#Hearts Chunky Beanie

[explorationsofobsession]

1 Hour Heart Beanie

A few years ago I posted about a chunky knit beanie that I called the 1 Hour Beanie…. as it flew by knitting it. This is a Valentines Version of the same hat. You will need:– Super bulky yarn – in 2 colours.– 15mm knitting needles – circular.– darning needle, scissors and a pom-pom. Cast on 32 (40, 48) stitches Rows 1-8 (9, 10)– Knit 1, Purl 1 rib over these rows Knit 2 (3, 4) rows in the…

[withmyloveasyourgarden]

CINNAMON SWEET

STEVE HARRINGTON X F!READER

A cute little diner, friends that secretly conspire to give you and Steve the push you both need, and a planned breakfast that suddenly feels a lot more like a date - not that either of you are complaining. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]

Realistically, Steve should have known there was something going on when everyone, except you and him, suddenly couldn't make it to the breakfast that they'd all planned. 

But he hadn't really thought much of it when Max said she was teaching El how to skate or when Eddie and the rest of the kids said there was important Hellfire stuff that needed doing. 

Robin had picked up an extra shift at work and when Steve had shot her a briefly suspicious look, she had simply smirked and said something about how she needed to stop being broke and finally get a licence. Because it's not like he could drive her around forever and ‘I can't be third wheeling when you finally get a girl willing to put up with you Harrington.’

And maybe he would have put it together if he hadn't been so god damn nervous.

If there weren't butterflies in his stomach right up until he pulled up in front of your house and if his brain didn't stutter every time he thought of how it was just going to be you and him. 

He didn't fare any better when you stepped outside, the same startling grin on your face when your eyes found his that had stolen his heart the very first time he'd seen it.

There was a softness to how you were dressed that made him ache, all chunky-knit sweaters and pretty-coloured beanies, the scarf that Steve had given to you last year when you took the kids ice-skating and later you'd teasingly informed him he would never get back. 

He couldn't help but hope that he never would if it meant he kept getting to see you walk around in something of his. The feeling he got in his chest when you would catch his eyes on it - smile half hidden beneath the dark wool, hopelessly shy, and your own gaze tinged warm. 

It was one that lingered as you climbed into the car, a gust of cold wind entering with you that stirred at Steve's hair and blew the scent of spiced apple and vanilla from your body wash all around him, hands tightening around the steering wheel and teeth clamped because he was sure he would blurt out something stupid when he realised how the smell instantly brought him comfort. 

"Hey." You murmured from beside him, voice soft, still a little thick from sleep like you hadn't fully woken up yet and Steve was pretty sure he felt something in his chest melt at the sound. "Is it just us?" 

"Hey, sweetheart." He hummed without thinking, the pet name slipping too easily past his lips like it had always held a place on his tongue when he spoke about you, and he was too preoccupied with watching the road to be aware of the way you flushed in response. "Looks like it, apparently everyone else has plans that couldn't wait. S'that okay?" 

And it's not that he necessarily thought you would have a problem with it but he wanted to make sure anyway. Because you and Steve had never really done anything like this before, there was always other people around - the kids or Robin and Eddie, or any time you had spent alone together was either spent entertaining each other at work or in an alternative dimension, fighting for your lives. 

This, right here and now, felt different and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you had to be there if you didn't want to be. 

But then, to the boy's delight, you turned your head to grin at him, soft and warm, eyes bright. Looking every bit like you had always belonged in the passenger seat of his car, right beside him, just like this. "That's fine Steve." You told him. "It's their loss." 

**

The drive to the diner that Steve had chosen, a little bit out of the way instead of sticking to the one in town, was simultaneously never-ending and not long enough. 

An easy conversation flowed between you both. The nerves that had fluttered in your belly at the realisation it would just be the two of you slowly fading as you listened to Steve sing along to the music under his breath, only for them to then reappear with a vengeance when his hand occasionally brushed against your knee as he shifted gears. 

Each time he would withdraw his hand, cheeks tinged a soft pink, his apology a little choked sounding as he coughed to clear his throat. 

You had to pretend that the fleeting touch didn't burn you each time, that you didn't wish you could catch his fingers with yours and pull his hand back to rest on your knee instead of telling him ‘don't worry about it.’

And by the time you were unbuckling your seatbelt, nearly tumbling out of the door in your need for fresh air, there was a heady kind of tension between you. A sweet ache that made you feel permanently too warm, too giddy each time soft, brown eyes landed on yours and he smiled that same devastating smile that had labeled you a goner from the moment you had met him.

He waited for you to join him around the front of the car before he motioned towards the place with a little ta-da, his expression adorably pleased when you gave a delighted laugh before your gaze flickered to the quaint, little building, intrigued.

It didn't look like much at first glance but there was charm in its simplicity, all the decorations that they'd lovingly put in place for the season and the upcoming holiday making it feel homely and your heart undeniably happy. 

"How did you hear about this place?" You asked curiously whilst walking to the door. 

There was barely any space between you and every now and again you accidentally bumped arms or your fingers brushed, almost catching, so close to holding, but never quite. And unlike in the car, this time there was no quickly pulling away, no muttering of an apology, instead you both allowed it to happen like you were waiting to see if the other would pull away or if they'd be the one brave enough to move closer. 

But neither of you did and Steve quickly pulled you away from thoughts of if you should when he answered,

"Joyce told me. Said she used to bring Jonathan and Will here all the time because Will was convinced they did the best cinnamon waffles and hot chocolate." He grinned softly, eyes golden in the light of the sun and his expression briefly hesitant when he drew his lip between his teeth before adding. "It uh, it made me think of you."

"I remind you of waffles and hot chocolate? Is it because I'm just so sweet?" You joked. 

He shook his head with a huffed laugh, a rogue strand of hair falling into his eyes that you ached to brush away. "I wouldn't say that, well maybe, I guess?" He contradicted himself, cheeks a little flushed as he caught your amused stare, the pretty twinkle in your eyes that grew the more the boy spoke. "You mentioned that cinnamon waffles and hot chocolate was your favourite thing to have for breakfast that time we were at Robin's and– wait - shit - did I remember wrong?" 

You were stunned - a little too much so that you couldn't answer him for a moment, simply blinking at him as Steve's face grew worried. 

He brought you back with a hushed murmur of your name and you were suddenly fighting to breathe against the golden warmth flooding through your chest. 

"No, no, no, that's right." You assured him, a steadily beaming smile creeping across your face and Steve practically lit up with relief. "I just can't believe you remembered."

He snorted a little as he reached for the door and swung it open, a strong arm catching around your waist and pulling you into him to create a clear path for the elderly couple who were on their way out. 

"I remember a lot of things about you, probably more than I should." His voice was softer than you'd ever heard it and if the boy heard or even felt the way your breath hitched then he didn't say anything. Simply smiling proud and wide as the old couple thanked you, the lady cooing about 'what a cute couple you were and such lovely manners too.'

And when you finally dared to chance a look up at him he was already watching you. The tension from the car ride returning, something electric brewing in the small space between you that apparently made the boy feel bolder.  

"I did forget something today though." He mumbled, gaze a little warmer, a little flirtier, fixed on yours as he lifted his hand to tug high at your scarf, a light touch that caused his hand to barely graze the edge of your jaw and jesus christ, you couldn't fucking breathe. "Should have told you how pretty you look the moment you stepped foot in my car." 

You hadn't even realised your hands had made their way to his chest, fingers caught gently in his jacket from when you had swayed into him. But his breath was warm on your face and his nose was bumping yours and you swore there was a question in those pretty, honey eyes as they flicked from yours to your lips and slowly back. 

"I think I could maybe forgive you for taking this long." You whispered and he grinned, sticky-sweet and lovesick. 

"Yeah?" 

It was a question that you so badly wanted to answer by tilting your chin and pressing your lips to his. You wanted nothing more than to push yourself further into him, ached to feel him wrap himself around you, arms tight and mouth warm and giving under yours. 

But just as his lips brushed yours, the faintest echo of a touch, and you heard the boy's breath hitch, there was a crash from inside.

The sound of a plate shattering and cutlery hitting hardwood loud enough that the two of you jumped and stumbled apart with wide eyes. Gazes a little shy now the bubble you'd found yourselves in had been popped, allowing the world to rush around you once again. 

For a few moments you both just stood there, you nervously chewing at your lip as Steve ran a hand through his hair, musing it further than the wind had already. But then you caught the boy's eye and the laughter that bubbled out from you both sounded quiet and breathless, but real.

Happy.

And you could hardly bite back the smile when he tilted his head towards the inside of the diner and grinned. 

"After you, sweetheart." 

[davysaysstuff]

NPMD Phone Headcanons:

Richie:

- Phone is cracked to all hell. Paul forced him to get an otterbox phone case so it won’t break as often. Richie actually used to have one of those really chunky and obnoxious Sanrio cases but it kept falling out and cracking

- Has a shit ton widgets, one for Spotify, one for doulingo, and one for a chibi cat game he downloaded

- His photos are loaded with screenshots and memes of his favorite anime’s and characters, with the occasional Ruth and Peter here and there

- Richie has a bunch of stickers plastered around his phone, some from comic cons and some from Ruth

- Has three sets of headphones for his phone, a wire one, big wireless headphones, and wireless earbuds

- Phone is always at 20% or 10%

- Has about 500 billion AO3 tabs open on his google account

- His phone wallpaper is Asuka and Rei fanart

- Usually has his phone on DND, which causes his family and friends to worry when he doesn’t respond because he doesn’t see it

Peter:

- A really sturdy and old looking phone, but not like a Nokia

- Barley a scratch, he keeps good care of his belongings, thank you very much

- One single sticker from Richie and a small drawn on heart from Steph(he couldn’t get richies sticker off and he didn’t want to get Steph’s heart off)

- Owns Pandora to listen to music

- Has 6 numbers exactly, all others are either deleted or moved to Junk. In order, his mother, Ted, Richie, Ruth, Steph, and Grace. He doesn’t message Grace much, he only got her number for the plan

- Has beanies on speed-dial(for pickup when Ted wants coffee)

- His phone is at lowest 70%. He keeps it well charged and has a portable charger on him

- His phone wallpaper is a selfie of him and Steph at a festival

Ruth:

- Do NOT go through her photos or search history…

- Too many phone numbers, mostly from telemarketers. She saves them and messages them when she’s particularly lonely until they block her

- Ruth’s phone case is mostly stickers at this point. Doesn’t matter what it is, if she finds it on the ground, she slaps it on

- Her phone wallpaper is a plain color. She never learned how to change it

- Has Richie and Spotify on speed dial

- Ruth always has tangled headphones in her backpack, which takes her approximately an hour to untangle

- Back of her phone is cracked to the point you can see the inter workings of the phone

Steph:

- The latest and up to date phone(‘curtesy’ of her father)

- Her phone wallpaper is a photo of Peter she took

- Most of her photos are of her dog, Peter, Ruth, and Ritchie, but she does have a lot of selfies and photos of herself when she dresses up and posts them on instagram

- Has a lot of phone numbers, not because she talks to a lot of people but just because she gets peoples numbers then forgets the text them

Grace:

- Landline.

[astralis-ortus]

ways to say 'i love you'

✱ a bang chan headcanon

— an awkward phrase for him, so he resorts to showing his affection instead.

w.count → 0.6k genre → fluff. pure fluff because i miss him :( warnings → very minor cussing (is saying ass includes as cussing?), just very domestic chan thingy a.n → again, i'm in my 'missing chan' hours and writing this at 2 in the morning was hopefully enough to lessen some of that feeling (it was not)(also this is absolutely not proofread)(who has the right mind to proofread at 2am AND after a crying sesh?) ⋆ see masterlist

chan’s a busy man—but it was never a problem for him to make time for you.

be it on the days where his schedules were dictated down to the second, or even worse—when he’s constantly away, for weeks on end, performing in cities where your days were the exact opposites of his nights, he would always make it a point that you know the thought of you never once leaves his mind.

captioned ‘was going on a stroll and came across this park, heh’ as he sent you a picture of him going on a swing, or ‘look at this giant ass churro!! hahah you’d definitely love it here’ when he went to an amusent park with his members on his day off, thousands of miles away from you. your gallery easily surpasses the tens of thousands count, and it’s all from the way chan remembers you in his mundane, everyday life.

chan would also make a connection between you and the small things around him.

his chunky chrome hearts beanie? yeah, it’s the one you said turned him into the wolfchan plushy he gifted you. his earbuds? oh, you stuck a glittery star shaped sticker on the case so you wouldn’t take the wrong one. his laptop? it still made him giggle when he remembered how panicked you were when he told you the thing wouldn’t turn on, only for him to then realize he just forgot to charge it (and he had to appease you from leaving him on read by promising to call as soon as his rehearsal ends).

even when everything is technically his, chan couldn’t help but leave traces of you in his memories of those things—because for him, everything is better with a touch of you in it.

chan loves taking care of you, but he can’t decide if he loves it more when you’re the one taking care of him.

don’t get him wrong—he’d still try very hard to be the dependable one in your relationship. it’s in his blood, he can’t help it... but what power does he have when you adorably said that you’ve been learning on how to take care of his curls, and how you wanted to try the products that just came in the mail earlier in the day. he’d have no choice but to obediently sit between your legs, taking glances of your furrowed brows through the mirror across while your fingers were busy making sure his hair finally turned into the glorious curls you’ve always longed it to be.

if by letting you take care of him made your eyes turn into the brightest constellation of stars he’s ever seen in his life, then he will forever allow you to take care of him.

also, let’s not forget how chan loves his dose of physical touch.

constantly being away never made the trips any easier for him. if any, the periods of actually being with you made it harder for him to ever leave. imagine going from constantly having your gentle body heat around him, to not having them for an extended period of time? lord, chan would give anything just to be able to feel the way your fingers absentmindedly trace figures on his palm while you were reading your books away, like that one night when you stubbornly decided to accompany his all-nighter attempt at his studio.

chan direly needs your touch—he direly needs you.

and after everything you’ve done for him,

after everything you’ve went through,

chan finally realizes that there’s one sure way to let you know that he loves you.

so the next time you sleepily said you think you’re going to bed,

or when you text him a random meme along with an ‘i miss you’  text on a regular thursday evening,

he’d make sure he didn’t forget to tell you the line

“i love you.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[lilyprettyremy]

How to Thrive This Winter❄️✨

Brrr, baby, it’s cold outside! But don’t worry—cold weather doesn’t have to mean boring layers and dry skin. It’s time to cozy up, glow up, and own the winter like the stylish snow angel you are. Let’s dive into some fabulously fun and ultra-practical tips for thriving when it’s freezing!

1. Layers, but Make It Fashion!

Think of layering as your chance to create a Pinterest-worthy winter look. Start with thermal basics (cute ones, obviously), add a soft knit sweater, and top it off with a statement coat. Don’t be afraid to mix textures—wool, velvet, and fleece are winter’s dream team.

Style Hack: Belt your oversized coat for a snatched look and pair it with earmuffs for retro-cute vibes!

2. Keep Those Tootsies Toasty

Cold feet? Ew, no. Treat your toes to fleece-lined socks or those fluffy slipper socks that feel like heaven. Bonus points if they’re pastel pink or covered in sparkles. Waterproof boots are a must, but why not go for ones with faux fur trim? Practical AND adorable.

Pro Tip: Grab mini hand warmers for your boots on extra chilly days—they’re a lifesaver!

3. Moisturize, Hydrate, Repeat

Winter is out here trying to steal your glow, but we’re not letting it win. Upgrade to a thicker moisturizer and keep lip balm on hand (hello, peppermint-flavored kisses). Hydrate from the inside too—water, herbal teas, and broths will keep your skin dewy and fresh.

Cutie Tip: Carry a mini face mist in your bag for a quick hydration boost that also smells divine.

4. Hot Drinks = Warm Soul

Coffee, hot cocoa, chai lattes—whatever warms your heart, make it cute! Add marshmallows, whipped cream, or even a cinnamon stick for that extra flair. And don’t forget a mug that matches your vibe—sparkly, pastel, or maybe even a personalized one?

Pro Idea: Try a "hot chocolate bar" night with friends. Think toppings galore and the coziest vibes ever.

5. Cozy Up Your Space

Your home is your winter wonderland. Think fairy lights, chunky blankets, and candles that smell like sugar cookies or pine forests. There’s no such thing as too cozy in the winter!

Mood Boost: String some faux ivy or flowers around your mirror for a dreamy winter garden vibe.

6. Winter Proof Your Hair

Cold air can be harsh on your locks, so show them some extra love. Use a leave-in conditioner and silk scrunchies to keep frizz at bay. Also, hats are a must—but make it chic with a beret or pom-pom beanie!

Hair Flair: Add a touch of glitter spray to your hair for winter nights out—because you deserve to sparkle.

7. Move Your Booty (Even When It’s Cold)

Winter is prime snuggle season, but don’t forget to move! Indoor yoga, dance sessions to your fave playlist, or even a brisk walk in the snow will warm you up and lift your mood.

Motivation Tip: Treat yourself to cute workout gear that doubles as loungewear—because who says comfy can’t be stylish?

8. Channel Your Inner Snow Queen

Winter is all about finding magic in the small things. Go ice skating, snap aesthetic snow pics, or cozy up with a rom-com marathon. Romanticize your life, babe—you’re the main character!

Vibes: Picture yourself twirling in the snow with a fluffy scarf, latte in hand. Dreamy, right?

Winter isn’t just a season—it’s your chance to shine in layers, cozy corners, and all the warm drinks your heart desires. So grab your fuzzy socks, fluffiest blanket, and make this cold weather your most stylish and comfy era yet!

What’s your go-to winter survival tip? Share it below, and let’s spread the cozy vibes!

[archangeldyke-all]

HIIIII ANGELLLL

SEVIKA WITH A PLUSHY I REPEAT SEVIKA WITH A PLUSHY. I know you did a small thing about reader with plushies but I thought it’d be cute for Sevika to be the one with plushies. Maybe reader stays over for the first time and finds her plushie collection hidden somewhere. Sevika would for sure deny and get insecure that it’s hers but READER JUST FINDS IT CUTE. I defo think she has the one she had since she was a baby that she still sleeps with. Perhaps it’s a small collection of those tiny beanie babies which she had a obsession with when she was younger (and still is obsessed with) or those squish mellow stuffies. (She has names for them too)

Thank you pookie 😩

WAHHHHHH

men and minors dni

sevika doesn't have many personal mementos or keepsakes. she's not a sentimental person, and she didn't have a lot growing up to hold onto. but there is one thing that she holds near and dear to her heart.

'stinky bear.'

stinky bear is a tiny little plushy, about the size of a beanie baby, that can fit comfortably in the palm of her large hand now. she's had it since she was a kid, it was the first stuffy her parents got her, and the only one she ever seemed to like.

she took him everywhere when she was a kid, shoving him in her back pocket and toting him all around town.

she only stopped taking him everywhere when, one tragic day at the ripe age of four and a half, sevika dropped stinky bear in the street, and watched in horror as a car ran right over him.

he was rescued, but he was never the same. his fluffy brown fur was matted, his head was separated from his body, one of his eyes missing. her mom tried her best to put him back together, throwing him in the wash and stitching his head back on with a chunky purple yarn, replacing his missing eye with a spare black button.

after that day, sevika started leaving stinky bear in her bed, treating him with gentle, reverent care, only touching him at bedtime, curling him into her arms and holding him tight to her chest.

sevika had to grow up way too fast. by the time she was ten, she was numb to the horrors of the world. she bulked up and taught herself how to fight, how to blend in and go without notice, and when to stand out and speak up. all her toys and childish games losing their whimsy as she became more and more disillusioned.

but she could never find it in her to let go of stinky bear.

not when she's been holding him every night since she was a baby. not when he's been by her side through thick and thin, soaking up her silent tears every single night. not when he's been through so much already.

stinky bear could stay.

stinky bear did stay.

when sevika moved out on her own, leaving her old drunkard of a father and the ashes of her mother on the mantel behind, stinky bear came with her.

he doesn't send the night in bed with her every night, now now that she's grown, but he sits on her bedside table permanently, ready and waiting for whenever sevika might need him.

and when she has nightmares, when she has horrible days at work, when she loses a fight or has a shitty hangover or feels alone, she reaches for stinky bear, curling her giant, grown body around the tiny, run down plushy.

when sevika has people over, stinky bear goes in the closet.

partly because she doesn't want to hear the teases her friends and co-workers and the girls from babette's are likely to throw out, partly because she's horrified of something happening to him while her back's turned.

she doesn't have people over often. in all her time in her apartment, she's had people over less than a dozen times, but still. stinky bear goes in the closet when she does. (sometimes in her fire-proof safe.)

and then she meets you.

the first few times you go over to sevika's place, you're way too preoccupied with her to notice anything else.

but after long enough, sevika and you become comfortable enough to just... hang out.

it's one of those kinds of dates, where you're really just existing in each other's space as one of you works or cleans or reads, when you first meet stinky bear.

sevika's reading and drinking, and you're taking a shower in her bathroom-- her water pressure is so much better than yours.

when you get out of the shower, you realize you forgot to grab a towel for yourself. so, you dart into sevika's bedroom and rifle through her closet looking for a towel.

you don't find any. but you do find stinky bear.

the sweet little plushy is sitting front and center in her closet, on top of a pile of neatly folded sweaters. it's clear that he's old and well loved-- his ears are a little crusty, his fur is stained and matted, he's got mismatched eyes, and he's sewn together with purple yarn across the neck.

your heart melts.

sevika has a stuffed animal.

you don't say anything about it, it's clear she doesn't want to talk about it if she's hidden it away like this. you just gently press a peck to the bear's little head and close the closet door.

when sevika asks you to move in with her, you expect her to finally introduce you to stinky bear.

she doesn't.

you feel almost bad.

sure, she's got you to hold now when she's having nightmares, and you're able to actually hold her back and comfort her with gentle words of affection. but you can tell stinky bear means something to her (especially when you catch her standing in her closet, gently stroking his fur one night.)

so, you decide to do something about it.

one morning as you're making the bed, you pull stinky bear out of the closet and gently place it on sevika's side of the bed, pulling the covers up underneath the tiny bear's chin, and giving it a kiss.

you don't say anything. you just leave it for her to find.

when she does (and she doesn't tell you this until you guys are married) she sobs.

the fact that you knew and you still didn't make her talk about it, knowing how hard words are for her-- the fact that you didn't tease her about it-- the fact that you treated stinky bear with such gentle regard, his head resting gently against her pillow, the his arms out over the blankets-- the fact that you knew she'd been missing him-- it makes her weak in the knees.

there's no conversation about it. but when you get home that night, you find sevika sleeping on top of the covers, stinky bear tucked into the crook of her arm as she snores.

when you crawl in beside her, she blinks awake, and you smile. she smiles shakily back at you.

"his name's stinky bear." she whispers, her voice raspy. you smile and lean forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then a much gentler one to stinky bear's.

and after that, stinky bear resides in you and sevika's bed, back where he belongs.

every morning, you tuck him into bed under the covers for sevika to come home to.

when you guys fuck in bed, you always pause to gently place the old stuffy on the bedside table-- facing away from the two of you, of course.

(and when you're done, you put him right back where he came from.)

each night, sevika sleeps where she always sleeps with you-- right on top of you, her head on one of your tits, her leg hiked up over yours.

but now, instead of her hand groping your free tit, she's gently holding stinky bear.

okay, are you ready to really cry?

when you guys have your daughter, sevika passes stinky bear down to her.

she loves the bear almost as much as she loves her mommas.

(and sometimes, when sevika's particularly upset or sick, you sneak stinky bear out of your daughter's sleeping arms and bring him to your bedroom for sevika to hold for a while.)

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[wintfleur]

𓈒  ୭ৎ   ˖˙  ᰋ  ── SHE KNOWS SHE’S JUST THAT GIRL

aka stella’s profile

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

ꪆ୧ BASICS ! 

name: Estella Grace Hughes 

nicknames:

stella (everyone) 

stell (mostly luke) 

stells (her friends) 

stellur (close friends) 

stink (quinn) 

brat (jack) 

buthead (jack) 

tiny hughes (her brothers friends) 

princess (her dad) 

lovey (her mom)

birthday and zodiac: may 5th 2004, taurus 

location: manchester, new hampshire(born), toronto, ontario(former) michigan (current) 

ꪆ୧ ABOUT ! 

personality: she can be very quiet, but she is very friendly and bubbly! She can be a little flirty to people (especially when she's drunk) she’s definitely chaotic around people she's comfortable with, and clingy. But all in all, she's a very sweet girl who just loves helping people and having fun. 

good traits:  hard-working, warm-hearted, helpful, optimistic, compassionate, patient, honest, loyal, organized, family oriented, good listener, witty, protective of her family and friends

bad traits: people pleaser, can be over emotional when shes tired, her determination can turn into stubbornness, can be naive at times, can ramble on for way to long 

quirks: going super quiet, getting lost in her own thoughts, biting her lip, laying her head on people's shoulder, holding people's hands, 

likes: her nintendo switch, bored and video games, ear muffs, twilight, stuffed animals, the canucks, sleeping, mini skirts, lando norris, sonny angels, kpop 

dislikes: hiccups, driving, messy places, being compared to her brothers, rude fans, feeling sick, loud places, her anxiety 

hobbies: reading, photography, hockey, ballet, all types of dancing really, baking, scrapbooking, singing and playing the guitar 

fears: drawing, deep water, being alone, being stuck in tight places 

strengths: creativity, her ambition, kindness, honesty, moral compass 

weaknesses: self critical, her anxiety, insecurity of disappointing people, perfectionism, to hard on herself 

languages spoken: english (fluent) korean (fluent) 

occupation/profession: professional figure skater, is an art major 

ꪆ୧ RELATIONSHIPS ! 

parents:

Jim hughes 

Ellen hughes 

sibling(s): 

Quinn hughes

Jack hughes

Luke hughes 

best friends: daisy ahn, park sunghoon, lily baileys, carmen barlowe, mark estapa, trevor zegras, ethan edwards, tate mcrae, luca fantilli 

friends: all the umich boys, most of her brothers friends, jamie drysdale, sturniolo triplets, will smith, ryan leonard, gabe perreault + more 

love interest: rutger mcgroarty 

ꪆ୧ MORE ! 

scent: she uses a lot of different perfumes, she loves trying out new ones so her collection is pretty big, so perfume wise it's never really the same. She uses rose or vanilla body wash and shampoo and conditioner. She likes using the same body products, not really changing up with that. 

outfits: she is very confident and comfortable with herself so she tends to wear more revealing clothes, mini skirts, short dresses, low rise anything, cropped shirts, sweaters and vests, tight off the shoulder tops. But she loves all different styles and she loves trying them out, but those are just some of her main pieces of clothing. She really loves wearing low rise jeans or dress pants with midriff tops. When it's colder she loves layering clothes. Or when she just doesn't feel like getting all dressed up she’ll throw on a short skirt and sweater or some jeans and a top. She has all different kinds of shoes, all different types of boots (cowboy, moto boots, platform chunky boots and more) chunky or platform mary janes, sneakers, heels, she loves them all! She's a big lover of steve madden shoes. 

accessories: she loves accessorizing, she loves anything involving fashion really!! She has a large collection of different types of bags and sunglasses(she loves collecting them), they are definitely her favorite thing + jewelry, to accessorize with. She also has quite a lot of hats, mostly ball caps, beanies and berets. She also really loves utilizing long and thin scarves when she's wearing a short skirt or shorts. She also occasionally will wear a headband, heavily inspired by Blair waldorf. In the colder weather she's almost always rocking ear muffs

jewelry: she has a 2 and R necklace that rutger got her, and she's almost always wearing one of them. She has a matching charm bracelet that her best friend Daisy got her and she's always wearing that. For rings, she's always switching between the few she has, but she's not really a ring person. 

makeup: stella isn't really a big makeup girl, she likes a little bit of eyeliner and doing her lips, some highlighter on her cheeks, but it's not a lot. 

sexuality: bisexual (only a few know) 

height: 5’7 

piercing(s): 2 in each ear, bellybutton, niples 

tattoo(s): none yet 

face claim: gracie abrams 

ꪆ୧ FAVORITES ! 

food(s): cherries, french fries, blueberries 

drink(s): water, coke, hot chocolate, redbull 

color(s): pink, green, brown, white 

animal(s): bunnies, bears, dogs, cats 

bands and artist: ABBA, Lana dey rey, tate mcrae, enhypen, wallows, 5 seconds of summer = so many more 

show(s): pretty little liars, criminal minds, to many kdramas to name 

movie(s): tangled, mamma mia, bride wars, mighty ducks 2, every batman movie 

person: quinn, rutger and daisy ahn 

ꪆ୧ FUN FACTS !

She is the youngest of the Hughes clan, and as the only girl and youngest that means her older brothers are very protective. Mostly Jack and Luke, Quinn isn’t as intense as the other two.

Quinn is her favorite person in the whole world, she tells him everything. He likes to say that she’s his favorite, and it’s true.

She had the biggest crush on Trevor growing up, he likes to tease her about it. So does Luke.

Jack and Luke scared off all the boys growing up!

She’s not the biggest fan of swimming.

Her love language is physical touch, she’s a big cuddler and she loves holding hands.

Her two best friends are lily (lils) and Carmen (minnie) they have been friends since they were little, lily is on the women's volleyball team and Carmen does figure skating with her.

Her best best friend, who is like her sister is Daisy Ahn (an oc made by @qoqurt ) they have been best friends since they were little

Her best guy friend is Park Sunghoon, yes, the sunghoon from enhypen, they are childhood friends and met through figure skating.

Secretly made out with Luca fantilli in a closet at her first college party, obviously before she and Rut started dating.

She loves spending summers at the lake house.

She went viral at jack's draft, she goes viral a lot.

The nhl fans love her, the delulu fans hate her.

Is very close with her parents, she’s a family girl!

She’s a homebody, she likes going out but prefers to hang out at home/dorm or at her friends' homes/dorms.

She is a very talented artist and got a scholarship to umich for her art. She loves all types of art. She likes drawing and painting but has started loving ceramics.

Stella loves the library and I mean lovesss it! If you can’t find Stella, she’s either in her bed or at the library

She loves photography, ever since Quinn bought her a Polaroid camera when she was 13, she has quite the vault of embarrassing pictures of her brothers

Momma's girl? Daddy’s girl? No she’s a Quinn girl

She used to figure skate with a partner, but things went wrong and she's very hesitant to have a new partner

She’s actually really good at hockey and could join a women's team if she wanted to. But she could never, she hates getting hit.

She hates seeing her brothers and friends getting hit, makes her cringe and flinch.

Went viral after her reaction of Jack getting into a fight goes on the big screen.

The camera people are always putting her on the big screen whenever she goes to her brothers and friend's game.

She did get exposed on the big screen taking a sip of Trevor’s beer…Trevor couldn’t stop laughing while her dad gave her a disapproving shake of his head.

Trevor and Jack accidentally got Stella really high for the first time, forgetting to tell her that gummies on Jack's desk are edibles. A freaking out Trevor and Jack trying their best to calm down a panicked Stella, let’s just say the two boys were anxious for Quinn to come back. (I really want to write a thing for this, it would be so funny)

Her and Lily secretly went and got their nipples pierced, Carmen being there to hold their hands.

she loves puzzles

Not really a coffee or tea person

She loves playing board games and video games with her brothers

She’s a sweet person, but isn’t afraid to speak her mind. She’s the youngest of three brothers, she knows how to stick up for herself!

She’s a passenger princess…with everyone!

She knows she’s in trouble if someone calls her Estella

Stella really wants to be a mother

Her trainer is pushing her (nicely) so she can be in the 2026 winter olympics!

Here is a link to more fun facts about her!

She has 3 instagram accounts. @/stellahughes is her main account that everyone follows, @/entersteller is her private account where only her friends and family follow, @/nicohischierluvergurl is her secret private account where only a few of her close friends and Quinn follow.

ꪆ୧ HER CLOTHES AESTHETIC !

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( so this is the introduction/profile of Stella! I really hope you guys like her, I’m really excited to write more of her! I didn’t mention Rutger a lot in this because I will be making them there own profile, super excited to do that! Please don’t be a silent reader, I would love to hear your opinions )

°. - ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the taglist! )

[doitforbangchan]

Ok so question for the abanb series, what are all nicknames for baby from each member? they have to have at least their top of cute nicknames for her from each of them + i’m curious to find out baby’s nicknames for each of them also! btw i hope u r doing great🫶❤️

i am actually so terrible with seeing my messages i am sorry i missed this for so long thank you soooooooo much i hope your also doing wonderful 💜💖

ofc channie coined the name baby for her but he also calls her his love a lot or lover 💕 she calls him channie or sometimes chanifer and love

minho keeps it pretty standard, calling her baby or by her name sometimes when he's teasing or mad. sometimes he will switch it up and call her his little brat. baby calls him min, grumpykins (when hes being a dick), and sometimes to make him flustered she calls him kitty boy. lets not forget he likes to be called sir.. 👀

binnie is partial to the nickname sweetcheeks, he loves to pinch omegas chunky cheeks as he says it, eventually it evolves to different names that have the word sweet- sweetbuns, sweetiepie ect. omega would begin to call him sweetbin in return and it would eventfully evolve to sweet bean then just beanie lol

i think hyunjin would call her lover girl and he would call himself her lover boy and would get them matching shirts that says it because he is extra like that and omega just loves it

omg jisung would give her something ridiculous like snugglebug and would use it exclusively, baby and snugglebug only for his man! in return baby calls him squishy bcuz she loves his chunky cheeks so much, and sometimes jiji

sweet felix calls her his heart, his darling, his love 💖 baby likes to call him lixie, pixie, freckles, and ever since the farmers market she also calls him melonman

we all know seungmin loves to call baby puppy and pup, he just thinks it fits her so well- his obedient little puppy 🐶 he pretends not to be flustered when she calls him bubs or bubo or her personal favorite mongie. he has to hide his blush every time

last but not least innie calls her stinky. in an affectionate way ofc! his little stinky. not because she smells bad but because when shes around the only thing he can smell is her and her delicious scent. if hes extra playful he calls her stink monster. baby in retaliation calls him mcmeany, she did call him mcdreamy due to his sexy cheekbones but after being called stink so many times she changed it to mcmeany. its playful for both of them tho and neither mind it

all the boys primarily use baby or omega to adress her but it is nice to throw in a little variety once in a while. i think these names work for each boy 🥰

[roseamongroses]

with strange tenderness ch: 6/7

Melvika - Timebomb [side] Alternate Universe - Modern Setting /Alternate Universe - Small Town /Artist Mel Medarda/ Muse! Sevika /Court Mandated Found Family/ Sevika Does Not Get Paid Enough (Arcane: League of Legends)/ Retired! Sevika/ Parental Death/ Past Traumatic Events/ Past Violence & Stalking/ Mild Sexual Content/ Dog/Cat Dynamic/ Canon-Typical Exploitation of the Working Class/Mentions of Police Brutality/ Microgression/ no beta we die like Silco/ Vitiligo! Mel/ repeated silco slander/ Hurt/Comfort/ Past Child Abuse/ Past Neglect/ Domestic Fluff

-

[1]/[2][3][4][5]/[6]

ao3

-

1--2--3--4--Candles.

The fires lit up one by one, bursting from that chocolate cake and licking Ekko’s face with their glow. Wide eyed, he looked between the cake and Benzo, shaking in his chair with excitement , “Is it all for me--?” he asked, beaming up at the man.

Benzo placed a heavy hand the young boy’s shoulder, fond, “Of course, kid,” he said, letting out a rumbling laugh, “Now go on and make a wish--”

Ekko shut his eyes tight, taking in a deep breath.

-

Jinx exhaled.

That early morning, winter air—pierced like a knife. Her lungs burned as her sneakers slapped against the cracked and uneven pavement. Heart beating faster and faster.

She hit the corner, skidding to a halt, cheeks flushed. Against her neck, her headphones bumped rhythmically—the beat of drums, a mind-numbing rattling that filled the silence. Dropping her bag, she rummaged through the mess. Random sheets of stickers, scraps of colorful wrapping paper, broken drumsticks, packs of empty gum—shit her meds—before she found the canister.

Violet eyes danced across her canvas—hearing that little ball rattle as she shook the spray paint hard.

-

‘WELCOME TO THE HISTORIC CITY OF YAWN’

Chunky letters were blasted across the front doors of the High School. The colors were a nasty combination of vibrant blues and purples, biting into the muddy brown of those dingy doors.

A few students clustered in front of the doors, whispering and taking pictures of the graffiti. Every-so-often the teacher on Morning-Duty would poke their head out the doors to shoo them off to class, but they always came back after she left.

Ekko brushed past the group, nose down as he doodled in his notebook-- jelly falling on the lined pages as swallowed the last of his donut. He maneuvered his way through the crowded halls, dodging elbows and side-stepping the occasional group of meandering, six-foot tall jocks.

He heard the late-bell ring and he glanced up--then at his schedule.

He walked to his homeroom from last semester.

His class was on the other side of the school.

“Shit-” Ekko mumbled, turning on his heel and rushing to his homeroom. By the time he stepped through the doors, tardy slip in hand, most of the other students had already found their seats.

“Mornin’ rabbit,” Jinx drawled. She was propped up on top of her desk. Her uniform was strategically ripped below the knees, skirt rolled up at the waist, and sleeves decorated with safety pins. Her long braids sprouted wild from underneath her beanie, hanging over her eyes. She was next to the only empty seat left, “You’re late-- again.”

Looks like they were stuck together-- again.

Ekko closed his eyes, internally groaning. He resigned himself to his fate. Dropping his bag down, he slumped into the seat. Forehead to desk, eyes shut tight.

Jinx snickered to herself, paying him no mind as she loudly talked about her weekend with everyone else. She crowded into his space with little care. Braids tickling his arms, legs bumping into the side of the desk every-so-often making it shake, her fingers tapping absentmindedly on his desk to an unheard rhythm.

-

Sixteen years ago, somewhere in East Zaun Hospital, two babies were born seconds apart. And like most kids in Zaun--they grew up together, but they were closer than most.

They had the same birthday and lived in the same apartment building. Their last names listed one after the other on every roll-call, being deskmates every year without fail.

Both had parents who worked in the mine before it shut down. Both had parents. Both entered foster-care around the same time, except Ekko never left Zaun.

One day Powder was there--the next day she wasn’t.

Packed up and gone on some random Tuesday.

He hadn’t even known she’d left until he saw that her name-tag was taken off of the cubby next to his. He didn’t know the exact reasons why at the time, but he wasn’t stupid.

He remembers the flashing lights--blue, red, blue, red-- outside his windows before Benzo guided him back to bed. How Benzo hugged him, a little too tight, before saying goodnight.

It was a small town and he was a nosy kid. He heard the rumors-- Enforcers were killed. He remembers seeing the barriers and check-points on his way to school--more each day. The dark uniforms posted up on the corners, most of them outsourced from Piltover, the hungry pigs sniffing for blood.

Sleepy, small town Zaun wasn’t known for much. Its profitability burned up quickly, leaving its residents in the dust. But the year Powder disappeared was the year Zaun became known for something else entirely.

Zaun.

The Birthplace of Shimmer.

It was originally an old recipe miners used in place of expensive, traditional medicine to fight the aches, the pains, and all things rotten. But the recipe changed. Many hands passing over it until it became so potent even the rich and able-bodied wanted a piece.

Silco’s Shimmer operation outgrew the town quickly.

He wasn’t wealthy. He was wealth personified.

Most people in Zaun could make the original recipe themselves with a little elbow grease, spare change, and a healthy disregard for the legal system. So Silco’s operation expanded--other cities, overseas, until the man was shaking hands with wallets fatter than the oceans were wide.

Zaun had a love-hate relationship with the man.

Mostly hate.

Silco’s teeth were as bloody as any Enforcer, but he never shied away from his roots. He maintained his properties in Zaun, paid his taxes, and casted his ballots. His hands dipping into the pockets of the indifferent city council members. That blood money kept the town afloat in more ways than one. He didn’t make the town that much better, but it didn’t get worse.

So when the ax finally fell, no one knew what to expect.

Ekko definitely didn’t expect her.

Heavy boots, a too big uniform, and a shiny new name.Those big violet eyes, seething from behind her bangs. A snarl on her lips as she sat down in the seat next to his own, kicking up her feet--like nothing ever changed.

And yet--everything was different.

-

You could always hear her coming.

From her loud-ass voice, to her even louder boots, but mostly you could hear the whispers that followed.

“Did you hear how she-”

“Last week she-”

“Why is she-”

“Damn, it's -”

Jinx stopped in front of him. Her braids swayed as she constantly shifted her weight from either leg. She was always in motion, a pendulum swinging and swinging until you had no choice but to follow.

Ekko sighed, “What?” he asked, eyes fixed on his presentation notes. It was bad enough he had to deal with her in every class, why was she still here after-school. An unnatural silence followed the question, pulling his attention away. He twirled the pen in his hand as he studied her face, how her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, mouth pinched, “You good?”

Jinx’s nose twitched, snapping out of it, “Never better--” then she tacked on, quick, “This is the Robotics Team interest meeting, right..?”

“...Yes,” Ekko said slowly, then he realized.

Did she actually want to…join?

Then again, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Jinx was always good with her hands. They were always making shit when they were younger. Cobbling together dolls made of wire-hanger and old dresses, breaking apart and putting together anything they could get their hands on.

Imagination was a necessity to combat boredom. Most toys were far too expensive and most days were spent at home waiting for the adults to get back from work. The habit stuck with Ekko as he got older. It must have stuck with her too.

Ekko’s eyes dropped back to his notes, “I’ll start the meeting in a few minutes, pull up a chair--” he said, pen pointing idly off to the side.

“Cool,” Jinx said, smiling a bit as she passed.

- She was so… -

“1-2-1-2-3-4-” Ekko barked out, drumsticks moving with ease.

Steady wood shaped into the palm of his hands like a second skin. The steady snap of drums washing over his senses, mind focused entirely on the task at hand.

His eyes moved across the sheet music, but he didn’t need it. The repetitions were natural at this point, as easy as breathing. It was more so for the rest of the drumline's benefit. Apparently it was easier for them to make corrections if he knew the exact place in the notation.

He listened carefully, eyes drifting down that long line of snares. So far no fuck ups--

Ekko’s eyebrow twitched.

And for a second, he thought he misheard. It was so subtle anyone could have overlooked it, but--

It happened again.

He frowned, holding up a hand to cut them off.

Tucking his drumsticks away, he walked down that line studying the nervous faces carefully, before he sighed, “Everyone split into groups of two and review the piece--starting at measure 53, ” he said, noting the visible relief on their faces, “We’ll go over it again at the end of the hour.”

The group dispersed, a hush of whispers as everyone started to break down their setups and begin moving into the practice rooms.

Ekko looked up briefly, muttering to himself, before he called out, “Jinx, you’re with me.”

Jinx’s eyes crinkled as she sent him a cheeky, two finger salute.

Once everyone had filed out and her drum-sticks were readied, Ekko nodded at her, counting off again.

Jinx played like how she talked, how she walked, how she lived.

Loud--and with a careless, hyper-competency that would piss off anyone.

She didn’t bother glancing down at the notation, she wasn’t looking at anything at all. Her eyes closed, a blissful, yet mean look on her face as she rode the beat. Hands a blur, the drumsticks melting into her skin, the drums, and the beat. An untethered motion that never hesitated, not even for a second.

Ekko couldn’t help but lose himself in it all.

The motion, the rhythms, her-

There it was again.

“--Jinx? Jinx? Stop--” Ekko cut her off.

Jinx’s hands jerked to a stop, drumsticks going limp in her hands,“What-?” she bit out, annoyed.

“You’re playing it wrong,” Ekko said, paying the attitude no mind,

Jinx squinted at him, chin raising, defiant, “I’m playing it better.”

Ekko’s eyes narrowed, “You’re doing it on purpose?”

“Well-duh, “ Jinx scoffed, twirling a drumstick in her hand, “I don’t make mistakes.”

Which, infuriatingly enough--she wasn’t wrong.

“Play it how it's written,” Ekko said, pinching his nose, “It’s an ensemble, not a solo.”

Jinx rolled her eyes, blowing her bangs out of her face, “Does having a stick up your ass make you play better?” she said, pleasantly.

“Better than you, yes.”

“Is that a bet?” Jinx asked, readying her drumsticks.

“It’s a promise,” Ekko said, raising his own lips twitching at the challenge.

- Annoying. -

Jinx didn’t expect much from this shithole.

That old man was far too fucking sentimental thinking coming back to Zaun would do her any good. It had already killed the few good bits she had left.

So she definitely didn’t expect him.

He wasn’t with Benzo anymore, but the unlucky bastard was placed in one of the few group homes in the area.

Ekko was still alive and kicking-- unchanged-- like a ghost.

-

Old ass, raggedy ass-- pig-bitch.

“Heh,” Jinx chuckled under her breath, mouth sneering as she glared up at the teacher standing over her. She was a shiny, new lady shipped fresh from Piltover. She introduced herself by detailing her lengthy career working at Stillwater Prison while dropping stacks of papers on each desk.

At first, Jinx thought it was a bit--it was not.

Ms. Piggy’s eyes narrowed cooly at the teenager, manicured nails tapping against the desk, “There’s nothing to laugh about, go ahead and read the passage or else you can take another trip to the office.”

Jinx inhaled--then exhaled, eyes darting to the other students around her, nails biting into her wrist, “I’m not reading out loud,” she gritted out, narrowing her eyes right back.

“And why not?” Ms. Piggy loftily asked.

“I…” Jinx looked down, then around, huffing, “I don’t want to s--” she bit out.

“Well, we don’t always get what we want--”

“Is that why your face looks like a--” Jinx stopped, feeling a steady hand on her shoulder.

“Excuse me, Ma’am-” Ekko interrupted, with a strained, but polite smile, “I can read the next passage. Maybe she just needs a sec-”

“I’m not talking to you, boy, ” Ms. Piggy snapped out, “Interrupt again and I’ll send you to the office too.”

Ekko’s smile faltered, eyes chilly, narrowing.

And yet, he closed his mouth, resigned.

A deathly silence followed, students watching, waiting, and-

That ever-dwindling fuse burned to its end.

Jinx abruptly stood, hands slamming on the desk and sending the papers flying. Ms. Piggy stepped back, startled. Jinx was close behind, “Yeah--Cunt-For-Brains,” she spat, jabbing a finger in her face, “You’re talking to me-- I told you I’m not fuckin’ doing it,”

“This behavior will not be--”

“Me-mem-eme-memem,” Jinx mocked, rolling her eyes.

“The office, Miss Pickett,” Ms. Piggy said, tersely. Face red, she somehow collected herself enough to get a word in, “Go or should I call your parents and--”

“Blah-blah-blah--” Jinx mimed with her hands. She strolled past her, waving a crooked finger behind, “Go ahead and call them, bitch--”

The classroom door slammed behind her as she left. She stopped at the office, pushing through the doors and flinging herself into one of the uncomfortable-ass chairs.

The secretary barely glanced up from her computer before reaching for the phone, resigned. She didn’t even bother to hand out the incident report paper-work,

A nap and some bells--later finally came.

Ms. Piggy stepped through the office doors, looking smug.

Sevika ducked into the office after her, weary. Before she followed the teacher into one of the conference rooms, she stopped in front of Jinx, raising an eyebrow, “What happened?”

“She’s a bitch.”

“...Anything else?”

Jinx looked off to the side, frowning, “...Public speaking and reading.”

Sevika’s eyes narrowed, “Did she provide an alternative assignment?”

“No.”

Sevika didn’t need to hear anything else. She disappeared into the conference room.

Jinx picked at the threads in her coat, humming as she waited. A door opened, a familiar set of boots--worn and paint splattered -- stopped in front of her. She looked up, a little confused, “...Don’t you have a bus to catch, rabbit?”

“I--” Ekko adjusted the straps of his bookbag, “Are you…good? That lady is a--- lot sometimes.”

Curious and curiouser.

“You're worried about me,” Jinx observed with an odd look, “She was ruder to you, honestly. Should’ve chewed her ass out.”

“That…” Ekko frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets, visibly uncomfortable, “Isn’t that overreacting? It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“People only react to overactions,” Jinx said with a shrug, “Otherwise they let any-shit fly.”

“I…can’t really afford to overreact right now,” Ekko admitted, eyebrows furrowing.

Jinx paused, considering his words for a moment, then, “I can do it then.”

“What?”

“If you can’t, I can,” Jinx repeated, like that made any fucking sense, “Call me up and I’ll do it. I don’t give a fuck--I can bite, cuss, fight--”

“No,” Ekko said, shaking his head, fighting back a laugh, “Absolutely not.”

Jinx frowned, crossing her arms as she slumped back, “You’re no fun.”

Ekko sighed, a little helpless, “You’re so--”

The door to the conference room opened.

Ms. Piggy rushed out, face looking snotty and wet.

The two teens craned their necks, eyes wide, mouths gaping a bit.

“Damn--” Ekko muttered.

“Is she crying--?” Jinx asked, a little giddy. She looked up as Sevika stepped out the room, “Did you make her cry? Wha’did you do?”

Sevika looked down, expression unmoved as Jinx peppered her with questions, “We talked” she vaguely said, rolling her shoulder out as she walked past, “You’re still getting detention for profanity, but the alternative assignment is due by Monday,” she added on as an afterthought.

Jinxed waved her off, “Boo--tell me. C’mon lefty, don’t hold out on me--” she hopped on her feet, snatching her bag up as she followed them, “Can I drive us home today?”

“Hell-fuckin’ no,” Sevika said, turning her head. Her eyes landed on Ekko standing awkwardly behind them, “Do you need a ride, kid?”

“Uh-” Ekko glanced down at his beat-up watch before scratching the back of his neck, “Maybe.”

Jinx beamed, doubling back to snatch his arm and drag him along before he could second guess himself, chatting as she went, “Hey, Granny--can we get ice cream? We should get ice-cream. I didn’t even bite the bitch-”

- And yet, he now was so… -

“Two cones with two scoops of mint-chocolate chip and--”

Isha thumped on the glass excitedly, face pressed against it, eyes wide.

Jinx nodded in agreement, “-- a scoop of blue-raspberry sorbet on top--with rainbow sprinkles, please,” she finished all in one, long breath.

Ekko stared at them, disgusted, as he spooned up his own ice cream--plain chocolate.

Sevika didn’t bat an eye, pulling Isha away from the glass, “Add a pint of mango sorbet,” she said curtly to the employee.

The employee nodded, busying themselves with putting together the rest of the order. Once done, they handed the cones over to the girls and slid the bag with the pint across the counter.

“You don’t even like sorbet, though?” Jinx said, shoving ice cream down in her face.

“Mind your business, “ Sevika said, pulling out a wad of cash from her wallet. She thumbed through the stack before sliding a chunk of it across the counter. Then she handed a five to Isha and a twenty to Jinx.

“Business minded, “ Jinx chirped, tucking the cash away in her boot. She continued noisly licking at her ice cream, turning to Ekko, "You want some?” she asked.

“Ugh-no,” Ekko said, pulling a face.

“C’mon try it--try it” Jinx goaded, waving the cone around like a knife, ice cream dripping with each swing.

Ekko pointedly dodged her attempts to end his life--getting chased around the store with increasing fevour. Every left--every right--she wasn’t far behind. Jinx didn’t let up-- Isha on her heel, hyping her up as she cornered him in the chip aisle.

Ekko feigned right, before breaking free, skidding out the door towards the truck, heavy boots and cackling not far behind him.

- Boring. -

“Are we there yet?” Jinx asked for the fifty-billonth time. She sat in her seat, cross-legged-- mime punching into Ekko’s open palms.

The entire robotics team was crammed into the back of the van, rattingly about like spare change as it climbed those hilly, pot-hole peppered roads.

“Shut the fuck up before I crash the van,” Sherry gritted out, hands gripping the wheel tight. She was lovingly referred to as Mr. Clean, for obvious reasons. A scrawny little thing, her face pierced to hell-and-back with rainbow jewelry and always sporting that ratty Sumprats jersey.

Mili, her girlfriend, was curled up in the front seat. She giggled as she smoked out the window, dyed and fried sisterlocs flying wild in the air.

Jinx patted Ekko’s palms repeatedly, like tapping a drum. She tilted her head, “On purpose or on accident?”

“Keep yapping and you’ll find out--”

The rest of the group groaned as Sherry turned a sharp corner, bracing themselves as she finally went off road.

Terrell--Bug face, hit the front seats, glasses falling to the ground.

Beebee and Junebug--creepy-ass cousins, surprisingly not twins--gripped their seatbelts tightly. One muttering in Klingon while the other recited a Catholic prayer.

Jinx yelped as she slid out her seat. Ekko caught her around the shoulders, pulling her back up and holding her steady. Before she could protest, he reached around her, clicking her seatbelt back on.

“Aw, you do love me-” Jinx teased, fingers now using his shoulders as her new drum pads.

Ekko rolled his eyes, looking out the window without another word.

By the time the van skidded to a halt, the sun was long gone. They all tumbled out into the cold, pulling their coats around them a little tighter as they huddled together, trekking up that winding path of trees and wire fences--and more wire fences.

Mili began passing out beers--skipping over Jinx. Ekko declined. Seeing this, Jinx pulled out two of her own bottles from her bag, handing one to him.

“What's this?” Ekko said, squinting at the label.

“It's non-alcoholic,” Jinx promised, a strange glint in her eye as she cracked open her bottle and sipped it evenly. Seeing him hesitate, she added, “I can’t drink on my meds.”

Ekko scrutinized the bottle for a moment, mumbling, “Fuck it-” before he cracked it open, taking a sip and--he spat into the snow, groaning, “What the fuck Jinx?”

Jinx cackled, that devil liquid splashing everywhere as she clutched her stomach.

Wiping his mouth, Ekko slowly approached her, “I’m going to dump snow on you“ he explained, words short, methodical even, “And then I will laugh. And do it again.”

Jinx paid him no mind at first, hiccuping at this point--before the threat finally registered.

“Shit-” Jinx yelped, stumbling to the ground and dodging the obscenely large clump of snow thrown her way. It wasn’t even a snow-ball, it was more like he had scooped up as much as he could and flung it in her direction, “Shit-shit-shit-shit--Ekko it's cold--” she whined, gloved hands digging into the snow and half-heartedly flinging it as she sprinted away--his footsteps close behind.

Up the hill and through the crumbling fences, they chased each other up that snowy path, squeals and laughter echoing in the forest as the rest of the group joined the chase.

Jinx inhaled that crisp winter air--lungs on fire, braids fluttering behind her, before she stumbled to a halt.

There--where the sky met the plunging earth. Where the glass bottles shake and that old chain-fence rattled. There-- the stars, the lights, and the grime--those unlikely worlds came together.

Ekko exhaled, clutching his knees, relieved to finally get a chance to catch his breath.

“What...” Jinx’s eyes darted around the area, frantic, “Wait what happened? Where’s the tree?” she asked, thin voice easily caught in the wind.

“Oh….” Ekko’s brow furrowed, a little gutted at the remainder. He’d forgotten there used to be a tree here, “Some rich-fuck from Piltover tore it down awhile back,” he explained, “We can still make wishes here though…”

“I…wanted to climb it with you again,” Jinx admitted, hugging herself tight.

Again-- Chubby cheeks, bandaged knees, and sun-kissed faces. Scrambling up the sprawling branches of that old tree, hiding in the leaves from Mylo after they swiped his shoes. They knew the older boy would never find them because he was afraid of heights and they weren’t.

They weren’t afraid of much back then.

Some things do change.

Jinx looked lost. Growing quiet all at once, a pensive look on her face.

Ekko shifted nervously, looking between her face and the fence. He reached out, grasping her arm, tugging her gently to follow, “C’mon--”

“What?” Jinx stumbled behind, a little annoyed.

Ekko led her to the fence, letting go. His fingers hooked onto the fence, shaking it experimentally, “We can still climb the fence.”

“Why would we climb a stupid-fuckin’ fence?”

Ekko glanced back, giving the fence another shake, “If your too chicken-shit to do it, just say so--”

Jinx threw herself up the fence, flipping him off as she climbed. Boots slipping, wire shaking as he followed close behind.

Sneering faces, gangly legs, and frost-kissed faces. They reached the top in no time, breathing heavily as they tried to catch their breath.

Jinx hefted herself up and over--swinging her legs around to the otherside, balancing herself at the top of the world.

Ekko hooked his arms around the top of the fence, feet lodged into the mesh to keep balance. Mulling it over, he raised the bottle to his mouth, hesitating, before he took another sip. He gagged, trying it again, “This shit sucks ass--” he muttered.

Jinx emptied the last drops of hers on her tongue, letting out a burp--white air puffing from her lips.

“Gross.”

Jinx burped again for good measure, fanning it his way. The bottle hung loosely from her fingertips, fence swaying as she kicked her feet, “You know what really sucks ass--”

“Life?” Ekko guessed.

“--Life,” Jinx echoed, nodding her head sagely.

“When’s… Vi leaving?”

“Soon,” Jinx said, yawning as she rubbed her eyes, “She’s apartment hunting all the time--texting me details and shit, asking for my opinions. Y’know, because she hates me and wants to rub it in my face. ”

“...She doesn’t hate you,” Ekko said, automatically, sipping his bottle. All too familiar with this song and dance.

“....I know,” Jinx huffed, glaring at the sky.

“Y’know what doesn’t suck ass?” Ekko wondered out loud.

Jinx sent him a look.

“Really? Nothing?”

Jinx raised her eyebrow.

“...The competition? Remember? The whole reason we came up here-? Make a wish? Kick ass?”

“Ohh, right, right, “ Jinx nodded, “The nerd shit.”

“Our nerd shit,” Ekko corrected, raising his bottle.

Jinx snickered, clicking the bottles together, “Our nerd shit.” she agreed. Her swinging feet slowed, head lolling from side-to-side instead as she set her sights on that horizon. Eyes sweeping from the distant Zaun lights, from the stars, to somewhere else entirely. Forever in motion, her brain rattled so much it made her teeth shake and body ache from the pressure.

“Hey, Ekko?”

“Huh?”

“Y’know what I wish for?” Jinx asked, fighting back her giggles.

“Do I… wanna know?”

Jinx raised her free arm, finger gun pointing far past those rolling hills, to the unseen, gleaming, Piltover city-lights. Distantly she heard the rest of the group finally make their way up the path, the short, even breaths of the teenager next to her, and her own beating heart, beating faster and faster.

Eyes squinting--narrowing in on her target, then her hand jerked back as she mimed an explosion with her mouth. Cold air poured from her lips as she threw back her head and let out a wicked laugh.

-

“It's not funny,” Mel grumbled, holding the garish, red-black uniform up to her body as she squinted into the mirror. Her laptop was propped up on her vanity, her brother wheezing on the video call. The screen froze every-so often on his big-mouth.

“It's so…ugly,” Mel complained, with a thinly veiled sneer, “She clearly hates me.”

“She doesn’t--” Kino hit the table repeatedly, gasping for breath, “She doesn’t hate you--” he coughed out, shoulders shaking, words of comfort utterly unconvincing.

“It has a tie-- Kino--an ugly tie,” Mel drawled, throwing the blazer on her bed before picking up the skirt and holding it up to her waist with a scrutinizing look, “A tie so ugly and so big it makes me look like a Christmas tree set ablaze.”

“Okay, my ugly little shrub--” Kino says fondly, wiping his eyes, “Did you finish your stone yet?”

Mel stepped into the skirt, tugging it over her pajama pants, frowning a bit, “I need to get these tailored,” she mutters to herself, rolling up the waist a bit, turning in the mirror to get a better look at her a--

“The rock Mel. Melly? Melly belly? The stone--The stone--?

“Right--” Mel blinked out of her thoughts. She reached towards the vanity, picking up a palm-sized stone. It was white, smooth, and decorated with vibrant, overlapping flames, like fluttering sails. She presented it to the camera with a flourish.

Kino beamed, showing off his stone as well. The little blue hearts, painstaking etched into its curves, a dotting spiral that curled around two, small cursive initials that read--‘K+V’-- “What are you going to wish for?”

“What I always do,” Mel scoffed as she tucked her rock inside a vase of roses.

-

“--Sevika,” Mel whined, hugging her pillow tight. A calloused hand wrapped around her ankle completely, holding her firmly for a moment before slowly pulling her from under the covers, “Go away--”

“Not until I see your face,” Sevika insisted. If Mel was willing to speak, it was clearly a good time to intervene. They adjusted their hold, hand now latching onto her calf. Their prosthetic hand pushed back the blankets, searching, “It's been a week.”

“It's only been a week. I’ve eaten--I’ve walked Shug so I’m fine--”, Mel yelped, body sliding across the mattress into open air. She looked up, dazed, as the bed creaked. Sevika crawled on top, arms bracketing either side of her head, legs pinning her body with their weight.

“Happy now?” Mel grumbled, feeling a bit self-conscious.

Ashy. Arms uselessly flung across the mattress, locs falling out of a half-assed bun, her bonnet lost in the covers. Her body was swimming in that shirt she never managed to give back to them.

It wasn’t something Sevika got to see often. Mel’s self proclaimed ‘moods’ were often neatly tucked away behind a locked door. It was usually Mel who gave them a heads up--rescheduling, apologizing, the works-- but this time was different.

That morning, Sevika woke up to a text from Lest. She asked them to check on Mel.

Sevika baited Mel with sorbet to get the bedroom door open-- it worked.

Sevika got her fill, eyes raking across Mel’s face--then body. She leaned in close, nosing at the delicate arch of her collar bone.

Then she sniffed.

“You stink,” Sevika said.

“Fuck you--” Mel groaned into her hands, mortified, as she kicked her away.

Sevika had reared back, catching both legs easily, “Not until New years,” she reminded with a crooked smile.

That got a giggle out of Mel--flustered at the thought. She lost focus enough that Sevika could close the distance again, scooping her up and tossing her over her shoulder.

Mel squirmed in her hold, quickly giving up once she realized they wouldn’t budge, “You’re a brute and a bully--” she said, hotly. She glared at the woman’s back, locs swinging as she was carried off upside down. At their feet, Shug popped up from her dog-bed, scampering to follow them. Cute, but no help seeing as she was being actively kidnapped

Sevika patted her ass, unphased, “You’re into it.”

Mel neither confirmed nor denied this.

-

Suds frothing, a bubbling, scalding heat.

Mel scrubbed her body raw, Sevika's dark eyes watching her every-so-often as they rummaged through her bathroom cabinets and picked out various different bottles and creams.

-

“Se--”

-

Mel gasped into the pillows, clawing at the linens.

A strong hand kneaded her body. The curve of her shoulders, the dip of her spine, the swell of her hips and between the meat of her thighs--methodically rubbing sweet oils and butters into her skin.

That hand--it worked. It worked into her hard, coaxing those tense muscles and unraveling her with a punishing persistence. That gruff voice--sweet in her ear--coaxing her through it all.

-

“-vi-”

-

“-ka,” Mel sighed, watching as they finished folding her laundry, setting the basket down beside the bed. She sucked the mango sorbet off her spoon, “You can go home if you need to--I’m fine…”

A thumb smoothed over her forehead, before a hand cupped her face. Sevika leaned down and kissed her on the nose lightly, “Are you kicking me out?” she asked, thumb stroking her cheek.

“...No,” Mel said, melting into the touch.

“Then I’m staying,” Sevika said, kissing between her wrinkled brows.

“You don’t need to…”

Sevika pressed their foreheads together, noses brushing, breaths intertwined.

“I know you’re tired…”

Sevika didn’t say anything, dark eyes unbearably tender, hands cradling her face like she was something precious--

“I-I know you need to…” Mel choked up, squeezing her eyes tight, “You can--”

Sevika caught her as she fell forward and let out a muffled sob into their shoulder.

-

The hushed whispers in the living-room died down as the front door opened, boots heavy.

The teenagers scrambled, tucking away their papers and hiding their bottles right as Sevika stepped through the door. Looking very casual, normal even. Mili was already knocked out, curled up under the coffee table. Sherry scrolled away at her phone--which had died an hour ago. Bug-eye, looked significantly less bug-eyed. And--well the not-twins were a lost cause, but they had the decency to at least turn on the T.V.

Jinx didn’t bother to move, hanging upside down on the couch, braids tumbling over Ekko’s shoulders, “You’re back early,” she says, gum popping loudly, “Did she kick you out again?”

“Mind your business,” Sevika said, shrugging off her coat, casting a skeptical glance over the room.

Before Jinx could request her shut-up fee, a honey-coated pitbull darted past Sevika towards the couch.

Jinx pepped up, falling to the ground, “Puppy-!” she excitedly beckoned the dog closer.

Ekko groaned, bony elbows digging into him. He tried to shove her off, “Dude, what the fu--” his expression softened, words lost all at once.

Flushed cheeks, upturned violet eyes, raspy voice cooing as she fussed over the pitbull.

The…dog was kinda-cute.

Shug--ever the diva-- drank up the attention eagerly as the other teenagers crowded around. The teens were so distracted, they didn’t notice the woman tucked at Sevika’s side, her footsteps quiet as they disappeared down the hall.

-

Majesty purred, paws kneading into the quilt as she settled into the bed, her little face pushing into Mel’s side. Mel hummed, stroking their fur gently, pleased to have finally won her over.

Cozied up and dozing off, she woke up at the sound of footsteps.

Sevika stepped back into the bedroom,“Isha had a nightmare,” she said, looking weary. The door clicked behind her, “She’s sleeping now--this always happens when she watches The Grinch,” she reassured, seeing her concern.

“She’s afraid of The Grinch?”

Sevika yanked off her shirt then bra, reaching for her belt, “No, the Whos,” she explained with a grave seriousness, “She says they look like hairless rats.”

“That’s…” Mel frowned a bit, brow scrunching, “She’s not wrong.”

“She’s not,” Sevika agreed--dropping her pants around her ankles and stepping out of them. She bent down, collecting the clothes and tossing them in the laundry bin

Mel briefly forgot herself, she always did when it came to them. She couldn’t help but indulge in the sight like it was the first time. Then she remembered what she had decided to ask, “...Sevika?” she called out, fingers itching to reach out and touch.

“Hm?”

Mel hesitated.

Sevika let her take her time. Straps unraveled--a heavy thump of her prosthetic arm being set aside. The bed creaked, a weight nestling into Mel’s other side, breath warm against the nape of her neck as an arm draped across her stomach, pulling her close.

“I need to run some errands out of town, ” Mel quietly admits, biting her lip, “I’ve been putting them off for awhile and Elora can’t go with me anymore. Is it possible if…”

“When?”

Mel exhaled, heart easing a bit, “Any day can work for me, it's mostly paperwork for my exhibition, but…There is a youth science competition in Piltover I’ve invested in--they’ve requested I attend. I made the arrangements and I was…working towards it with my therapist, but the event lasts several days so I don’t expect you to commit to that much.”

Sevika’s fingers drummed against her stomach, contemplative, before she asked, “Is it the Young Innovators Competition?”

“...You’ve heard of it?”

-

Past the rolling hills, where the sun touched gleaming sky-scrapers, the countryside was devoured by that bustling city--Piltover. That ratty, rental van squeezed between the endless stream of shiny cars--decidedly late.

If there was hell—this was it.

Sevika’s fingers itched for a blunt, instead she turned up the radio. She hoped that’d be enough to tune out whatever mess was going on in the back. She was volentold by the rest of the parents to drive the group here since she’d been dodging chaperone duty the whole year.

She’d thought there’d be more of an issue about Mel coming along, but a few calls and a background check and she was cleared. They were more than a little grateful for her presence--she always hated these trips. Dealing with other parent’s teenagers and their handsy Moms--ugh.

Before they reached the bridge, Sevika pulled over at a gas station. The teens and Isha filed out to do fuck-all.

Mel leaned across the aisle, kissing her cheek, “We’re almost there,” she reassured.

“That’s not much better,” Sevika said, eyes falling on those gleaming towers. At Mel’s confused look, she sighed, “A lot of miners from Zaun died on that bridge protesting. They blocked executives from leaving a conference and…” she sucked in her teeth, words failing for a moment, “I knew some of them--all of them, actually.”

Sevika wasn’t in Zaun at the time. She was long gone, a nose full of copper and tasting asphalt on the daily dealing with turf disputes. She never planned on returning---until she heard the news.

A bitter rain--the smell of smoke. Those little fires burned for weeks, lighting up each night. A quiet house that was too big for her to keep and an even quieter funeral. Some didn’t get headstones--others didn’t even get graves. Bodies far too gone to even recognize.

And when they finally wrapped up their affairs she hoped to never have to return again.

“It's funny…” Sevika says, fingers drumming against the wheel, eyes lost, “My old man was chasing the bottle his whole life, but it was the butt of a ugly-lookin’ gun that got him in the end.”

He was always a cynic, yet he was there. That protest—the one, unselfish thing he did-- was what finally shut him up for good.

It’s so fucking stupid.

Mel reached across the aisle, finding their hand and squeezing her tight, those bright eyes searching, soothing.

Sevika always wondered what she saw.

-

Approaching the bridge, the van was quiet.

Those big eyes lost-- seething as they all came to the same realization.

The murals, the candles, the flowers, the bottles, the bears--everything, gone.

The memorial--only a sliver of land nestled between the road and the start of the bridge--got cleared out. It was wiped pristine, white, and shiny.

Now a billboard stood in its place.

Some things do change.

-

‘WELCOME TO PILTOVER’ - ‘THE CITY OF PROGRESS’

-

“I’m not wearing that—” Sevika said, scowling at that little strip of shiny fabric hanging with her blazer, circling it like it was a snake.

Mel leaned into the mirror, eyeing them as she put in her other gold earring, “It's Black-Tie attire,“ she said, emphasising each word like that means shit, “They won’t let you in if you don’t fit the dress code. You’re wearing the tie.”

Sevika snorted, “Like hell I am—“

Mel’s eyes narrowed, turning around slowly, lips sharply drawn together. In a few quick strides, pony-tail swinging with each step, she planted herself in front of them,“You're wearing the tie.”

Sevika took a step forward, eyes narrowing right back.

Mel raised her chin, not budging an inch.

Sevika nostrils flared, but mirth was plain on her lips as she looked them over.

An open, sheer robe that fell a little past her thighs. Dark lingerie, dark brown nipples peeking through the lace, dark tights doing little to cover her shapely legs. Eyebrows furrowed, face done up, glowing. Fluttering lashes, makeup meticulously blended. Lips pursed, stained, and shiny with gloss.

“You gon’ make me?” Sevika said, but her look was asking something else entirely.

Mel raised an eyebrow. Stepping out of her irritation, she assessed the situation as well.

Broad shoulders, well tailored pants, and equally lovely thighs to match. The faint shadow of their nipple piercings under her tank top. That glimmer in their eye as they took another step forward-- stepping between her legs.

“Well?”

Mel smiled, squinting as she leaned in close— a breadth away from Sevika’s lips.

Sevika’s eyes darted down, hoping to catch that shine with her teeth, but--- a firm hand pushed a silk tie into her stomach, catching her off guard

“Wear the tie,” Mel said, voice low, soft— that deceptive sweetness lingering as her hand slid down Sevika’s abdomen, nails trailing behind, “We can use it later.” she promised

Not elaborating further, Mel turned on her heel, returning to the vanity in the blink of an eye.

Sevika put on the tie.

-

If Sevika had anything to say about it--later won’t be too long from now.

Mel was pressed against the vanity, a strong body pinning her in place with little effort. She squirmed, robe slipping as Sevika mouthed at her neck, hungry.

“Se-” Mel half-heartedly protested. She lost herself in the sensation--embarrassment fluttering in her chest every time she looked up, catching sight of herself in that mirror already looking utterly wrecked.

A rough hand slipped under her bra--

“-vika-- we have to finish--”

--easily covering her breast and squeezing, teasing her relentlessly.

“You want me to stop?” Sevika murmured into her skin, kisses peppering down her throat.

“...No,” Mel admitted with a whine, hips pressing back a little desperate.

Sevika chuckled, the sound going straight between Mel's thighs as she--

Mel’s phone rang.

A French lullaby--not one Sevika recognized.

Mel patted Sevika’s hand. They stepped away, letting her reach for it.

“It's Jinx, “ Mel explained, pressing the phone to her ear, stepping away as she listened to the other end. Once she was done quietly talking on the phone, she sat it down with a sigh, “She needs help with her makeup. I told her I’ll be there in a few.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow, “Does she call you often?”

“Only from time to time,” Mel said, picking up and stepping into Sevika’s discarded sweatpants. She pulled the strings taunt around her waist, tying them in a bow, before searching for a shirt, “Usually she’s checking on you. Apparently calling you is like talking through a toilet--” she snatched Sevika’s sweatshirt from the bed, pulling it over her head, careful to avoid her face, “Do you need a new phone?”

“No,” Sevika said, already guessing where this was headed.

“You still need to tell me what you want for Christmas,” Mel complained, mulling over the mask before setting it aside, “You promised you’d think about it.”

Sevika sat back on the bed, reaching for the remote. She entertained the thought for a second, before quickly deciding, “I want what you want for New Years.”

Silence then--

“You…you already get to--”

“I know what I like.”

“...Shut up,” Mel mumbled, fighting back a grin as she grabbed the key card before ducking through the doors connecting the hotel rooms.

-

The Young Innovator’s Competition was bright--cheery, a gleaming spectacle of minds gushing over each other’s creations across generations. Kids of all ages gathering at each stall lining the banquet hall while others rushed to grab a seat before the awards were presented.

Mel leaned against the railing of her private balcony, observing the hall. A brief reprieve from the private meetings, paperwork, and one too many hands to shake.

Mel pulled up her mask, seeing a sight that left her terribly nostalgic.

-

Tucked away in some odd corner, Ekko grumbled to himself, doodling on a napkin--not noticing the click of heels getting closer.

“Are you hiding?” Mel asked, head tilting just so--as if the answer wasn’t obvious. Sevika wasn’t that far behind, a sleeping Isha thrown over her shoulder.

Ekko tensed, raising his eyes, annoyed, “No ma’am, I’m not.” he lied, tucking the napkin under his sleeve, pen twirling in hand.

Sevika’s partner was as glossy as the Piltover skyline. Even behind that mask, you couldn’t hide the shine, the refined speech, and the ease she moved with about the room. You could tell she was in her element--and that element sucked ass.

Gold halls, marbled floors, food spilling from every table—that no one fucking touched. So-called-investors either ignored him or talked at him-- like a fucking dog they could bribe into doing tricks.

It was pissing him off.

Mel raised an eyebrow, eyes subtly glancing at the napkin, “This is the only networking event before the awards, are you sure you want to waste the opportunity?”

“Not everyone wants to shuck and jive for cash—“ Ekko muttered, before shutting his mouth abruptly, looking a bit guilty.

Mel let out a quiet laugh, “I suppose not…” she said, folding her arms, pony-tail tossing to the side, “But, investors aren’t the only people here,” she pointed out, eyes straying past him.

Ekko followed her gaze.

Jinx.

She was eagerly chatting with a group of people around their age, shoveling food down her mouth without a care in the world. A little further, he could see the rest of his team--all talking with the other teams.

Thinking about it--Zaun was rather… small.

They didn’t get a chance to talk about their work outside of their club.

It looked—

“You should go have fun,” Mel gently suggested, “When things get hard you’ll need connections that’ll stick around…There’s nothing investors love more then a lone genius.”

-

It was that stupid test fault.

Mel crawled underneath her Mother’s desk, sniffling as she buried her face into her knees.

“Mel--?--Melly?” Her Mother called out, heavy footsteps passing by, echoing down the halls.

Mel balled up tighter, covering her ears.

She hates her--she hates her--she hates her--

She froze hearing footsteps, much lighter enter the room. She covered her mouth, eyes screwed tight--waiting.

“Melly?” Kino crouched down, pushing back the office-chair.

Mel cracked open one misty eye, “How’d you find me--” she complained, glaring hard.

Kino got on the floor, crawling under the desk with her, cramming into the tight space with his big-ol knobby knees, “You always come here,” he said, arms folding around the previously mentioned, big-ol knobby knees.

“No I don’t,” Mel muttered, sniffling.

“Sure you don’t,” Kino easily agreed, not making any moves to leave.

“...Why does Mama hate me?” Mel eventually asked, voice small.

“Mel…” Kino’s eyes softened, “She doesn’t hate you she just--”

Mel scowled, “Then why is she sending me away?” she snapped, “You get to stay here for school. It’s not fair. ”

Kino sighed, raising a hand to rub her forehead, “I’m not half as smart as you--” he said, with a thoughtful look, “She thinks I'm better suited to the…family business. She wants something different for you.”

“...That's stupid.”

“Maybe it is,” Kino mumbled with a furrowed brow before pepping up again, “You wanna do something cool? It’ll make you feel better--promise. ”

-

And in the quieter parts of their evening—when they were filled with food, wine, and far more lighter memories--they retired to the hotel-room before the 'Man of Progress' made his speech for the night. Mel whispered into the dark and quiet. She traced those long, winding scars on Sevika’s side, careful not to press into the raised skin.

“It’s strange—”

“I spent my whole life running towards my mother—trapped in her shadow. Scraping up every look, every gesture, desperate to understand. To know--if she thought of me at all in those years she sent me away--”

“—I could never appease her--nothing I did was enough, yet she risked everything to save me. She cradled me like I was precious even as she--She waited until then--? Why then? When I was pleading for her my whole life--”

“She chose me--She believed in me--and in the end I didn’t even know what She was--what She wanted. I didn’t know--- that gentleness, adoration, and softness could burn the same way indifference did--“

“And the person I chose--who I loved more than anything--was nowhere to be found.”

Love.

“It’s so—stupid.”

-

And in that quiet night, Sevika’s lips moved without thinking.

She was always a bit…impulsive when it came to Mel. It was an urge that always cropped up--that stirring need to have those hands bury in her deep.

Those old feelings--those old memories were whispered into the comforting darkness for the first time.

-

Sevika remembers her mother—or maybe the woman was a fling of her old man. A persistent memory that lingered too strongly in her childhood.

Strong smoke—wiry hands stacked with gold bangles and shiny rings. She’d pass Sevika a dollar or piece of candy from her bag, tossling her hair as she passed.

Dark eyes glazed, blackened lips pressing apologies into her Dad’s mouth before he could get mad.

She’d come—she’d go—and go—and go, then one day she stopped coming back.

Sometime between sixteen and seventeen, Sevika sat on the front porch, watching that car pull away for the last time.

Once it was out of sight, she pulled out the lighter and cigarette she had flinched from the woman’s purse. She placed the cigarette in her mouth, eyebrows scrunching before she turned it around. She fumbled with the lighter for a minute, that flickering light waning in the cool winter air.

Open, Closed, Open--She raised the lighter to the end of the cigarette, inhaling, trying to swallow her cough.

After a few more tries, she got the hang of it.

Dark eyes fixed above, she counted out the satellites and dead stars. The wind blew hard and she held the front of her flannel shirt together, tight, bracing herself from the cold.

Comfortably numb, Sevika dropped the cigarette butt to the ground, rubbing it out with her sneakers as she made a wish.

-

Sevika took the suitcase from Mel, lifting it into the back of the van. She looked around, irritated, “Where the hell are they?” she complained.

They had checked out earlier that morning, but the kids still wanted to go to a few shops before they left--so they agreed to meet back in the afternoon for lunch.

They were late.

“Maybe their uber is running late?” Mel suggested, finger tapping her lips expectantly.

Sevika leaned down, kissing her softly, annoyance disappearing briefly before returning, “I doubt it, my arm itches,” she muttered under her breath, “I can sense Jinx’s bullshit from a mile away.”

“Or…perhaps you need to try those creams your doctor suggested,” Mel said, forever skeptical, “I can help you with the application if you want?”

“I don’t need--” Sevika paused, thinking it over, “Wait, really?”

“Of course,” Mel said, hands grasping their scarf, heels lifting as she leaned in and--

Mel’s phone rang--a French lullaby.

-

Isha tapped the windows excitedly as the van pulled over on the side of the road.

Right as it parked, the teens rushed towards it, bags rattling as they threw them inside, doors shutting--van immediately peeling off.

Jinx leaned forward, hands drumming on the back of Mel’s seat, “So is this a grounding? You chewing me out? Running laps? Extra chores? Like what’s the situation?”

“There is no situation,” Sevika said, eyes trained forward, “Put your seatbelt on.”

“Righty-O-Cap’n,” Jinx said with a mock salute, “Ooh can we get ice-cream? I want ice cream--”

“Jinx. Seatbelt.”

Ekko sighed, leaning across and snapping her seatbelt on.

Jinx giggled in response.

Sevika turned up the radio. She looked at her side mirrors, those blooming flowers smearing across the billboard--paint dripping a jarring mix of colors that stained that pristine landscape. Around the billboard, wreaths of flowers, decorated bottles, and unlit candles reclaimed the space.

It was inevitable for it to be cleared out again.

In the same sense, it was inevitable for the memorial to return. Like a flame that’s been snuffed out again and again. It will never be the same, yet it will persist in spite of the odds.

Sevika’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel, speaking low, “Where did she get the money for all those flowers?” she asked with a sidelong glance.

Mel hummed, eyes watching those rolling hills, “I’m not quite sure,” she said with a small smile, “She’s a clever girl. I’m sure she has her ways.”

-

‘WELCOME TO PILTOVER’

Blue spray-paint scratched out the city's name, scrawling out something new instead. - ‘THE CITY OF PROGRESS’

White spray paint did the same.

-

'WELCOME TO PISSLOVER'

-

'THE CITY OF BULLSHIT'

-

After the kids were all dropped off, Sevika and Mel climbed back into the van. They drove for a long time, past those rolling hills and gleaming lights. Where the countryside was tamed and glossy fences stood tall on the horizon.

-

Shuffling into the apartment, Jinx flinched, catching the keys tossed her way. Vi hopped up from the couch, handing an envelope to her as well.

“The fuck are these?” Jinx rasped, nudging a sleepy Isha towards her bedroom.

“I got a place,” Vi said, scratching her hair, “I’ve already moved my shit, but I’m not leaving until early January.”

“Oh.”

And while Jinx knew she was leaving--this felt different.

More…real.

“Try not to lose the key, management’s a dick. And you’ll need to pick out what you want for your bedroom, but--”

“Wait?” Jinx blinked, ripping open the envelope--a train pass, “My... bedroom?”

Vi tilted her head, “We’ve been looking for a two-bedroom apartment this whole time? Who’d you think it was for--actually don’t answer that,” she said, shaking her head, “But, anytime you need me--anytime you’re sick of that old-lady’s face, my doors will always be op--oof,” she groaned, nearly thrown off balanced.

Jinx sniffled, hiding her face in their shoulders as she squeezed her sister tight.

-

Shadows stretched —tombs standing tall in the early morning light. Scrawling cursive etched into the marbled surfaces, fresh flowers sprinkling the plots.

Mel stood in front of her Mothers grave. She let go of Sevika’s hand, stepping forward with a bouquet of white, slender petals that sprouted cobbs of gold. She set them down across the plot, watery eyes dancing across the little painted-red stones circling her grave.

“My Mother…” Mel closed her eyes, a bitter laugh caught by the wind, “She always hated the smell of peace-lilies,” she shared, not quite smiling. She wiped her face, returning to Sevika’s side and reaching for their hand.

-

Sticky fingers pressing into paint. Colors bloomed at her fingertips--that shimmering gold coating her cheeks and hands as she carved little lines into that stone.

“We’ll make our wishes and bury them now,"

Kino wiped her face and hands clean, whispering to her another story--one she’ll soon forget.

It was about a strange man.

He held her hands gently when she was far too young to remember his face. The clean scent of a hospital bed. The crinkling of newspapers as they colored in the margins, curled up in his lap. How they were picked up and taken away, their mother’s boots heavier with each step.

They didn’t go back to the hospital, instead she took them into the garden. She pressed colorful stones into both of their hands, holding them tight as she spun a different tale.

“--and by the time spring comes--”

Mel dropped her stone into the hole, covering it with soil.

“He’ll come home.”

Mel pressed her hands into the dirt, dress filthy, tears streaking her face as she whispered the same wish over and over--and over again.

“I wanna go home.”

[cherrygirlystuff]

Grunge Gatherings: Your Guide to Indie Sleaze Socials

Hey babe! 🌸 Ready to throw it back to those epic indie sleaze gatherings that defined a generation? Welcome to Grunge Gatherings, where we’re diving into the social side of the indie sleaze scene. From house parties and underground gigs to DIY events and everything in between, we’ve got all the tips and outfit guides you need to host a gathering that’s straight-up legendary. So grab your friends, crank up the tunes, and let’s get this party started! 🎉🎸

Grunge Gatherings: Bringing the Indie Sleaze Vibe to Your Social Life 🌟

The indie sleaze scene wasn’t just about the music or the fashion—it was about the community, the connections, and the unforgettable nights spent with friends. Whether you’re planning a chill house party, an underground gig, or a spontaneous get-together, nailing the indie sleaze vibe is all about creating a space where everyone feels free to be themselves. Ready to dive in? Let’s break it down!

1. House Parties: The Heart of Indie Sleaze Socials 🎉

House parties were the epitome of indie sleaze culture—intimate, unpretentious, and totally epic. Here’s how to throw a house party that captures the spirit of the era:

DIY Decor: Forget fancy decorations—think more along the lines of DIY. Use old band posters, string lights, and thrift store finds to create a laid-back, eclectic vibe. Throw up some fairy lights, hang up vintage records, and scatter some candles around for a cozy, grungy feel.

Music is Key: Curate a playlist that’s equal parts nostalgic and eclectic. Mix in some classic indie anthems with lesser-known tracks for that perfect indie vibe. If you can, set up a turntable for spinning vinyl—it adds a touch of authenticity and gives your party that extra edge.

Comfort Over Style: Create a space that’s comfortable and inviting. Think bean bags, floor cushions, and cozy blankets. Your friends will appreciate having a place to relax, chat, and soak in the music.

Chill Vibes: Keep the mood relaxed and laid-back. Encourage people to bring their own drinks and snacks to keep things casual. The goal is to create a space where everyone feels at home and can let loose.

Outfit Guide for House Parties:

Grungy Chic: Opt for distressed jeans, oversized band tees, and vintage leather jackets. Comfort is key, so keep your look effortless and cool.

Layer Up: Throw on a flannel shirt over your tee or a beanie to complete your look. Don’t be afraid to mix textures and patterns for that signature indie sleaze style.

2. Underground Gigs: Embracing the DIY Music Scene 🎸

Underground gigs were the heartbeat of the indie sleaze scene—raw, unfiltered, and totally exhilarating. Here’s how to channel that energy into your own DIY music event:

Find the Right Venue: Look for local spots that have that gritty, underground vibe—basements, warehouses, or even your own garage can work. The key is to find a space that feels authentic and intimate.

Lineup and Promotion: Get in touch with up-and-coming bands and solo artists who embody the indie spirit. Use social media, local flyers, and word of mouth to spread the word. The more grassroots your promotion, the more genuine the vibe.

DIY Decor and Setup: Keep it simple but impactful. Use string lights, old concert posters, and DIY signage to create a low-key but lively atmosphere. Set up a small stage area with a makeshift backdrop for added effect.

Food and Drinks: Offer simple refreshments—think snacks, drinks, and maybe a few homemade treats. Keep it casual and easy to manage so you can focus on enjoying the music and the company.

Outfit Guide for Underground Gigs:

Edgy Elegance: Go for something that looks effortlessly cool yet practical. Think skinny jeans, band tees, and sturdy boots. Layer with a denim jacket or a leather vest for added flair.

Statement Accessories: Add some grungy accessories like chunky rings, layered necklaces, and vintage pins. These little details can elevate your look and make you stand out in the crowd.

3. Spontaneous Get-Togethers: Embracing the Impromptu Vibes ✨

Sometimes the best gatherings are the ones that aren’t planned. Embrace those spontaneous moments with these tips:

Easygoing Planning: Keep it simple—whether you’re meeting at a local park, your favorite café, or even just hanging out at someone’s house, make sure the vibe is relaxed and easygoing.

Casual Activities: Think laid-back activities like a DIY craft session, a movie marathon, or just chilling with some good tunes. The goal is to keep things fun and informal.

Flexible Dress Code: Since these get-togethers are more about spontaneity than style, go for an outfit that’s comfy and effortlessly cool. Think relaxed jeans, vintage tees, and your favorite sneakers.

Outfit Guide for Spontaneous Get-Togethers:

Effortless Cool: Throw on a pair of high-waisted jeans, a graphic tee, and some chunky boots. Add a beanie or a bandana for a touch of grunge.

Layer Smartly: Since these gatherings can be casual, layer with a denim jacket or a lightweight sweater for easy changes in weather or mood.

Final Thoughts, Gorgeous: Bringing the Indie Sleaze Vibe to Life 🌟

There you have it, babe—your ultimate guide to hosting and dressing for indie sleaze gatherings! Whether you’re throwing a cozy house party, organizing an underground gig, or just planning a spontaneous hangout, the key is to keep it genuine, relaxed, and full of that signature indie spirit. With the right mix of decor, music, and outfits, you’ll create gatherings that are unforgettable and totally on point.

What’s your go-to for indie sleaze gatherings? Share your tips and stories in the comments—I’d love to hear how you’re bringing the grunge glamour to life! 💕

[boraluv]

the last word

𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 was listening to “Take Me There” by Rascal Flatts (a fav from my youth) and this idea just popped into my lil brain 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚

// A place in your heart that nobody’s been- take me there //

genre: pretty much just silly sweet fluff !!

______________________________________________

A mini-van slowly moves forward, away from the curb, and you maneuver your small sedan into the now vacant space. Your mid-sized local airport … Even this late in the autumn, dust lingers in the air like fine, muted confetti, signaling the end of harvest. The car will need a wash at some point, even though it’s only been a week or so. However, a sudsy bath for your vehicle is currently low on the priority list.

Opening your messaging app, you review the most recent thread.

“Ready when you are! Text me a door number - I’ll come find you. I can’t wait to see you, baby.”

Your fingers blur as you type back. “2nd to last exit, should be door 5! My trunk is open- your getaway driver awaits, Sir. 🫡”

The trunk snaps open with a satisfying “pop” when you pull the lever, then step outside the car. Business men in suits, college kids wearing atheisure and chunky headphones, and even a few families with bundled children move through the sliding doors. You wonder how many of them are here visiting, and which ones call this place home. What stories do they bring with them from the skies?

A figure, dressed subtly in tennis shoes, dark joggers, a long black coat and beanie appears. A large suitcase wearing a few “SUPREME” stickers rolls along next to him. Eyes connecting to yours, his pace quickens and you can tell he’s smiling now, even with a mask obscuring all but his dark, crinkling eyes.

“Hihihihi” you quietly squeal, stepping up and down in fast succession. It’s a mix of jumping and almost a jig, your excitement too much to keep held fast any longer. You know timing means everything right now, every moment is a calculated risk.

“Here, you can put your bag in the trunk.” You motion to the cleaned out space, and he deftly lifts the large bag inside. He maintains eye contact with you, reaching for your gloved hand with his left one, while deftly shutting the trunk lid with his right. Butterflies bubble up from your belly towards your heart, his long lashes lowering his gaze to yours.

“I missed you so much, jagi,” he says quietly. About to answer, the automated loudspeaker reminds all vehicles that this not a parking zone and to move forward as quickly as possible. You roll your eyes, letting out a laugh. His eyes crinkle again while firmly squeezing your hand. After the third quick compression, he lets it go and moves towards the passenger door.

You want more contact- a hug, a kiss hello, even a side squeeze!!! but this place is too public. Even on a Tuesday at 9:30am, in a pretty unknown city, anyone could see you two. It’s a risk, one that has been calculated and planned for.

Heat rushes out as you open the door and slide into the drivers seat. Clicking your seatbelt into place, you grin over at the man to your side.

“Hoseok, welcome to my world.”

His heart-shaped smile reflects back at you. “I can’t wait to see more, jagi.”

—————

Dating a celebrity was never in your life plan. Obviously, it wasn’t NOT an option for you- you’re doing it, aren’t you? But it definitely has changed even the simple aspects of life.

Like bringing your boyfriend home to your parents’ for Thanksgiving.

It took a lot of convincing and strategic planning with his team. Multiple plans (A through D), each with their own contingencies. At every step of the way, you knew that things could change within moments.

Trust goes hand in hand with love in any heathy relationship. Over time, Hoseok and you had worked to build and strengthen that trust. This stage of your relationship, solid and steadfast, but still private and without the eyes of the public, was precious. You knew that this could be the only time a trip like this might happen. So, the plans moved forward.

It feels surreal. Sitting at the airport that you spend most of your adult life flying out from on adventures, about to drive to your hometown and childhood home, with your current partner and love of your life. Today feels like a mountaintop view- seeing the winding path of life, bumps and curves and stunning rest points, finally culminating in the here and now.

Mentally shaking yourself back to the present moment, you adjust your sunglasses. Driving around another human - let alone 1/7 of the pride of South Korea - is not an activity to be taken lightly. Focus, woman!

“The drive to my parents will take us about 2 hours. Want to get a coffee for the road?” you ask. The upcoming light turns red, and you stop the car, taking full advantage of the moment to gaze at the man finally next to you.

Pulling off the mask hiding his handsome face, Hoseok groans a sigh of relief. “Yes, absolutely. Show me to the best Iced Americano, please.” He grins, reaching over the console for you, and you give him a quick kiss.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” you murmur. “It doesn’t feel real yet.”

“It feels real to me,” Hobi laughs. “Even flying first class, 16 hours of airtime is still exhausting. I can’t wait to shower and sleep in a real bed tonight.” He rakes a hand through his dark hair, the shaggy cut framing his delicate ears.

“Yeah, I’m sure it was a struggle sipping that free champagne in your lay-flat seat,” you tease back. Eyes soft as you glance over, merging into the next lane, he can tell that you still empathize with his exhaustion. You’ve made the trip to Asia more than once and know just how tiring the long flights get. Not that you’re accustomed to luxurious seating, by any means, but his point lands: long distance travel wears on all who dare it. “Tell me everything, though? Things went smoothly?”

While you focus on driving through the familiar city streets, Hobi recounts his past 24 hours. All the planning paid off, and he had been able to leave Seoul discreetly. With only one connection after his long haul flight, and the added “bonus” of his arrival being early morning, with no entourage surrounding him to draw attention, he made it to your home state with ease. Living in a flyover state, instead of a major city, where your neighbors care more about college football and the upcoming weather forecast than Korean music, has its advantages. Most people here have likely barely heard of BTS, let alone could recognize a single member.

Turning onto a side street, you parallel park in front of your favorite local coffee spot.

“We’re here!” Ignition off, you hop out and put a few quarters in the meter. Leaves rustle by on the sidewalk in the wind, swirling around your feet.

Hobi steps out of the vehicle, stretching long and tall. His eyes roam over the brick buildings, past the cafe to the restaurants and shops. “Yeppeuda,” he comments in Korean. You glance up, impossible to keep a smile from your face. “It is a pretty town, isn’t it?” you agree. “Yah, it is…” he responds. “But I was talking about you.”

You blush but keep your eyes locked with his. Shoving your shoulder into his broad chest, you laugh. “Oh, hush up.”

Hoseok wraps his arms around you and pulls you in for a hug. “C’mere. I haven’t had a proper hug hello yet.” More than willing to oblige, you face him fully and squeeze hard around his chest.

Long distance is difficult. You’re thankful for the growth you’ve seen in yourself, and in the communication you have with Hobi. Video calls help merge the distance, but nothing, nothing, can fill the space of being physically next to this man. And his hugs? The best in the world. Thoughts of coffee postponed, you relax into his arms, thankful for his presence in your life.

———————————————

Two hours of driving can feel like just a moment…. or an eternity. Especially when most of the scenery is farmland and fields. (Which, to be fair, carries a beauty all its own!)

Two hours in the car with Hoseok?

Well, you’d take 20 hours, easily and happily.

Over the past ten months, your comfort level with each other has grown and deepened. Little inside jokes and resolved miscommunications add a sweet history to this budding relationship. Hoseok’s persona as j-hope may be known by many, but you love getting to know the real him.

His brain never stops, always working over a troublesome dance move, fashion concept for the next stage, or a new melody, bubbling out from his thoughts to his lips. Sometimes, the deep well of thoughts turns him quiet, and you have learned that occasionally it takes external forces to drag him out of those ruminating patterns and back into the moment.

This moment, however, is comfortable. You rarely drive the both of you around, but here, on your home turf? It’s the only way. Plus, Hoseok makes a great DJ. A playlist of his choosing weaves music through the car, chill beats a perfect backdrop to your conversation.

Time in the car has passed quickly, each of you filling in the other on your recent schedules. Hoseok updates you on the guys’ activities, while you occasionally interrupting with a question or comment.

“….and Namjoon-ah said to tell you hello from him. He still really wants to experience an American Thanksgiving, you know.”

Giggling, you imagine Namjoon trying to carve out a pumpkin and the disaster scene that could unleash. “Do you think that we should host one next year for everyone? I’d love to see Seokjin and Junggook’s versions of classic Thanksgiving foods.”

Seemingly in sync with you, Hobi grins. “Just keep Namjoon out of the kitchen. He can provide entertainment elsewhere.”

“Exactly! No pumpkin carving or pie preparing for him. Remember that Run episode?” You shudder. “Pumpkin pie needs to be sweet. Too much salt would be catastrophic.”

Seeing your exit approaching ahead, you point out the slightly foggy car window. “Oh! Look, we’re almost here. Do you want to go straight to my parents’ or drive around town a little bit?”

Lighting up, Hoseok leans forward to take in the surroundings, more buildings and fewer fields passing by the side of the road.

“Show me around! Maybe we can park somewhere and walk some? I would love to move.” He stretches exaggeratedly, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

That dang smile on your face - your cheeks will be sore if this keeps up!!- only seems to grow.

“I know just the spot.”

———————

One gloved palm wrapped around a fresh cup of hot coffee, the other encased in Hoseok’s own gloved hand, you think that life can’t get any better. Traveling, the fashion industry, exploring other cultures, a dinner more beautiful than anything you’d ever be able to plate- all things you’ve experienced with the tall man beside you. But this — little, quiet moments together? This brings you such contentment. Especially, here, in your hometown.

Carefully gesturing with your mugged hand, you motion across the street. “That used to be the best ice cream shop in town. My parents took me there after my first- and only- ballet recital.” You close your eyes, breathing dramatically. “The couple who ran the place were so sweet, like everyone’s collective grandparents. And I still don’t think I’ve ever had better ice cream.”

Hoseok squints, reading the sign. “Fleet…Feet. A shoe store?”

You shrug, replying. “Ironic that it’s now a store for people trying to escape calories instead of enjoy them.”

Your boyfriend chuckles. “Well, good thing it’s too cold for ice cream. If it was there still, I would say we have to get some.”

You bump your arm into his. “It’s never too cold for ice cream, silly. But my mom would kill me if I spoiled her cooking by letting you start off with dessert that she didn’t make. Soooo…I guess you get a pass on ice cream.” You glare, mockingly, “For now.”

Turning down a street to your right, the pair of you maneuver towards a large park. The aged oak trees have lost some, but not all, of their leaves. If Gilmore Girls had been set NOT on the east coast, this would be the perfect setting, you think to yourself. The fallen pieces of nature crunch underneath your black boots in a satisfying sound. Hoseok guides you to a metal park bench, and you both sit, taking in the quiet park. The white bandshell is shuttered and silent, the banner strung across it boasting, “See You Next Summer!” A few passerbys wander the paved paths; couples holding hands, a mom pushing a stroller, a college student walking their dog.

“This is where I had my first kiss, you know,” you mention, a sly look on your face as you peek over your drink at Hoseok.

“Oh, really?” He supplies back, an arched brow teasing you.

“Mmmhm,” you respond. “This park is where our town celebration happens. Every summer, there’s a parade, and lots of food, and live music. I guess, it’s kinda like our own little holiday. And, one summer in college, I came home and ran into some old friends here, and the guy I always thought was cute in class was there- and after a drink or two, he kissed me. There was a cover band playing “Billie Jean” and I’ll never be able to hear that song the same way now.” You chuckle at the memory.

“Well, he may have gotten your first kiss here, but he doesn’t get the last word,” Hoseok says after a moment. His face is set seriously, jawline sharp, but his eyes give away his emotions, a twinkle reflecting in their deep inky pools.

“Oh, is that so?” You query.

“It is,” he responds, and setting down his coffee, he places mittened hands on you cheeks and pulls your lips towards his own.

__________________________________________

would love any feedback! I've barely edited it (oops) but 'tis better to post imperfectly than never.

also, I know I teased a totally different story- that's a bit bigger piece so will take me some time to get that ready to post. but I wanted to keep working my way back into writing, so here is a very late thanksgiving drabble (happy- end of January??)

[pokepollsters]

Best Pokémon Protagonist Tournament- Round 1: Match 7

Another counterpart head-to-head, though this one's contestants are far newer!

Victor's distressed jeans and beanie really make him stand out as perhaps the most modern looking protagonist in terms of fashion sense! But there's enough about him to give that Pokémon charm too- who else would carry round such a chunky bag?

As soon as she was first shown off, Gloria has captured the hearts of many fans and artists alike- mainly depicting her with a thick scottish accent and a foul mouth! Either way though, a matching cardigan to go with Victor's hat, and a cute pink dress are a good look for this little lass!

[the1975attheirverybest]

cannot stop thinking about baby's first snowman!!

picture a chunky ass baby with curly hair (rip her mum who had the worst pregnancy heartburn because matty's hair genes refused to be suppressed) all bundled up in her puffy northface coat (but of course) and a beanie that's just a bit big for her so it keeps falling in her eyes and matty or missus has to keep pushing it back. and it's been snowing in england with the snow actually settling, proper white december so they decide to let her make a snowman.

of course she demands he have a carrot nose and that he's called olaf (idk if matty's impressed or thinks his child is basic) anyway because she's the sweetest child ever she wraps her scarf around it at the end i think because "he might get cold otherwise" 🥹

STOP THATS SO CUTEEEE. DO YOU HEAR THAT, VEE? THATS THE SOUND OF MY HEART BURSTING WITH CUTENESS.

I think Matty’s laughing and taking pictures of the beanie slipping over her eyes and the missus is like scolding him for laughing at his own child’s expense and like cuffing the beanie so it sits nicely on her head. Which of course only lasts for about 5 seconds. She peeks over Matty’s shoulder to see that all the pictures and videos that he’s taking show a tiny child swallowed up by the puffer jacket and the beanie and scarf, all that’s visible is her slightly pink cheeks and her giant goofy smile (which she gets from her dad).

At first little girl is concerned because the ground underneath her feet has gone “crunchy.” Like it makes noise when she steps over it with her teeny tiny snow boots. So she freezes in place and starts crying. It takes a bit of convincing and repeatedly telling her that it’s like Anna and Elsa for her to decide to accept that she’s safe.

Matty, of course, thinks that she would enjoy herself a lot more if she knew the endless fun that is to be had with snow. So he shows her how to make snowballs using Mommy as “target practice.”

But matty has no idea he’s created a monster. She, is, her father’s daughter after all. He goes to pick her up and she smashed a snowball right into his face. It hurts, like, a lot, as anyone who’s been hit in the face with a snowball undoubtedly knows (me). But he’s not about to make her feel bad so he just keeps a straight face and smiles at her.

She insists she’s tall enough to build the snowman but even though its bottom half is getting to be bigger than her. Matty lets her think shes contributing significantly to the snowman but in reality, half the snow is falling out of her tiny little palm before it even reaches the body of the snowman. Without mom and dad, Olaf would be a dream. But she’s so proud of herself and giggling and constantly repeating “it’s a snowman!” so they indulge her.

When it’s all done, they ask her if she wants to take a picture next to it. “What shall we call him? What’s his name?”

She instantly says “Olaf”

Matty goes to say something, but his wife knows him well enough to stop him. “Let her. She’s a child.”

“An unoriginal child?”

“No. Just a child.”

“Fine, okay, he’s Olaf today, but we’re getting her more winter themed kid films. Being a child is no excuse for being basic.” (Spoiler alert: she’s one of those incredibly picky kids. Much to Matty’s horror, she refuses to try out other snowmen but will insist on replaying “let it go” like sixteen million times all winter.)

They set up the camera, go to stand next to Olaf, and that’s when she gives him her scarf.

Matty’s like “you’re so sweet” and she says she didn’t want him to be cold. We’re all wearing stuff and he’s not. Right then and there, he starts sobbing. The missus begs him to cut it out and stop scaring his daughter but he just says she’s already got good big sister instincts and we should just give her a sibling.

[saltsicklover]

Part One

Here is part one! I hope you enjoy!!

Title: Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1400+

Rating: R

Warnings: Drinking, Loneliness, Talk of Therapy/MFLAC, Mention of Deployment, swearing.

Second Chance Romance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bob Floyd, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

Natasha Trace has always been one to stay focused, pedal to the metal, the kind of woman who wouldn't let anything get in the way of her education, her career, her dreams. It wasn't until she hit flight school that she really learned how alone in the world she seemed to be. Going home on leave meant seeing her parents and a few 'friends' that she kept in contact with once she left college. They mostly met with her to rub their career advancements, engagements and children in her face. Their lives always the picture perfect, white picket face dreams while hers stories were full of chaos and jet fuel. 

Finally, after her first off shore training, when no one was there to greet her, she finally shuffled into the MFLAC office at the nearest Navel Base after they docked in Pensacola. The counselor was kind and listened while Natasha poured her heart out about no having anyone. No romance, no friendships, she felt like she was completely slipping. Twenty two years old, too young to take on so much alone and too old to bother her mother with everything. So she settled for the Military resources available to her- even if they came in the form of a hippy looking man with too thick glasses and a potted plant problem. 

After what felt like ages, with tissues crumples and used clutched in her fist, she dared a glance at the man in front of her. He wore a kind smile, a goofy beanie, and a chunky cardigan. He was truly a man who looked out of another world compared to the uniforms she was usually surrounded with and that she couldn't decide if she trusted him more of less because of that fact. He offered her a few suggestions before finally holding out a sticky note with a website scrawled across it. 

"What's this?" She questioned him with a sniffle, staring down at the blue ink. She knew it was a website, of course she did, Natasha Trace is not a dumb woman, nor does she live under a rock. What she was failing to see was the significance that little website would end up being. 

"That," The counselor sits back, a confident gleam in his eye, "Is the beginning of at least one new friendship," She gives him a confused look, eyebrows furrowed together. "Its a website for digital pen-pals. You go in, create an account, fill out some get-to-know-you type stuff and then you get a list of emails from people who have similar interests as you! Then you can email back and fourth and make connections!" The counselor seemed way too excited for his own good, but Natasha stuffed the small piece of paper into her pocket anyway. 

She never planned on looking at it again, she almost forgot it was in her pocket. The note stuffed down deep in the pocket of her BDU's, no doubt heading for a watery grave in the barracks laundry room. It was only after a couple more weeks and an intense few rounds of mission training, she came home with the plan of killing a bottle of wine and forgetting everything having to do with the Navy until she had to report in again on Monday, did she think of that pesky little note. 

Halfway through that bottle, she couldn't kick the loneliness that burrowed itself so deep within her chest that she could no longer decipher it from herself. So, after digging through a pile of laundry to procure the bright pink sticky note, she positioned herself in front of her computer. 

By the time the bottle of wine was empty, she had filled out so many questions about herself from her favorite movies and foods to her hobbies. Under the "Things to Discuss" prompt, she didn't know what to write, and the cursor blinked at her for far too long before she entered "Anything but work!". It was supposed to be funny, and to her well liquored mind it certainly was. 

Before she knew it, the wine fully took her over and she was drunk typing emails to random strangers, ones that the website guarenteed she would have something in common with. They came up after the end of the almost never ending list of questions. 

She passed out after writing fifteen. 

The next afternoon, she woke up hungover, the emails all a hazy mess in her brain. But, she had one reply, one that would start a friendship that would last a lifetime. 

"Dear Nash, How wonderful it is to finally hear from someone! I started on this site a few weeks ago and had yet to receive anything until your very *colorful* email last night. I will say, it was a surprisingly vulnerable email for a first one, but I am happy to return the favor! 

I have to admit, the fact that you are a pilot is so badass! The only pilots I know fly rickety, two seater planes. What do you fly? Do you fly for one of those big airlines or maybe cargo? 

I am so sorry to hear about your feelings of loneliness and isolation; being the new kid on the block is never a fun experience. I would love to help you feel less lonely any way that I can! 

You can call me Sunny, it's not my real name, but I'd like to curate a more adult persona going into college. I ditched my tried and true nickname the minute I graduated and I'm not looking back! 

I am 18 years old, starting college out in Minnesota. I am hoping to get a degree and become a writer one day! I left home a little over three months ago, leaving my Brother and Uncle to tend the family ranch themselves. I am worried about them not having the extra set of hands but I am so glad that I can work further on my education instead of having to do heavy labor. I will miss taking care of the beehives, though! 

I really hope to hear back from you, but if you're not interested in talking to someone so much younger than you, especially when you have such a cool job. Being a piolet must be so awesome. 

With warmth, Sunny. 

PS: Were you drunk when you wrote that last email?"

That singular exchange changed Natasha's whole world. From then on, they began emailing back and fourth every few days, slowly learning more and more about each other. They also agreed on rules, ones that they wanted to use to keep themselves safe. 

No specifics about their hometowns or their families. Best to keep private information private. They used nicknames for almost everyone they talked about, which was a lot easier on Natasha's end when everyone was given callsigns. She told Sunny all the names were made up, what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, and it was easier to keep everyone straight in her head. 

Sunny had to get more creative, but it was a challenge she loved. After getting a few silly nicknames from Natasha's side (Which were actually call signs) she started giving people from work stupid nicknames too. Her boss was Toilet Plunger. Her brother became St. Mary. Her Uncle was Pitchfork. As the years went on, names began to stick and writing the nicknames in emails became second nature. 

Much to Natasha's dismay, though, Sunny only ever referred to her as Nash. A drunken mistake turned lifelong nickname. 

No photos, that was a big one. It was always easier to say what you really wanted to say when you couldn't picture the other person's look of disappointment. They also agreed on no phone calls; that meant no calling and singing 'happy birthday' or wishing the other a safe flight. 

That rule first bothered Natasha when she got an email six months later from Sunny, letting Nat know that Sunny had left college. She wasn't adjusting well, not to the city, or the campus or to her crazy roommate. She was close to failing out. The email made Nat's heart ache- she wanted nothing more than to call Sunny in that moment and tell her that everything would be okay, that she was smart and capable and would find her place in the world. 

Sunny wanted to call Natasha a year after that, right when she found out Natasha was being deployed for the first time. Sunny wasn't an idiot but she was also a civilian, thus having no idea what a deployment could actually mean. All Sunny knew was that she wanted to hear Natasha's voice and tell her that everything was going to be just fine. She wanted to tell Nat that she could do this. She settled for an email that read 

"I know this is scary but you can do it. You're a badass bitch, you'll get through this. Do it scared. I'll be waiting for an email. I love you, be safe." 

Nat would never admit it, but she printed that email out and stuffed it in the chest pocket of her flight suit over her heart. "Do it scared" became her motto; the motto got her home safe. 

The men on the carrier with her teased her relentlessly. They thought she was hiding some boyfriend or lover. Rumors swirled around her, and though she would never admit it to them, it made her question her sexuality. Sunny was the first person she came out to. She confided in Sunny about not being able to decide if she should say yes to the date offer from the man in her she met in line at the DEFAC or if she should say yes to the woman she met at the clinic on the day of her UA. Sunny liked to tease her about it, all out of love, saying neither were good enough stories to tell her children about. "Yeah, I met your Dad over piles of brown mush" or "Yes, I met your Mom while we were waiting to piss into cups" neither romantic in the slightest. 

They were there for each other through the toughest parts of life, and all of the moments that were worth celebrating. The years rolled on and the women became closer and closer. Having never met, they were closer than most anyone they had ever met, deciding to be each other's best friend seemingly the easiest decision either ever made. 

[tabsters]

The Twelve Days of Zodiacs - Day 8

"On the eighth day of Christmas, my Zodiacs gave to me, Eight drinkers drinking, Seven bakers baking, Six ornaments, Five ugly sweaters, Four wrapped presents, Three snowmen, Two bread rolls, And a snowball fight under a tree."

it should be noted that this story is in a modern AU, aka an AU where no magic exists. everyone is just normal and untraumatized! the modern AU names for the characters are listed below:

SGZ! Scorpio: Scott SGZ! Scutum: Jasper SGZ! Ophiuchus: Oberon SGZ! Perseus: Percy SGZ! Orion: Elliot SGZ! Centaurus: Russell

tagging @mythicalmagical-monkeyman @hyperfixation-tangentopia @maiawhimsicalt @sweet-star-cookie

next chapter is here!

"Your brother's coffee shop is pretty cute," Ciara said as they walked through the doors, the bell jingling. The place was decorated with various Christmas decorations, with wreaths, fake sprigs of mistletoe and holly, and tinsel all around. "Maybe I should work here when I'm older."

"My brother doesn't own Moonbeans Cafe," Cassie laughed, waving to the barista on duty. "There he is, though."

"Cass!" Cassie's brother—Ciara forgot his name, but she knew that it started with a D—waved the two of them over. "And Ciara, right? What do you guys want? It's on the house."

"I can pay!" Ciara announced, rummaging through her bag for her wallet. Now that she was up close, she could see that Ciara's brother's name tag read Demitri. "You don't need to do that!"

"It's fine, it's fine," Demitri said, waving her off. "We got a lot of tips earlier, anyway. Huge rush of people for lunch."

"Well, if you're sure..."

"Hot chocolate!" Cassie pointed to the menu. "With whipped cream and sprinkles."

"Uh, can I get..." Ciara scanned the menu, trying to see which item was the least expensive. She felt kind of guilty for just taking free drinks. "The peppermint mocha?"

"Coming right up!" Demitri said cheerfully. It seemed like he was the only barista on duty. Perhaps everyone else was taking a break, as there was only one other person in the coffee shop.

And then someone else walked into the shop. Ciara could physically feel her heart stop and constrict.

"Shit!" Ciara whispered, immediately going to hide herself behind Cassie. "Hide me!"

"Huh?" Cassie asked, confused, and not just because she was much shorter than Ciara and would undoubtedly be awful at hiding her. "What? Why?"

"There's...ah, there's someone from school here."

Cassie craned her head at the figure who was now sitting at one of the tables, getting their sketchbook out. Ciara was internally screaming, crying, and cursing every god she could think of.

"Who's that?" Cassie asked, eyes widening as she began to realize something. Ciara's face felt like it was on fire, and she was pretty sure she was becoming as red as a lobster. "Is that...aww, Ciara, is that your crush?"

"Not so loud," Ciara hissed, clamping her hands around Cassie's mouth and dragging her to a table far, far away from her crush. "He might hear you."

"Who is he, anyway?" Cassie asked, still trying to get a better look at him. "Have you never talked to him in your life?"

Ciara sighed, deeply. She was lucky that her crush was wearing his enormous chunky headphones, the ones he used whenever he was locking in for drawing. "He's in my art class. He's been in my classes ever since middle school. We used to be close."

He was wearing a black beanie paired with a dark gray sweater, his eyeliner swept into cat eyes. He was fidgeting with a loom band bracelet done in the colors of the trans flag, the look in his eyes filled with quiet determination.

"...Ciara? Helloooo? Earth to Ciara?" Ciara abruptly realized that she had zoned out, and that Cassie was snapping her fingers in front of her face in an attempt to resuscitate her.

"Anyway!" Ciara said loudly as Demitri called out, 'Hot chocolate and peppermint mocha!' She stood up abruptly, almost knocking her chair over. "I'm gonna go get that for us!"

She very quickly walked over, grabbed the drinks, and then speed walked back to the table. She then proceeded to down a fourth of her drink in one gulp. Cassie looked like she was part enjoying Ciara's panic and part concerned for her friend's wellbeing.

"Oh, I know that guy!" Cassie said, pointing to the man sitting behind them. Ciara turned his head to look at him. He had dark hair, and he had eyebags so dark, they looked like bruises. He was typing furiously on his laptop. His black hoodie was pulled over his head and he kept pushing his glasses up his nose. A thick purple scarf was wrapped around his neck, partially covering his mouth. There were also three empty coffee cups sitting on his table. He looked very tired and very much done with life.

"Who's that?" Ciara asked, because he looked like he was in desperate need of a nap. "And how do you know him?"

"He's a frequent customer around here. He's always here when I come to visit." Cassie shrugged. "Wanna go talk to him?"

Ciara glanced towards the figure in the corner, and decided that it was a great idea to get out of his line of sight as quickly as possible. "Yeah, let's."

"Oh, Cassie!" Demitri called from the counter, holding a box in his arms. "Flicker was in the back. He's been at the vet all morning, so he's kind of tired." Cassie's face lit up.

"Flicker!" Cassie rushed forward to take the box. Inside was a tiny hamster, its little mouth opening and closing as it snored. "Did you miss me? Were the vets mean to you? Hey, Scott! Look at my hamster!"

The tired-looking man glanced in their direction as they approached him. He nodded, once, and then returned to his furious typing. Ciara distantly thought that he could kick ass at typing.com.

"Aren't you going to take a break?" Cassie asked, setting the hamster box onto Scott's table. "It's the holiday season! Are you really going to spend it alone?"

Scott sighed, but shut his laptop. "Very well. I shall look at your hamster."

He bent his head down to the plastic box, watching as the tiny golden hamster slowly woke up. "Good evening, Flicker. I hope your day has been well?"

Flicker tilted its head up at the man, possibly also wondering why Scott was so tired.

"My day has been tiring. This morning was filled with many phone calls and much paperwork," Scott continued. Ciara had to stifle a laugh, because the sight of a grown man talking in such formal language to a tiny hamster was objectively hilarious. "It must be nice, living the life of a hamster."

"What do you even do?" Cassie asked as Flicker retreated back into its little hamster house. "I've asked you so many times and I never get an answer."

"I told you every time," Scott said, opening his laptop up again. "I work in a high-ranking government position."

"That's not a proper answer at all."

"I completely agree!" A new voice said, coming in from the back door. "You really must be more honest, especially when talking to me."

Ciara turned to look at the newcomer, who was a short, stout man with a bright orange jacket. He smiled up at the two girls, took a sip of his coffee, then took a seat across from Scott.

"I see you've met my friend here," He said, poking Scott's hand until he closed the laptop again. "I'm Jasper. Medic at the local hospital. He and I seem to be meeting quite a lot."

"I've seen you around!" Cassie said, sitting down next to him. "You always tip really well. My brother likes you."

"Hi, Jasper," Scott sighed, looking like he wanted to combust into thin air. "I have work to do. My job is very busy."

"You've been working for the entirety of the holidays," Jasper said cheerfully, quickly snatching the man's laptop away. "Take a break for at least one day."

Scott looked between all three of the hopeful faces before them and finally sighed once more. "Okay. If you insist."

"You're wearing the scarf I gave you!" Cassie pointed to the purple scarf around Scott's neck. Scott himself looked down at himself, seemingly noticing this himself. "The one I made you last Christmas!"

"Yes. I am. It's very warm." Scott rubbed the scarf between his fingers. "Thank you for making it for me."

"Are you wearing the mittens I gave you?" Jasper asked, leaning across the table. "I thought they suited you very well!"

Scott sighed some more, pulling two mittens out of his pocket, which had knitted scorpions on their fronts. "I took them off, but I was making good use of them earlier."

"Good!"

-

They then spent at least an hour chatting with Scott—or more like, they talked to Scott, and he gave one sentence answers. Ciara had to stifle laughs many times, because this man just seemed so blunt and straight-forward all of the time.

"Dude, I had to google 'what does stabbing feel like' once, because I was writing a horror story for English," Ciara laughed. "I got called to the principal's office and I had to spend half an hour explaining myself."

"I was stabbed once," Scott said, but Jasper quickly talked over him with some comments about how he hoped Ciara wrote stab wounds in an accurate way. 

"You wouldn't believe how many people overestimate or underestimate the amount of blood you can get from a stab wound," Jasper said, quickly getting interrupted by his ringing phone. He turned it to FaceTime. "Hello?"

"Jasper, we need you." A man with bleached white hair said, speaking while walking. A dark green mask covered his lower face. "As soon as possible. We—where on Earth are you?"

"Coffee shop, Oberon," Jasper said cheerfully. "I'll be there in a bit!"

The medic quickly stood up, shaking everyone's hands in quick succession. "Wonderful to see you all. I must be off!"

And then he exited, leaving Scott to grab at his laptop again. Scott looked up at Ciara and Cassie again. "You shouldn't be bothering with an old man like me. Go hang out with your friends. I saw you looking at that one guy earlier."

"Yes, that's right!" Cassie clapped her hands together, turning Ciara back around to look at her crush. Oh no. "You should go hang out with mystery guy."

Ciara made a couple of weak sounds of protest as Cassie pushed her closer and closer towards her crush. He didn't look up, not even as they stood directly next to him.

Cassie tapped him lightly on the shoulder, and he looked up, taking his headphones off. "Hi!"

"Hi?" He asked, looking between Cassie and Ciara. "Oh! Ciara! I didn't expect to see you here."

Ciara breathed in, out, in. "Hi, Kai."

"My brother works here," Cassie said cheerfully. "So we decided to hang out here, and then Ciara recognized you."

"I—yep, yep, I did." Ciara nodded her head up and down. She felt like a bobblehead. "How—how have you been?"

"I've been good!" Kai laid his hands in his lap, and Ciara didn't miss how Cassie was slowly inching further and further away from them. "AP Psychology has been kicking my ass, though."

"Ah—ha, yeah, me too."

"Hey, sit down." Kai gestured towards the chair across from him. He moved some of his stuff out of the way. "I wanna catch up."

So Ciara sat.

"Didn't you win an award for one of your pieces?" Kai asked, flipping through his sketchbook. "The piece that had those two girls. You've really improved since middle school, huh?"

"I mean, I guess." Ciara tapped her fingers on the table. She really wanted to see what Kai was sketching the entire time he was here. But she knew how sacred sketchbooks were to artists—she'd kill anyone that touched her own sketchbook without permission—so she kept her mouth shut.

"I was wondering, can you give me some advice?" Kai flipped to a page near the end, showing it to Ciara. "I'm planning on entering this into the spring show next year."

"Oh. Okay, sure." Ciara scrutinized the sketch, looking for areas of improvement. It was of a girl looking into a mirror, reaching her hand out. Her reflection was that of a boy’s, his hair cut shorter than the girl’s.

“Is this about…dysphoria?” Ciara asked, knowing how sensitive the subject might be to Kai. When they were in middle school, Kai had been the target of bullying and scorn. It was part of what led them to drift apart. “It’s very well drawn.”

Kai nodded. “Yeah, it is. And thank you.”

“Well, in terms of advice, I’d—" Ciara was cut off as the door opened again.

“Cassie!” It was three boys, all of them rushing towards Cassie. One of them was wearing a purple hoodie, one of them was carrying a green messenger bag, and one of them had dark blue hair. Wow, Cassie really did have a lot of friends. Ciara swallowed, turning her attention back to the sketch.

“Well, the perspective between the hand and the mirror is a bit off. I think that it would be better if the angle was slightly more like this.” Ciara made a few vague hand movements, knowing that Kai would pick up on what she was trying to convey. A pang of nostalgia resonated within her chest as she remembered how they used to do this exact same thing when they were younger.

“Oh yeah, I thought that as well. There’s a rougher sketch on the next page.”

“Alright.” Ciara turned the page, looking at the sketch on the back of the page. “Alright, yeah, so—"

A sketch on the next page caught her eye. It was of a girl with a headband, with big, dark eyes, mouth open in laughter—

It was of her. The date below the sketch was today.

That was what Kai had been working on the entire time he was here.

“What are you looking at—?” Kai asked, leaning over to look at the page. His face then paled, then went bright red, in rapid succession. Ciara might have thought it was funny, if her face wasn’t doing the exact same thing.

“Anyway!” Ciara said loudly, quickly closing the sketchbook and all but shoving it back towards Kai. Kai quickly took it and shoved it in his backpack. “The perspective’s really my only issue with it. Uh, why don’t you come back to me with the lineart and we’ll talk more?”

“Yeah, sure!” Kai nodded and smiled, just like how he used to do in middle school. Ciara could feel her heart physically skip a beat. “You still have my phone number, right?”

“I actually got a new phone in freshman year,” Ciara said, pulling out her phone. “You can put it in.”

“Nice.” Kai did a double-take when he saw her wallpaper. “Yo, is this Alien Stage? I love that series!”

“Really?” Ciara asked in disbelief. “You like Alien Stage too?”

“Are you kidding? I’m Ivan’s biggest fan.” He quickly turned his phone on, showing Ciara his lock screen. It was a piece of fanart depicting the iconic Till and Ivan kiss from Round 6. “Did you see the newest video?”

“Dude, no! My heart can’t take any more sadness after Round 6!”

Both of them laughed. Kai’s phone chimed, and there was a twinge of disappointment on his face. “Dammit, I have to go now. But it was really nice to see you again, Ra-ra.”

He used my childhood nickname. Ciara thought belatedly. “Nice to see you too, uh—"

She hesitated. Kai no longer went by the name he did when he was younger. So much had changed. Kai seemed to notice this as well.

“Kiki,” Ciara declared, and Kai laughed. “That’ll be your new nickname.”

“Alright, alright,” Kai said. “I accept the name Kiki. Oh, wait-“

He pointed above them. Ciara looked up, to find a single bundle of mistletoe above their heads. She looked back at Kai’s face, and she could tell that both of them were blushing.

“I gotta kiss you, huh?” Kai asked. He then seemed to realize that he might be overstepping quite a bit. “I mean—not that I’ll do it if you don’t want me to—"

Ciara slowly held out her hand, and Kai took that as his signal. He slowly bent his head down, delivering a quick peck onto Ciara’s knuckles.

“Okayseeyoubye!” Kai stammered out, grabbing all of his things and fleeing the cafe. Ciara stared after him, dazed.

“Yeah!” Cassie shouted suddenly, and Ciara whirled around to find her and the three boys clapping for her.

“I’m never washing my hand again,” Ciara said as she approached the table. The boys—Russel, Elliot, and Percy, as Cassie helpfully informed her—all gave her thumbs ups.

“See?” Cassie rested her head on her hands. “It turned out fine, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ciara took a sip of her now room temperature mocha, smiling. “It really did turn out fine.”

this is your signal to watch alien stage please you can watch the entire thing in less than an hour I am indoctrinating all of my mutuals into the pain of alien stage PLEASEEEEEE

check out @sweet-star-cookie's starglass zodiac lore if you liked this!! questions about my lore are greatly appreciated!!

[pansy-tranny]

I'm 18 is it cool if I vent? If not, then just disregard.

Sometimes I worry I'm not boyish enough, my hairs in a bob that I'm not allowed to cut and my voice is too high and feminine. I fucking hate it but there's not much I can do until I'm stable enough financially.

I wear as neutral a style as I can, but there's not much option given its all women's clothes.

Sorry again if it's not allowed.

Just call me A.

Yo, it's totally cool dw A. I don't know how far you can push limits, but I way I've been surviving is doing every small thing I can to affirm myself as a man. The cool thing is it's not limited to your appearance. It can be in how you carry yourself, how you walk, the fire you carry in your heart.

"Tactical style" stuff like a chunky black diver's watch or stainless steel accessories carried me a long way. You can excuse it as being more durable than daintier things. Boots too. Leather is a good option if you can get some, and you can pass it off as being popular for women. My personal style tends towards punk/traditionally masculine/practical stuff, but that's not a qualifier for manhood. What matters is that you feel like you can kick ass in whatever you're wearing. Power outfits, y'know? Every little thing you can do to keep yourself sane helps. That's not to say it's easy. It's hard as fuck. But you can do it.

I was fortunate enough to be able to have relative freedom wrt my hair, but a neat trick I saw was tucking it into a beanie and leaving a little bit out so it looks like a fringe, if that makes sense.

The voice thing I totally understand. I was a soprano and sounded like fucking Minnie Mouse. I had the privilege of relative easy access to HRT which helped a lot with my voice, but it is possible to sound relatively masculine without it. Certain male characters are actually voiced by women (Xingqiu from Genshin Impact, voiced by Cristina Vee Valenzuela comes to mind), which has been a comfort to me. Speaking from the chest and avoiding using my "head voice" has helped.

I ended up writing a lot more than I thought I would (also I'm sorry if this wasn't what you were looking for) oop. Anyways you've got this. Best of luck.