#Miss Teen Continental

[bluelolblue]

Biscuit

Summary: Santino found an abandoned puppy and decided to take her home. He named her Biscotti, and she quickly became a new family member, getting along with Dog and Santino's husband and bodyguard, John.

Rating: Teen, lots of fluff

Relationship: Santino D'Antonio/John Wick

Note: This fic is a gift for my dog Lara, for her birthday! I decided to write this because I needed something wholesome, and because I also think Lara wouldn't want any dog to be abandoned. They all deserve a nice home. This fic also means a lot to me, I put some of Lara's characteristics into Biscotti, and I think it really fits her and how Santino and John handle everything. They love dogs so why not give them a little fluffy puppy ^ ^

☆ SPECIAL THANKS TO @mrssimply ☆ for beta reading and helping out with it! I'm so glad you enjoyed it and got to read it first ehehe!

Enjoy Santino and John being dog parents :3

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ૮ ᴖﻌᴖა ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Snippet

“When are you coming back?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, probably. I settled things down here,” John said through the phone. He was sent to Italy to do one of Santino's jobs. Why should the Crime Lord himself get his hands dirty when he had a loyal bodyguard... who was also his husband who would die for him?

“Good, I can't wait. There's something I want to show you.”

John could tell Santino was smiling even through the phone. He didn’t often hear that soft tone over the phone so he was actually really curious to know what made him this happy.

“Did you do something?” John asked, smiling to himself. Usually when Santino was being honest he sounded like this, meaning John could indeed expect something. Probably something good.

“No… kinda. You'll see.”

“Alright. I'm looking forward to whatever it is,” John said, “And I can't wait to see you.”

He could hear a faint chuckle and what he assumed was Dog whining playfully in the background. Although, it sounded a bit more high pitched.

“Can't wait to see you, too. Be careful on your last day there. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

What could've Santino done in one day? John knew him pretty well, he was married to him, he knew his habits, his mood, everything. And he knew how sometimes Santino could be unpredictable, but that never changed the way John felt about him.

He was thinking about Santino the whole day, he couldn't wait to return back home and see whatever Santino had been preparing. He missed Dog, too.

Thankfully, he could rest today at the Continental in Rome. He’d done what he had to do, there shouldn't be any problems, he could allow himself to rest.

He took a nap so that time flew faster, and that nap turned into a full deep sleep which was good. However at some point at 2 am he was awakened by a notification on his phone, and it was from Santino.

He sent a picture of Dog curled up on the bed on John's side, followed by a text, “He misses you and wishes you good night.”

Read the rest on ao3

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I found this blog through a reblog and decided I’d poll Tumblr whether I’m the asshole. And the reason I’m concerned is because my mother (53 f) doesn’t think I’m the asshole, and that’s a bit of a red flag.

My sister (22 f) was home from college for break. She was to be traveling out of state to visit her boyfriend (23 m). Meaning, she was going to be flying in the continental US. As such, she needed a 1 qt, clear, plastic bag for her travel liquids. My family has several durable and clear plastic bags (as opposed to ziplocks) for this very purpose.

But rather than use one of these empty bags, she emptied my care bag.

This bag is fairly small. It usually holds my acne medication, including topical creams, tablets, prescribed moisturizer, etc… in travel sizes for me to take with me to work. I also include my migraine meds and lactose pills in this bag, among other things. And it fits perfectly within my backpack’s side pocket (which is why I bought it).

I noticed immediately that she had taken it as she had just dumped the contents all over my bathroom counter. So, I called her and told her that she needed to return it to me (at the time, she was only an hour away and her flight wasn’t for another week). She tried to play it off at first. “What bag?” Then she tried to reason that it wasn’t a big deal. Then she told me she didn’t want to make her bf drive an hour to return the bag to me as it’d put them an hour back in their drive, so I should just let it go.

And the reasonable part of me thinks… maybe I should? Maybe I should just go out and buy a new bag? Like… it’s annoying that she took it without asking and dumped everything out of it. It’s annoying that the bag doesn’t even meet TSA requirements as she claimed (it’s black and not completely clear). It’s annoying that I had asked her if she needed me to get her anything up for her night before and that rather than ask for help, she took something. And it’s annoying that she didn’t use the clear bags provided to her by our mother.

But the thing is… it’s not just the bag. This happens with all my stuff. It got so bad when I was a teen that my father put locks on all my drawers and doors that only I had keys to (my parents did have a spare set in the event I lost mine that they— ironically— “lost”).

EX: I have a pair of Levi jeans that I bought with a gift card from my grandparents. Levi’s are— well— expensive. Earlier last year, before she went back to school after break, I noticed they were missing. I called her and told her I was angry about this. She insisted I was “insane” and that she would never take them and that I likely misplaced them or lost them (I do have memory problems, combo of ADHD and whatever causes my migraines). My father helped me look for them. He even looked through her stuff. They *were not* in the house. But 5 months later after she came home from college, I found them under my bed (they were not previously under my bed). “See, I told you that you lost them.”

So, I told her that she needed to find a way to return the bag to me and that under no circumstances was she allowed to leave the state with it (if she did, there wasn’t much I would’ve or could’ve done about it, so I was hoping this ultimatum would work). And I said that if she didn’t return it, I would tell our mom about all the unused, unopened pregnancy tests she was stocking and hiding in her room (found when I went looking for spoons as she hides my mother’s spoons after using them). She told me “You’re insane. It’s just a bag,” but she did mail it back to me and I got it in time for work that Monday.

My mother says I was justified in demanding it back (she doesn’t know about the unused tests), but she is often petty and demanding and blows up or snaps at the smallest things. So, I am concerned that I made a big deal of nothing or that I took it too far.

AITAH? ESH?

What are these acronyms?

[truecrimecrystals]

Lori Paige has been missing since June 3rd, 2023. The then-12-year-old girl was last seen in Tallahassee, Florida, on Continental Court near Ocala Road. Lori never returned home and has not been seen or heard from again. 

When Lori was first reported missing, investigators initially did not suspect foul play because, according to reports, "all signs pointed to a voluntary runaway." Lori had run away before, about a month prior to her June 2023 disappearance. It appears that she was only missing for a short amount of time after her first time running away. This time around, though, Lori has not returned home, and police have yet to find any sign of the young girl.

Unlike most preteens and teens, Lori does not have any social media accounts - which makes it impossible for investigators to track down a digital footprint. Still, investigators believe that Lori was in contact with someone prior to her disappearance who might have helped her run away. A report on Lori's case from February 2024 states that friends helped her during her previous runaway. However, it does not appear that investigators have been able to identify anyone who helped Lori run away in June 2023. 

The Tallahassee Police Department investigated over 1,200 missing juvenile cases between the years of 2021 and 2023. As of February 2024, only seven of those cases are still open - Lori's being one of them. Tallahassee Police Detective Anna Lee Drake told reporters that Lori's case is the only case she's worked involving a missing juvenile "who has been missing this long without any contact." As such, there are increased concerns for Lori's safety and wellbeing.

There is very little information available about Lori's disappearance. The events on the day she left home are unknown. At the time of this posting, Lori's family has not publicly spoken about her disappearance. In fact, it appears that the only person who has spoken out is Margaret Summers - a teaching assistant from Lori's middle school. 

Summers has spread awareness about Lori's disappearance on social media and has spoken to reporters about the case. She also expressed that she does not believe Lori has stayed away for this long on her own. In February 2024, Summers told reporters, "I do not believe for a second that she’s sustaining herself. There’s adults who can’t even make it on their own."

The FBI is now involved in the search for Lori. Detectives from both the FBI and the Tallahassee Police Department have appealed to the public for anyone with information about Lori's disappearance to come forward. If you have any information that could help the investigation, please submit a tip.

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

My Big Shot, My Star

🖤 A Valentine's Day Special 🖤

Summary || [Steve Harrington X Female Reader SMUT] Your movie star boyfriend takes you out for a night on the town in Hollywood. 

Movie Star!Steve AU | 5.6k words | NO BETA/SELF-EDITED, Old Hollywood/1950s AU, Valentine’s Day Theme, Prompt: “Day Five + Steve Harrington + Presents,” LuMax, Established Relationship, Lavish Gift Giving, Kisses, Loss of Virginity, Steve Is Barely Experienced, Premarital Sex (GASP), Tender and Outdoor Sex, Contraceptive, Fingering (female receiving). 

More Valentines! | Other Keery Fics | Main Masterlist 

You helped Max Mayfield with the rouge on her cheeks and her lips as the time to leave was overshot by a minute. You had both gasped when a black limousine had showed up at your hotel doorstep that morning, and a well-dressed man had informed you that Steve– your Steve– had sent it to bring you to him. Of course you climbed into the back seat and let Max explore with a giddy expression as she pocketed a few of the decadent treats loaded up in the car. 

"So you really are dating a famous movie star, aren't you?," she teased. 

"Well, I…" you stuttered and tugged on your ear nervously. 

You knew Steve before he moved to Los Angeles with his parents. The Harringtons were always well off, but ever since Steve began appearing in films alongside the likes of Clark Gable and Humphrey Bogart, you and the rest of Hawkins had believed that they were swimming in luxury. Steve had always made it sound more humble than that when he talked about it on the phone, but you were beginning to wonder if that was entirely accurate. 

The drive was long but comfortable and you were excited to see Steve in the flesh at long last. Your family had been skeptical about allowing you to travel so far away (and for a boy), but you managed to convince them that it was safe and that Max would need a chaperone with her own boyfriend Lucas Sinclair (who is in California for the year to be mentored by Steve for basketball tryouts). 

But you had no intention of spending Valentine's Day babysitting a pair of young teens when you could be with your Steve, alone for the first time since he visited (last year!). Max had eagerly assured you that she could handle herself and Lucas in Hollywood with only Steve’s hired man as chaperone and promised to check back into the hotel before dark. 

Excitement bubbled in your stomach as the limousine parked outside of a beautiful gated home. There was a gorgeous Lincoln Continental waiting outside as well with the man of the hour sat on the car hood and waiting for you. You threw your arms around his neck and squealed, so glad finally even to smell his natural musk that you missed so dearly. 

"Oh, Steve!" 

His arms crushed you to his chest and your feet stopped touching the ground for a second. Your skirt swirled as he spun around with you, careful to set you down gently before kissing the breath out of you. When your lips parted, Steve stared down at you with a goofy smile and warmth in his eyes. 

“Not a single day has gone by where I didn’t wish you were in my arms again.” Steve’s words stole all the air out of your lungs for the second time.  

“I’ve missed you, too,” you said as you fought back tears. “Please don’t make me cry, my mascara...” 

Steve laughed and swept you into another hug, distracting you from your feelings by chattering away about a new movie that he's filming for (something about baseball). When he was sure you weren't going to burst into tears anymore, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Did you like your gifts?” 

Steve flicked one of your earrings, and you took your own hand to touch the matching necklace at your throat. 

“Yes, I did. Thank you,” you replied sheepishly. “You don’t have to spend all that money on me, though, surely...” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve scoffed and waved a hand as if clearing the air. “Don’t worry about my pockets! I won’t say how much it cost but know this: I may be a man of means but I also have a sense for modesty. Isn’t that what you love about me?” He waited for you to chuckle before he said, “besides, I like spoiling you. You’re supposed to let me do that on the holiday!” 

You relented easily and delivered more kisses to his handsome nose. Steve ushered you into the car for a late lunch or early dinner in town. The sun was still about an hour from setting, but the Hollywood strip dazzled you. Well dressed men and women walked in beautiful clothes in the warmish weather and every business was fancy and upbeat, even the streets were paved gorgeously and became a vision! 

Steve took you into a nice diner (through the front doors, no less) and immediately you were seated by a host. A booth with vinyl seats and carved mahogany accents. You looked around nervously but most of the patrons seemed to be wrapped up in their own conversations and food tasting. 

“Relax,” Steve soothed you with a thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “You’re safe with me, okay? Nobody is going to bother us.” 

You ordered your food together and tried to catch-up on the past. There were things about Hawkins that you just couldn’t talk about over the phone and it was great to be able to share things with him in person. Steve asked about the other kids in Hawkins, and you told him that Mike, El, Will, and Dustin were loving Hawkins high and had been taken under the wing of a friendly outcast named Eddie Munson. Steve in turn told you a bit more about the parties he got invited to– you thought he might have down played some of the antics that the Hollywood people would get tangled in– but he also admitted he had a much better time making friends with an ice cream slinger named Robin Buckley, rather than the Hollywood Star’s wealthy children. 

The food was delicious and filled your belly to bursting. You were laughing as he told you about how clumsy but brilliant Robin could be when suddenly Steve looked over your shoulder and his face went flat with shock. 

“What is it?” You turned around and saw a large man approaching your table. There was some commotion behind him– a crowd of people, lights flashing, questions being shouted. Steve slumped back in his seat and looked like he wanted to disappear. 

“M-Mr. Mannix,” he stuttered, then stood abruptly to shake the man’s hand. “Sweetheart, this is-is one of my bosses, Eddie Mannix.” 

Mr. Mannix glances at you with a stoic face. He’s well dressed like most everybody else in Hollywood. Tailored suit and matching hat but he doesn’t look like a star, he looks like a working man, a man who gets shit done and who nobody messes with. 

“Ma’am,” he tipped his hat almost as a second thought, then turned back to Steve. Mannix was so tall and broad that he blocked all of the natural light coming from the big windows at the front of the diner and cast a shadow over your beau. “Never seen you taking a girl out, Harrington. Wasn’t sure you were the type.” 

Steve subtly wiped his palms on his pants. “This is my girlfriend, sir. Of quite a few years, actually, sh-she’s visiting from my hometown for Valentine’s day.” 

Mannix made a surprised noise and returned his gaze to you. It wasn’t friendly, per say, but it wasn’t reproachful either. “Well if you don’t want to be in the papers tomorrow, I suggest you both slip out back. There’s vultures here for a 'candid' interview of another young couple, and I can’t have you take up all the spectacle, you understand.” 

Your blood ran cold as you realized he must have meant paparazzi. It was an aspect of Steve’s life that he didn’t talk about much, but he did seem to hate. What counted for news around these parts could sometimes be more akin to gossip and rumors, and you wanted no part of that, not at all. 

Steve’s face grew serious– he must have thought the same as you– but before he could try to flag down a host, Mannix stopped him. 

“I’ve already paid your bill. Left a generous tip, too,” Mannix winked and gestured with his chin towards the door. “Go on, lovebirds, get outta here.” 

Steve thanked him breathlessly and took your hand to help you up. Mannix positioned himself like a shield, protecting you from the photographers until you were ready to dip and even dumping his hat on Steve’s head with a firm ‘I’ll be wanting that back,” as he did. Steve threw his arm around you firmly and rushed out, not slowing down until you were far enough from the diner to break free of the hustle. The sun set and painted the sky as the darkness of night crept in from the opposite horizon and washed you both in warm shadow. 

“That was close. I’m so sorry, doll,” Steve simpered and pulled your face towards his to kiss your forehead. “Mr. Mannix isn’t a bad guy, really, he’s just not a people person.” 

Perhaps not, but he had saved you both. “I’ll be sure to thank him before I leave. I mean, I love being yours, Steve, but the way those tabloids talk about girls… even the prettiest ones…” 

“I know,” he petted your back, and Mannix’s hat flopped down at an angle, almost obscuring his pretty eyes. “Let’s get you in the car, okay? I’ve got a few more things to show you.” 

As you walked, you heard Steve muttering determinedly to himself. “Someday, things are going to be different. And you and I will never have to be afraid of hateful, ignorant people ever again.” 

…

The heater in the car worked wonders for your chilly hands and you lamented not bringing a sturdy coat with you. Of course Steve loaned you his and discreetly left Mannix’s hat on the dashboard. 

“Why’d he do that anyways?,” Steve griped, trying to fix his eternally perfect hair. 

“Because with that do, they’d notice you in a dark room,” you laughed. His hair was too iconic, it had made headlines for months after just a small role as an extra in a film. Girls across the country swooned at the sight of him, even though it was longer than respectable men wore it, and that fact had launched the career his parents had so desperately sought for him to have. 

“I suppose.” Steve stopped the car at the foot of a hill that made you gasp. “Yeah, the Hollywood sign. It’s impressive to look for the first time, I guess, but there’s more I want to show you. You wear those kitten heels like I told you?” 

You gave him the stink eye. “You know I did, you’ve been looking at my legs all afternoon!” 

Steve tilted his head and gave you a conspiratorial wink. “Well I can do far more than just look, if you want me to.” 

The last thing you were expecting to do on Valentine’s day was hike up a steep hill, but it was worth it when you saw Steve also grabbed a picnic basket from the trunk. He finally let you stop beneath the letter D of the sign and began to unroll a blanket. The area here was flat and bare of the desert brush, almost like he had scoped it out or made it himself. It gave you a perfect view of the sun setting and the lights of the city coming on like their own earthbound stars (and less of a chance of being spotted from below by passersby or vagrants or the heat). 

“Oh, Steve,” you gasped and covered your mouth in awe at the sight of the city. “It’s beautiful…” 

Music filled the air from a portable radio. Steve came up behind you and held you close, watching the horizon himself and swaying gently. He lulled you to the point of dreaminess and kissed your neck until you were weak for him. 

“Are you having a good time, doll?,” he whispered in your ear and made you shiver. 

“Yes,” you whispered back. “Can we stay like this forever?” 

“Not forever, dear,” Steve replied wistfully, then spun you around and danced with you gently. “But we can come back and do it over and over again.” 

…

Lying on the blanket, you didn’t need the jacket or your sweater because Steve’s body heat was enough to warm you. You laid across his chest and watched the stars glitter from miles above and imagined a world where you were both old and simple-living folk, married and lying beneath the constellations of home in Hawkins. Maybe when Steve retired from the moving pictures, he would bring you back to Hawkins and you could raise a family there. Together.

“Darling?” Steve’s voice rumbled beneath your ear, his tie discarded and shirt buttoned down scandalously. 

“Yes?” You lifted your head to look down at him with his hair splayed like a halo. 

“I love you,” Steve said reverently. “I… need you to know that there’s no funny business going on with me when you’re not around. I don’t party with those socialites anymore, and Robin really is just a good friend. I want you to know I would never do something that would break your heart because my own belongs to you and you alone, okay?” 

Your face stung for a moment and you couldn’t meet his eyes. You drew circles over the button keeping his shirt from opening further. “Well it sounds like you probably already know I was worried about it. But seeing you today? Well… now I'm certain more than ever before that you do have eyes only for me.” 

“That’s exactly right,” he exclaimed, and pulled you into a deep kiss that made you light headed. “Eyes for only you, my love. No one could ever captivate me the way you do– understand me and love me the way that you do. This year has been so hard for me because I couldn’t be with you. I would give up everything if you asked me, doll, just say the words.” 

You buried your face against his chest where the hair there tickled your chin and soaked up some of the tears from your wet lashes. “I won’t go that far, Steve. But what I will do, is love you with all I have like you do for me. I trust you to be loyal and honest for me, dear, and I… I know you’ll do right by me.” 

Steve rolled you onto your back and kissed you soundly, trailing his lips over your eyes and down your throat until he was pulling the neckline of your dress aside and sucking on the skin there. You tilted your head further and further back and lost yourself in him, feeling heat gather in your face and deep in your gut as his hands explored other parts of your body like a man starved. 

“Is this alright?” Steve’s hand smoothed up your bodice, gentle pressure brushing over your clothed breast and making you gasp. 

You nodded and he continued, kissing over them and drawing his hand down. Self consciously, you gathered your skirt into your hands and pulled it higher. The cool twilight air breezed over your thighs and Steve’s wandering hand found purchase there, massaging you where no one, not even him or yourself, had ever dared touch you before. 

You were left panting beneath his ministrations, wanting more as your awareness of the world around you shrunk until just the two of you remained. Carefully, Steve laid on top of you, his hips spreading your thighs apart naturally and fitting like he was always meant to be there. As he kissed your lips, you kissed him back fervently and did your own exploring. You unbuttoned his shirt further and felt over the expanse of smooth, freckled skin and the sparse hair on his chest. 

When he rolled his hips into yours, you felt something pressing into your body that made you mewl. 

Steve lifted his head so you couldn’t reach him and proposed a new query. “I have a condom in the basket... do you want to…?” 

Your heart pounded hard in your chest. "Yes." 

Steve didn't know he was holding his breath until he heard your answer. Back in Hawkins, the boy was happy to wait until you were ready, especially given his first time had been with Nancy Wheeler who for one reason or another had not been eager to do it again. He wanted to do it right with you. Make your toes curl and beg him for more. 

He got up just to grab it and gave you room to breathe (in case you changed your mind). “Oh, I also have wine in here. Some cheese and bread if you want.” 

“I’m good,” you patted your stomach, “that dinner was exquisite.” 

“It was, wasn’t it?” Steve came back and returned to his position, laying the wrapped rubber next to your head. “For later, just want to kiss you a little longer…” 

You quickly lost yourself in his attention. His shirt became untucked and the zipper on the back of your dress lowered but it was not drawn down completely. His taste and his smell became indistinguishable from your own, and after a moment, you felt his hand return up the skirt of your dress, under your slip, and your knees pushed further apart until his calloused fingertips brush over your belly just above the waistband of your panties. 

Nervousness trembled in your chest as he drew the cotton panties down your legs, but Steve never took his eyes off your face and he covered your nudity with his own warm body as soon as they were free. Your hand followed his with a light touch on the wrist as he averted his eyes just before finally touching your bare womanhood. 

The contact was entirely expected and yet you jerked in surprise anyways. He checked your face for assurance and did it again, testing the waters and making sure you were enjoying it. The contact made your mind race with your heart and your sex ache and it was all so exciting, especially when you sighed pleasantly and a triumphant smirk appeared on his face. 

“Feel good?” 

“Yes,” you replied in a voice so dark and different from your natural one that it startled you. “Yes, Steve, yes.” 

Steve shushed you and resumed his passionate kisses along your neck. His cool fingers collected slick and massaged your womanhood until they matched in temperature, and then he– 

You moaned and threw your head back, instinctively trying to close your legs but unable to with the grown man laying between them. The intrusion of his finger inside you was beyond strange, but after a moment of stillness and placating kisses to your face, you relaxed around it and could almost forget it was there. When he began to move it, penetrating you back and forth and back again, you acclimated to the sensation rather quickly. At the second finger, you winced. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered in your ear. 

You hummed back and felt slightly embarrassed when you realized where the unusual squelching noise was coming from. “Is… is that, me?!” 

Steve chuckled, “it is. Don’t be embarrassed, doll, it means you like me. It means I’m doing a good job, and your body is preparing for me.” 

Preparing for what? And then you remember the condom on the blanket waiting to be used and the bulge in his pants that hadn’t gone away, just pressed into and sometimes rutting against your inner thigh. You wrapped your arms around Steve’s neck for comfort. The new touching was good, but would the pleasure last? Would it really hurt? 

“Steve?” You must have sounded scared because he stopped all movement and looked deep into your eyes, searching. “...I’m ready. I want you. Please.” 

Steve’s eyelids grew heavy, and he slipped his fingers out of your channel to sit himself up and take the condom. For a moment, you hesitated on what to do but decided that watching the stars was mundane now. You sat up on your elbows and watched him work, unsure if you would make him uncomfortable seeing as how he would need to take his clothes somewhat off. You closed your legs and rubbed them together to gather warmth and feel pleasure return at the apex of your thighs, as if you were strumming your own instrument. 

Your boyfriend worked quickly and carefully. If he was bothered when you bit your lip and stared at the sight of his manhood, he didn’t show it. He just stroked his hand over his shaft and rolled the condom down, sheathing it in an opaque plastic or latex. Then he helped you part your legs again and repositioned himself at your entrance. 

“Are you sure, baby?,” he said even as his desire was clear as day, “we can stop now if you want.” 

You shook your head no and braced yourself. You did not want to stop. You followed his instructions, breathing and relaxing and tapping his shoulder when you needed him to pause. And then his warm hips were pressed flush into yours and his grunting turned into a relieved sigh. 

“Is that it? Er, is that all of it?” Your face flushed hot at your own words and Steve pecked a kiss to your lips. 

“That’s the whole thing, yeah,” he replied. And then his started moving, thrusting shallowly into you and you watched his face go slack with an occasional tick and grunt. “Oh, sweetheart, fuck– I’m sorry I don’t mean to cuss, but– fuck, you feel so good…” 

That warmth in your lower belly was beginning to coil. It was good, it felt good and making Steve feel good felt good to you, too. You had never seen this side of him, only caught glimpses of it when you would make-out in secret at the drive-in theater back home. He was making noises you had never heard him make before– he was making you make noises you had never made before! And as he moved faster, he also moved a little harder, but not to hurt you, it was good and he was deeper somehow, and the mound above his shaft was massaging some part of you that made the coil tighten faster and harder like his thrusts until– 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck–” Steve’s head dropped to your shoulder and he stopped moving all together. The tightening coil which had felt about ready to snap instead eased back some, leaving you tingly and pulsing with the beat of your heart. 

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “What happened?” 

Steve’s body went slack and he lifted his head, now sporting a drunken and sated look on his face. “I finished,” he said with a lazy smile. 

“Oh.” That was sex. And you had finally had it with the love of your life, no less. It was a lot of fun! Being tangled with each other, sharing pleasure like one being, giving and receiving the most coveted form of love. You should be happy and satisifed too... but the twinge of disappointment that blossomed in your chest… well it confounded you. 

“What’s wrong?,” Steve asked. 

He had already fixed your clothes back into place and bundled you in his jacket to keep you warm before fixing his own clothes. You didn’t see what he did with the condom but you have a suspicion that it was simply flung somewhere on the empyy hill side. And he looked really sad right now, like a puppy left outside just as storm clouds gather overhead. 

“Nothing,” you answered enthusiastically, “it was perfect, you were perfect! I’ve never felt so much pleasure in my entire life. I can see what all the fuss was about!” Your laughter was a little hollow and you could tell that Steve was not totally convinced, even if he was playing along. “We should get back. I want to make sure Max and Lucas are safe. You can stay the night with us girls if you want, there’s two beds.” 

Steve nodded his head distractedly and began to pick things up and packed them back into the picnic basket as neatly as he could. “Actually, I was thinking the same thing, except for you and Max to stay with me.” 

…

Steve drove to the hotel and collected the kids. Lucas and Max were so quiet in the backseat that you kept glancing at them through the mirrors to check on them, but they didn’t look like they had been fighting, they were just lounging sleepily with their hands folded together on the cushion between them. A part of you worried momentarily that they might have gotten up to the same adult antics as yourself and Steve, but then you dismissed it and returned your attention to massaging Steve’s right hand. If they had or they hadn’t, it wasn’t for you to know. 

“Oh,” Steve said as you all walked together towards his home-- a certifiable mansion-- and he tapped his forehead as if to sell that whatever thought he had just had was genuinely forgotten. “I do have one more surprise for you! All of you.” 

He steered everyone around the side of the house through a beautiful garden. 

“What it is,” Max asked, but before any answer could be given, Lucas looked through a large, picturesque window and another equally big window out to the backyard, and screamed. 

“HOLY SHIT! WILL! MIKE! EL! DUSTIN!” 

The boy bounded away like a track star to the swimming pool, where four excessively happy kids were cheering and smacking the ground noisily with pool noodles. Lucas tackled a screaming Dustin into the pool, and Max broke away excitedly to meet El for a wet hug. Mike hopped into the pool to join in the fun, and Will hugged Max too before inviting her inside to get a swimsuit. 

Stunned, you blinked a hundred times to see if you were dreaming. “Steve, I can't believe you did this!” 

You tore your eyes away from the happy reunion to find your boyfriend pridefully stuffing his hands in his pockets and shrugging with faux humility. “No big deal. I missed them myself, the little rats. They almost got themselves caught when you were being dropped off earlier for our dinner date! Would have been a bummer to ruin the surprise so soon...” 

The kids were unbelievably rowdy, but you paid them no more mind as you pulled your boyfriend into a thankful kiss. Steve quickly steered you inside, but not for a bathing suit like the kids had for Max (Lucas had already ruined his nice clothes and decided he needed none). Steve assured you his parents were out of the country and the house was so big that the kids would get lost before they found the two of you. And he showed you to his roomy bedroom with the forgotten bottle of wine from the picnic basket and some crystal glasses.  

“I couldn’t imagine a better Valentine’s day,” you marveled. “Or a better Valentine, at that.” 

Steve blushed and kneeled to help you out of your shoes. “Just wanted to give some love back.” 

He discreetly pushed up your mid-calf length skirt and planted a kiss on your knee. “I know that maybe it’s a little soon but… I’ve been dying to see what you look like out of your clothes.” 

You couldn’t fathom why you felt so scandalized by this– he was just inside of you not half an hour ago! But the more you thought about it, the more you became determined to indulge in desires of your own. 

“You first,” you declared and swirled the wine in your glass. 

Taking it as a challenge, Steve stood and began with slow and deliberate movements, undoing his pants without taking his eyes off of you. You watched him, enraptured. This time, his shirt came all the way off and landed on the carpet. He helped you stand by the hand and set your emptied glass aside, then slid your sweater down your shoulders. His lips returning to your neck was becoming a familiar feeling yet it never failed to leave your skin tingling. 

You turned around and brushed your hair aside to offer up the zipper, feeling the dress loosen quickly, and you choked briefly as you felt your brazier loosening, too. You allowed both materials to slide down your arms and shivered over every tiny touch of Steve’s hands and his sweet smelling breath on your back. 

He tugged on your hips until your body was flush against him. “So beautiful…” 

You removed yourself from his grasp and slipped out of your underwear. You laid yourself on his bed half beneath the covers, feeling exposed but powerful and safe with him watching. As Steve was taking off his pants (all the way now), you grew bold and reached between your legs to see if you could find that spot that he had unconsciously stimulated earlier that created that coiling feeling in your belly and your legs and in between.

You found it quickly and began to massage it more. You discovered that circular motions provided the best stimulation as your pleasure began to build anew. 

Steve divested himself of the last of his clothes and climbed into bed with you, looking mischievous. “What are you playing with down there?” 

You flushed hot and bit the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to say, so opting to say nothing at all.

“Come on, let me see..” he pulled the covers back and looked down. 

His mouth hung agape as he saw you were actually touching your most intimate area. He scooted in closer to you and laid a curious hand on your thigh, waiting for permission. “May I?”

You moved your own toying hand a little and sighed pleasantly as he took over, copying your motions exactly and applying some pressure as well. He was working you up faster than before and he loved the way you were falling apart for him, getting more comfortable with intimacy and letting him know just how good he was making you feel. 

Steve covered your mouth with his own and swallowed a few of your moans. He stuffed his fingers inside you like before and pumped them, nipping your bottom lip as you dug your nails into his arm. 

“Please don’t stop, Steve…” 

Moonlight glinted off of the pool and danced in waves upon the ceiling as your moans climbed higher in pitch. But you felt a plateau forming and your disappointment came back full force as after a few minutes, Steve seemed to be slowing down. You just knew you needed one more thing to get you... somewhere, and then you realized suddenly that when he had changed the position of his hand, he had also stopped playing with that special spot. 

“Steve, Steve.” You looked desperate and tried very hard to convey what you needed, as you were unable to speak coherently. And sweet, clever Steve caught on to your meaning, and without stopping the deep thrust of his fingers, he used his thumb to make those circles on that spot again as best he could. It was enough and you feel that tight coil snap. 

You let out a gasping scream as your whole body convulsed and twitched rhythmically. Your legs snapped closed and trapped Steve’s hand between your thighs, and you writhed with pitiful and lewd noises until your soul returned to your body and left you completely drained. Steve stared at you for a long time until he gently eased his soaked fingers out and let you rest more comfortably. 

It took him several minutes to collect himself while you were falling asleep beside him. Finally, he muttered, “so that’s what’s supposed to happen… hmph, well that's news to me...”

More Valentines! | Main Masterlist

First time with Steve Harrington's GOTTA be top ten on my list, y'all. He is so fucking wonderful and cute and FIFTIES Steve would be hella wholesome. Leave a like, comment, or reblog to let me know if you like these and want more!

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Power FM Power Music 1998 Pop / Adult Contemporary / Pop-Rock / Hard Rock / Blues-Rock

Holy hell, folks. Here's something that really exemplifies some of that true, spin-the-wheel, anything-goes, compilation madness. This is a release from EMI's South Korean subsidiary, with an aesthetic that, sure as shit, presents itself as an ephemeral Now That's What I Call Music!-type of affair, but in actuality, is a hybrid slate of about half contemporary mid-to-late 90s hits from the US, UK, and continental Europe, and half a completely inexplicable assortment of songs from both the 70s and early 90s...?!?

So, a bunch of songs on this are good, but having them on the same album is definitely a total head-scratcher; like, Natalie Imbruglia's great radio pop classic, "Torn," and Radiohead's brilliantly dark and cavernous "Exit Music (for a Film)" happen to appear alongside The Knack's irresistibly catchy—and also mind-numbingly stupid—power pop smash, "My Sharona," as well as an over six-and-a-half-minute live version of Thin Lizzy guitarist Gary Moore's "Parisienne Walkways" from 1993???

But the true coup de grace here comes towards the end, and I will tell you all this much: you will *never*, in your life, *ever* be prepared enough to experience anything quite like the transition that takes place on this album between the selections of the sweet piano pop of Lou Reed's "Perfect Day" and the plainly terrible German Eurodance of La Bouche's "You Won't Forget Me." Whoever decided to wreak this havoc should really be working for the CIA or something, because you *thoroughly* fucked my head up with that brief sequence there.

And now, let's spend the rest of this post by...showing some love...to Robyn and her unfairly somewhat forgotten hit, "Show Me Love," which is *not* to be confused with the early 90s diva house jam of the same title by the similarly named Robin S. (it's all a bit confusing, I know).

Every single 90s female pop playlist that's ever been curated has always come with Britney and Christina on it, but someone who's more likely to be missing from those sets is their direct Swedish predecessor, Robyn. Robyn's claim to fame these days is as a global vocal EDM superstar, but in her younger days, she was a teen pop sensation who never really quite caught on in the States. She managed to land a pair of back-to-back top-ten pop hits between 1996 and 1997, but then quickly faded into US obscurity. However, she happened to be produced by the same Swedish teen pop stable—Cheiron Studios—that would soon make Britney into a superstar herself, and they'd also churned out hits for the Backstreet Boys by then as well.

Blond, short-haired Robyn definitely didn't present nearly as sexily as Britney would, and her lyrics weren't as playfully tempting as something like Christina's "Genie in a Bottle" either, but "Show Me Love" was still a terrific late 90s teen pop bop that predated both of those icons' own landmark debuts. And you can totally hear the smacky drum track and rhythm of "Quit Playing Games (With My Heart)," "As Long as You Love Me," and "I Want It That Way" on it too, but I would argue that it actually has a much richer, fuller, and sleeker sound than that trio of enormous Backstreet Boys hits. It has a warm and dubby bassline, great string pads, an ever-so-subtly whistling g-funky synth at certain points, and above all else, an infectiously catchy chorus. Just such an oft-forgotten midtempo pop earworm that deserves way more remembrance than it's received over the years. And same goes for Robyn's other US Hot 100 hit, "Do You Know (What It Takes)," too, by the way.

So, overall, a very strange late 90s South Korean comp here that doesn't actually have any Korean talent on it whatsoever, but is still a fun, yet seemingly very random collection of tunes. And it has one of my absolute favorite teen pop tunes of the late 90s on it too, the ever-underappreciated "Show Me Love," by Robyn.

Highlights:

Natalie Imbruglia - "Torn" Spice Girls - "Say You'll Be There" Radiohead - "Exit Music (for a Film)" The Knack - "My Sharona" Gary Moore - "Parisienne Walkways" Sarah McLachlan - "Building a Mystery" Robbie Williams - "Angels" Lou Reed - "Perfect Day" Robyn - "Show Me Love" Vanessa-Mae - "I'm a Doun"

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Sometimes We Get Together With Friends and Play Catch-Up

Ok, so I didn't actually go through the all-too-common Greek and Roman mythology phase that lots of pre-teen kids and a startling number of future history majors do. I got caught in fairy tales and dragons, so I absolutely missed the Percy Jackson books as they were coming out. I just wasn't interested. Then I had a classmate in Continental Literature in undergrad and every sentence out of her mouth for that entire 16-week semester was "Well AHKSHUALLY, in Percy Jackson..." and at that point I you couldn't have gotten me to read those books at gunpoint.

A dear friend of mine also missed the Percy Jackson books, so we decided to read it together. Y'all...I have THOUGHTS. Let's talk Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief.

SPOILER WARNING. I will spoil this book, so if you haven't finished this almost 15-year-old children's book and care about spoilers, catch us on the flip side.

Ok, so first and foremost: I can absolutely see why these books are beloved. If you were a Greek mythology enthusiast between ages 9 and 13, I can absolutely see why you'd inhale this book. It's also quite well-written, even at the sentence level, which is not always the case with middle grade books, where plot can occasionally overtake writing style.

The characters and plot were also on point, with a lovely balance of plot action to development. Grover and Annabeth had great development and the tension to friendship balance with Percy was excellent.

I also absolutely love Sally going "yes, let's turn my dickhead, abusive husband into stone and then make fucking BANK selling him as a statue to the 'super-ugly neorealism' enthusiasts." That was just GOOD.

I would also like to give this book major kudos for pulling off "everyman: for kids!" really well, in contrast to lots of chosen one and super special genius/jock/[insert category that only a limited number of kids can relate to here]. I think this would have spoken to so many more kids than other titles that were floating around in the early 2000s, and that is so, so important for kids' self-esteem and self-worth. I am never not grateful for books that made kids in a really challenging point in their lives feel seen and understood and perhaps even brave or strong or full of potential that they had the power to tap into.

So all that said, I think overall The Lightning Thief is a net positive for the world, and Rick Riordan has been a hella net positive for publishing and children's literature.

I do also have a pretty key issue with this book, and the issue is also just baffling to me. Rick Riordan rather famously said that

Percy was his way of telling his son, "Learning differences don't mean there's anything wrong with you. In fact, it is a mark of being very special indeed.” It was a message he says Haley “had no problem believing.” Seeing himself in fiction “empowered him,” Riordan adds. Since The Lightning Thief debuted in 2005, the story’s reach has moved well beyond Riordan’s child, the author’s work now sold in 37 countries. No matter where they live, Riordan notes, “It can be really empowering for kids to know that they are seen and understood. They may behave or process information differently in a classroom setting, but that doesn't mean they are flawed.”

Which is awesome and kids with neurodivergence and "learning differences" should feel seen and supported. This is great, I have no beef with this.

What I DO take issue with in this book is the truly baffling prejudice against physical disability and the reiteration of some genuinely harmful disability tropes, including a variation on disability drag.

Even in 2005, using "crippled" to describe people with physical disabilities was absolutely uncool, yet "crippled" is the terminology that is used throughout the book. Robert McRuer wouldn't publish his seminal Crip Theory: Cultural Signs of Queerness and Disability until 2006, so it wouldn't be realistic to expect Riordan to use "cripped" instead, but literally ANYTHING ELSE than crippled would be nice, because that word sets my teeth on edge. In this vein, we also get Annabeth leaning into the pervasive idea that disability and beauty cannot exist together, and the book does not check her or correct her, suggesting a tacit agreement. Here's Annabeth's contribution to disparaging physical disability:

There was literally no reason to connect what is implied to be an orthopedic disability with handsomeness or a lack thereof. The two have basically nothing to do with each other unless we're leaning into the moralizing about how disability is a visible sign of moral ugliness. That is an old, OLD disability trope, and we hate to see it because it moralizes bullshit beauty aesthetics and suggests that if you are physically disabled, you cannot be beautiful. Like, I cannot imagine being a physically disabled kid and reading this in a book and not being just absolutely crushed. Like...a pretty girl in a book has just said that she (and in a kid's mind, the leap to "and any other pretty girl" is less a leap and more the logical next step) will never find you handsome. That would be devastating.

Ok, so strictly speaking, "disability drag" is a term that describes the Hollywood predilection for casting abled actors to play disabled characters. That's not strictly what is happening in this book, but it's an easier shorthand than "character is faking a disability for [reasons]." The fact that Grover and Chiron are faking physical disabilities to "pass" for mortals is genuinely harmful.

PEOPLE IN THE REAL WORLD RIGHT NOW THINK THIS IS WHAT DISABLED PEOPLE IN THE REAL WORLD DO. AND THOSE ASSHOLES MAKES LAWS AND POLICIES THAT MAKE IT HARDER FOR DISABLED PEOPLE TO ACCESS EVERYTHING FROM EDUCATION TO MEDICAL CARE. Perpetuating the idea that disabled people are actually faking their disabilities to deceive others or game social systems does real harm. It also can lead physically disabled kids to wonder if they might actually be faking (and holy tits, do not make kids self-gaslight, that is so damaging) and/or push past their physical limits and HARM THEMSELVES to prove something to abled adults or peers, and disabled kids do not owe ANYONE proof.

Honestly, the way that Grover and Chiron were faking physical disabilities ruined the reading experience for me. Especially since Percy himself is over here at the beginning of the book calling Grover out for faking a disability because he walks awkwardly but can run faster than most kids. Like...this is just bullshit and harmful. Even though it is "explained" by the fact that Grover is a satyr, the fact that the book doesn't call Percy out for making the worst possible assumptions about a classmate's body isn't something you want kids thinking is acceptable. And I don't think that going "oh, he's a satyr" does anything to show that assuming that your classmates are lying about their physical disabilities or differences is KIND OF SHITTY.

It genuinely baffles me that Riordan has completely split the mind from the body in this book and made having ADHD and dyslexia a sign that you're a hero while simultaneously shaming physical disability. I literally cannot comprehend how this split makes logical sense. I am CONFUSED.

The friend I read this book with and I will be watching the new Percy Jackson series, so I'm curious to see how Disney is going to address this absolute contradiction that is inherently baked into the book.

[ladylilithprime]

Reach And Flexibility

Series: Fluff Is My Jamstiel

Fandom: Supernatural: 

Pairing: Sastimmy/Jamstiel (Jimmy Novak/Sam Winchester/Castiel)

Rating: General to Teen and Up

Tags/Warnings: Witch Sam Winchester, Hunter Novak Brothers, Jimmy and Castiel Are Twins, Brief Allusions to Canon-Typical Violence

Summary:The hunt wrapped up faster than expected, meaning John Castiel and James Constantine Novak can make a detour back to Palo Alto, California, that much sooner. When they actually use the spare key that Sam Wesson gave them, however, they discover that their witch friend is a bit more bendy than either of them realized.

For: @fluffyfebruary challenge!

Prompt: Day 6: Stretch

Read on AO3

HOW OFTEN DO we get to have a hunt go this perfectly?" James Constantine Novak asked as he shoveled a load of dirt back into the open grave of the late, lamented, and now finally put thoroughly to rest Agnes Masterson. A moment later, he yelped as his brother smacked him upwards across the back of his head.

"Don't jinx it," John Castiel Novak scolded as he gripped his own shovel and heaved another lump of dirt into the grave. "What have we learned to never, ever do until we are actually driving away from a completed hunt?"

"Come on, Cas, that was one--"

"Four."

"What?! No way--"

"Terra Haute, Aberdeen, Accokeek--"

"Dude, that wasn't even our fault!"

"We got caught in it, so I'm counting it."

The bickering lasted them through the filling of the grave and the repositioning of the grass over the top to at least somewhat disguise the disturbance, and they only wound down when, after a quick round of rock-paper-scissors to decide who had to drive, they fell into their aged but faithful Lincoln Continental and the engine was cranking to life. "How far do we have to get before we're good to find someplace to sleep?"

"Well," Jimmy said as he tugged a map out of the glove compartment and unfolded it to track their position. "We should probably go at least forty miles, but...."

"But?" Cas prompted just a touch impatiently. He was tired, damn it!

"Well, if you think we can keep going west for about three hundred and sixty-eight miles or so, we're not that far from Palo Alto," Jimmy finished.

Palo Alto. Sam! Cas felt the tiredness slipping away from his shoulders to be replaced by anticipation. It had been almost a month since they had seen the younger man, a month full of being dragged from one hunt to the next around half the country, and Cas had missed him. And if Jimmy was bringing up a four hundred and eight mile drive as an alternative to just going forty miles out of town to find a motel to crash in, Cas would bet his favorite silver blade that his brother had missed Sam too.

"We'll be getting there practically at dawn," he pointed out reluctantly as the mental calculations of distance and miles per hour that their poor old car could handle lined up.

"So we get there in time to have breakfast with Sam and Bones and then see them off to work before we fall into bed for a nap, maybe bring them lunch when we wake up," Jimmy said with a shrug. "And if Old Abe can push it enough that we get there before he's even awake, well, he did give us that key..."

"...and scolded us the last time we showed up when he was still at work and didn't make use of it," Cas finished, letting his forehead fall forward onto the steering wheel. "Of course."

It was all too easy, recalling the incident and Sam's exasperation upon finding the brothers sitting on his doorstep still dirty and ragged from the ghoul hunt they had just concluded. He felt an echo of that bloom of warmth that had swelled in his chest when he had realized that when Sam had told them to make themselves at home, he had really meant it. That, more than anything, made the decision easy.

"So... home, then?" he said, tasting the word on his tongue and finding it less of an awkward fit than he'd feared. He lifted his head from the steering wheel and looked over to find his brother beaming at him happily.

"Yeah," Jimmy nodded, tension already visibly slipping away from his frame. "Let's go home."

EVEN NEEDING TO stop for gas twice to ensure they weren't coasting into Palo Alto on fumes and to switch drivers after Jimmy got in a brief nap, they managed to coax the Lincoln into making the drive in only five and a half hours. Jimmy grabbed their duffles while Cas detoured to say hello to the grape vines curling on the trellis above the fence around the garden. Cas took the duffles from him when they got to the door so Jimmy could rifle through their keys for the one Sam had given them and, with a deep breath to steady his nerves, unlocked the front door to let themselves in.

The Lincoln's engine rumbled to life and they were on their way.

"Sam? Bones?"

"In the solarium!" a vaguely familiar voice, higher in pitch than Sam's, called back to them. Jimmy and Cas exchanged looks but followed the sound of the voice as it continued, "Would you both please tell Sam that it would make much more sense for me to be doing this in my usual form?"

"Don't even," came the more familiar sound of Sam's voice in an exasperated groan. "Just because the pose name has the word 'dog' in it does not mean you need to be a dog to do it!"

"Yoga poses aren't really chosen with a dog's range of movement in mind anyway," Cas called back to them as Jimmy stifled a snicker.

All thoughts of amusement fell away as the brothers finally reached the beaded curtain and pushed through it to enter the part of the house cheerfully called the "solarium". It was an octagonal room made almost entirely of glass, one that had not been a part of the house's original design but had been added on to a back door at some point before the Novaks had made Sam's acquaintance. The beaded curtain usually hung in front of a sliding door in the one wall that connected to the rest of the house, and was kept closed most of the time. On the far side of the room was another door that led into Sam's greenhouse, where he kept the plants that needed special attention and couldn't quite manage a peaceful coexistence with the rest of his garden.

The solarium itself was hardly devoid of plants, unobtrusive window boxes of lavender or mint against the glass that made for a pleasant aroma in the air. The few times before that Cas had happened upon the room before, there was usually an assortment of large pillows arranged in the middle of the floor like the perfect place for a man and his dog to curl up for a nap. The pillows were still there, but shoved over towards the walls in order to make room for the two yoga mats unrolled across the floor and the two toned and unclothed figures taking up those mats in the middle of a stretch that Cas distractedly identified as an Upward Facing Dog pose.

They both looked up and smiled at the Novaks' entrance, though the woman quickly wrinkled her nose. "You both smell like gasoline and smoke. Did you drive straight here from your last hunt?"

"The prospect of coming home to you both was more attractive than finding a motel to shower and crash in first," Jimmy answered, earning two beaming smiles as the witch and his familiar rolled back out of their stretches and carefully got to their feet. "Although showers would probably be a good idea now. Sorry for any grave dirt we tracked in."

"It'll clean, as will the both of you," Sam said with a shrug as he picked up a robe while the woman gave herself a quick shake and became a much more recognizable golden retriever. "How about you both stash your bags and clean up while I get dressed and start breakfast?"

"That sounds like an excellent plan," Cas agreed.

And if he was now planning for a cold shower, well, nobody else needed to know that.

[abhiruchimall]

A Comprehensive Guide to Spending a Day at Abhiruchi Mall

Abhiruchi Mall in Pune offers an all-in-one destination for shopping, entertainment, dining, and leisure. Whether you’re planning a family outing, a date, or some quality “me time,” the mall provides a diverse range of experiences. Here’s a detailed guide to making the most of your day at Abhiruchi Mall.

Morning: Start with a Delicious Breakfast

Begin your day with a hearty breakfast at the mall’s food court or one of its specialty cafes.

Options for Early Birds: Try traditional Maharashtrian dishes or indulge in continental breakfasts available at select outlets.

Coffee Corners: Sip on a latte or cappuccino to fuel your energy for the day.

Mid-Morning: Explore Shopping Opportunities

With a vast array of stores, Abhiruchi Mall caters to all shopping preferences.

Fashion and Accessories: Browse collections from local and international brands for clothing, footwear, and accessories.

Electronics and Gadgets: Check out the latest smartphones, gadgets, and home appliances at premium outlets.

Unique Finds: Explore boutiques offering artisanal products, handicrafts, and home décor.

For a full list of stores, visit the Abhiruchi Mall website.

Lunch Break: Relish Culinary Delights

Abhiruchi Mall boasts a food court offering a mix of cuisines to suit every palate.

Indian Cuisine: Indulge in regional specialties like biryanis, thalis, or street food.

International Flavors: Try pizzas, burgers, sushi, or pasta from global chains and local restaurants.

Enjoy a satisfying meal at restaurants listed here.

Afternoon: Catch a Movie at City Pride Multiplex

Head to the mall’s renowned City Pride Multiplex for a cinematic treat.

Wide Range of Movies: Enjoy the latest Bollywood, Hollywood, and regional films.

Comfortable Seating: Relax in plush seats and immerse yourself in the ultimate movie-watching experience.

Book your tickets online through the multiplex’s website.

Evening: Fun and Entertainment at the Game Zone

Post-movie, spend time at the kids’ gaming zone or the arcade.

For Kids: Interactive games, rides, and play areas ensure fun for the little ones.

For Teens and Adults: Classic arcade games, virtual reality experiences, and more await thrill-seekers.

Shopping Part Two: Pick Up Essentials or Splurge

If you missed any stores earlier, take this time to finish your shopping.

Grocery Stores: Stock up on daily essentials at the hypermarket.

Luxury Goods: Treat yourself to fine jewelry, perfumes, or premium gadgets.

Dinner: Unwind with a Feast

End your day with a delicious dinner at one of the mall’s restaurants.

Casual Dining: Perfect for families or groups, with diverse menu options.

Fine Dining: Celebrate special occasions at upscale eateries offering gourmet meals.

Check the best dining spots on the Abhiruchi Mall dining page.

Late Evening: Soak in the Ambiance

Before heading home, take a leisurely stroll through the mall.

Seasonal Decorations: During festivals, enjoy the vibrant décor and themed installations.

Photo Opportunities: Capture memorable moments with family and friends at popular photo spots.

Tips for Visitors

Plan Ahead: Check the mall’s website for updates on events, sales, and offers.

Parking: Utilize the multi-level parking for hassle-free entry.

Family-Friendly: Make the most of facilities like stroller rentals and nursing rooms.

Why Abhiruchi Mall is Perfect for a Full Day Outing

Abhiruchi Mall’s comprehensive range of offerings ensures there’s something for everyone. Whether you’re shopping, watching movies, gaming, or dining, the mall provides a well-rounded experience in a convenient location.

Make your next visit memorable by exploring all that Abhiruchi Mall has to offer. For more details, visit their official website.

[ao3feed-mfmm]

The One Love That I Need to Know

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/rRfOdNk by SmlPotatoes Jack takes Phryne on a continental cruise. (Set post-Crypt of Tears--*very* post, and *very* established Phrack. More or less a "clip show" in fanfic form, but with new "clips"!) Words: 7103, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/rRfOdNk

[tomorrowedblog]

Friday Releases for September 22

Friday is the busiest day of the week for new releases, so we've decided to collect them all in one place. Friday Releases for September 22 include EXPEND4BLES, No One Will Save You, Faith Is A Rock, and more.

EXPEND4BLES

EXPEND4BLES, the new movie from Scott Waugh, is out today.

A new generation of stars join the world’s top action stars for an adrenaline-fueled adventure in Expend4bles. Reuniting as the team of elite mercenaries, Jason Statham, Dolph Lundgren, Randy Couture, and Sylvester Stallone are joined for the first time by Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson, Megan Fox, Tony Jaa, Iko Uwais, Jacob Scipio, Levy Tran, and Andy Garcia. Armed with every weapon they can get their hands on and the skills to use them, The Expendables are the world’s last line of defense and the team that gets called when all other options are off the table. But new team members with new styles and tactics are going to give “new blood” a whole new meaning.

No One Will Save You

No One Will Save You, the new movie from Brian Duffield, is out today.

From 20th Century Studios, “No One Will Save You” is an action-packed face-off between Brynn and a host of extraterrestrial beings who threaten her future while forcing her to deal with her past.

Spy Kids: Armageddon

Spy Kids: Armageddon, the new movie from Robert Rodriguez, is out today.

When the children of the world’s greatest secret agents unwittingly help a powerful Game Developer unleash a computer virus that gives him control of all technology, they must become spies themselves to save their parents and the world.

Barber

Barber, the new movie from Fintan Connolly, is out today.

A private investigator (Aidan Gillen) exposes dark secrets and corruption after a wealthy widow’s granddaughter goes missing.

It Lives Inside

It Lives Inside, the new movie from Bishal Dutta, is out today.

Sam is desperate to fit in at school, rejecting her Indian culture and family to be like everyone else. When a mythological demonic spirit latches onto her former best friend, she must come to terms with her heritage in order to defeat it.

Cassandro

Cassandro, the new movie from Roger Ross Williams, is out today.

From Luchador to legend. Don’t miss the inspiring true story that is Cassandro.

The Origin of Evil

The Origin of Evil, the new movie from Sébastien Marnier, is out today.

A woman is sucked into a world of secrets and betrayal as the battle over her estranged father’s massive estate reveals him to be more than the genial patriarch she’d assumed in this twisted satire.

Story Ave

Story Ave, the new movie from Aristotle Torres, is out today.

South Bronx teen Kadir (Asante Blackk) is a gifted visual artist who loses his way following the death of his younger brother. Overcome with grief and struggling with the pressures of school and family, he escapes into the thrilling yet dangerous world of graffiti gangs, seeking an outlet for the creative force threatening to explode out of him. To prove himself and join his neighborhood’s ruling gang, Kadir tries to rob no-nonsense MTA conductor Luis (Luis Guzmán) on the Story Ave subway platform. He is caught off guard when Luis agrees to give Kadir the cash if he’ll sit down to a meal with him. Following their conversation and the delicate, transformative friendship that grows out of it, Kadir sees for the first time how his artistic talent could lead to a better life.

The Continental

The Continental, the new TV series from Greg Coolidge and Kirk Ward, is out today.

The three-part event will explore the origin behind the iconic hotel-for-assassins centerpiece of the John Wick universe through the eyes and actions of a young Winston Scott, as he’s dragged into the Hell-scape of 1970’s New York City to face a past he thought he’d left behind. Winston charts a deadly course through the hotel’s mysterious underworld in a harrowing attempt to seize the hotel where he will eventually take his future throne.

Still Up

Still Up, the new TV series from Steve Burge and Natalie Walter, is out today.

Bonded by insomnia, best friends Lisa and Danny stay connected late into the night and find their way through a world of wonderfully weird surprises as their relationship deepens.

The Bunny Graveyard

The Bunny Graveyard, the new game from Pichon Games, is out today.

The Bunny Graveyard is an episodic horror adventure about a bunny who seeks to find the horrifying truth behind her existence. Immerse yourself in a world of pixel art inspired by GBA and NDS graphics, while unraveling an enthralling story that keeps you hooked!

Faith Is A Rock

Faith Is A Rock, the new album from MIKE, Wiki, and The Alchemist, is out today.

Scarlet

Scarlet, the new album from Doja Cat, is out today.

RIP Human Art

RIP Human Art, the new album from EARTHGANG, is out today.

[hansolmates]

g.p.s - god, parents suck | m

summary; seokjin just wants to enjoy the disney treatment and you are more than happy to deliver pairing; dilf!jin x hotelier!reader genre/warnings; crack, humor, gets a lil emotional, teenage daughter issues, one very minor allusion to a daddy kink LOL, a very vaguely implied sex scene, so CHEESY  w.c; est. 5.1k a/n; wee my first jin fic! this is for @btsghostiewritersnet​ #DynamiteDads event! I was supposed to go to disney this year but sadly miss rona had to cancel our plans so this is just pure self indulgence. as always thank u to @eerieedits​/ @chillingtae​ for the disney dream fic banner!

if you like it give it a bippity-boppity-boop on the like and share buttons! ✨✨✨

“Left, left!” Seokjin cries, holding onto the emergency break for dear life, “not my left, your left!” 

“We’re facing the same way! We have the same lefts!” 

“Clearly not if we’re going right, Sweetheart.” 

“But the GPS says to go right!” 

“In four-hundred feet, keep left at the fork,” Google Maps interrupts pleasantly.  

“That’s it. Kim Yeji, pull over!” 

“But Daaaaaaaaad,” yet his daughter complies, sadly pulling over at the edge of the road. She doesn’t even have to step on the gas, just turns the wheel slightly so she can land slowly, pathetically on the gravel. 

“Angel,” Seokjin says levelly, reaching over to unclick the seatbelt. “I will drive the rest of the way, I gave you time to practice for you have to drive to college but we can’t get on the highway like this.” 

“You never let me do anything.” 

“What, I do! Who let you go to prom in that sequined excuse for a dress?” 

“Uncle Namjoon!” 

“Fine, I’ll give him that! Who let you dye your hair to a crisp—” 

“Uncle Hoseok!” 

“Uncle–” Seokjin is affronted, jabbing the seatbelt in it’s locked position when he gets in the front seat. “Forget it, let’s just have a peaceful drive for the next few hours until we get to the hotel,” he removes Yeji’s phone from the holder, placing it in her lap. 

“Dad,” she waves her phone around, pointing to Google Maps, “you need the GPS to get there.” 

He scoffs, “No, I don’t. We’ve been to Disney plenty of times. I know where we’re going.” 

“Oh yeah? When’s the last time we went to Disney?” 

“When you were two? Three?” 

Yeji relaxes in her seat, not ready to argue with her dad once more. “Alright, lead the way,” she gestures vaguely to the empty parkway, devoid of life for miles. 

Seokjin is undeterred, reaching over the console to pat Yeji’s blonde hair. He turns on the radio, only to be met with the sound of crunchy static and terrible country music. Cutting the radio, he immediately switches to an old Disney CD, telling Yeji to let it go as he pulls into the open road. Reddish dust clouds around the car briefly, ripping against the tires as they drive off to their hotel. 

“Is this the Princess Hotel?” 

“Nope, this is the Prince S Hotel.” 

You can’t help but grin at the way your current customer’s face falls. He’s a handsome thing, all plush and pillowy in the cheeks and lips. Despite his daughter hanging off his arm like a limp noodle—after all it’s past 2AM and they’ve probably been driving for hours—he still manages to look somewhat put-together despite you telling him they’ve got the wrong place. 

“Told you, use the GPS,” her daughter chastises weakly, tucking her cheek in his shoulder. 

His kid’s a pretty girl, kind of reminds you of when you were a teenager. “The Princess Hotel is about an hour away on the other side of the Disney resorts,” you say slowly, noting from the way the girl is swaying on her feet that her father must be equally as tired, “although, I would suggest staying here for the night. Your daughter’s about to fall asleep on my counter.” 

At the pointed look you’re giving the teen, Seokjin puts a protective hand on her slim shoulders. “Yeji-bear, why don’t you lie down for a bit,” he leads her over to a spare couch. “We’ll call our booked hotel,” he says shortly, looking over his shoulder to give you a forced smile. 

Ah, you’ve seen this scene one or two times in your days working at Prince S. A father too prideful to admit he may have messed up just a little with the directions, and a child that probably argued or simmered so hard on the way they’re passed into a stupor on your lobby couch. Tonight, or your early morning is a little special though, you’ve never seen a father as handsome as the one in front of you, exasperatedly calling up their real hotel reservations. 

“What? My reservation has been revoked?” her daughter groans when he jostles around his lap, knocking her head, “how can you do that? Past the time? I thought this was Disney!” 

You drum your nails against the counter, using your other hand to pull up your guest list for the night on the computer. The father, now furrowed in the face, walks up to you and leaves his daughter on the plush couch. 

“One double bedroom for the weekend, please,” the father pulls his cards out, flicking it to your side of the counter. He places down his car keys in the available holder, “I parked out front, you do valet right?” 

With a nod, you get to work. “Take it they weren’t very accommodating?” 

“They gave our hotel room to some Make-A-Wish Foundation kid!” he cries exasperatedly, hands in the air as you patiently book the room. Your eyes linger longer than usual on his driver’s license and ID: Kim Seokjin. Even his driver’s license mugshot looks handsome. He rests his arms against your counter, despondent. “Is it terrible for me to hate on some kid with a terminal illness?” 

“A little,”  you shrug, slipping his keycard under his elbow, “but I mean according to your, Yeji-bear,” you can’t help but giggle at the nickname, “if you used the GPS you’d be at the correct hotel.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Seokjin glares, hauling his and Yeji’s luggage in one hand, “baby, let’s go upstairs c’mon.” 

You watch the small family trudge to the elevators,  sleepily walking forward like zombies. No one spares you a second glance, they never do, so it gives you ample courage to take a look at Kim Seokjin’s toned body. Broad shoulders, a Dorito-trimmed waistline, and long legs that you want to climb up on.

Oh, daddy. 

“Hey,” Yeji pops up on your counter, looking much perkier than she did hours before, “do you have my dad’s car keys?” 

Trying not to raise your brows at your young guest, you give her a smirk, leaning over the counter. A spunky thing, with sharp eyes with a pretty cat-tipped eyeliner shape that has her looking well put-together. You wish you had your shit together as a teenager, you barely have it together now. 

“I do,” you quip, “why?” 

“I wanna get Starbucks,” she says simply, “the pineapple matcha is to die for, and I want to drink as many summer specials as I can before it’s over.” 

“Valid,” you reply, going into your master key to retrieve all the guests’ keys. Taking Seokjin’s from its holder, you note the expensive make. Peering up from your desk, you look at Yeji’s innocent features. Before you place the key in her waiting palm, you snatch it away, “Why do I have the feeling you’re doing something that you’re not supposed to be doing?” 

Yeji tilts her head, “I don’t think it’s any of your business,” 

Sassy. You like it. “Get me a grande matcha frappe and your secret’s safe with me.” 

“Deal.” 

Watching Yeji drive off in the large Hyundai Palisade gives you a little twinge of worry, but you quickly tamp it down to motherly instinct. If you were Yeji’s mom—which you’re definitely not, you’d be worried. Naturally, you feel similarly. 

The hotel phone rings, the red light from 921 blinking on your switchboard. Flipping down the room number you pick up the receiver, “Prince S Hotel, how can I help you?” 

“You do booking, valet, and housekeeping?” Seokjin’s exasperated voice says in your ears, “who would I call if I want breakfast?” 

“That would also be me,” you reply wryly, twisting the curly wire between your fingers, “we advertise ourselves as a hotel for the quality, although we are much smaller with only thirty rooms. Sort of like a bed n’breakfast, getting the true royal treatment.” 

“Would the royal treatment consist of some extra towels and a continental breakfast?” 

“You got it.” 

A little cliché of you to do the whole “whistle while you work” segment—a lacy apron to make sure your uniform doesn’t get dirty, a spot of coffee to keep you peppy and setting everything up on a gold trimmed cart. You didn’t think you’d see Seokjin again, especially after how upset he was about his room. 

With a little rap on his door, Seokjin invites you inside to set up. Their room overlooks the valley as opposed to the busy roads, so it’s a perfect way to rise with the sun. He immediately reaches for the coffee as you drag your little cart in, completely ignoring the cream and sugar on the side. After a long sip, he moans in pleasure. 

“Ah,” he exhales, a sound that has you teeming. You grip the handlebars a little tighter than usual, “Maybe it was fate that we ended up here.” 

“Maybe,” you fight the urge to bite your lip, because Seokjin has no idea how cliché of a line that is. He isn’t even speaking directly at you, talking in front of the sun like it’s his morning routine. “Say, have you seen Yeji around?” 

“Ah,” you shug, pretending to be oblivious, “I think she went out for a walk.” 

He turns to you, giving you a quivering brow, “She hates walking. Probably calling her friends in Korea or something.” 

Of course she doesn’t like walking, you think, that’s why she took your car for some overpriced drinks. 

Instead, you place the fresh pancakes and sides on the guest table, making sure everything is organized and in order. You place the towels atop the haphazardly made bed, making sure to put two mints on top. It isn’t customary to include mints, but you think the mints your hotel has taste great and deserve to be shared around more often than not. 

“So, it looks like you’re ready for Disney,” you remark, taking note of his outfit. He has on blush mid-thigh shorts, stretchy and made from a canvas fabric that looks airy and comfortable. Around his neck is a little portable fan, and on his head is an old Mickey baseball cap. 

“Ah, just for today and tomorrow! Sunday is my ‘me’ day,” Seokjin says, dashing across the room at the sight of fresh food, “Yeji is meeting with some cousins and will be spending the rest of the weekend with them.” 

“Sounds like a fun weekend,” you remark, turning to leave. 

“Will you be working the rest of the weekend?” 

This is supposed to be small talk. You try to convince yourself that Seokjin is just being polite, wondering if his service is going to be impacted by you being around or not. There must be nothing sexual, or just mere attraction, going on between the two of you. Well, maybe on your side of things. The pink shorts and the baseball cap are doing things to your body that you barely understand. Unfortunately, the eager apples of his cheeks and the innocent upturn of his lips lets you know that any possibility of returned affections is virtually nonexistent. 

“It’s my weekend off,” you fight the twinge of excitement when you see Seokjin pout, “but Park Jimin relieves me, and he’s definitely a much better host than I am. He’ll make sure everything’s taken care of.” 

“Does he make better pancakes than you?” Seokjin asks, swirling a bite in a ribbon of maple syrup.  

“I’m afraid not,” you smile, “he makes a mean breakfast burrito though.” 

He shrugs listlessly, eating slower. He takes his time to make sure every pancake is cut in equal two-centimeter pieces, taking his time as if he’s savoring the last of your home-cooked meal. “Not sure if I’ll be completely satisfied then.” 

With a firm smile, you wheel your cart out as fast as you can. You can’t keep up the facade now, not with your trashy mind and your dampening panties ruining your sense of self. Quietly slamming the door behind you, you’re met with Seokjin’s spitting image. 

Yeji tilts her head at you, eating you alive with her dead-on stare. She places the keys and your matcha beverage on your cart. 

“Did my dad confuse you or something?” 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“He’s like that,” Yeji shrugs, taking a long sip of her drink, “don’t worry, I’ll put in a good word for you.” 

A good word? With an uneasy smile you wheel away, ignoring the burn in your cheeks.

“Can I have the keys?” Yeji asks the next morning, minutes before your shift ends.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You’re sure Yeji is a wonderful kid and has a good heart, but she’s seriously putting your five-star Yelp review on the line. Cocking one eyebrow you say, “What, need your Starbucks fix?” 

“Do you know how to parallel park?” 

“Why, need a teacher?” 

“It’d be better to have someone nearby to make sure I don’t park into a guard rail.” 

“Does Seokjin approve?” 

“You obviously know the answer to that,” Yeji replies, “and you and my dad are on a first-name basis, huh?” 

Fighting the heat in your cheeks, you busy yourself by locking up the money box and key tin, but not before grabbing the keys to the Palisades. “I’m doing this for you because I have impeccable customer service skills,” you feign haughtiness, leaving your front desk and scanning your ID to clock out. 

“Not because you think my dad is hot?” she follows you out the door. 

“Do you always talk about your dad like that?” 

Yeji is silent as she takes the keys from your grip, and you follow her in the passenger seat. A scent that’s fruity yet musky fills your nostrils, and you hug your arms for comfort. This is painfully awkward, at least in your point of view, but Yeji pays no mind as she connects to her Spotify playlist and turns on the air conditioner. 

“I’m not one of those prissy daughters that try their damn hardest to make sure their dad doesn’t date,” Yeji murmurs, adjusting the mirrors, “anyone my dad dates will be better than Hyehwa. He deserves to be happy for all that he’s done for me.” 

“Hyehwa?” 

“The biological carrier for nine months,” Yeji replies dryly. 

Your heart pinches, squeezing against your ribcage as you put two and two together. Hyewha, who you’re assuming is, or was Yeji’s mother, is definitely out of the picture. Yet seeing how confident Yeji is with herself, and how much he loves her father and wants him to be happy, is clear in your eyes. 

“You are one cool kid,” is the only thing you can say, hoping you don’t have that silly heartened look in your gaze. 

It seems that you do, because all she does is roll her eyes and put the car in drive. 

It’s nearly one in the morning when you get the call. 

You’re off the clock, but it’s graveyard hours and you and Jimin are craving pizza. So while Jimin tends to the last minute guests, you pick up a cheesy pie and hide behind the desk while Jimin does his job. 

You’ve polished off half the pie when the main phone rings, and Jimin sighs heavily. Late night and early morning calls are the absolute worst. 

“Get the hospital on speed dial,” Jimin jokes, but not really because the last time someone called at one, you really did wish you had an ambulance on-site. 

“Prince S hotel,” Jimin spins the cord between his fingers, looking like a dreamy teen heartthrob as he leans against the counter. He immediately swings the phone over to your greasy fingers, “it’s a personal call.” 

Wiping your hands on the box, you raise a brow. “Hello?” you ask, wholly confused. 

“Mm, it’s Yeji,” the voice slurs on the other line, “I need help.” 

“A-are you drunk?” you say, incredulous.

“Yeah, me and my cousin snuck a bottle downtown,” Yeji sounds nervous, and you unconsciously grip the phone tighter, “can you pick us up? I can drop you my location if you give me your number, please. My dad trusted me with the Palisade this weekend, I can’t let him know what happened. I know I’m always trying to get under my dad’s skin and whatever but I don’t want him to lose my trust, what we did is a dumb mistake.” 

A part of you feels for Yeji, you’ve done dumb shit like this when you were young. All those fond memories are nothing but memories, and definitely not reflective of your current life now. 

The rational, intelligent part of you knows that you should probably call Seokjin right now and tell him what’s going on. You don’t really want to get involved in their family matters, especially when as of late you’ve been inserting yourself in Yeji’s antics. 

With a sigh, you pull up your Lyft app, already knowing whose side you’re on. 

It takes no more than fifteen minutes for you to arrive at the scene, Yeji and what you assume is her older cousin sitting on the curb of a dilapidated Krispy Kreme, sadly polishing off a whole box of glazed donuts, Well, her cousin is polishing off the box, Yeji is taking nibbles at her proffered donut. 

You sigh, pulling Yeji up. You see tear-streaks, her previously perfect cat-eye smudged off and running down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, sounding not as inhiberated as she did before, “I bothered you.” 

“Not at all,” you soothe, running a hand down her braids. You try not to melt when Yeji nearly leans into your warmth, but backs up at the last second, “I’m happy that you called. Would rather know that you’re safe now than later, yeah? I’m not mad at you,” you assure, pulling a crumpled brown napkin from the pizzeria to dab at her ruddied cheeks. 

“Hi, I’m Jungkook,” you turn your head dangerously slowly towards the cute muscle pig who’s still sitting on the curb, “Ya deserve a five-star Yelp review for this service—” 

“But I’m mad at you,” you pointedly ignore his drunken charm. He looks old enough to drink, which only further annoys you because he should be the one taking care of Yeji, “get in the damn car, Youngkook.” 

“It’s Jungkook—”

“Get in.” 

He swallows his tongue, and you notice Yeji stifling a giggle at your attitude. She wordlessly hands you the keys, clamoring in the front seat while Jungkook takes the whole back row. Yeji tiredly informs you the address to her cousin’s hotel, and you drive off into the night. 

“Did I ruin my dad’s chances with you?” you think that Yeji has no clue what she’s saying, but there’s a little sliver of heart in her tone. Her face is pressed against the window, the cold glass on the verge of keeping her awake as she stumbles in and out of consciousness. 

“You could never do that,” you mumble, and you smile when her eyes willingly flutter shut. 

“Hey, babe,” you practically hear desperation in Jimin’s voice.

“Jimin, no,” you already know that his request is sitting prettily on the tip of his tongue, “it’s my weekend off. I’m not getting out.” 

“But someone requested your pancakes,” he whines, and you can practically feel his pout on the other line, “and he said and I quote ‘I’ll be able to tell that you made them.’ I feel threatened!” 

“Did they offer to pay in diamonds?” 

“N-no. But he said it’s his daughter’s special weekend and he’d be really thankful if you’d come by and make your breakfast for him.” 

Daughter? Yeji. You sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. You have your own room separate from the hotel, a deal that has you living rent free in exchange for your hard labor five days a week. “Heat up the stove for me and crisp the bacon,” you mutter, hanging up and throwing the phone under the covers. 

Tugging your hair back and throwing on a large hoodie, you put on your slippers and pad down the little sidewalk that leads to the hotel. The sun beats down on you immediately, willing you to go back to your air-conditioned room to fall back asleep. Swimming through the soup that is the Californian air, you shuffle inside Prince S and make a beeline for the kitchens. You brush through busy employees, flashing a quick smile and “good morning” as you get to your station.

Jimin is already there, sitting at your workspace. All your ingredients are sitting out: flour, eggs, butter, vanilla, baking powder, baking soda, buttermilk, and fresh berries. However, Jimin makes  no moves to attempt cooking, instead looking at you with pursed lips and waiting for you to get a move on. 

“Get your butt off my counter,” you slap his thigh disapprovingly, pulling your sleeves up to start mixing the ingredients, “you’re dirty.” 

“I embrace being dirty,” Jimin replies majestically, kicking his legs back and forth. His Doc Marten creepers wave in your vision, “thank you for swinging by. He said that it was really really important that you come in and make them. Daughter’s request.” 

“They’re lucky they’re a cute family,” you mutter under your breath, although the words aren’t laced with malice. 

The batter is fluffy and puffy, rising with the scent of melted butter and caramelized sugar. You take careful fingers towards the berries, creating a smiley face in the uncooked pancakes. 

“Is your maternal side kicking in?” Jimin says in your ear, and you swing at him with your spatula. 

“Leave me alone, art is being made.” 

“Sure,” Jimin hops off the table, patting your shoulder, “I got a date with room 69,” you roll your eyes, there is no such thing as room 69. “So please continue to be awesome and finish off this favor by delivering it to Mr. Kim’s room.” 

“Jimin, no!” you don’t care that half the staff is staring at you amusedly, the other half uncaring because they’re so used to the two co-managers. “I’m not wearing—I’m not wearing pants.” 

You gesture to the obscene amount of bare legs out in the open. California’s hot as hell, you try to wear as little layers as possible. However, in the workplace you like to keep a modicum of decency. Even though Kim Seokjin is fine fine fine, you have decorum. 

But Jimin’s already off to visit the guest in room 69 and you’re stuck with a pile of fresh hotcakes and none of the workers want to get involved in your shenanigans. Typical. Begrudgingly, you force your Hallmark-esque smile and arrange the gold trimmed cart, taking care to put extra berries in the fruit dish. 

It’s a simple transaction. Get in, drop off the food, accept the tip if Seokjin feels generous, and get out. The door to room 921 looks larger than life, intimidating like the gates to heaven. You knock firmly, but gingerly. “Room service?” the voice that escapes your lips is your sugary professional voice, one that makes you wince immediately. 

A muffled “coming!” has you bristling at the door. You curse yourself, looking at your bunny-clad feet and your legs disappearing under your hoodie. 

As soon as Seokjin pops his head open you blurt, “I swear, I’m wearing shorts underneath this.” 

“Uh,” and that forces him to look at your legs. Dammit, it was a good intention but the wrong way to go. “Good to know,” he coughs, opening his door wider. 

The room is much messier on Seokjin’s side of the room, now filled with Eeyore and Baymax memorabilia. A large, white Baymax plush sits innocently at one side of his untouched bed. You crack a smile at that. 

“Where’s Yeji?” you ask lightly, putting both stacks of pancakes down on the available table. You absently wipe the crumbs off, leading the little pile of food-crust to the garbage can. 

“Yeji?” Seokjin asks, “why would Yeji be here?”

The way you put the cutlery down instantly slows, “You called Jimin this morning saying you needed pancakes specifically made by me to give to Yeji.” 

“Who?” 

“Jimin?” you raise a brow, losing your high-pitched commercial tone. “Tiny, annoying blond guy?” 

Seokjin stares.

You stare back.

“Yeji’s at her cousin’s townhouse,” Seokjin states plainly. 

“No, you called and said Yeji wanted pancakes—” No. 

Yeji, or Jimin, or both called you and set it up. 

“Oh, Jimin’s an idiot,” you tap your head lightly, wanting to bop out any potential embarrassing memory that has burned in your brain, “must’ve misheard. Or is hearing ghosts! Honestly he isn’t the right mind I’m so sorry I reallygottaneedto—” 

You can’t even breathe let alone exhale the rest of your sentence, so you instead do the only thing you can do—run away. You don’t bother to exude grace as you plop any trash on the cart from yesterday’s room service, whipping the cart around so fast that the side wheels fly off and pop a wheelie. 

“We don’t have to let the food go to waste,” Seokjin says pointedly, probably watching you like he’s watching a comic show as you try to bolt out of the room. 

The door is closed, and the little hallway is too small for you to put your body and the cart between the walls. You’ve trapped yourself. Maybe you could just leave the cart and dip? You’re sure there’s at least two extras downstairs. 

“It won’t,” you reply dumbly, “I can eat it in the breakroom or something, I haven’t made breakfast for myself yet. I mean, I was kinda craving an avo-toast this morning, but pancakes are always a classic.” 

Seokjin snorts at your incessant rambling, carding a hand through his chocolate locks, “I’m trying to ask you to stay for breakfast.” 

“You’re trying to—oh,” you mirror his expression, running a hand over your hair so it pulls out of its already messy style. You haven’t done much physical activity this morning, but you feel absolutely breathless as you’re glued to the cheap carpet, taking in Seokjin’s wide glassy eyes

“And if you stay for dessert, I’d like to thank you properly,” 

“I didn’t bake dessert,” you hide the shudder in your throat when he steps closer, pinning you against the cart. Your knuckles must be transparent by now due to how hard you’re gripping the cart. 

“You didn’t,” Seokjin agrees, “but you definitely brought it.” 

You yelp, actually, a whole little dolphin-squeal escapes your lips as Seokjin puts his hand against the wall. You’re actually living a Disney-esque scenario that you do not want to be in. Seokjin’s either trying to give you the Eugene-Signature-Smoulder, or the Prince Naveen charm that isn’t very charming. 

“You’re a cheeseball,” you try to snap back, but it only comes out as a small reply, fitting of your cramped situation. 

His buttery brown eyes are clear and warm, and his sweet scent envelopes your form. You feel impossibly small, sinking deeper and deeper into your hoodie until you feel the heat of his voice sinking deep into your skin. 

It’s then that he leans in and whispers in your ear, his voice a simple request, “Please tell me that you’re interested in me too.” 

Something clutches softly in your heart, tethering you to Seokjin’s gaze. You wonder how many times Seokjin goes through this scenario. You wonder if he’s happy being a bachelor. You figure that many partners must have doubts being tethered by a teenage daughter, or if Seokjin is used to fleeting hook-ups.

“Have been since check-in,” you reply smoothly, finding your breath and looking up from your eyelashes.

Seokjin’s lips find yours, and you swear you’re lip-locking with Cloud Nine. They’re soft and supple and taste a little like maple syrup as they mingle with yours, and you can’t help but weave your hands through his equally silky strands, tugging him closer as he hooks his arms under your bare thighs. 

He gives your bottom an experimental squeeze, leading you to the unmade bed.

Needless to say, breakfast has to wait. 

“So, I’m going to throw a cliché.” 

“Sure, we’re in Disney.” 

“Why me?” you slap his bare chest when Seokjin laughs, pouting, “I mean it! All I did was look cute and give you pancakes!” 

“So you admit you’re cute,” Seokjin smirks. 

“C’mon don’t change the subject, tell me!” 

Even though this hotel is partially yours, you’re still amazed at the softness of the Egyptian cotton as it engulfs both your bodies. Maybe it’s because you’re warm and bathing in the noon afterglow, maybe it’s your bed partner. Still, it feels divine as you lounge in bed, sipping champagne (left by the door, courtesy of Jimin.)

“Mm, caught you driving around with Yeji in my car.” 

You sit up straighter, clutching the sheets to your chest, “You saw us last night?” 

“You were also out last night?” Seokjin tilts his head, “I meant when you taught her how to parallel park.” 

“Oh fuck—I mean,” you slap your forehead, knowing you can’t get away with this one, “Let’s just say I helped her out of a sticky situation. Don’t blame Yeji, blame Yeji’s bunny-headed cousin.” 

“Noted,” Seokjin throws an arm around you, snuggling closer. You relax into his hold, melting between the sheets and his soft skin, “Knowing you’re pulling through for her. Let’s just say I’m a little soft for my daughter, no matter how old.” 

“She’s wonderful,” you say genuinely, taking slow sips of your bubbly drink. 

“Wanna go visit her for lunch? I’m supposed to be meeting her in an hour.” 

You don’t feel deterred or nervous to see Yeji, or even the possibility of meeting Seokjin’s extended family. So you agree, run back to your room quickly to throw on a reasonable summer outfit that doesn’t consist of hooded sweatshirts and booty shorts. 

Seokjin offers to drive your sedan, and since you feel a little princess-ish today you decide to let him take the wheel. After a few minutes attempting to drive in the direction of the townhouse however, you lower the volume on the radio. 

“Jin? I think you’re going the wrong way,” not only do you live here, but you went to the townhouse last night and you’re sure it’s in the opposite fork, “do you want me to plug it in the G.P.S?” 

“I know my way, hon,” Seokjin waves you off, confidently streaming through the oncoming traffic. You smile nervously, you have a feeling this situation has happened once or twice. 

“Oh, is that why you ended up in my hotel?” you tease, “because you’re so good at directions?” 

��Duh,” Seokjin reaches for your hand atop the console, “after all, my intuition led me to you.” 

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

*** Of Fellineweres and Curses.

Premise: When a transportation spell sees Shiro, Matt, Sam and Allura go missing from the Magic Academy and not safely delivered at the Whitecliffe Tower, Keith, Lance, Hunk, Pidge, and Coran, all find themselves on the hunt for their missing friend.

Scene: Omega Lance. Necrotic Magic. Curses. Heats. Monsters and Mana appearances, except they’re all Magic users. Teacher Coran. Loner Keith. RIP Adam, I prefer working with Curtis.

*

“Guys, we shouldn’t be here”

Worrying his pointer fingers together, Lance sighed at his best friend Hunk. The man a mess of nerves and maybe not the best person to have roped into his latest night time excursion

“Dude, we’re not doing anything. We’re only sneaking up here to have a look”

“But what if we get caught, man. Oh man, we’re going to get caught”

“If we get caught it’s going to be because you’re worrying out loud. We’ve made it this far”

“But they said the tower was off limits”

“Yeah, and? We’re only taking a look… if it’s good enough for Keith creep out of bed, it’s good enough for us. Come on, buddy. All we’re going to do is take a little looksie then right off back to bed”

“Lance, I don’t like this”

“Have I ever led you astray?”

“Yes”

Hunk wounded him. Lance may have kind of gotten them in trouble once, but the punishment wasn’t horrible as they were allowed to use their magic to do the dinner dishes for two weeks. Studying at the Galaxy Garrison, the Garrison had been Lance’s dream for as long as he could remember. Coming from a family of mostly magic users, he’d always known his time would come… even if his magic had come earlier for him than most of the other people who started training there at 17 after spending a year or so under their parents in a kind of loose apprenticeship. The day he’d been assigned Hunk as his roommate had been one of the best days of his life. He’d instantly liked the bigger teen, who looked like a small teddy bear but was in fact almost all muscle. Hunk’s magical base was all things “light”… He could bend and warp light in ways that left Lance spell bound, by harnessing the warmth found in the natural element. It was also a perfect compliment to Hunk’s true love which was all things culinary, his baking already sparkling without applying a little magical boost.

Continuing up the stairs, Lance held his breath as he strained his hearing to avoid getting caught. The Garrison was in shock and had been for the last week. Classes had been cancelled and the whole school left buzzing with rumours over how the teleportation spell could have possibly gone wrong. Part of the continental network, the teleportation network was made from old magic. Old magic that had slowly been dying out over the centuries as humans moved away from magic and to technology. The spells back then had been real works of art, not requiring the fancy words most of them needed now… The spell should have held until the tower collapsed, if it ever collapsed, yet the previous week they’d lost four of the most talented magical users in the Garrison without explanation. There was no way he was going to miss out taking a peek.

Reaching the top level of the tower, all magic within it had been banned. Normally a little levitation spell would have the user up to the third floor from the top in seconds. From there it was two sets of stairs and into the teleportation room. He’d only ever come up when with the tower custodian Coran, who’d let him come when it was time for term break and he saying hello or goodbye to his sister Veronica who worked as a magical technician. They were the only two who’d chosen as formal education in magic. His older brother Luis had little magic, as did his brother Marco who preferred to perform as a “human magician”, then there was his other sister Rachel and the less he thought about her he happier he was

“Dude, we should go back”

There went Hunk, worrying all over again. He’s sweated through his yellow headband already, and through his pyjamas…

“We’re already here. If you want to wait here… hold on”

Covering Hunk’s mouth with his hand, he dragged his friend back behind the pillar between them and the door. He’d seen that teacher’s pet Keith sneaking out, but he’d never seen the class’s smartest kid, Pidge, sneaking out of the dormitories… If Pidge was sneaking out, she could have at least told them. They would have come to support her seeing two of the missing were her father, Sam, and her older brother, Matt.

“Pidge is there… why’s Pidge here? She could have told us”

Pulling Lance’s hand down, Hunk sighed at him

“It’s her father and her brother. We should go back”

“And what if she needs us?”

“That’s low, bro. Using Pidge as an excuse”

Okay. The point was taken. The Holt’s were incredible. Pidge’s mother, Colleen, could make anything botanic grow. Sam on the other hand was a magical engineer. Pidge was already in a league of her own. The youngest admitted in the last decade which did make her the target for bullying. She had both her mother’s and father’s gifts, creating an automatic writer to write down the communications in a colony of fungus or something… It was a pretty smart idea seeing no one spoke fungus and couldn’t tell if the machine worked the way it was meant to or not.

Knowing using Pidge as an excuse wasn’t cool, it wasn’t like he wasn’t worried about her as well. Pidge kind of kept them both at an arms length, even when they wound up group up for projects more often than not

“I mean, Keith’s out of bed too. What if they do something trying to get them back and they need help?”

“Then we should be telling a teacher”

“Right. If you want to walk all the way back down there to wake “Mad Mage Iverson with One Eye”, then you go right ahead buddy and let me know it goes”

Legend had it that Iverson had lost his eye valiantly… seeing it’d only happened about a year ago, Lance was more inclined to believe the rumour that it’d been a student spell gone wrong. Lance also wanted it noted that Iverson wasn’t anything “mage-or” or than a major pain, but Hunk hadn’t found it as funny as he had. Groaning at him, Lance watched as Pidge slipped into the room, his best friend finally relenting

“Okay. Okay. But only to stop Pidge. Keith’s kind of scary”

“That’s my bud, let’s go”

To Lance Keith wasn’t scary. He was a dick. A total loner who was best friends with Shiro… Shiro who was kind of Lance’s hero. He’d fought in the continent wars and helped with the construction of the first bridge across the continents to the Orange sand islands. Everyone knew magic didn’t work well over running water, but thanks to the bridge a whole new range of trade had opened up. Lance didn’t want to be the world’s greatest spell caster, heck, he’d settle for his magic actually listening to him, but he did want to do something great and helpful… Shiro was kind of everyone’s hero but even the great hero paled next to the “Garrison’s Princess” Allura.

Coming from an ancient line of magic users, Allura was kind, compassionate, beautiful. He’d felt all funny inside the first time he’d ever laid eyes on her. Gentle and funny, she was well liked, but she always had a way of kindly distancing herself. Apparently she had “fae” in her bloodline and everyone knew that the faes of old weren’t to be trusted. Still. She was beautiful inside and out and he’d really really liked her, to the point of wanting to get to know her, yet he was just a poor farm kid without a chance… Until he’d accidentally made friends with Coran who’d turned out to be Allura’s guardian. Now he thought of Allura as kind of a glamorous big sister and she… thought of him… hopefully? Anyway, it didn’t matter. Allura had the world’s largest crush on one of “bad boys” from the Orange Islands who’d divorced his family and alliance obligations to exile himself there then come to the Garrison. Or something. When Lotor started talking, Lance stopped listening and did his absolute best to keep out of punching shot of the man.

Reaching the door both teens peaked in, Keith and Pidge were staring at the magic barrier domed over the teleportation circle. With Hunk pushing them, Lance soon found himself suddenly going from staring to “squashed like a frog” under his best friend as the door swung open and they both fell in. Glaring at them Keith crossed his arms

“Oh great. Dumb and Dumber by a long mile have arrived”

While Pidge hissed

“What are you two doing here?”

Still squashed, Lance pushed at Hunk

“Hunk, give a man some room here. We saw you sneak out and came to check”

Pidge was not amused, Hunk sheepishly climbing off of him before helping Lance back up

“You mean you were sticking your big nose into things again and dragged poor Hunk along”

So much for making a cool entry. Dusting himself off, he was glad he wasn’t wearing robes or that could have looked wrong on so many levels

“My nose isn’t that big. And you guys aren’t supposed to be here either”

“It’s my brother and my father!”

“Yeah, I know”

“You’re always butting in… Anyway, you can see it’s covered with a barrier. We can’t get close enough to see if the sigil is corrupted”

The thing about Lance’s magic was that he was pretty good at breaking things that shouldn’t be broken. It was another part of why he’d had to stay at the Garrison rather than staying at home during the holidays like his heart wanted

“Let me take a look”

“What can an idiot like you do?”

Keith. Goddamn Keith. He’d never gotten along with him and this right here was why he didn’t have many friends

“Like you’re any better. Just let me take a look. It should be still set up to teleport the Whitecliffe Tower right?”

“How should we know? Unless you’re trying to blame us for everyone going missing”

“I’m not blaming anyone! If we’re going check the sigil we need to know what the original looked like!”

“Will you two stop fighting! You’re not helping!”

Scolding by an angry Pidge, Lance swallowed hard. He hated being yelled at, and to be fair most people did, but when he was being yelled at… it brought back too many bad memories and upset his magic

“I’m sorry, Pidge. Why don’t you Hunk and I have a look while you and Keith see if you can find something that says what the sigil should look like?”

Keith huffed at him, unable to give meeting him half way a chance

“Or you can go back to bed with your big nose and let us handle it”

“What do you four think you’re doing?”

Lance screeched as he jumped behind Hunk for protection. Peering around his best friend, he could have laughed if Coran wasn’t standing there looking furious

“Any of you? Lance? I expected better of you, my boy”

The others didn’t really know he was close to Coran…

“We came up as a group to have a look… We were trying to figure out what was going on seeing none of our teachers will tell us”

Coran let out a deep sigh, before moving close to the barrier dome. His hand coming up to hover just above the spell

“I wish I knew. The sigil’s integrity hasn’t wavered once”

“Obviously something happened. My family didn’t just leave me behind”

Pidge mumbled bitterly. Hunk abandoning him to move to her. He was the one who needed the protection after that scream. How was he supposed to recover from that?

“I’m sure wherever they are, they’re trying to get home”

“But they shouldn’t have to! This isn’t right”

With the other four looking at the barrier, Lance shuffled closer to peer at the magic. His smooth tan coloured skin turned purple under the spells light

“I’d totally get running away from Keith…”

“You arsehole. What good are you? You can’t even get a simple spell right?!”

That wasn’t his fault! He tried his hardest to be like everyone else

“At least I’m not some brooding loner!”

“No! You’re a busy body and a bully!”

“Boys!”

Flinching Lance let his hands drop, startled by Coran yelling at them. He realised what he’d done as warm magic spread up his arms, the room glowing bright purple for a moment before everything around him went black.

[darkarfs]

single moments from the Trump presidency that would have defined/ended any other politician’s career

- saying he could “buy Greenland” - suggesting it was a good idea to nuke hurricanes - saying there would be fewer forest fires if we just got rid of all the leaves - asking Trudeau if Canada had tried to burn down the White House - autographing pictures of shooting victims - when he kept talking about how they drop bowling balls on cars to test them in japan and no one could figure out where he could have even gotten the idea - when he suggested Seoul should just move away from the North Korean border - introducing West Virginia’s governor as ‘the largest, most beautiful man’ - when he tweeted SEE YOU IN COURT! right after an appeals court ruled against him. like. yeah man. they just did. - the time he didn't know how to close an umbrella so he just dropped it and walked away - fighting with the Vietnam vets over whether napalm or agent orange is used in the Ride of the Valkyries scene in Apocalypse Now and then when they insisted it was napalm, Trump said they disagreed with him because they didn't like the movie (The line is famously, literally “I love the smell of napalm in the morning.”) - using his position as the single most powerful person in the world to promote Goya canned beans - when he bragged about the crowd size at the hurricane shelter in coastal Texas (”what a turnout”) - signing Bibles. What. - thinking the F-22 is invisible to the naked eye - smiling and giving a thumbs up during a photo op with a baby orphaned by a mass shooting - putting a candy bar on a Minion’s head because he’s never interacted with a child before -  when he interpreted some stray comment about transparency in the process to mean his border wall should literally be transparent, so passersby are not beaned by bundles of drugs and cans being thrown over the wall - the time he talked about having to flush his massive dumps 10 times and then immediately tried to blame the dumps on his supporters - the fake Sharpee’d hurricane map, which he did solely to not appear wrong on television - suggesting that federal employees working unpaid during the gov shutdown should just “do a work around” at the grocery store if they can’t pay for groceries - the fucking eclipse thing - the fucking three-pointers with paper towels to Puerto Rican hurricane victims - when he told thousands of Boy Scouts a story about his rich friend's fuckboat and then complained about Hilary for the remainder of the speech - when the called the CEO of Lockheed Martin “Marilyn Lockheed” (her last name is Hewson) which was objectively funnier than “Tim Apple” - when he picked an argument with Baltic world leaders because he thought the Baltics were the Balkans - the first time his team had a meeting in the cabinet room they couldn’t figure out how to turn on the lights and ended up just having the meeting in the dark -  The time he said Andrew Jackson was "really angry that he saw what was happening with regard to the Civil War, he said 'There's no reason for this.'" (Jackson died 16 years before the Civil War, and he owned 150 slaves.) - told a 7-year-old boy there was no Santa Claus on Christmas - the team of staffers whose only job was to tape back together documents he had torn up because he’s just THAT used to destroying evidence, because they couldn’t get him to stop ripping them up, but legally, the documents had to be archived - when he said the Continental Army took over the British airports during the Revolution - no sanctions on Russian soldiers killing American soldiers - “I take no responsibility for this pandemic.” - when touring the damage the Louisiana gulf coast after Hurricane Laura (just a few months ago!), he started giving first responders autographed pieces of paper, which he told them to sell on eBay for $10,000 - when he thought "clean coal" meant that the miners dug it out of the ground and physically cleaned it - the goddamn fast food catering - trying to trick the family of a teen killed by a US diplomat's wife who fled justice into meeting her, Ellen-style - pushing the Prime Minister of Montenegro out of the way to preen - that time he called into Fox & Friends and ranted for so long that they politely but firmly kicked him off - hiring an Obama impersonator solely to berate him - having a button installed on his desk that let him order Diet Coke on a whim. And sometimes using that button upwards of 13 times a day. - that time when a kid handed him a hat to sign, and he signed the hat, but instead of handing it back, he just threw it into the middle of the crowd - autographing the guestbook at the Holocaust memorial, with an added “had such a great time!” - when he zoned out and wondered where a woman's dead relatives were DIRECTLY after she had said her mother six brothers were killed. (Actual exchange: “They killed my mother, my six brothers...” “Where are they now?”) - sending 2,000 soldiers to the border to stop “the caravan,” having their pictures taken, and then recalling them all. - consoling a dead soldier’s family by saying “he knew what he was getting into.” - when he said no one could climb over the border wall because there would be no way down, and then belatedly remembered rope - when he congratulated the Great Lakes on their "record deepness" - calling Elizabeth Warren “Pocahontas” at an event meant to honor Navajo code talkers  - “Shithole countries” - calling Baltimore “rat-infested” - tweeting “too bad!” right after Elijah Cummings’ house was broken into - calling the White House “a dump” a month into moving in, which led to first both him and Melania, and then just Melania by herself, staying in Trump Tower for almost 5 months, costing taxpayers around $100,000 a day - an entire quarter of his presidency spent on his own golf courses, costing taxpayers around $141,000,000, NOT counting the Secret Service detail (they were charged for rooms and golf carts, since these were Trump’s OWN golf courses) - using “Pocahontas” again to slur Elizabeth Warren while talking down to a Native American journalist - holding a rally in Pittsburgh and trying to woo the locals by ranting about how the statue of Joe Paterno, the accused pedophilia enabler who was coach of a rival sports team, should go back up - confusingly having bigger salt and pepper shakers than everyone else in his administration, because everything to him is a dick-measuring contest - when he said he would “run in and take care of” school shooters, to school shooting victims - appointing fucking DeVos, Miller, Pompeo, Mnuchin, Nunes - inciting a seditious white supremacist mob to make sure he’s president until he’s 85, resulting in 5 dead (for which I am constantly wondering...”really? FOR THIS GUY?”) - drafted a proposal to open 94% of previously protected American shorelines to offshore drilling - when he walked up the stairs to Air Force One with toilet paper stuck to his shoe -  at least 44 times in March, April and early May in which he downplayed the threat of the virus calling it “very well under control” again and again - when somebody asked him his favorite book and he pointed at a bookshelf and said “there are some over there” - meeting with the goddamn MyPillow guy to discuss overturning election results and declaring martial law - impeached twice, was golfing both times the vote went through - 70 pardons for known criminals (including Bannon), 70 sentences commuted, just to be a spiteful little toad - when he blathered on about how much he loved the queen, the totally hacked her off - when Hope Hicks steamed his pants as he was wearing them - getting mad-pissed at White House kitchen staff because they couldn’t recreate McDonald’s and it was too late to order  and I wonder how much I missed. I bet there’s a McSweeney’s article listing all of it.

[1962dude420-blog]

Today we remember the passing of Bobby Keys who Died: December 2, 2014 in Franklin, Tennessee

Robert Henry Keys was an American saxophonist who performed with other musicians as a member of several horn sections of the 1970s. He appears on albums by the Rolling Stones, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Harry Nilsson, Delaney & Bonnie and Friends, George Harrison, John Lennon, Eric Clapton, Joe Cocker and other prominent musicians. Keys played on hundreds of recordings and was a touring musician from 1956 until his death in 2014.

Bobby Keys was born at Lubbock Army Airfield near Slaton, Texas, where his father, Bill Keys, was in the U.S. Army Air Corps. His mother, Lucy Keys, was 16 when she gave birth to Robert Henry (Bobby), her first child. By 1946, Bill Keys got a job for the Santa Fe Railroad in Belen, New Mexico. The family moved to Belen, but young Robert stayed with his grandparents in Slaton, Texas, an arrangement he was quite happy with. Bill and Lucy would have three more children, Gary and twins Debbie and Daryl. Lucy Keys Brubaker went on to become a state senator in New Mexico.

Keys started touring at age fifteen with Buddy Holly and fellow Texan Buddy Knox.Keys met the Rolling Stones at the San Antonio Teen Fair while sharing a bill with the group as a member of Bobby Vee's band in 1964. He is best known for his impressive resume as a musician (most notably the saxophone solo on the 1971 Rolling Stones hit "Brown Sugar") and his friendship with Keith Richards. Keys and Richards share the same date of birth. Notably, Keys and Richards threw a television set from the 10th floor of the Continental Hyatt House in West Hollywood, California during the group's 1972 American tour, as seen in the Stones' unreleased 1972 concert movie Cocksucker Blues. After renewing his acquaintance with the band via Gram Parsons, a mutual friend, Keys made his debut with The Rolling Stones on the Let It Bleed track "Live with Me" in 1969. In addition to "Brown Sugar," he was prominently featured on such early 1970s Stones songs as "Can't You Hear Me Knocking," "Rip This Joint" and "Sweet Virginia."

Keys and Mick Jagger also became close in the early 1970s, with Keys serving as best man at Jagger's wedding. Together with Jim Price on trumpet, Keys toured with the Stones from 1970 to 1973. Along with trumpeter Steve Madaio and fellow saxophonist Trevor Lawrence, Keys continued as a touring member for the first half of the 1973 European tour before leaving in Frankfurt, Germany on September 30. According to legend, Keys was abruptly dismissed by an incensed Jagger after filling a bathtub with Dom Perignon champagne (resulting in a debt to the band that significantly exceeded his entire salary for the tour) and drinking most of it. Although Keys did not dispute the veracity of the incident, he subsequently maintained in his memoir that he left the tour of his own volition to curtail his heroin addiction for the sake of his family. As a result of his strained relationship with Jagger, Keys only guested on some shows of the 1975 and 1978 American tours, missing the 1976 European tour completely.

Richards recalled Keys overcoming Jagger's objections to returning to the band: Years later, the Stones were rehearsing for another tour. This was 1980-something, and I bought Bobby a ticket and said, “Just get your ass here. When we rehearse ‘Brown Sugar,’ just sneak up and do the solo, man.” Once we did “Brown Sugar,” Bobby hit the solo and then I looked at Mick like, “You see what I mean, Mick?” And Mick looked at me and says, “Yeah, you can’t argue with that.” Once he just played those few notes, there really was no question. So Mick relented and said, “Okay, let’s get Bob back in the band.”

Keys performed only four tracks on the 1981 tour, on which Ernie Watts was the saxophonist. Keys was reinstated as the band's main touring saxophonist on the 1982 European Tour, together with Gene Barge. Keys played with the Stones on all subsequent tours up to his death.

Prior to touring with the Stones, Keys played with Delaney & Bonnie and Friends with Eric Clapton and George Harrison in 1969. In particular, during the year 1970 he gave an extraordinary series of notable performances. Keys started the year working on Clapton's first solo LP. With Leon Russell, he supported Joe Cocker on the 48-city Mad Dogs & Englishmen tour; the live album Mad Dogs & Englishmen was released later in the year, followed by a concert movie in 1971. During the tour, Cocker and the band were accompanied by a largely American entourage, including a choir, friends, wives, children, groupies and a single dog named Canina; the entire group numbered almost 40 people. After work on George Harrison's All Things Must Pass and more Sticky Fingers tracks, he joined the Rolling Stones for their fall 1970 European tour.

From 1973 to 1975, Keys participated in Lennon's "Lost Weekend" in Los Angeles along with Ringo Starr, Harry Nilsson and Keith Moon; while in Los Angeles, he played on Lennon's albums Walls and Bridges (including a notable solo on the #1 American hit "Whatever Gets You thru the Night") and Rock 'n' Roll. Although Keys' voice is heard on the last known recording session between Paul McCartney and Lennon (widely bootlegged as A Toot and a Snore in '74), he could not recall contributing to the session. He also played the solo on Leo Sayer's 1977 international soft rock hit "When I Need You" from the Endless Flight album.

In 1979, Keys was part of a Rolling Stones spin-off band called The New Barbarians (which also included Ronnie Wood & Keith Richards) that played two concerts in Canada and eighteen shows across the United States in April and May 1979.

In 1989, Keys became the musical director for Ronnie Wood's new Miami club, Woody's On the Beach. The first week the club opened Keys booked Jerry Lee Lewis, Fats Domino and the Crickets. In the early 1990s Keys was a resident of Miami and had a band with former Stones guitarist Mick Taylor, Nicky Hopkins, Ivan Neville, former Stephen Stills bassist Calvin "Fuzzy" Samuels and others called Tumbling Dice. Although better known as a session musician, Keys released two albums of his own in the 1970s: a self-titled instrumental album on Warner Bros. Records that featured Ringo Starr, George Harrison and Eric Clapton in 1972; and Gimme the Key on Ringo Starr's record label Ring O'Records in 1975.

Keys appeared on December 16, 2011, with the Athens, Georgia-based band Bloodkin in their "Exile on Lumpkin Street" show at the Georgia Theater, which re-opened in August 2011 in its remodeled and enlarged space after the building had been gutted by fire in June 2009. Besides performing some of their own music, Bloodkin performed with Keys on numerous hits from three of the biggest Stones' albums on which Keys had performed, Let It Bleed, Sticky Fingers, and Exile on Main St.

In 2013 he played with the Rolling Stones at their Glastonbury Festival debut, headlining on Saturday, June 29. Keys played on their 14 On Fire tour with Roskilde Festival in Denmark being his last ever gig for the Stones. Keys was married to Holly Keys. Bobby's children are Amber Keys, Huck Keys, Jesse Keys and his step-son Randy Kaune. Bobby Keys died from liver cancer in hospice care at his home in Franklin, Tennessee, on December 2, 2014, sixteen days before his 71st birthday.

[fanfics-andstuff]

The Time When Olivia Got Drunk

George ‘We are outgunned!’ Washington 3rd POV

    Olivia burst into the room where all the generals of the Continental Army were having dinner. She leaned over the door frame, looking like she was about to burst out laughing. George knew straight away that something was wrong, and so did the other people in the room.

  “Did you know that Xander, Jack-Jack, and Benji are doing extracurricular activities?” She giggled while saying the last three words that suggest that the three men mentioned weren’t doing anything innocent, “I always thought that my brother would be a top, turns out he was a bottom, and a submissive one too,” Olivia leaned forward and in a loud whisper she said, “If you know what I mean.”

‘She’s drunk’ George thought, ‘The last person I would ever think to be drunk is Olivia. Oh sweet Lord help me.’ George had dealt with a drunk Alexander Hamilton before and sweet Jesus it was not a fun task.

  ‘Both Olivia and Alexander’s Nevis accent became more prominent when they were frustrated, drunk, annoyed, or speaking in another language,’ he noted.

  Olivia half walked half ran towards him and almost fell to the ground face-first if George hadn’t caught her in time.

  “Olivia, how did you get drunk at this hour and how did you even get it?” he questioned her as he sat her down in his chair. Her face looked like she was concentrating, but all he got was a shrug. 

  “Did you know that Xander almost got decapitated?” That question took everyone off guard. 

  “Miss Hamilton-” 

  “Olivia.”

  “Alright, Olivia” Benedict Arnold emphasized her given name, “did you say that your brother, Alexander Hamilton, almost got decapitated?”

  She nodded yes, “I call it the melo-melay-something along those lines-”

  “You mean a melon?”

  “I said that, you big blue bear.” Olivia rudely replied to Arnold, “Anyways, I call it ‘The Meloy Incident’.” He heard his friend sighed exasperatedly when she pronounced ‘melon’ wrong, while the other generals laughed at his newfound nickname. 

  “Xander somehow had gotten stuck at the hole thingy of the guillotine and the blade started to fall, I have somehow gotten him unstuck from underground and replaced his head with a melony. Any questions?” She asked everyone, looking innocent as nothing ever happened.

  George needed to get Olivia to bed before she started rambling on about other things, specifically about the fact the twins were actually his biological children.

  “Let’s go, daughter, I’ll take you to your bed to rest,” he announced.

  “Don’t...” she yawned. That one sentence pierced his heart greater than any musket, if Olivia were to repeat that again, his heart won’t be able to take it.

  “I don’t have a real father,” she finished. George had nearly dropped the tea he was making for her. Real father, he wasn’t a real father to her. Sure he hadn’t been the best when it comes to parental affections, but he wasn’t the worst. 

  “He left Jamie, Xander, Mama, and me when back in ‘65. I like to think he’s dead, but…” Olivia had trailed off. After a few beats of agonizing silence, she gave him a crumpled piece of paper and told him to read it. 

  “Olivia,

  It has been years since I left you behind with your brothers and mother, but I need your help. I have been receiving less and less and I need you to send money. I know you have them because you have been working in the Continental Army for a few months. Heed my warning, if you do not give me what I want, I will come there myself and give you your lessons when I was still with your good-for-nothing mother and brothers.

Your Father In Blood,

  James Hamilton Sr.”

  Silence had stretched for seconds, minutes, George didn’t know, but he knew once he gets this James Hamilton, he’ll have him flogged immediately. He could tell by the other generals that they were thinking the same thing, especially those with who Olivia was friends. 

  But he had to know.

  George needed to know if his twins got hurt by this thing.

  He couldn’t even call the man-no coward a human.

  No, anyone who hurts a child is not a human being.

  But the devil’s followers.

  “Olivia, please tell me that he didn’t hit you,” he asked her in a calm voice, but everyone else in the room could tell it was to not startle the girl.

  When the older of the Hamilton twins looked down and didn’t say anything, every man was in an uproar, including Lee, who was not as heartless. George gave Olivia the cup of tea to prevent him from throwing it to a nearby wall.

  “He didn’t want to raise a good-for-nothing bastard daughter. He tried to hurt Xander, who was the youngest of the three of us, but Jamie and I tried to protect him as hard as we could. When we were beaten to unconsciousness, he would move on to Xander.” she said, voice void of emotions.

  George had retrieved the empty teacup, “When was the last time you ate because when I lifted you up to sit on my chair, you were surprisingly light.”

  Though Olivia’s eyes were unfocused and unseeing, she looked around her, as if she was afraid that someone else would hear what she was about to say, “Probaby...fivedaysago.” she said it so fast George had almost missed it.

  “I didn’t eat for five days because...the army needed it better than a measly woman, besides I’ve been doing it since I was a teen.” Olivia tried (and failed) to reassure them.

  “No one cares about me, not even Xander. I’ve been stealing his limelight since I got here.” She tilted her head up, and he saw her eyes glistening with tears.

  “I care, Olivia, I care about you a lot.” George contradicted her statement.

  She looked fearful at him, like prey to a predator, “Don’t tell anyone, but I plan to leave because I don’t want anyone to be burdened with me.” 

  As she yawned, the men in the room exchanged looks of helplessness, pity, and concern. Just how did Hamilton Sr. affect Olivia to feel that way. Didn’t she see that they loved her in a familial way? Didn’t she know the rest of the army sees her as a sister to the elders and mother to the young? Didn’t she see that her leaving would be an emotional blow to them?

  “I’m a nobody, always has been, always will be. I don’t want anyone to be mad at me because they’ll hurt me somehow. Sometimes, I’m scared of His Exlency because the anger he displays looks like James’.” That sentence broke his heart to a million pieces. 

  His girl, his only girl, was afraid of him.

  Him.

  HIM!

  He is her father, and she’s scared of him.

  His anger.

  That’s what she was afraid of.

  Oh when he finds that poor excuse of an adopted father, he’ll have him personally killed by George.

  She leaned forward to the table and used her arms as pillows and promptly fell asleep. 

  He quickly tucked Olivia in her bed, which was, thankfully, in the same building they were in, and slipped back into the dining room. 

  The generals were contemplating about Olivia and what she said. In the end, they agreed to never speak of that again and acted as if nothing had happened.

[littleredroseonthevalley]

Hawaiian Staycation

Summary: Bryce surprises his overworked girlfriend with a living room luau.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 1000

Notes: Feelin’ fluffy, might delete later. Jk.

Looking around the tiny living room of his apartment, Bryce had to congratulate himself. It looked fantastic.

He knew Casey Valentine, his girlfriend, wanted to go out on vacation, preferably somewhere sunny to soak up on the sorely-missed heat in Boston, and get her head clear of hospital thoughts, but with the way they were working right now, he was not too sure that it could happen. Money was very tight and their schedules were packed to the brim with patients, with the budget cuts at Edenbrook and the increased demands.

Now, Bryce had his flaws, like everybody did, but there were three things he took pride in: his jokes always landed, his hair was always on point, and he was a very loving boyfriend.

So, being the dedicated and attentive boyfriend he was, as he was back home for his day off, he set a plan in motion for the coming weekend, while Casey was out, working hard at the Diagnostics Team.

First, he looked around the apartment, and then he had taken some time out to brainstorm what he could make it happen in the following few days.

Breakfast in bed would be cool, for one, as it would serve to emulate the pampering of those large continental buffets they put out on hotels, but he could not cook very well, and that seemed a bit too common, like a Mother’s Day obligatory celebration. Perhaps he could take Casey to a pool? No, those were crowded in weekends, and he wanted to be alone with her. How about lunch? Or dinner, for that matter?

Eventually, Keiki took pity on his poor soul and came up with the concept. Hawaiian Staycation. He had to admit, it sounded cool. She drew up the decorations, while he provided funds and put his experience as a tourist-trap bartender from high school to good use.

With his sister in toll, he got on to work. Going out and buying a small plastic pool, putting it on the living room floor, cleaning it out thoroughly and filling it with water and bathtub toys, getting the lawn chairs set out around it, putting up some lights and posters depicting coconut groves and wearing a painfully stereotypical flowery shirt and shorts, with a handmade, plastic bag lei around his neck. He had even rented out a machine and meticulously polished all the hardwood floors first, to avoid the water stains from the pool and to leave a nice, tropical smell through the hallway.

With everything perfectly set up, he sent Keiki off to the mall with 150 dollars and instructions to crash at Casey’s penthouse.

The girl laughed at his frazzled appearance and waved off with a, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”

To which he responded, “We’ll do plenty of stuff you shouldn’t even think about!”

The entire weekend was finally planned to absolute perfection and he just needed Casey to arrive and to be free. Fortunately, he had the forethought of checking her schedule at the nurses’ station and, if it was anything to go by, she would be coming over shortly.

Soon enough, the doorbell rung through his apartment. While Casey climbed up the stairs, Bryce turned up the music, put on his flamingo sunglasses and picked the drinks up.

"Bryce Lahela!" She gasped when she opened up the door and looked around to see how the place was set up. Dinner, ham and pineapples, was served on the table concealed by banana leaves, the fairy lights giving a strange aura to the room, fake coconut trees all around and the soft sound of a Beach Boys music coming from the TV set.

“Aloha!” He greets, all smiles. He placed a lei around her neck, put on a straw hat and offered her a pineapple drink. “Welcome to your Hawaiian luau!”

She smiled and laughed at his display. “What are you doing, honey? You look like a Disney’s Polynesian Village Resort cast member.”

“I worked in the service industry, I can make fun of it every once in a while, can’t I?” The man smirked. “Do you like your drink? It is my specialty!”

She took the hint and sipped the liquid served inside a coconut and with an obnoxious paper umbrella and a crazy straw. “This is really good! What is it?”

“Pirate Coco-Loco Virgin Coconut Grove.” He responded, with a lopsided grin. “I worked at a kids’ area bar, at a resort in Honolulu.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate being greeted home with a Pirate Coco-Loco Virgin Coconut Grove and a Beach Boys song playing on the radio, but Bry, what came up to you to do this tonight?”

“Er, you see, you’ve been so overworked lately, and with the whole thing of Diagnostics Team and no raises, I thought you wouldn’t be able to take a vacation this year. So, Keiki and I came up with this.” He responds shyly, hands behind his head as he scratched his neck. “Did you like it?”

Casey drops her coconut drink, pulls him down by the lapels of his tacky flower shirt and kisses him hard on the lips until she is breathless.

"Thank you." She whispered against his lips, choking up on the words, and Bryce knew he did something good, pulling her close against his chest.

“Now, come on!” He grabbed his girlfriend by the shoulders. “Change out of your sensible doctor clothes and put on a bikini! We’re having a pool party!”

She shook her head, smiling at his antics. “I don’t have a bikini here.”

“Keiki bought you one at the mall this morning, and she wouldn’t let me see.” The man pouted.

The young doctor twirled her hair and smirked at her boyfriend. “I’m sure you must be very curious about it.”

He nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes I am.”

“Well, perhaps then I should let you help take it off tonight, shouldn’t I?” She tapped her index finger on his slack jaw and laughed on her way to change.