work. Unlike his normal hyper self, Saeyoung was very calm when applying makeup, to be as precise as possible. You hoped he didn’t notice your shaking hand when you applied his eyeliner because he definitely would when you were finished. He noticed there was an issue when you spread way too much setting powder on his face, causing him to cough and sneeze. He quickly felt around beside him to find his glasses and picked up the mirror in a hurry. The smirk on his face was not satisfaction but of amusement. You couldn’t get him to stop laughing and you couldn’t reach his phone in time for him to post a bunch of selfies on the RFA chat, showing off your “makeup wonders”. 

Yoosung

You and Yoosung had been dating for a couple of years. He had finished his degree and was opening his veterinarian office very soon. The boy never noticed that you didn’t wear makeup. He didn’t notice a lot of things, but that’s because it’s difficult to get him to think. Due to the grand opening of his veterinarian office, you decided that you would dress up and put more effort into your appearance. You knew Yoosung would find you beautiful no matter how you looked, you just wanted to try a bit harder and maybe give him more of a reason to show you off to his friends. After all, he was the first of his friends to get a girlfriend.

You got up around the same time as Yoosung did that day, something Yoosung found a bit odd as it was your day off. Nonetheless, he made you a quick breakfast before heading out to the office. When you heard the door shut, you got all excited and had to find a way to control yourself before you started your makeup. It took a couple of hours, but you were ready to see your boyfriend.

Upon walking into the clinic, you received a few stares from the visitors to the party. You shrugged it off, assuming they were confused how Yoosung could land such a pretty girl. It was not until you reached him, that you realised something was off.

“Hey, MC!” Yoosung exclaimed, trying to hold a smile and bite back his laughter.

“Yoosung! I’m so proud of you!” You ran up and hugged your boyfriend.

“Thanks! A-and you look… um… different? Did you do something with your face?” he asked hesitantly.

“Um, yeah. Is there something wrong?”

“Oh, aha, no. You look lovely, but I think you have something on your cheek…you should check it out in the bathroom…” You realised all of the stares you had been receiving- it was the makeup! How did you mess up? Wasn’t it in a girl’s genes to make the perfect eyeliner wing? Your face turned bright red as you looked down in embarrassment. “Oh, um. Can everyone excuse me?”

Yoosung took you to the side and lifted up your face to look eye to eye. “Uh, you wore makeup!” he tried so hard to sound enthusiastic.

“Yeah… I guess it didn’t turn out how I wanted it to…” you giggled.

He giggled, too. “You know you don’t have to do that for me. You look beautiful just as your natural self!”

You nodded but looked down again. “I wanted to impress you and make you happy…”

“How can I not be happy? My girlfriend tried to put on makeup just for me! I bet all of my friends are jealous!”

“Should I take it off?” you asked, meekly.  

“Let’s go to the bathroom.”

The rest of the afternoon went by smoothly. Nobody brought up the makeup fiasco and Yoosung was extremely happy with how many potential clients turned up. You were given several compliments from Yoosung’s friends, including some hitting on you to Yoosung’s demise. You decided you would never attempt to wear makeup before making sure you didn’t look like a clown.

Zen

Dating Hyun had its ups and its downs. He was a semi-famous theatre actor and constantly had girls flocking to him, whether you were present or not. You knew Hyun was faithful and loved you dearly, but you couldn’t help but feel intimidated by some of his gorgeous fangirls. They were lovely, while you were plain. You often visited Hyun directly after your long day at work, so you never exactly looked your best. He seemed happy to see you regardless, but you felt that you should put in a little more effort in the case that he was having second thoughts about you. On a day when you were allowed to leave work earlier, you decided to stop by your shared apartment and “doll yourself up”. You were never one to put too much effort into your appearance. You would wear light makeup to make yourself look presentable in an office environment, but never felt the need to do anything extravagant. This time was going to be different. You pulled out the eyeshadow kit your sister had given you for Christmas years ago, unopened but ready to be used.

You breathed in, ready to open the doors to Hyun’s studio. You were a bit nervous about showing up earlier than expected, but figured the surprise would make him happy. However, this was not exactly the case…

Hyun screamed higher than you knew was possible, almost high enough to be a dog whistle, when you walked into the theatre. “O-oh! MC! That’s you! I thought you were- um…. Is it October already?”

That was the moment you realised you fucked up. “U-uh…I gotta go!” You quickly ran out to the streets, ready to walk home, ready to try and convince Hyun it was an allusion…but you were stopped.

“Jagiya! What’s the rush? Didn’t you want to see me?”

“Oh, um… I realised that something sudden came up-” You went to leave, but were stopped by Hyun’s tight arms.

“Jagiya, you don’t need to hide. I was just surprised. I feel so bad for reacting like that! Please forgive me! Turn around, please! I want to see you!”

You gave your panicking boyfriend a break and turned to face him, with a sigh. “Yeah, I look stupid, I know… I just figured I needed to look pretty to be-”

“You’re too perfect for me!” he interrupted you. “Don’t you ever think that you’re not pretty or smart or charismatic or anything! I don’t deserve such an angelic soul! You were the one who loved me from what was inside and not for my face! Jagiya-why are you crying?” He grabbed hold of your head and pressed it to his chest. Hyun ran his fingers through your hair until you calmed down.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “I wanted to be like the girls you are surrounded by, Lovely Zen…but I’m not like them at all.”

“You not being like them at all is why I’m with you and not them! Do you think they’re able to make me smile as much as you do?”

In the end, Hyun decided that he would teach you how to do makeup properly in the case that you wanted to try it again. This fiasco was a thing in the past that you both learned to laugh about. You knew that Zen loved you no matter what and you loved him.

[elasianstar]

The World on a Turtle’s Back Chapter 8

RAPHAEL’S POV

My brothers were setting up for a movie night when Elasia came into the living room. Instead of being in the pajamas we expected her to be wearing she was in her training leathers, she threw a shiny gold top over it and was wearing a studded leather jacket over that. Her hair was styled and she was wearing bold makeup.

“I'm going out with my brothers for the night on flock business, I want you guys to just stay put while I'm gone. I'll be back around 2AM, don't stay up for me.”

We waited until we heard the sounds of their motorcycles leave before stealing the keys to the van. In our defense they were right on a hook in the kitchen. Donnie had snuck a tracker on her bike the last time she had brought it to the lair and we followed at a safe distance into the depths of the city.

They were in what looked like an old warehouse district, ancient factories with busted windows and graffiti tags line either side of an abandoned railroad line. One of the buildings stood out from the rest, it was about 10 stories tall and painted with an alien landscape. It was just like one of the drawings in Elasia’s sketchbooks. In the foreground however was the beastly figure of a troll with clownish face paint, leaned over the form of a scantily clad woman with a knife held behind her back. The neon sign over the door called the place the dark carnival.

Donnie pulled the van into an alleyway nearby and we took to the rooftops sneaking into the building via the air conditioning vents. Club music echoed through the vents and as we followed the sound, lights and fog let us know we were on the right track.

“Aww no fair, Angelface went partying without us!”

“Like we could go with her blockhead, we'd be shot down as monsters before we got to the door.”

“I don't think so Raph, look through here.”

Donnie was peering through the vents with his goggles as he waved us down.

The whole place was one central room with walkways going around it all the way up. On every level mythicals and humans danced and drank and had a good time while on the stage below a man with hands that looked like bird feet and aviator shades scratched records with another man with the tail of a snake instead of legs. People with colored skin and bug wings danced and performed aerial acrobatics from long silks hanging from the ceiling while furred folk showed off on the lower dance floor. A large twisted tree grew in the center of the building and glowed strange colors in the blacklights.

“Sick, we should totally be down there!”

Leo stopped Mikey from opening the vents by pulling him back by the edge of his shell.

“Hold back, there's a reason Elasia wanted us to stay at the farmhouse. We scope that out first.”

“Well then let's at least find a vent with a dance floor view, I wanna watch Time Reaper and Union Jack drop fat beats!”

“Time Reaper and Union Jack?”

“You didn't see the big shiny sign on the DJ booth man? Crow dude and snake man, Leo!”

“Fine Raph you take him down while donnie and i stay up here.

but we stay put until I give the signal, got it?.”

We found a nice grate just to the left of the curtained stage so Mikey could watch the DJ’s work. On closer inspection the crow man also had a bird’s feet and tail, his body giving off the same smoke as the nightmare back at the farm. He had a broken sword hanging on his hip from a heavy gold chain and his band t-shirt had a hole in the center where red stained bandages wrapped around his scrawny chest. The snake man had bright green scales scattered over his shoulders like freckles and was wearing a tank top bearing a British flag. Around his throat he wore a spiked dog collar and sharp yellow claws tipped fingerless gloved hands that shot across the turntables. His wild blonde hair was streaked with the same acidic green as his scales and his slitted yellow eyes were ringed in thick black eyeliner.

There was a man with frosted hair and glowing blue eyes working the bar, when the hand that wasn't wearing a white silk glove touched the glasses they would become frosted over with ice. He wore a baby blue suit jacket over a slightly unbuttoned shirt, a black bow tie tied around his bare neck.

Two women with grey skin and orange horns worked the bar with him, each wearing different shades of blue. The smaller one in teal wore bright red shades and a bright red leather jacket that ended just above her midriff. Her hair was cut in a bob, the ends curling upwards and streaked with teal. Her “sister" had longer hair streaked with cobalt and she wore a heavy bikers jacket covered in studs over a dark blue tee. Her shades had been broken on one side leaving a sharply winged eye to gaze bitchily at her patrons while the other side glinted with 7 red gemstones pressed into the glass.

I couldn't see Elasia or her brothers anywhere.

After a while of watching the club patrons having fun the lights went out and the music stopped dead. Signaling for mikey to stay put I moved a little further down the vent shaft to try and regain a visual. The sound of the curtains on the stage rising was all I could hear until the crow DJ started speaking in low smooth tones.

“Ladies and Gentlemen and Beings of all configurations, the dark carnival is proud to present to you, Furie and the BFT!”

The scaled DJ was lit by blacklight on the left of the stage, a union jack guitar hung from his shoulders over a white button up shirt that was unbuttoned halfway down. As he started to play a familiar melody the lights faded in on the bass player, a tall young man with shoulder length blonde hair, a single curl hanging in front of swirling blue and violet eyes. He was meek but the notes from his sparkling white bass guitar were strong and deep. A pair of moose antlers stood proud over his skull as long bony fingers plucked the strings. The crow DJ came up behind him to compliment the bass with cool smooth piano notes, his shades were gone and his skin had turned to shadow behind bright red eyes. Finally the drummer came into the light, he looked a lot like the bassist but his skin was California tan, thick muscle peeking out from under a ripped Tee instead of his brother’s sinew and bone. his shorter hair was honey blonde instead of pale cornsilk, a single cowlic stuck up from the front over deep blue eyes the same shade as the blacklight. He had an American flag the shape of a star painted on his right cheek.

the guitarist slithered up to the mic.

--”On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair,

Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air.

Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light

My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim

I had to stop for the night.”

The dark empty stage was lit by a single amber spotlight through the mist. Elasia stood there, wings slightly spread, her outfit had been replaced by a sheer dress that shimmered, metallic gold outlining every dip and curve. Underneath she wore a skintight black leotard.

--”There she stood in the doorway;

I heard the mission bell

And I was thinking to myself,

‘This could be Heaven or this could be Hell’”

Her bare arms moved like water, tangling themselves in her hair and winding around her body

with the flow of the music. Her wings shifting around her body to show a flash of skin here and there as she danced.

--”Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way

There were voices down the corridor,

I thought I heard them say…”

The other members of the band joined in the chorus as three dimmer lights revealed the trio, each one wearing dark tights, their colored shirts unbuttoned and their wings high and strong.

--”Welcome to the Hotel California

Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)

Such a lovely face

Plenty of room at the Hotel California

Any time of year (Any time of year)

You can find it here”

They stood in pose as she wound her way through them, delicate hands touching skin as she practically used them as stationary objects to flip and twirl off of before spinning away. once again solo in her spotlight as they came to life in the background.

--”Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes Benz

She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys she calls friends

How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat.

Some dance to remember, some dance to forget.”

She worked with each one of them in turn, first in waltz, blue light overtaking her form and hiding it under an elegant ball gown. Second in a bouncing fox trot, her dress turning the same rich plum as her lips under ruby light. Third she danced a scandalous tango sparked with twirling gold bathed in rich emerald. Each dance held a spark of intimacy, a strong hand holding the wide-set hipbones of a bird, the other cradling the lower back as if in an embrace. Slender fingers entwined in gold, white, and chocolate hair, she caressed their faces as if they were lovers before spinning away leaving them forgotten. i felt a knot tying itself in my stomach while something in my chest was practically trying to shove me through the vent toward her.

--”So I called up the Captain,

"Please bring me my wine"

He said, "We haven't had that spirit here since nineteen sixty nine"

And still those voices are calling from far away,

Wake you up in the middle of the night

Just to hear them say…

Welcome to the Hotel California

Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)

Such a lovely face

They livin' it up at the Hotel California

What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise)

Bring your alibis.”

Dropping to the floor she spread her body long against the smooth dark floor, obscured by the smoke. A flash of a limb or the shadow of an impossible pose being the only sign of her as the three males danced in an acrobatic tandem, wings spread like fallen angels if the faces of nearly every woman watching were any indicator.

--”Mirrors on the ceiling,

The pink champagne on ice

And she said ‘We are all just prisoners here, of our own device’”

Rising up onto her toes like a long silk scarf lifted by a fan she pointed her leg straight up into the air, arms wrapped around it as if chained. Her wings were spread straight out behind her, sparkling with golden stars against a deep velvet night as she spun slowly around her makeshift post. Her skin was dyed gold in the light, only to be broken by her markings and scars, a silver spiders web tempting those watching to edge closer. I lent against the vent, the light squeak of protest causing me to hold back. I wanted to see more of her.

--”And in the master's chambers,

They gathered for the feast

They stab it with their steely knives,

But they just can't kill the beast!”

The trio surrounded her as she faked struggling against her “restraints” each one drawing back as if raising a knife only to bring empty fists down harmlessly against her body. She arched her back in fake pain, eyes having been nearly closed the entire time flying open wide, mouth open in a silent scream before dropping once again to the floor.

--”Last thing I remember, I was

Running for the door

I had to find the passage back

To the place I was before

‘Relax,’ said the nightman,

‘We are programmed to receive.

You can check-out any time you like,

But you can never leave!’”

Her movements changed now, crouched low against the floor. her eyes glowed with hunger and her dance took on a predatory stance. moving sharply and pausing in positions mimicking a wildcat stalking it's prey from cover. The amber light turned blood red and her dress took on a similar appearance against her snow white skin. Emerging from the fog, her golden halo of a spotlight gone, she encountered each man again in turn. Instead of her varying dances of seduction from before she danced a sharp and violent pasodoble. claws raked skin harmlessly, carefully practiced to avoid hurting her partners. As she finished her mouth fell to each one's throat as they fell back into placid compliance.

The Snake man's hypnotic voice faded to the music as each of the men lifted her in tandem from behind, her arms and legs held back as her wings spread wide. She looked like a goddess ruling over her subjects as they twirled her gracefully through the air. Trading her off between them in spectacular acts of timing and skill. Finally she was passed to Francis as their wings mingled in perfect contrast, sunlit white to rich black, spinning together as all the lights faded out.

My hands balled into fists against the jealous fire in my belly.

…

When the lights came back on the dancefloor was empty, each of the dancers placed nonchalantly amongst the crowd and redressed in their clothes from earlier. The crow and snake were back behind the DJ table and the audience exploded back to life with the opening to The Monster by Eminem.

I heard the light crackle of my radio as my brothers chattered across the airwaves.

“Did you guys see that, talk about hot, i can feel my shell tightening!”

“ Mikey show a little decorum, those are her brothers and Elasia is our friend.”

“Those acrobatic maneuvers were impressive though, who knew her body could bend and twist like that. could prove to be a significant combat advantage in close quarters.”

“Now we know why she didn't invite us along.”

“Yeah yeah we get it, now is this little recon mission over? I'm heading back to the fuckin van”

“Somebody has a crush on Elasia!”

Mikey’s teasing tone had me gritting my teeth as i rounded the corner of the vent, when he saw my face his mouth snapped closed and he started crawling away through the vents as quickly as he could and remain silent. I chased him through the tunnels back toward Leo and Donnie’s scout point, making threatening lunges for him to get him to move a little faster, put a bit of fear back in him. When we got to the last corner of the vent though we heard the sound of rending steel before the floor of the vent fell out from under us.

The impact of my shell against the concrete floor knocked the wind out of me so hard that i almost didn't see the glowing tree twist around on itself to break Donnie’s fall, The entire room was silent as every eye was on us. When i got back on my feet and shook off the sheet rock and concrete dust i looked up to meet Elasia’s eyes. Her face was twisted in anger and in something i couldn't place. there was a smudge of something red on the corner of her mouth.

The crowd started to murmer, a single word forming, Golem.

I looked behind me to check on my brothers to stall. The glowing tree was bending down to the floor to gently set Donnie on the ground. leo was helping him out of the tree because his legs were shaking, his eyes were wide behind his glasses where they had been knocked askew on his face during the fall. The chant of the crowd was getting louder, the same word over and over.

“Golem.”

Elasia brushed past me, her wing grazing my arm as she went to Donnie. She grabbed his hand turning it over before wrapping him in a hug. She lifted his arm into the air like the victor of a boxing match for everyone to see. In dark black was a triangle tattoo similar to Leo’s except his was marked by another line that sliced the tip off of the triangle pointing down toward his elbow.

“The Golem has returned!”

Leo grabbed donnie’s other hand raising his arm to show his mark, the word Undine joining the murmurs of the collected creatures.

“The Undine! The spirits of the West and the North live amongst us once again!”

Her brothers and the band members surrounded us to hold off the swarming crowds as Elasia wrapped us in her wings, shoving us through a door behind the stage.

“You four are in so much fucking trouble when we get home, I TOLD YOU to stay at the house and now all of Elasia knows your faces! Splinter is going to kill me!”

“You are the one who just started announcing us to the crowd!”

“I had to, one of the guardians of myth just fell through the fucking ceiling and willed a diamondwood tree to bend! If i hadn't spoken there would have been pandemonium!”

“My scans should have caught the weakness in the vent shaft, this is my fault. I didn't intend for this to happen…”

Donnie’s anxiety was ramping up into high gear, as he rocked gently, running his fingers over his straps to try and calm himself. It hasn't been this bad since we were kids. Mikey got to him first, putting one hand over his chest and one on his shell.

“Its ok Donnie, bro, just breath. That's right in and out, what's the 28th digit of pie... 34th.... 14th.... 65th? Just keep breathing.... steady.... You good Don?”

Donnie nodded, pulling on his mask tails to ground himself. Elasia knelt in front of him careful not to do anything that might trigger an aftershock.

“Donnie, Donatello look at me hun. It wasn't your fault, your soul was merely responding to the danger, just like how Leo shoved us out of the lake. Do you understand?”

Donnie nodded, pushing his glasses back up on his beak.

“You were born with a gift, it would have manifested itself sooner or later. This wasn't your fault, don't ever be ashamed of being who you are.”

She turned his hand over and traced the mark on his wrist, it glowed bright green.

“Donatello Hamato, You’ve been chosen as the Golem. Your soul will survive the test of eternity, your body and mind will be as steady as the ground, your soul one with the plants and the stone of the earth. Be proud of who you are as the mountain never bows to the pressures of the sky.”

Elasia’s pov

I followed the van home on my bike, inside i could see three of the brothers souls huddled together while Leonardo drove. Donnie took a little to pull out of his panic but his brothers were quick to act, even Raphael stopping his brotherly bullying to comfort his hatchmate. I had hoped that the brothers would take their awakenings with more and more ease as each took on their new abilities but it seemed that the mixture of the unexpected fall, the overwhelming attention, and my own outburst had triggered Donnie’s anxiety. I had suspected he had some minor anxiety issues stemming from being the quiet and often overlooked brother but he had gone into a full panic attack. I would have to apologise when things leveled back out with the brothers.

When we got back they all headed to their rooms without a word but a few minutes later I heard all four voices coming from the morning suite. They would probably end up sleeping in a pile, they usually ended up doing that when one of them was overly stressed or injured.

I was dressing down for the night when I heard a light knock on my door.

“Come in Leo, it's unlocked.”

When he entered his eyes immediately scanned the space for potential escape points before landing on me with an ice cold resolve. I gestured for him to sit on one of the four plush cushions on the floor around a short card table.

“Tea?”

I gestured to the black teaset in the center of the table, it was painted with the ethereal forms of running animals in bright silver. After regarding the set he nodded, watching as i poured two cups before taking a seat on the cushion opposite from him at the table.

“You wanted to talk with me?”

“What are you doing Elasia?”

I set my cup down with a sigh.

“Honestly i'm not doing anything, i simply wanted to give you four a week out of the city, a chance to see that you don't need to keep yourselves hidden in the shadows of those sewer tunnels all your lives. I mean i had my suspicions about your latent abilities after handling your souls, but if my radiant magic energies didn't trigger your awakening in the month i've spent with you guys i was convinced that my suspicions were false. The events of today were not a part of my plan in the least.”

He sipped his tea slowly before speaking, his voice taking on his “leader tone”

“So you did have a plan, i suspected as much, watching you train, you never fail to have some hidden trick in place when you would get into a tight corner.”

“Yes, though the main plan was to simply get you four some much needed down time, i was also hoping that through the course of the week i would become closer with one of your younger brothers.”

he sipped his tea, contemplating the swirling tea leaves in the cup as his face subtly twitched through his thoughts..

“You're good for him, since you started your secret training every week, he hasn't been as prone to his usual outbursts. Something about you is almost taming him.”

“So you noticed… i haven't been doing anything to change Raphael, i've only been showing him how to deal with his own abilities. I showed him how to deal with the overwhelming influx of emotion he felt on a daily basis and over time what started as simple acts of compassion, turned into more.”

“I don't understand, you say that Raph possess some sort of supernatural sensitivity to emotion?”

the cup was on the table now, half finished.

“It's called Empathy, it's typically a rather common skill, even humans can become skilled empaths with the correct training. What you interpreted as an extremely brash and aggressive nature in Raph was simply him becoming overwhelmed by the influx of emotions he was naturally feeling from the people around him. Once i taught him to block out and deal with those ambient emotions his true self started to shine through, he really is quite a kind and caring person, he just has a skewed way of expressing that.”

“Yes, chasing mikey through the vents with threats to rip his shell off is definitely affectionate.”

“Well that explains why you fell through the ceiling, but think for a moment, has Raph ever seriously hurt any of you?”

He thought for a moment.

“Not Donnie or Mikey but he has left me with a few good cuts and bruises over the years.”

“That is mostly because you fed most of his intrusionary emotions, he was compounding your anger on top of his own. But truly think, Raphael bench presses 1000 pounds as a basic workout. If he really wanted to hurt you, don't you think he could?’

The look on leo’s face told me everything i needed to know, the young man literally wears his emotions on his face. He had never thought about Raph pulling his punches, he was only thinking of the surface emotion of his interaction with his next eldest sibling. Interpreting the words coming out of his mouth as his intention instead of looking any deeper.

“A good leader understands how his charges think.”

He nodded, eyes returning to the cup, his face so muddled with emotion that i had trouble reading him.

“I think i understand what you had meant now.”

“I didn't tell you any of this, i promised Raph that this information wouldn't get out. But i don't lie to my coven. You four are as close to me as my own brothers.”

“They aren't even your real family.”

“The blood of covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. When you've lived as many times as i have you come to realize the truth of that statement, you will as well someday.”

He stood to leave, bowing slightly in thanks before turning to go,  stopping in the door though he turned to me.

“You said you had suspicions, did that include all of us?”

“The Sylph and Salamander will wake in their own time. For now i believe your brothers may need your presence, there is a storm on the horizon.”

[heyellejaye]

A History, of sorts.

There are so many factors that go into the person we become, and how we behave.

(This is such a long post, filled with hella real real life story, so hang with me here.  I promise there’s a sweet little golden nugget of encouragement at the end.  If you just want the nugget, scroll down - I won’t be mad if you do that)

**CW: drug use, neglect, suicidal thoughts**

For as long as I can remember, I was picked on for something.  

Everything.

Anything.

Being fat (I’ve always been fat, unless I was sick)

Wearing clothes that were too promiscuous

Wearing clothes that were too christian

Being too sexual

Being a prude

Being poor

Having money

Wearing old clothes

Wearing new clothes

Being too loud

Not speaking up enough

Having normal hair

Having crazy hair

Listening to weird music

Listening to top 40 music

Eating kale and mushrooms and nutritional yeast and other vegan lovelies

Eating mcDonalds

Having only a dad at home.

Having only a mom at home.

Literally the broad spectrum of nonsense garnered ridicule from early on.

Those used to bother me, but I learned to kinda brush them off.  Of course, it still sewed something of an awareness in my fabric of how “not enough” I was.   

When I was little, I remember one night in particular, my mom making a comment about my “thunder thighs” and how I shouldn’t dance too hard because my belly and legs wobbled too much.

I was 9, she was 35.

To be fair, she was high as fuck with her friends and I was up at 11 pm watching TV on a school night in the 3rd grade, so there was far more wrong with that picture than just being mocked by my mom for being a chunky kid.

I looked at her that night and committed her image into my head. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t end up as ugly as her.   She was 35, and weathered already.  She had worn herself down... tired eyelids hung heavy over vacant, wild eyes, lined all the way around in messy black eyeliner, making her blue-green irises something of an oasis in the whole mess, soot smudges from her pipe or whatever she was smoking that night on the side of her lip.  The image is burned in my mind with incredible detail.

That night shut me down.  Vulnerability became a struggle ever since.   I still don’t really dance, because of the wobble.  I’m working on that.

I wasn’t in her care much longer after that.  I saw so many really horrible things that addiction brings to users and the people in their wake. I can go into that another day, but there are a lot of things children shouldn’t have to deal with, and substance is the catalyst for a lot of that.

My dad got custody of my flock of siblings, and my mom spiraled into her own personal hell.  I didn’t see her very often after that, and when I had a chance, I kinda avoided the opportunities.  The mom that I remember when I was little was gone.  Burned away by substance, and replaced with a shaky, tongue-chewing shell of her former self, at best.

Going through my adolescence and teen-years without a mom didn’t seem weird to me, because the years leading up to it were largely mom-less too.  She was there, but kinda only on paper.  Never really in practice.  Except for the one time she told me that if I ever wanted to try drugs, that I should do them around her and not alone.

(looking back I just have to laugh at that statement, because again, I was 9 when it happened.  bless’er tweakerass heart.)

When we went to live with my dad, we almost immediately started going to church. I’m pretty sure my dad didn’t really know what to do with all these dang kids, and my Grandma who was and still is in constant devotion to a loving Jesus, told him to get us in church, so he did.

When you come from a place of neglect and trauma, surrounded by drug abuse, attending little conservative baptist church is like jumping into an icy lake after a hot shower.  It’s a shock to the system, and takes some pretty intense adjustment in behavior.  You get used to it, but there’s a process.

So, while I know the shift from my previous life to church was beneficial, every time someone said “we don’t say those things here” or “you can’t wear that here” or “That’s not how we behave”, “you should”, “you shouldn’t” was a little icy stab into my person.  Another patch sewn into my cloak of expectations, placed on my shoulders by outside individuals.  

Going through middle school and high school and beyond I was given a whole collection of “You should” and “You shouldn’t” patches that would make any Girl Scout chartreuse with envy.   Peers, adults, teachers, well-meaning relatives, church clergy, employers, boys who liked me, girls who liked me, boys and girls I liked... all sewed expectations into my personality that felt less like adornments and more like restraints.   It was rare (and not until high school, really) that someone poured into -me- specifically, and made me feel like I can be/do/think bigger than my circumstances. There were four people that come to mind, two of whom have now passed.  

(** NOTE - If you’re an educator and maybe you feel like you’re not getting through to the kids, I promise, I PROMISE, you are. You might be the reason they believe or even know that it’s possible to rearrange their stars**)

Somewhere along the way, I developed a chameleon soul.

The shoulds and shouldn’ts were so much to carry on one person, and so limiting, so the cloak became whatever the next person wanted it to be.  It’s hard to shake the tendency to accommodate everyone else’s opinions and preferences for who I should be, but I’m working on that, too.  

Take all of that life... All of those experiences, and mix media into that screwy little cake.  Media that tells us that we need to be skinnier, blonder, taller, have better hair, better makeup, cooler activities, perfect boobs, plumpier lips, brighter eyes, better skills, whiter teeth, perfect mental health, three college degrees, a great job, sunny shiny happy days all the goddamn time.   This part has been beaten to death, but in case you haven’t heard it yet... that’s not attainable.

I was FOREVER apologizing for who I was.  I would always make excuses for why I wasn’t good enough for praise for anything. “You look so pretty” “yeah, but my hair is a mess” “I love this picture you took” “yeah, but the lighting was weird, sooo...”  Gosh, Always excuses.    

I didn’t really learn that lesson well enough early on though.  

I tried.  I did.  But my chameleon soul tried so hard to be everything to everyone and eventually won.

Seasons came and went life happened and I met a boy.  We went from zero to 60, right away.

I got pregnant fast.  I got married fast.  I lost the baby a week and a half after we got married.  I convinced myself that it was God’s will that we lost the baby because we got a fresh start. I played house a while, had a couple more babies, I was attacked by depression, but still pretended to be happy. I did so much battle with my body. Not really for any reason, either.

I was married to a man who didn’t care how I looked, like... ever.  

He didn’t care that I was getting pudgier after babies.  He only ever made commentary when he was drunk.  Which wasn’t super often, but it wasn’t super rare, either.  And that’s not to say he was an alcoholic or anything, he was just more prone to poking fun when he had a few, and I was usually the target.  

He wasn’t big on compliments, and never had favorites, so the only “feedback” I got from my husband was negative.  It kicked me deeper into the need to look better to get positive affirmation, but also... I was SO depressed.  I had two babies under two and I was drowning in my own life.  I couldn’t let anyone know though, because a not-ok version of me was not who anyone wanted me to be.   I apologized for the space I took up.  I apologized for my chubby cheeks and post-baby tummy flab, and my armpit fat, and my wonky boobs and my tired eyes. I didn’t feel like I was worth compliments, honest hugs or good sex... but I pretended to be happy.

God, I worked my ass off to show everyone how happy I was.

(spoiler alert, I wasn’t.  I wasn’t ever fucking happy.  I wasn’t even interested in being alive anymore)    I didn’t want anyone to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do to be a better version of myself, and GOD forbid I admit that my happy world was less than sterling.  Why wouldn’t I be happy?  I had a cute husband and cute kids and a cute business and a cute little chunk of land in a cute little town, I attended a trendy church... literally everything looked so perfect.    Except for the person I saw in the mirror.  

I looked in the mirror and saw those heavy eyelids over dead eyes. I saw the face of a woman I never wanted to become.

I never fell into chemical substance, instead I was addicted to being everything.  The cloak I wore was my drug... and it wasted me away.  It stole the life from my eyes.  I didn’t actively seek deterioration with drugs or alcohol, but every morning, I’d lie in bed and wonder what I could do to end the parade.

I wasn’t ok, and I couldn’t talk about it with just anyone, but I had a couple of far-away friends with whom I could share the heavy thoughts.  They were ears and shoulders when I needed them to be.  They didn’t know JUST how heavy the thoughts were, but they were there for the parts I was willing to share.  They encouraged.  They challenged my self doubt and allowed space for me to be proud of myself for small reasons, and then big reasons.   They spoke life into my too-tired heart.  

I decided in that season of life that I would choose my good self. I would make choices that lead to a healthier mind. I would choose deep-down-in-my-bones joy.  I decided that I would live. Not just be alive, but -live-.  I decided that I would create things that I loved.  I’d hug with my whole self.  No ass-out hugs.  When someone fell into my arms, they would know that I wanted them there.

I decided to be better for myself and wear a face that my children could remember with fondness and not be ashamed of when they saw the same face in the mirror.  

I decided to choose to be a light for the people that cross my path, as often as I can.   I can’t build their path, but I CAN shine a light so maybe they can find their own.  

I’ve lived a whole life since that season, which is a completely different novel in itself, but the time between has been a healing space.  It’s been a big mistake making space, and a growing space and a hurting space, but the forward motion is remarkable.

I’m a week away from 35.  I hadn’t given a lot of thought to the significance of this age until lately.  I look at my whole self in the mirror and I’m proud of who I am.  I like the face I see in the mirror.  I like the way my eyes shine in pictures.  

I like the life they carry. I like my big soft body.  I like that I’m a safe place to land for my children.  I like that I can wrap hugs around my friends.  I like that my big strong legs can carry me up a mountain, even if I get a little out of breath.  I like that I’ve created humans and I’ve eaten yummy food with people I love.  I am pretty active sometimes, and sometimes I lose a little weight, and sometimes I gain a little weight, and I can’t complain too much because this body serves me so well.  I’m fat, but I also think I’m quite lovely. I don’t see those as opposing adjectives.  Fatness and loveliness can hold hands and play happily.

I have shortcomings.  I deal with some thick anxiety sometimes, and sometimes I eat too many pieces of pizza, then I feel like I need a nap, and sometimes I still take on too much, trying to be all of the things all of the time to everyone,and then I completely drop the ball and let people down...  but I’m working on making better decisions and facing that kooky anxious stuff head on.  It’s a process.

I’m a recovering chameleon.  I’m trying my best every day to not attempt to be everything to everyone, but I struggle.

The shoulds and shouldn’ts still weigh heavy on my shoulders, and some days I wear the cloak longer than others.  Trying to be free of it causes its own issues, but my feet are pointed in the right direction, I think.  

(here’s the nugget if you’re just joining from the top)

I am not the words that other people have placed on me.

I am not the opinions of other people.  

I am not the expectations of other people.

I am not the tragedy I have seen

I am not the circumstances from which I have walked.

I am not the mistakes I have made.

I am not the successes I have gathered.

I am not my illness

I am not my family

I am not everything to everyone.

And neither are you.

I’m not ok sometimes. And sometimes... I’m so ok.

I’m more than ok, I’m incredible, and I believe that the future is only more brilliant than the already radiant now.  

I hope for you, if any of this resonates with you, that you also can see your own radiance.  Not the cloak of shoulds and shouldn’ts that other people have put on your shoulders.  

I hope you really live, and you do the things you love, and you overflow with abundant joy that spills onto the people around you. I hope that when people hug you, they know that you want them there, and I hope that you only hug people you want to hug.  

I hope you know that the body you’re in is a miracle.  The odds of you being here are FOUR TRILLION to one.  You could have showed up in this life as a toaster.  But you’re not.  You’re an incredible being, capable of fat tears and belly laughs and loving someone so much it hurts and inspiring hope and surviving really heavy shit.   Toasters can’t do any of that.

And I hope upon hope that the person you see in the mirror is someone you like.