#also the beach scene being how it was all that time ago too???

[serufu]

Nico Robin's "I want to live!" scene is the reason I didn't kill myself in college, and she's been my favorite character ever since, so I'm ugly crying at how good today's chapter was for her and her character arc. Her hugging Saul and asking him to praise her for being alive still, for not killing herself, while the friends he promised she would find one day all look on because this was so important to her that they all dropped what they were doing and came with her??? It doesn't get better than this, One Piece is the best 😭

[come-on-darling-honey]

colourblind [paul lahote x reader]

AN:// this pushes all of the wolves and new moon plot to summer.

summary: based on this post of how the shift Paul and the others experience would give them physical attributes akin to a wolf, which is being colourblind. Which Paul finds himself in, until of course, he sees you for the first time in months on the first day of summer.

warnings- mature language and themes. one suggestive scene. 18+ word count 10k.

“La Push baby! Its LaPush!”

“Do you have to say that every time we go to LaPush?” I asked, staring at the back of Mike and Eric’s heads in the van. They were singing and screaming into the warm air as we drove down to First Beach.

“He said that to me when I first came to LaPush,” Bella added, meekly. I laughed, lightly pushing against her. She was wearing a white blouse and tan shorts, opposing my dark shorts and tight blue shirt, Angela had gotten me it when she went to the Grand Canyon with her family. It read “visit the Grand Canyon today!” on the back, so ugly I loved it.

“He’s been saying it since we were five and our parents would carpool us in the summer.” I whispered to Bella; we were both laughing at the terrifying attempt from Mike to sing ‘Wanna Be’ by Spice Girls. Butchering the lines didn’t matter to Mike, it was summer. First day of it. Bella was finally out of the pit she had found herself in.

I’d spent almost every Friday and Saturday night of the past seven months sleeping over at the Swan house, waiting for Bella to come through. At first it was scary, the screaming and the vacancy of her mind, but she’s better now. At least I hope she is, Charlie thinks so, but I’m worried she’s becoming dependent on our friend Jacob. Coming to First Beach did mean a far chance we could run into Jacob, but it also means she’s surrounded by other people, and as annoying as Mikes singing is, I can tell she’s enjoying it.

“Are you okay?” I heard Bella say, we’d parked, and the boys were getting their surfing gear on. I hadn’t even noticed; Bella was wide eyed like a little deer and grasping onto my shoulder. “Is it to do with Paul?”

“No,” I laughed uncomfortably shaking her off as I got out of the seat into the back, taking of my clothes to reveal my favourite bikini underneath. “Not even thinking about him.” Which was true, to an extent. I had been thinking about Paul Lahote all morning and all last night and the day before, and every day since three weeks ago but that wasn’t in this moment. So technically… not a lie!

She watched me in clear disbelief but didn’t push it. She knew some rumours about Paul from Jacob, not kind ones but as the days go on, I’m starting to believe them myself. Hall monitors on steroids. “What book are you bringing?” Bella asked, changing the subject.

“The Metamorphosis by Kafka, are you rereading Austen again?” I said, searching through my bag for suncream. The only way id gotten Bella to agree to coming today was to promise I’d stay by her side all day and we can just read on the beach. Which worked out well for me, I always hated getting changed after leaving the ocean, everything stuck to you; clothes, sand, everything. She nodded and sheepishly pulled Persuasion out of her bag. Bella grabbed the towels we were going to lay on as I surveyed the beach for the best spot, there were a lot more people than usual but it’s what I expected. The remote spot in the south corner seemed perfect. Setting down camp, I heard laughter and colliding footsteps coming towards us, Mike, Eric and now Tyler ran to our spot, and all jumped over one another to lay on the sand. Not a single cloud in the sky, not that the boys noticed, too busy apologising to Bella for covering her towel with sand. Laughing it off quietly she shook the towel and threw all the sand on the boys. She stopped laughing as she looked over my shoulder. Standing up I saw, Sam Uley talking with Jared, Paul and Embry? But Embry was huge and at least half a foot taller than when I last saw him. They began kicking a ball around until Paul suddenly turned in my direction. Swivelling quickly, I stared into the sea. Sitting down on my towel that I was apparently sharing with Jess, I looked over at Bella. Giving me a comforting smile, she nodded towards our books that sat in the bag at the foot of her towel.

A few hours had passed when Jacob and Quil had made their way over to us, Jess, Angela, and the boys had all decided to go on an impromptu adventure leaving Bella and I in peace, that is until Quil collapsed on my towel and Jacob calmly sat next to Bella.

“See how normal Jake is?” I asked kicking Quil with my foot, “Be more like Jake.” They all laughed as the fiend on my towel rolled over.

“Figured you needed protecting.” He said, puffing his chest put lightly with a boyish smile.

“From what?” Bella laughed.

“Lahote’s been staring at you for a while,” Jacob said staring at me. Turning around I saw Paul from a distance, I could barely make out his face but saw that he definitely wasn’t happy.

“Well thank you gentlemen, but we can handle ourselves.” I said, laughing when Quil got hit with a rouge baseball.

We spoke for a while, making jokes at each other’s expense and avoiding the subject of Embry completely. Bella and I had come to an unspoken agreement that if they wanted to talk about it, they would. I looked around the beach and saw a stall on the pavement beyond the pavilion, an old lady selling handmade jewellery. I told Bella, Jake, and Quil that I was going to see what she was selling and grabbed my purse from my bag. Making my way over across the hot sand I regretted not grabbing a shirt from Quil or Jake or even making a detour to the van, so many people were looking at me, even if they were wearing the same thing, I felt so exposed.

“Hello dear, having a good day?” The lady asked as I finally reached her stand. We spoke about the weather and then about her creations, one with a beautiful orange crystal in the middle had caught my eye. “Citrine, they bring positivity and happiness” she winked once she caught where I was looking. I grabbed my purse but before I could hand over the $5 someone else passed it to her. Following the tan hand, I saw Paul; he was looking at the lady and explained he’d buy it for me. She smiled and accepted the money, handing him the necklace over. Paul looked at the necklace in his hand and squinted, looking oddly heartbroken.

“I can buy it myself.” I said as he walked a few steps out of earshot of the old lady. He still hadn’t actually looked me in the eye yet. It was infuriating. “You know its super fucking rude of you to ignore me for weeks, replace me with new friends, act like I don’t exist and then pretend like nothings happened.” He tensed at this; I kept going. “And now you won’t even look me in the eye!” I laughed, his large shoulders straightened, God when did he get so big.

As he turned around something shifted, I’m not sure what but it was definitely something. He stared at me wide eyed, speechless and I saw tension fall from him. But I had no patience for him.

“Are you going to give me the necklace or should I just go and buy one for myself.” This seemed to snap him out of it, he passed me the necklace and kept looking at me. Not staring anymore, more of a gaze. Not voyeuristic as the other gazes from men on the beach but an intimate one, one I wanted to avoid. His eyes are a stunning brown, I think to my painting at home, I’d made him sit for hours, waiting for the result when I’d spent twenty minutes alone painting half an eye, he waited.

Tearing myself away from him I look down at the necklace, it was beautiful. I had to not owe him this. I took the $5 out of my purse and pressed it to his chest. He finally caught on and gently pushed my hand away.

“Take it.” I demanded.

“It’s a gift.” He whispered, the way he used to.

“Please take it.” I begged lightly; I couldn’t owe him for this.

“What is going on?” A harsh voice interrupted us. Quil had stood in front of my right shoulder, not hiding me completely but being a clear attempt to shield me. He didn’t know any of the details of what happened between Paul and I, but honestly, I didn’t either. He just knew how broken I was, crying to him when Bella, Jake, and Embry weren’t around. Knowing I couldn’t handle their silent looks.

“None of your fucking business, Ateara.” Paul snapped, his body tightening. Quil pushed him, suddenly Jared was holding Paul back and Sam had appeared in front of us. He had whispered something to Paul that I couldn’t catch but it looked more like a demand. One I wasn’t entirely sure was in Quil and I’s favour or not.

Jacob had arrived by this point, staring at Embry in disbelief who had told Quil to ‘back off’, Embry was normally so sweet and quiet. The way he was acting as he was influenced by the others was a clear sign to the mentality that I didn’t want anything to do with. Paul had caught my eye from over Sam’s shoulder, a pleading sense to him. I looked away, staring at Quil’s back. I couldn’t do this, get caught up in whatever teenage boy bullshit was going on. I was 18, Paul 19, Quil 17. I had no fucking interest. Ignoring the yells of my name I walked back to Bella who had watched the whole affair in bewilderment. I walked back to Bella in more confidence then when I had left, I couldn’t explain it, but I knew the people looking know, weren’t looking at me and if they were it, was a good thing. Sitting on the towel I thanked Bella for staying with the stuff and picked up my book. Not before placing the Citrine necklace in my bag. She watched me as I lied back down but I couldn’t care, knowing I’d have to tell her every detail later anyway. Jess practically ran to us, monopolising my towel once again and demanding to know what she had seen from across the beach.

“I mean not only was he completely eye-fucking you but who were all his friends?!” She practically screamed, I hit her shoulder lightly with my book for ‘eye-fucking’ as Bella blushed, but explained who the boys were.

“Oh, they’re coming over!” Jess said, elated with the drama unfolding right in front of her. My legs slid over Jess so she wouldn’t leave and who ever was coming wouldn’t stay, which thankfully she understood as she grabbed my legs lightly with a comforting rub.

“Can you believe the nerve of Embry?” I heard Jake yell as he was approaching us, Bella’s cheeks were as pink as Jess’ bikini. Jess’ jaw dropped as she ate up Quil and Jake’s physique, I watched her over my book, smirking as she stared at the long haired boys.

Quil called my name, and I looked up, with my head laid down I saw him as a giant, which made me laugh.

“What the fuck was he saying to you.” Quil demanded, staring at me.

“It’s over, don’t worry about it.” I said calmly.

“Don’t worry? He’s a fucked-up dude! Literally almost exploded on me, again!” he gave Jess context, that Paul had almost ‘attacked’ Quil in a convenience store a few weeks ago. She looked down at me in surprise. I still read my book.

“As hot as he is,” Jess said with Quil and Jake protesting as she ignored them, “no boy is worth it if he has anger like that.” She said with the older sister tone she normally used on her younger siblings. Quil and Jake agreed with her, but Bella stayed silent, I looked at her from the corner of my eye and saw her staring at the pavilion.

“Honestly, if you go back to him, I can’t be your fucking friend.” I caught Quil saying. I stood up so quick I dropped my book on the towel, loosing the page. Where did this come from? Bella, Jake and even Jess went quiet. Quil had snapped, he never snapped at me.

“First of all, that would be my decision, second, I wasn’t ‘with’ him in the first place and thirdly you don’t get to be so fucking rude to me.” I snapped, pointing a finger at his chest.

“He’s a bad fucking person and you know it.” His eyes stared into mine, harsh and true.

“You don’t know him how I know him.” I defended Paul, for some unknown reason. I didn’t even fully believe myself I was just so hurt with how Quil was acting everything was blurring out of anger.

“After everything he did, you’re defending him!” Quil yelled, desperation in his eyes, he was looking at me as if I was crazy, which I was beginning to feel.

“You don’t fucking care about me.” I yelled back. Storming away, grabbing only my bag and purse, leaving my book and towel. All but Quil yelled after me.

Opening the van, Mike was sat in the back struggling to get the sand of his feet. “Pass me my clothes.” I said, I couldn’t hear myself due to the anger raising and blurring everything, but I could tell I was being rude, Mike’s smile dropped into a worried expression as he gave me my clothes. I dressed in silence as he asked me if someone did something, like the protective older brother he always acted like. I shook my head, unable to fathom words that weren’t a string of swears. Did Quil really think that lowly of me? Did he think he could just give me an ultimatum like that, and I’d accept it? Fuck this and fuck him.

I told Mike I was going home and as he asked if I wanted a lift, I slammed the door of the van shut too hard and made my way to the back streets of first beach. I knew if I got to the centre of LaPush that I could find the bus stops I used to use when I’d hang out with Paul. Lead hit me over the head when I thought about him. I suddenly had an urge to sit by his side unlike the recent weeks where id sworn him off and cried and cried.

A truck pulled up beside me, old and worn I recognised it as Sam Uley’s. I looked over to see him sat in the driver’s seat looking at me.

“I’ll give you a ride.” He said, in a way I felt oddly comforted by as I got in. Normally, I would’ve told him to fuck off, but I felt way too emotional to walk the twenty minute walk to the centre of town. We sat in silence for ten minuets after I’d told him my address. I wanted to ask him about Paul, even about Emily and Leah but it didn’t feel right. This would be the fifth time I’d been near him let alone speak to him, so it just felt wrong. But he must’ve been thinking the same thing.

“It’s not Paul’s fault.”

“What?” I asked, looking at him. He was staring intensely into the road, it was weird, it felt like Sam was effortlessly the comforting older brother figure Mike had tried to be. Yet he seemed guilty like he’d made a mistake, not know but before.  

“I told him to stay away from you, it was my fault. He had no choice.” I decided to listen, to make sense of what he was saying. “There’s somethings you need to know, do you remember Emily?” I nodded, unable to speak in fear he’d stop speaking. “I’ll write her address down for you, visit any time and she’ll help you.” How cryptic could one person be.

“Why did Paul listen to you?” I questioned, staring at him. His dark brown hair was swooped back so he could see the road.

“He had no choice, you’ll understand.”

“I don’t understand anything.” He laughed.

“You will.” He pulled over and stopped driving, we’d reached my house. He pulled a notebook from the glove compartment. “Here’s her address and my number if you need a ride.”

“I can get Bella to drive me.”

“No, Bella can’t know about this, it doesn’t involve her. I’m sorry but you must trust me.”

“I tell Bella everything.” I said, taking the sheet of paper from him.

“But does she tell you everything?” he asked, his tone wasn’t accusatory like Quil’s had been, no, Sam asked me like he was genuinely worried about me. He was right, I knew Bella wasn’t telling me something. I couldn’t ask, hoping she’d finally tell me.

“I guess this means don’t tell Jake or… Quil.” He nodded, I got out of the truck, thanking him for the ride.

“You hike a lot, right?” It was my turn to nod. “Take a break for a while, with all those attacks it really isn’t safe.” I agreed, sadly, and went inside, after thanking him again for the ride. “Ever need a lift, just let me know, I’ll sort one out for you.”

I was glad it was summer break. All my free time had been spent on art: painting, sketching, and avoiding literally everything else. I’d been missing all of Bella’s calls and thankfully when she came over to my house I was working. Sam had been giving me lifts to work since I normally did a small hike there. I worked on the other side of Forks at a plant shop and nowhere near Bella. Whatever she was hiding from me had been eating away at me for a while. Summer break had also given me an escape from running into Jess, I loved her, but I had literally no answers for her. And the theories I had were so bat-shit crazy I had feeling no one would believe them.

Quil had called seventeen times. I couldn’t call him back, still angry at the way he spoke to me. Maybe he was right about Paul, but a small voice in the back of my head I’d nicknamed ‘stupid consciousness’ told me I should give Paul a fair chance and listen to Sam. Maybe it was some crazy mastermind ploy to pull down my defences, but id started to befriend Sam, and Emily as she’d joined him a few times to take me to work. I couldn’t figure out why they’d decided to help me out suddenly, but I decided to just go with it, I felt safer, loved and they never brought up Paul.

8:30am on a Tuesday morning I sat in the garden waiting for Sam. My headphones blasting Noah Kahan’s new album. It was chiller then it would be for this time of year, so a loose fleece hung around my body. We had another month of beautiful sun until the constant hood of clouds and rain returned to Forks. I had started worrying this morning that Sam driving me to and from work was an inconvenience, I hadn’t been insecure about this before, but it was daunting on me now. What if I was just pushing him out of his way and annoying him? Annoying Emily? I felt suddenly sick. But the truck in front of me pulled me out of the haze. Sam’s brotherly grin made me smile, my older brother was away at college, and I missed him. He opened my door form his side and I got in, the fear of inconvenience looming over me. Taking off my headphones I heard the soft folk music playing form the old truck. It was a twenty-minute drive to my work; we made nice conversation till Sam said something that struck me.

“Come to Ems tonight, I’ll finally explain it to you.” Weeks had passed since Sam initially asked me, it was clear I didn’t want to ask, so he’d decided to tell me. I nodded, silently looking out the window. Five minutes till we got there.

“Will he be there?”

“Yes.” He was short, sweet, and blunt. I knew I couldn’t hide from this, so I decided to ask what had been looming over me all morning.

“Why do you drive me? You work on the res; this is completely out of your way.” I still held my gaze out of the window. But I heard him grin as he told me.

“Well, I like your company, I always wanted a baby sister,” I scoffed at ‘baby’ which he caught and laughed, “plus it really is not safe if you walk to work, you walk through the bush, it isn’t safe.” His tone was serious at the end. I knew he was telling the truth. When we arrived, he looked over at me, smiling he passed me a brown bag. Holding back a laugh he told me “Em’s worried you aren’t eating enough”.

“She does know I’m an adult right?” I laughed, taking the bag.

“Well do you have any lunch today?” the silence from me made him laugh as I clearly did not, infact, have lunch. I threw a piece of card from the car door at him as I mumbled in protest.

“Pick me up at four?” I asked, putting the brown bag in my own. He nodded, as he drove away, I realised how long today was going to be.

I was right. So annoyingly, right. The day dragged, it felt that five hours had passed when in fact it was only two and I couldn’t even go for my lunch yet. If one more old lady asked me to point her in the direction of the roses, I was going to lose my mind. Not only was it weird that roses were extremely popular among old ladies but that they couldn’t see that the roses were at the front of the store, they were the first things you saw as you walked in.

At 1:25pm I heard a familiar gruff voice echo in the small shop. Charlie Swan. I was praying he was talking to a friend, or that there had been a horrible crime and the shop was under investigation. But as I heard a small, feminine voice I knew I wouldn’t have such luck. Of course, when I was working Chief Swan would decide to finally re-do his front garden. My lunch break was in five minutes if I could just hide here then my 60-year-old co-worker Henry would serve them. Henry was a true one, he’d help me in my hour of need. I hid behind the seeds, staring at Iris in its many forms as I heard Bella ask Henry if I was working too, I wasn’t sure if Henry and I had some super cool intuition or if he had genuinely forgotten I was working as he told her I wasn’t today. As I snuck away for my lunch break, I internally praised Henry for being the best co-worker that has ever lived.

Checking my phone, I noticed a missed call from Sam and a text.

“Can’t pick you up, Em is going to, she’ll be using her truck- its blue same make as Bella’s. Will be there when you arrive. Sorry.”

As weird as that was, I was just thankful I had a ride, I didn’t trust Henry behind the wheel.

The afternoon had passed quicker than the morning, the lunch Emily had made me was embarrassingly good and oddly comforting. As I finished my shift I gave Henry a fist bump, he laughed the way old people do, as a reflex showing that they’ve been laughing all their life. Emily’s blue truck pulled up; it had a better paint job then Sam’s but I had a feeling Sam worked on her truck more than his own.

“How was your day?” Em gleamed as I got into the car.

“Dull but the lunch was amazing, thank you.” I laughed as she grinned like a fool.

“I knew you’d like it! Paul told me you were vegetarian, and I’ve been dying to pull out those veggie cookbooks! The boys always avoid vegetables, it’s ridiculous!” she laughed as I wound the window down, warm air sifting through. My fleece cocooned in my bag form this morning, abandoned in the heat. I smiled, feeling warm at the casual mentioning of Paul. I’d assumed Sam’s business was something to do with work and that it wasn’t my business but at Em’s odd avoidance of it, something felt different.

I’d told her about Henry and Bella, talking more about Henry then Bella, Em laughed so hard she coughed. Pulling up to her house, I was shocked. It was beautiful. When we got out, I stared at the cabin, two stories and covered in flowers and plants. Wooden furniture, big windows, and open doors. It was beautiful. Em pulled me in, it was even more perfect inside. Bright colours and paintings everywhere. Sitting at a round, wooden table Em beckoned me to join her.

“Your home is… wow just amazing,” I was still looking at everything, the open kitchen and dining room was so homely and comforting. She smiled and grabbed my hand.

Emily was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen. The scar on her face to her arm didn’t change that. She was even more beautiful; she wore it proudly. When she smiled part of the scar creased at her eye. Her long black hair hung over her shoulders, bangs perfectly trimmed. My hair was almost as long as hers, but she had a few inches on me.

“How are you feeling?” her caring tone standing through.

“Nervous, I have no idea what is about to happen.”

She nodded, squeezing my hand. “I’ll be here the whole time, if you don’t want to be here at any moment just say and we’ll go, no questions asked.” She must’ve noticed the apprehension in my face. “Nothings going to hurt you, Sam and Paul have made sure of that.” I trusted her, more than I trusted the people I grew up with. I knew for certain there was something going on, that involved Paul and Sam, probably Jared and Embry too. Whatever it was I hoped it didn’t involve Quil and Jake too.

Voices came through the door behind us that led out to Emily’s extensive garden. Sam and Paul came in. Both shirtless and only wearing shorts. Which was weird but I guess they felt the heat more than Emily and I, Emily was wearing a stunning white sundress and I white pants and black shirt, my apron from work stuffed in my bag along side the fleece.

Paul looked at me, he looked horrible, dark bags under his eyes, and it looked as if he had to hold himself back from me. Not in a threatening way, not the relief in his eyes told me this was good, that I was safe. Sam rubbed my shoulder as he passed me to get to Emily. As they hugged and kissed, I saw Paul still watching me, turning back to him I saw the weight in his eyes.

“Are you joining us?” I asked him, an olive branch being thrown in his direction.

He took a moment to process what I asked then silently nodded and sat a chair away from me, which did hurt. But I ignored it and looked to Sam and Emily who had both sat back down. Emily’s hand was once again in mine, Paul looked with an odd… jealousy? Till his eyes trailed up my arm to my neck, where the necklace laid. I’d worn it every day since the beach that I didn’t even think about it anymore.

“So,” Sam started, “there are some things we have to tell you, but I think it’ll be easier if we show you then explain.” Emily’s head snapped to him as Pauls hung in shame. He smiled at her reassuringly and guided us all to the garden where Jared and Embry were talking. They both greeted me with a relaxed voice I was deeply confused as to what was going to happen.

Sam and Paul stood slightly in front of me, Emily’s grip tightened as she held onto my arm. Without warning Jared had… disappeared? And there was a wolf in his place. I looked in frozen shock to Embry who was grinning ear to ear and then his body contorted itself into another oversized wolf. Both started chasing each other and I couldn’t find it in myself to be scared. Instead, I found it hilarious, two boys had just turned into great big wolves, and I was worried about my friend not liking me anymore! All my problems felt so small as I watched them both. Emily pinched me, whipping my head to her in pain I asked her what’s wrong.

“What is wrong? What is wrong! They just shifted into wolves and you’re acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world!” She yelled, trying to grasp anything from me.

“Let’s go inside.” Sam said, leaving Embry and Jared to playfight in the garden. Emily dragged me in, I couldn’t stop watching them. Enamoured by how small it made my problems feel. Everything had been feeling so all-consuming as I experienced every little emotion, it was awesome to feel so insignificant.

“How familiar are you with the tribe’s history?” Sam asked, trying to read me as we sat back in Emily’s kitchen. I finally turned away from the wolves in the garden to face him.

It all hit me, everything Paul had told me growing up and Quil had been telling me before the beach. About the vampires, about the three bloodlines that became protectors. Quil was in that bloodline. So was Jake. Fuck.

“I know a fair bit.” I said. The next ten minutes were spent by Sam monologuing everything they knew so far but I could tell he was leaving something out. Something I knew that I knew. Paul or Quil must have mentioned it. After he had finished, I sat processing, knowing there was something else. The leaches. Was it just the one Sam had mentioned. Oh god. I dropped the glass of water I was holding, Paul caught it.

“The Cullen’s.” I breathed, looking at Sam and Paul in horror.

“You caught that quicker than I thought you would,” Sam laughed, “the treaty doesn’t allow us to tell people what they are.”

“I sat next to them in classes… Bella dated one!” silence. “She knew?” I was bewildered. She knew that Edward Cullen was an ancient old man murderer and dated him? What is wrong with her. I can’t judge her completely, as gross and weirdly necrophiliac as that is, I didn’t know her story. I’m glad Sam warned me that she wasn’t telling me everything.

“Does she know about you guys?” Sam shook his head.

“Only the people in this room, Jared and Embry and the tribe’s elders know. Its safer that way.” I nodded. Embry was 17. He must’ve been so scared.

Suddenly it hit me how cruel I’ve been to Paul; Sam had explained the gag order he’d put on Paul. Thinking about him, I knew there was something else, but I couldn’t help but just feel horrible for how I acted. The way I spoke about him to Quil, not meaning a single word but loving how good it made me feel. Without looking at him I let go of Emily’s hand and held his. He squeezed in and I could practically feel the smile radiating of him. I knew I shouldn’t feel too bad for how I acted; I didn’t know. But I wish I did. Sam explained lightly how his transformation was, how painful and terrified he was. I didn’t want to imagine a similar story leaving Paul’s mouth.

“I’m thankful you told me but why exactly are you telling me?” I asked, Paul stiffened, my thumb absent and idly ran circles around the back of hand as I stared at Sam. He shifted uneasily under my gaze. Which felt wrong, Sam was never uncomfortable. What was he avoiding? What am I forgetting?

A ring ran through the silent kitchen, and I dropped Paul’s hand to look at my phone. Jakes name read across the screen, which was weird. Jake never called me. He texted me when he was picking me up to come hang out and that was it. It’d been radio silence on both ends since I had that argument with Quil.

“Erm, I’m gonna get this.” I went outside to Emily’s front porch rather than the open garden.

“Jake?” I asked to the empty phone line.

“Hello?” He panted; his breaths disjointed.

“Jake what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, something-” he was cut of by a pained groan. “Somethings wrong.” He sounded like a child, one who couldn’t understand the pain of a broken arm or where a relative had gone and why they wouldn’t come back.

“Jake? Is Quil there?”

“No, I just got back from the movies with Bella.” He screamed again. Then began pleading with me. I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly two wolves ran past me into the Woodline, I turned back to see Sam telling Paul and Emily something as he shifted into the clearly biggest wolf.

“Listen to me okay. Deep breaths Jake, help is coming. You just gotta keep calm. Please, okay?” I asked, figuring out what was going on. Jake was shifting. I was panicking and felt like crying at his screams of pain.

“How are you feeling?” a pained yell was all I got in reply, Emily came to the porch behind me and put a hand to my back, ‘keep going’ she mouthed.

“Focus on- Bella! Think of her okay. Bella she’s going to be an anchor for you. Think about her okay. What shirt was she wearing today?” I asked keeping my voice as calm and steady as I could.

“She was wearing-” another scream through gritted teeth.

“Focus.”

“a green jacket, and a white blouse.” I heard crashing through the call, Sam’s voice, more screaming. I hung up the phone. This was too much. Too soon. Emily’s hand ran up and down my back, I was breathing heavily. I only found out about this an hour ago, how was this happening to Jake? Bella had once called him “earthbound sun” and now all I was hearing was his screams of pain playing on repeat.

“Everything will be okay.” She whispered, taking me upstairs into a bedroom. The walls were wooden, and the large bed was plush, and it smelt of lavender when I sat on it. Emily leant in front of me, both my hands in hers as we breathed together, she must’ve gone threw this a few times now. I couldn’t even pinpoint why I was so worried. The idea of Jake or any of them making a mistake and Paul getting hurt was eating me up. As my eyes fell into Emily’s and my breathing matched hers, I remembered the last bit of the story Paul told me years ago.

We were 15, sat cross legged on his lawn. I was making daisy chains as he told the legends to me. He blushed as he mentioned imprinting. The two souls who were destined to meet brought together by fate. How the shifter devotes themselves to their imprint even at the cost of themselves. At the time we both couldn’t comprehend the power of it, we thought it was ludicrous. And it was, a complete lack of agency. But in a selfish way, it was fantastical. My breathing was normal, and Emily sat next to me.

“Did Paul… did he imprint on me?” I asked quietly, scared if I said it any louder id be ridiculed. Emily didn’t say anything, she just squeezed my hands gently.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight? I have some spare pyjamas; I can wash your uniform for tomorrow.” She asked, eyes searching my own. Nodding I waited as she left the room. She told me to start getting changed as she left, stripping down to my underwear I became oddly aware of how insane this was, but I trusted Emily. And I knew now, I was safe. She came in holding a brown tank top and white shorts, they were so soft as I put them on. I was still dazed as the panic left my system; every movement was a cloud in my mind.

“Would you like to join me?” she asked, as I lifted my head up in confusion she continued “I’m going to watch a film, we can watch it together, if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.” I replied, Emily put my clothes in the wash with some of her own and we got comfy on the sofa, I’d learnt the room with the lavender smelling bed was a guest room, and I was welcome to stay over whenever. Emily’s room was just down the hall. Her Gran had left her this house and she spent two years renovating it. She always made sure anyone was welcome here. I texted my parents to let them know I wouldn’t be home tonight, they told me to stay safe and call them if something is wrong. I was an adult, and I knew they liked knowing I was okay.

“Paul stays over most nights,” she said, braiding my hair, “but he sleeps on the couch. I can’t get him to take a room.” I was laying half on her chest half on her the sofa. I felt like a child. It was the most comforting experience of my life. We watched 2005 Pride and Prejudice. Laughing and swooning the whole time. We cried at the love in the film, the hand moments making us kick our feet, giggling. It was relaxing, to be with a friend. One that wasn’t hiding anything. I guess I would be the friend that was hiding something now to all my friends, to Jess, Bella, and Angela. But I couldn’t dwell on that. I told Emily about how I was feeling with Bella, and she told me about Leah, my stomach dropped when she told me Sam gave her that scar.

“I couldn’t be angry at him, what happened to him, to all the boys, it takes away their agency in emotional moments. I forgive him.” She told me, watching the film. Like this was second nature. Merely an afterthought. I knew I was safe here but was that just hysterics? Was I in danger and too naive to notice? No. Sam and Paul care for me. But Sam loves Emily? No. I reassure myself as I fall into a drowsy slumber as Emily ran her fingers through my hair. Sam can control it, so can Paul and Jared and Embry and Jake will be able to.

Warm arms lifted me, I felt the soft plush of the bed beneath me. I wanted to grab onto to the body holding me, my eyes wouldn’t open but I tried. A light chuckle sifted through the air as I finally let go.

A pink sunrise fell over me. I was drenched in the colours. Walking through the house I saw Paul, asleep on the sofa. The pink and purple began to fall onto him, he shifted awake as I made my way to the kitchen.

“Did I wake you?” I froze, looking at him through sleep festered eyes. He shook his head, smiling. We made coffee and cereal in silence, I the coffee and Paul the cereal. As we ate, I asked about Jake.

“He’s better now, the first shift is always the worst. What you did on the phone really helped.”

“All I did was keep him talking till you guys got there,” I said, finishing my cereal.

“He mentioned you called Bella an anchor, that helps more than you know.” He was looking at me intently. Suddenly I remembered my conversation with Emily last night.

“Paul…” Emily and Sam walked in, laughing with each other. I didn’t want to ask Paul with others around. He seemed brighter though, maybe he’d finally had a full night of sleep. Sleep, id fallen asleep with Emily on the couch and woken up in bed. Looking back at Paul, he was already watching me, waiting. “Did you take me to bed last night? You could’ve just woken me.” I laughed, trying to play off my feelings.

Sam laughed, sitting down with a coffee, “You were both sound asleep when we got back, no use waking you.” Emily looked at me, asking if id said anything, lightly shaking my head I pulled myself away from the conversation as they updated Emily on Jacob. From the window I saw the orange sun dance across the green summer leaves, sway through the crisp morning grass. The sun had risen by now, but the early morning was still prevalent in its colourful glory.

Sam called my name, pulling me out of my thoughts. “When do you start work?”

“9am,” I lied. Well, it wasn’t an actual lie, but I had decided I wasn’t going to go to work today, Henry had been telling me I need to take advantage of the paid sick days we get, so today I will. I need to process what the hell just happened. Alone. As much as I want to be here, I don’t know how much more I can handle. Sam had told us he hadn’t expected Jake to shift so soon and Quil’s grandfather has noticed he has a fever. It’s happening too fast and is still don’t really know why I am involved. Expect I do, which makes it so much worse. I would get dropped of at work, and then catch a bus to First Beach, which yes was counter intuitive, but it felt wrong to tell the people who immediately accepted me I didn’t want to be around them right now. I’d tell them id get a ride home from Henry and just walk back home. No, I shouldn’t walk. I promised Sam I wouldn’t walk. I’ll get the bus home or ask Bella as awkward as it might be.

Paul eyed me, brow furrowing. Sam and Emily didn’t notice but I couldn’t help feeling like Paul could read my mind. It feels weird being known so well. I sat with them for an hour or so before going to get a shower and then get dressed, Emily had layed my clothes on my bed while I was in the shower, and I suddenly felt insanely sick at the thought of lying to her.

Wandering back into the kitchen I saw Paul wearing worker pants that were just wow. I looked away before he caught my gaze. My heart beating in my throat.

“Where are you working?” I asked, he was looking for a job before all of this.

“Sam’s construction, he let Jared and I join after we shifted, he runs the business you know?” he said looking at my clothes. Wide legged white pants and black shirt, I was holding my apron, the ugly thing.

“Actually, Sam’s gone in early, so can I drive you to work?”

I nod, grabbing my bag and kissing Emily’s cheek goodbye as she started working on a wooden chair. Emily sold wooden furniture, I made sure to make note of that since my parents were looking at getting a new kitchen done. As we left, I noticed Sam had taken Emily’s truck and left his own for Paul. Fuckers had planned this.

“you’re a horrible liar, you know.” Paul said as we drove away from Emily’s. Is he psychic? “Sam told me you normally finish early on Wednesday’s, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. I finish at 12, i'll pick you up and explain everything.” I decided to play dumb.

“I thought you explained everything?” his laugh echoed in the car.

“We both know you’re too smart to think that.” The conversation ended, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not the same feeling as when Sam drove me, this was new.

“You can meet Henry when you pick me up.” I added, laughing at the thought.

“Who?” Paul said, the familiar jealousy peaking in his voice.

“Oh, he’s a real catch, total ladies’ man. I have a conspiracy that we’re psychically linked.” I said nonchalantly, absolutely doing it on purpose.

“That’s cool.” He said, sharply. These three hours were gonna go smoothly.

And they did. I was so excited for Paul to come pick me up I was practically jumping the whole three-hour shift. Henry had been side eyeing me all day, possibly worried I was on drugs or something.

“So, Paul’s going to pick me up and I’d like for you to meet him.” I told Henry as we stocked the shelves, or as I stocked them, and he micromanaged me.

“Eh okay.” He grumbled, I smiled, excited.

As 12 came I was practically glued to the window. Seeing Sam’s truck pull up my chest had a weight lifted off that I didn’t know was there. Pauls stocky figure walked up to the front door, and I beckoned him over to where I stood.

“Where’s this Henry then?” he asked, trying to seem calm.

“This way!” he must’ve been taken back by my excitement as he gasped slightly as I dragged him to the back of the store. “Henry! This is Paul.”

I watched as Pauls deflated face turned quickly into annoyance and relief as he saw Henry, who looked him up and down, grumbled and asked him if he could pick up some boxes for him. Paul agreed, but it didn’t feel like he had much choice in the matter. After ten minutes of Paul moving boxes around for Henry, I finally got him away, saying goodbye we left the store.

“You minx.” He laughed, opening my door for me.

Laughing I asked him what he was talking about.

“All morning. All morning! I spent worrying some hot bachelor called Henry had stolen your heart! Jared was getting annoyed at how pissy I was acting!” he whined, driving to LaPush.

We made it to first beach without Paul ripping my head off from annoyance. I tried not to dwell too hard on his blatant admission to his jealousy. But it made my head spin.

But he went silent as we walked to the rocks on the southside of the beach. Whatever he was about to tell me was very serious, and I was ready to hear. As we sat down, he looked at the necklace I was wearing, the citrine he bought me.

“You know when I bought you that necklace, I had no idea how beautiful it was.” He said, slowly looking up into my eyes.

“What do you mean? The lady handed it to you, I saw you look down at it.” I asked, searching his eyes for whatever he was trying to tell me.

“What do you remember about imprinting?” he asked, his hand lightly holding onto mine, the other splayed against the rocks. He took me off guard which must be visible on my face as he laughed at my expression.

“I remember you telling me about the imprint who saved the tribe from the vampires by sacrificing herself.” It was a harrowing tale, one that even as children Paul and I treaded on lightly.

“Uh huh, anything else?” he probed.

“I know how the elders described the imprint to feel.” At his silence I continued “that the universe centres around them,” I was whispering to him now, “that it is a love of the souls, bonded and combined.” He nodded.

“Anything else?”

“Paul why are you asking me this?” dread filled me, what if he had imprinted on someone else, I would respect it and understand but telling me like this had to be some form of torture. Deep down I knew that wasn’t the case.

“I imprinted on you.” My head whirled. Everything else became singular as I looked at Paul Lahote who became a multitude. “I was scared I’d imprint on someone else, and it’d be me loosing my agency in life you know,” I did, it was what I was worried about. “But I imprinted on you, at the beach. And I’ve always been in love with you. When we were kids and you would always climb the highest tree, never scared if you fell. When we’d braid each other’s hair. It’s always been you, even the fates agree.” The wind was knocked out of his lungs as I practically jumped onto him. My arms around his neck, his around my waist.

I pulled away. Remembering how this conversation started. “What did you mean, when you said you didn’t know how beautiful the necklace was?”

“That’s the other thing, turns out when we shift for the first time, we go colourblind.”

“What?”

“Wolves, they are naturally colourblind, Sam thinks that’s why we lose it, Jared and I used to think it was just another way the fates could steal life from us.” I listened intently. “That was until Sam imprinted on Emily. He said it was the most overwhelming experience of his life, not only because of the horrible family drama but because it was the first time in months, he had seen colour. We realised then that the only way we could see truly again was when we imprinted. You have to understand how terrifying it was after we’d first shifted, I thought I was dying” He took a deep, steadying breath. “After I first shifted you sent me a picture, do you remember?”

“Not really.” I admitted.

“It was of that cloud with the colours on it.” I nodded, remembering. It was a pileus cloud I’d seen in my back garden; he pulled out his phone. Scrolling sheepishly past the texts from him asking to talk to me and then texts from me, begging for an answer. He landed on a picture I sent, on the pileus cloud, they have colours sitting on them, rainbows laying on the soft clouds of the sky. Had I been taking my sight for granted? Spending my whole life gazing while he had it stolen from him?

“I cried for hours when you sent me this, I couldn’t see it, Sam had told me to cut off all contact with you and all I needed was you to- I don’t know- explain the colours to me since I couldn’t see them.” He breathed heavily; I could see the anger weighing on his shoulders once more. I didn’t interrupt him, just placed a hand on his thigh as an attempt to soothe. He smiled gently at this, still looking at the cloud. “It was two days after I’d shifted for the first time, and I was always so overwhelmed. I kept snapping and shifting in a fit of rage.”

As he waited for a response from me, I finally formed a semi-coherent sentence.

“I would’ve done the same. I can’t imagine how it- losing that- I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. If it’s anyone’s fault it’s those bloodsuckers.” He laughed. Smiling at me. We spoke for what felt like hours, it probably was but I didn’t mind. “I’m sorry to unload all of this onto you. I didn’t want to drag you into it, but you have to realise you call the shots, all you.”

“Is this why Sam didn’t pick me up yesterday?” I asked, remembering the hasty text Sam had sent me yesterday afternoon.

“Yeah,” he blushed, “I got angry at him, and he spent the whole day trying to convince me.”

“Couldn’t he just demand it?” the authority Sam had over the boys couldn’t be questioned, but it was a natural thing to him I felt it too.

“Yeah, but I know that he wanted me to make the choice, you’re my imprint after all.” He smiled, putting a hair behind my ear.

The sun had begun to set when Paul and I stopped talking, we’d spoke for hours. Catching up on each other’s lives, I told him about my fight with Quil and how I was feeling about Bella, and he listened. He told me about his dad, who’d decided to go work down south for a few months, leaving Paul the house to himself. That even though he gets the entire one-story building to himself he prefers to stay at Emily’s, he’d always hated being alone. He watched the sun set and I watched him. How it reflected on his clear skin, how his short hair was growing back. He’d explained that they’d all cut their hair after their first shift as to now only be practical but because they were grieving, grieving themselves. Paul was growing his hair again, determined to have a piece of himself back again, the hair length only mattered on the first few shifts. No one was sure why.

Going back to Sam’s truck I hold onto Paul’s hand, pulling him to a stop halfway across the beach. Getting closer to him I felt the warmth radiate from him, he couldn’t help but become the sun. The confused look on his face amused me, as I pulled him in and kissed him. His hand let go of mine as he wove his arms around my waist. My hands going to his back and his hair. He didn’t drive back to Emily’s. We spent the night in his house, the blue walls of his bedroom were known better than my own. Making out on his bed I sat on his lap, pulling his shirt of and then my own he grinned up at me.

“You’re so beautiful.” I didn’t say anything as I unhooked my bra, his jaw dropped slightly, and I blushed. He pulled his own jeans off and then switched our positions, so I was on my back as he took my white trousers of, discarding them somewhere in the room. I felt his lips on mine again which stopped me from staring at his well-defined chest, my hands felt him completely. I reached into his boxers as he whined slightly into my mouth at my slow and teasing actions.

“Don’t play with me.” He whispered into my ears as he ripped his boxers off, slowly taking my underwear off. As I felt him align himself, I looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but love.

Three weeks had passed since I found out about Paul’s imprint. Summer had begun to spread itself thinly and form into fall. I’d spoken to Quil, but he could tell I was hiding something. Especially since Jake had abandoned him without word and so did I. I knew he wanted to be apart of whatever was going on, but we all hoped he would never have to know, never feel the pain they all went through.

I spent most nights at Emily’s and some at Pauls but few and few at home. I wasn’t sure why my parents trusted my choices so much, but I figured they trusted Paul and I’d been a well-behaved teen. They did, however, begin to question why Bella Swan was constantly coming over asking for me. I couldn’t tell her. I still wasn’t over her not telling me anything. But Jake had ghosted her, just after I did. After the Cullen did. She had other friends, but it felt like a really shitty thing to do, I knew if I saw her, I’d just tell her everything. Even if she wouldn’t do the same for me.

I was at Emily’s when Embry, Jared, and Bella Swan herself came into the kitchen. She looked at me in shock and I gestured to the seat beside me, she shook her head. As Emily and I were informed on how Bella found herself in this predicament I laughed at the thought of Jake and Paul fighting, it didn’t surprise me. But I was shocked at Bella slapping him, she defended herself explaining she was angry and didn’t know we’d made up at this point. She didn’t know much. Jared told her that the pack was faster and better than the leaches, Bella seemed to feel more comfortable.

Sam, Jake, and Paul came into the house, Bella seemed to stow herself away in the corner. Her face went bright red after Paul apologised to her and kissed me, Sam complimented how well she took seeing two men turn into wolves in front of her and she laughed it off.

“How are you feeling?” Paul asked as I climbed into bed beside him.

“Tired, Bella gave me a hard time about me ignoring her, she’s right I guess.” Facing him in bed I tried to savour how the moon bounced off him. How he seemed to glow in the blue moonlight. He disagreed, but I knew Paul was biased he’d never really trusted Bella.

“What about Quil have you made up your mind on what you’re going to do?” He asked, kissing my nose as he pulled me to his chest.

“I’m going to go to his house tomorrow. I can’t tell him anything, but I need him to know I’m still his friend and I still love him. He’s one of my closest friends, his love is tough but its true you know?”

“I know.”

“How are you feeling?”

“everything’s getting calmer, but the red leech is still circling, these hikers need to learn to stay on the trail for their own sake.” He laughed; it wasn’t a happy laugh but an exhausted one. “Plus, Quil really might shift soon, I’m not sure how I feel about you going to see him in person.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Doesn’t make me worry any less.” He was holding me so close, our legs intertwined.

“He knows me better than anyone, which is scary but I won’t talk to him about the fight it doesn’t matter to me anymore. I can’t not have him in my life, it feels so good to be known so well. And not in the way you know me,” I clarified, “he knows me in a way that is tried and true, its not as intimate as how you know me, Quil challenges me, I challenge him. I can’t stand ignoring him.”

Paul nodded, he understood. He just hoped he didn’t shift in front of me.

“I love you.” He whispered into my hair.

“I love you more.” I whispered back, falling into a perfect sleep.

“Are you happy being with Paul?” Quil asked, grey hoodie swamping his tall figure.

“Yes.” I replied, arms crossed over my chest.

“I’m not surprised.” He sighed. Then, crossing the front room he looked out of his front window. “You really hurt me, you know.”

“I know.”

“And you can’t even tell me why!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You, Embry and Jake can’t tell me a single thing!” he yelled, still not looking at me. I had prepared for this, for him to hate me. I just didn’t expect it to feel so horrible.

“I’m sorry, Quil, I really am.” He looked at me, eyes desperate.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered. Tears in my eyes I ran to him, colliding with his chest we both cried on each other. “Remember we’re not keeping score, no arguments-”

“No winners.” I finished; we didn’t keep score.

As he pulled away, we both wiped at the tears streaming down our faces.

“Lahote? Really?” he laughed; I punched him in the arm. “Ow! Okay, okay.”

For now, everything was okay. I could handle okay.

pauls pinterest board

an:// i hoped you all loved reading this as much as i loved writing it! you can see why its taken me so long to actually write this :') Tumblr always gets rid of my paragraph spacing it kills me:( the word doc for this fic is 19 pages long! this is the longest fic i've written, im very proud of it!! requests are open, take care of yourself. i love you- em x

@ribbons-in-your-hair @notperfect-justme @thebestrouge [you guys asked me to tag you if i wrote anything about this headcannon! i hope you enjoy it!]

[ihavemanyhusbands]

I Found My Love in Portofino

Duncan Vizla x Assassin!FemReader

Also on AO3

Summary: Despite your promise to stay away, the lure of Portofino -- and who you might find there -- is too irresistible. Part 2 to The Black Kaiser's Nightmare

WC: 5.3k words

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), enemies to lovers speedrun into the bed, semi-public sex, mentions of violence, play fighting, breaking shit all over the place, abundant cursing, rough sex (unprotected, don't do it at home!), angst (but there’s a happy ending dw), I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything!

You are responsible for your own media consumption!

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Sunshine, a gorgeous view, and the fragrant smell of the sea. What more could you possibly need? 

Some dignity, perhaps.

But maybe you’d lost all of it on the other side of the world almost a year ago, buried under many layers of snow. Along with one too many promises you weren’t certain you could keep.

Then again, you’d desperately wanted a vacation somewhere warm, hadn’t you? And Portofino was beautiful that time of year, undeniably so. It was nearly impossible to resist its allure. 

All you had to do was keep to yourself and not let your eyes wander in search of a familiar silhouette. Eat some amazing food, drink some great wine, and maybe brush up on your Italian. Nothing else. How hard could it be, really?

A few days had already passed with no issues, but at all times, there was the slightest prickle of awareness at the back of your neck. But still, you didn’t search.

At least you were slowly building a nice tan, which was long overdue. You’d spent most of your days at the beach, alternating between dips in the ocean and sprawling out on a towel to air dry. It was as close as you’d gotten to true peace in a long time.

Sometimes, when the waves rolled over you, they felt like a lover’s embrace. Powerful and all-consuming, right on the verge of being agonizing. The familiarity of this feeling and these sudden romantic notions were irritating, but you were always a creature of incandescent want. A fatal flaw, most likely.

When the sun began to set, hunger was the only thing that could pull you away. You’d found a place that you liked, which was perhaps a little too pricey, but the view was unbeatable and the food was definitely worth coming back for. On top of that, you felt like you deserved to spoil yourself at least a little bit.

You sat at your usual table, a salty breeze tussling your hair. A passing waiter smiled and nodded at you, already knowing your order. You smiled back, pushing your sunglasses atop your head. 

The world was awash in golden light, the waves glittering like a dream in which swimmers basked. For a moment, as you stared off into the middle distance, your mind was blissfully blank. Not a worry to ruin things.

But then suddenly…

“Your champagne, signorina,” a voice said as an empty flute was set on the table. “And may I just add… you look ravishing when you are so relaxed. It really does suit you.”

You whipped around immediately, eyes widening and heart thumping like a war drum.

“You!” You hissed through clenched teeth, gripping your dinner knife.

Duncan, disguised as a waiter, smiled at you impishly as he poured the champagne. He was the picture of calm, unbothered by the real threat of another stab from you.

“I know you must’ve missed me terribly, but let’s not make a scene now,” he said easily. “I suppose your busy schedule had an opening after all?”

“I happen to like Italy, if you have to know,” you huffed, grabbing the flute and taking a sip. “I told you I wasn’t going to look for you, and I didn’t. You found me.”

“You made it rather easy, but I let you have a few days.”

You gestured at his attire. “And this is how you chose to approach. Real sneaky of you.”

His grin only broadened. “What can I say? I wanted to serve you.”

Annoyance flared to life inside of you, but it was paired with a familiar feeling that made you tightly cross your legs. You pursed your lips for a moment, but you didn’t really want to give him the satisfaction of seeing he was getting to you. 

Instead, you leaned back in your chair with an equally sly grin and said, “So do it, then. You can only keep me waiting for so long…”

He nodded once, straightening up. “Right away. I’ll be back in a moment.”

As he walked away, your body relaxed and you let out a long exhale. Running a hand down your face in frustration, you chastised yourself again for not steeling your will more in the time you were apart. You glanced over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t watching you and slumped in your chair. 

A few restless minutes passed as you waited, but still he didn’t return. You drummed your fingers on the table as your impatience grew into frustration. Then you figured, this was probably his plan, right? To try and get under your skin as much as possible, make up for lost time. It definitely seemed to be his favorite activity. Or one of them, at least. 

Fuck it. Who said you couldn’t retaliate just a little bit? 

You downed the champagne in one go, perhaps for courage, perhaps just because you needed a reason to justify your recklessness. Standing, you made your way inside under the pretense of going to the restroom. You hadn’t really planned what you were going to do, but still you wandered by the kitchen.

From what you could see, he wasn’t there, which made you frown in confusion. It wasn’t a big establishment, so there weren’t many places where he could be. Half-dejected, you walked into the single-stall bathroom… and immediately the door slammed shut behind you, lock clicking into place. 

Before you could process anything, strong arms enveloped you, pulling you against a solid chest. Duncan put a finger to his lips in a motion for silence, right before he threw himself on you, claiming your mouth. You practically melted against him, any sort of animosity you held forgotten for a moment.

But then, when the shock passed, you kissed him back roughly. You tugged at his hair and bit his bottom lip, letting him retaliate by pressing you against the wall, as if punishing both him and yourself for caving so easily to your desires.

“Already breaking promises, huh?” he said between kisses, chuckling as your hands briskly tried to undo his pants.

“Shut up,” you grumbled. “Or I’m gonna put your mouth to better use this time.”

“That reminds me…”

Abruptly, he gathered you in his arms and set you on the edge of the sink. He kneeled in front of you, reaching past the edge of your sundress and tugging loose the strings of your bikini bottom.

“I did say I would serve you,” he grinned, scooting closer and placing your legs on his shoulders. “Let’s see if you’ll be able to keep quiet now.”

You couldn’t keep your chest from heaving as he fully removed the fabric, tossing it to one side. He kissed his way up your inner thigh, his scruff lightly tickling the sensitive flesh. You suppressed a small shudder, readjusting your position. 

As his tongue dipped directly into the source of your ache — the best way to properly savor you — you held onto his head with one hand and gripped the edge of the sink with the other. He groaned, breath hot against you, and trailed his tongue up to your clit.

He guided himself by your reactions — the small spasms of your muscles, your hitching breaths and the subtle hums of your concealed moans. He barely came up for air, content with the possibility of asphyxiation if it meant he’d never get the taste of you out of his mouth.

The precise, relentless way in which he pleased you nearly drove you to madness. His tongue circled around your clit slowly, almost teasingly, but whenever you were about to voice his frustration, he did the complete opposite to keep you on the edge. You looked down and met his gaze for a moment, fire burning in his eyes. The intensity of it made your pussy clench around his fingers, which he’d just added into the mix.

Your back arched, head resting against the mirror behind you. Your eyes were closed in bliss, knees drawing together around his head as you felt the beginning of an orgasm forming.

“Yes…” you sighed. “Yes! Right there!”

And that was all he needed to hear to ramp up the intensity further. Your body trembled, sweat-slick hand almost slipping off the porcelain. Your spine arched further, as if possessed, and a ragged moan escaped you as you came undone. Pleasure felt electric as it swept over you, and he moaned along with you as he helped you ride it out all the way.

As you were left panting heavily, limbs still shaky, he pulled back to look at you and licked his lips. You brought your legs off his shoulders and he stood in order to undo his pants, the hard imprint of his cock straining against the fabric almost painfully. Once it was free, he spat in his hand and stroked himself to spread the saliva. 

“Get inside me,” you pleaded quietly, urging him closer, eyes still shiny with want. “Please, fuck, I need you inside me.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist this time and he guided himself into you slowly. He muttered your name under his breath as he bottomed out, leaning down to touch his forehead to yours.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the way he seemed to fully envelop you. The heat emanating from him, his smell flooding your nostrils, and even the stretch of him inside you was divine… But you weren’t able to dwell on these thoughts as he began to move. 

His large hands held you up by your hips as he pounded into you, no longer holding back. It seemed he had missed you just as much, and all he could do was make up for lost time. 

He leaned down once more to kiss you as it became harder for you to contain your noises. More of your weight, combined with his, was leaning on the sink by then. As he hit that spot inside you that made your body jerk, you heard a crack.

You tried to ignore it for a moment as his movements turned erratic, grip tightening on your skin. He grunted with each thrust, snapping his hips roughly as you clawed at his shoulders. 

Then his whole body tensed, and he pressed all the way into you in one final thrust. The sound that left him was nearly animalistic as he spilled his release inside of you… and it was at that moment that the sink gave out completely.

The porcelain loudly shattered against the linoleum floor as it broke off the wall. The newly exposed pipe gushed water, the puddle quickly spreading. Duncan caught you in his arms before you could fall as well, stumbling a little as he adjusted his position.

“Shit, that was my bad…” he panted. “I got a little carried away.”

The two of you dissolved into a fit of nervous laughter as the reality of the situation really settled in. Reflexively, you had wrapped your arms around his neck, your faces close together.

You could feel his pulse was just as hurried as yours, both of you still coming down from your highs. You avoided prolonged eye contact as you drew away with an amused grin, smacking his arm.

“Real smooth, breaking shit on your first day on the job,” you said.

He started to laugh, but suddenly, there was loud knocking on the door.  A voice called in Italian to ask if everything was okay, the doorknob jiggling to no avail. You and Duncan looked at each other in a millisecond of panic before hastily starting to re-dress.

“Fuck, we have to get out of here,” you hissed as he helped you onto your feet, holding you for a moment as your legs wobbled. “Can’t we have a reunion where we don’t wreak havoc for once?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head as he buttoned up his pants. “I don’t think it’s possible.”

You rolled your eyes but said nothing, intent on assessing your options. The banging at the door didn’t stop, and you figured soon enough they’d get a key to open it. There was a window that seemed large enough for you to fit through, but you weren’t sure Duncan’s large frame would make the cut.

“One moment please! Everything’s fine!” You yelled back before turning to Duncan and lowering your voice. “I just realized I forgot my stuff out there.”

“I’ll go get it,” he said, ushering you towards the window and handing you your bikini bottoms. “I’ll meet you outside.”

You nodded, appreciative and just slightly flustered at the idea of having to sneak out commando while you were still holding in his… Well, that was probably the least of your worries at that very moment. One thing at a time.

“Try to leave them some money, too. We’ve done enough damage.”

He snorted. “Just wait ‘til we get to the hotel.”

You bit back your retort and instead focused on climbing out of the window without leaving a snail trail. Glancing around to make sure you were alone, you made your way to the front of the restaurant surreptitiously. Twice you had to stop and hide as you neared passerby, still jittery with adrenaline. 

It was a thrill that felt both agonizing and yet somehow very arousing. You waited in a side alley, clamping your thighs together as you leaned against the wall. You just hoped Duncan wouldn’t get himself in deeper shit and take more drastic measures. He wasn’t charming enough to get out of trouble with just words, as you were well aware. 

Finally, he emerged from the restaurant after what seemed like forever, dressed in casual clothes. You lifted your arm so he could see where you were, and he hurried over.

“How did you—” you began to ask, but you were interrupted by him clasping your wrist and dragging you away.

“Don’t ask,” he said. “But just so you know, I did get a couple of high-fives on my way out.”

—————————-

As it turned out, Duncan had been staying at the hotel next to yours. You had to stop to get his luggage first since he’d checked out of his room that morning, already having assumed he’d be staying with you. 

You’d raised your eyebrows and scoffed at his overconfidence. Of course, you should’ve expected something like that to happen, but you’d been too caught up on whether you’d actually run into him or not.

The casualness between you felt strange, particularly given your history. He was definitely more at ease than he’d been a year ago, but uneasiness was like second nature to you. Sure, you were enjoying this new dynamic with him so far, but you weren’t sure how far was too far. 

Fucking was one thing, but being on vacation together… You shook your spiraling thoughts out of your head as you led him through your hotel and up to your room. One thing at a time.

“And what would you have done if I decided not to give you the time of day?” You asked as you swiped the keycard to your room. “Sleep on a bench somewhere?”

“Oh please, haven’t I proven to be irresistible?” He said, tilting his head to the side as he smiled slyly.

“Yeah, well, I’m not covering the hotel costs for both of us, just so you know.”

He scoffed, but you could tell he wasn’t actually offended. “I can pay you with my body, that should be more than enough.”

You bit down an amused grin and said nothing, instead turning on the lights and showing him where he could put his stuff. He set it all down without real care as you began undressing, making him freeze on the spot. 

But you weren’t trying to seduce him, at least not then, for there was only one thing on your mind. Your skin felt sticky with sea salt and sweat, your hair was all tangled by the wind, and there was still that little problem between your legs to take care of. 

“Care to rinse off, then? I know I need to,” you said, casually stepping into the bathroom. “Shower’s got room for two.”

You got in before hearing his response, starting by washing your hair under the stream of hot water. As you were rinsing off the shampoo, eyes closed, you heard him get in. Your other senses were all too aware of his nearness, making you jump a little at an unexpected touch on your hand. 

When you were able to open your eyes again, you saw he was washing himself. The way the soap suds slid down his muscles made you swallow hard, and he was smiling deviously when you moved to let him rinse off. He sighed with contentment at the water’s warmth, slicking his hair back, and you couldn’t help but keep ogling him. 

Maybe he wasn’t so wrong about being irresistible… He really was beautiful.

When he turned around, you quickly averted your gaze and reached for the bar of soap, but he shook his head. “Allow me.”

He lathered some soap between his hands, taking it upon himself to wash your body. He kept eye contact as he started with your shoulders and arms, moving slowly but purposefully. Your limbs were loose as you let him keep going, adjusting you this way and that so he didn’t miss a spot.

Even as he reached more sensitive areas, his touch was tender rather than lascivious. Looking at the scars on each other was like a trip down memory lane, but it wasn’t a bitter remembrance. In fact, you felt yourself softening, almost vulnerable. So much stubbornness, so much time wasted, but it all had somehow led to such an intimate moment.

When he was done, you rewarded him with a soft kiss, more chaste than anything you’d had so far. You shut off the water and both of you got out to dry off quietly. It felt like talking might burst the bubble of… whatever feeling the two of you were so precariously sharing at that moment.

An idea struck you then, and you discarded your towel somewhere along the way. He watched as you opened the sliding doors to the private balcony, the faint light silhouetting you. 

Up there, the faint roar of the ocean could still be heard. It was moonlight’s turn to glitter in the dark waves, but you put your back to the view as you gave him an inviting look. 

Truth be told, you wanted to indulge in him as much as you could. A sense of urgency accompanied your arousal, like the opportunity might not come around again. Was it a sign? Could it be fate’s way of making you say goodbye? 

The thought scared you more than you were willing to admit, so you decided to be mindless once again. You let the sea breeze envelop you once again, but soon after his arms took place, drawing you into his warmth. He searched your face for something, but you averted your gaze as you ran your hands up and down his chest.

“You’re quiet,” he noted. “You haven’t even threatened to kill me at least once since we got here.”

You shrugged, going on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. “Does it matter?”

“Well, you know the violence is what gets me going…” he said with a smirk, but you could still see some concern in his eyes. 

You kissed his bottom lip enticingly, returning the smirk. “Let’s tear each other apart, then. For good this time.”

And so he cupped the back of your head and crushed his lips against yours. The kiss was sloppy and desperate, tongues dragging against each other. You reached between your bodies to touch him, fingers grazing the velvety underside of his hardening cock.

For a moment he lost himself to your touch, mindlessly chasing your lips as you withdrew, teasing him. You stroked the head with the tips of your fingers, and his hips bucked in search of more friction.

“Not gonna be so easy now,” you chastised playfully. “Gotta earn your stay.”

He gripped your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. His free hand roamed up your chest, splaying over your sternum and feeling your quickening heartbeat. He bent down to kiss your neck and collarbones, humming in fiendish delight as he heard your soft moan.

“You little devil,” he murmured. “You should know I won’t make it easy for you either.”

And so commenced a battle for dominance, in which the two of you did not play fair. You practically tackled him back onto the sunbed, frantically trying to pin his arms down. Your thighs pressed against his sides tightly, holding him in place. 

He had a great view of you from that angle, so he got easily distracted, his struggles weakening. But just when you thought you had him, he suddenly grabbed your wrists and managed to flip you under him. You blinked up at him in momentary surprise, but then scoffed.

Your legs and arms wrapped around him as you tried to crush him in a bear hug. You felt his erection pressed against your abdomen, and he grunted with the effort of trying to wriggle from your grasp.

Despite the exertion from wrestling each other, you found yourself smiling, genuinely having a good time. Your cheeks were flushed and you were panting heavily. He kissed all over your face, perhaps in an attempt to distract you, but you gave in amiably for the time being.

“Where’s your knife now?” He murmured against your skin, taunting, his breath close to your ear.

But instead of responding, you pulled his head back by the hair and brought your lips to his. Your other hand rested on his throat, like a silent threat, but it was just a little too tender to actually be one.

The stars wheeled across the sky unnoticed, as the two of you were too wrapped up in a frenzy of desire, all restraints loosened. Eager hands and eager mouths, the violent delicacy of your bodies curled around each other like snakes. Everything else truly ceased to exist.

Not much of the hotel room was spared either, lamps knocked over, framed artwork half shattered on the floor, and different things haphazardly strewn about. At last, the bed became the lion’s den, where the last of the raging fire simmered out, leading into a sated slumber.

You awoke before him, too restless from an influx of dreams you couldn’t make heads or tails of. The early morning had a melancholic blue tint to it, barely illuminating the room. You watched him for a moment, trying to burn him into memory as you followed the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

Keeping your thoughts at bay was becoming harder by the minute, especially wrapped up in his warmth and his smell. Suddenly, you couldn’t bear being in the bed anymore. You left a featherlight kiss on his shoulder before sliding out as quietly as you could. A certain bitterness slid down the back of your throat as you gathered clothes, padding over to the bathroom and dressing mechanically. 

Any sort of logic or reasoning seemed to have left you as well, since you were prepared to flee with just what you were wearing. In that moment, you believed perhaps you could outrun the consequences, and yourself in the process.

But just as you opened the bathroom door and took one step out, you heard the clicking drag of metal and felt the coolness of it closing in around your wrist. You looked down to find yourself handcuffed to Duncan, who was only partially dressed. He looked at you intensely, knowingly even, pinning you in place. Your heart leaped to your throat, stopping any words you might want to say. 

“I told you I wouldn’t make it easy either,” he said, his voice devoid of any humor.

He reached out with his free hand, but you weaved away from it like a skittish stray dog that’d been kicked too many times in its life. Your immediate response was a punch that he took in stride. In fact, he let you try and shove him, although the handcuffs would take you along with him. Your frustration only grew, and this time fighting him was different, more desperate – like a cornered animal.

“When are you going to stop fighting your desires?” He asked firmly, seizing your other wrist. “You can’t just run away this time. You owe me that much.”

“Duncan, please,” you said softly, looking down.

“Please, what?” He pressed.

“Why are we kidding ourselves?” You sighed. “We’re just horny and really fucking lonely…and I guess it helps that we understand each other. But we both know it can’t go beyond that.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t exactly have a profession that allows commitment…” you said, but he only stared, forcing you to continue. “What if they decided to assign us to kill each other?”

“I would gladly fake my death for you.”

You pursed your lips, forcing down the tears that once again crawled up your throat. Damn him and the way he made butterflies flutter around your stomach! 

“But I won’t let it come to that,” he added. “I’ve already decided to retire early.”

You looked up at him in disbelief, eyes wide. “Really? Just like that?”

“Well I’ve wanted out for some time, but you kind of… helped me make up my mind,” he said, searching your eyes to try and solve the riddle of your feelings. 

“And you thought, what? That I would quit too?”

He shook his head. “No. What you do is up to you. All I want is a quiet life, and to settle in one place so you’ll always know where I am.”

“Okay, and what if I have to be gone for a long time? Won’t you get lonely?” You asked, a painful spasm in your chest as you thought about it further. “What if you meet someone else? I mean, hell, I don’t even really know what it is you want with me…”

He frowned, truly unable to fathom your stubbornness. “Are you fucking serious right now? We’re handcuffed together. Do I have to spell it out further?”

Again, you sighed in frustration, closing your eyes for a moment. You hadn’t felt such a strong connection with someone in a long time, especially since you believed you were better off alone. Those you were close to could invariably become collateral, and that was one thing you simply couldn’t stomach.

And when you’d said that you understood each other, that had been the truth. Not many – if anyone at all – that weren’t in the business could understand your lifestyle. The guilt that came in waves, threatening to pull you under. The sleepless nights, the mastery of clinical detachment, the constant need to hide and stay vigilant. It was certainly not easy, but you’d simply gotten used to it over time.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t tired of living that way. Still, you hesitated, feeling yourself toe closer to the edge of the cliff. 

“What if it’s just the excitement?” You asked, opening your eyes once more.

“It’s been years now… if it had died out, so would we,” he sighed, seeming a little aggrieved. “Or what? You don’t believe love and violence intersect?”

“Love!” You gasped, all pretenses shattered now that one of you had finally said that word. “That’s…”

“Is that what scares you most?”

After a moment’s hesitation, where you fidgeted uncomfortably, you shook your head. “I’m barely evenly acquainted with it, but it’s enough for me to know it doesn’t prevent someone from leaving.”

He nodded once in understanding, not having an argument for that. “And you think I’m an expert on it?”

You shrugged, not entirely sure of his romantic history. Still, you could at least tell that it had not been kind to him either. He pulled you closer, lacing his fingers through yours as if the cuffs weren’t enough to keep you.

“Despite it all, haven’t we inevitably found a way back to each other? Sure, the flame that kept drawing us at first might have been hatred, but pettiness could only take us so far…” He straightened so you could appraise him better, gesturing to himself. “I proudly wear the scars you have given me, and I would welcome many more.”

Your vision became blurry all of a sudden, though you couldn’t understand why. At least not until you felt a tear streaming down your cheek, which you wiped away defiantly. He rested his chin atop your head as you leaned against his arm, not looking at him.

“And if you think I will break your heart, what guarantee do I have you won’t break mine first?”

“You don’t,” you admitted honestly, which maybe was the whole point.

“And yet, it is still yours to break.”

You chuckled, but it sounded more like a choked sob. “You’re killing me, old man. What am I to do with so much?”

“You don’t have to carry it all on your own,” he said, bringing his free hand to your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. 

His expression was fully unguarded, like an open book for you to read. There was a vast depth there that seemed to invite you to uncover it, should you actually take the chance. 

And beneath it all, a most desperate hope. One you could recognize, for you had seen it in your own eyes before. It struck you like an arrow, knocking the breath out of you.

One of the deadliest men on Earth utterly undone by one of the most common afflictions — that of the heart. Love.

It was a gift, a real promise beyond what words could express. 

And so, you decided to let yourself fall.

The words left you before you could stop them. “I’m going to retire, too.”

He blinked in surprise, but you barreled on. “It’s not a life I want to keep living. It’s not life at all, really. I was just never really sure if there was anything else for me. But now, nothing is waiting for me out there anymore… I have all I want standing right here next to me.”

Oh, how his eyes brightened at your words. Like the sun rising over the horizon, bringing a new dawn. He wiped your damp cheeks, even if a smile had already spread across your face. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest like a caged bird as he kissed you. It was sweet and unhurried, the culmination of all the yearning and long-repressed desire.

“And what happens now?” You asked softly.

“Anything we want. The world is our oyster,” he said, giving you a pointed look. “You know, there are lots of beautiful chapels around here.”

You scoffed. “Be serious right now!”

“I am being serious.”

You smacked his arm and rolled your eyes, but still felt a swell of giddiness in your chest. “Don’t push your luck, old geezer”

“Can you please come back to bed now? We really should get more sleep,” he said, tugging you along with him.

“Can you at least uncuff us first?”

“No.”

----

[bakuliwrites]

MC Falling Asleep on M6's Lap (Baewatch)

It's been a hot minute since I posted anything and, unfortunately, I don't have the brain power to do any new content. But I figured I would post a headcanon from my old blog. Someone had requested this a long time ago and I loved writing it. The idea was so cute! I love the Baewatch tale and the bonfire scene at the end is so fun. So, here you go! Also, updated my banners just to try out something new :)

Asra is more than prepared for you to fall asleep on his lap. In fact, he can sense your exhaustion before even you can. He gives you a knowing smirk at your first yawn, leans back where he’s seated in the sand, and offers up his lap for you to lay your head in.

“I’m not sleepy,” you insist, crossing your arms indignantly. But his lap looks pretty inviting. Within minutes, you’re conked out, head cradled by Asra’s legs. He tenderly runs his fingers through your hair, smiling softly down at your slumbering form.

When it’s time to leave, he gently rouses you from your sleep. “MC,” he whispers, carefully shifting you in his lap, “It’s time to go.” Groggily, you rise. Hand in hand, you and Asra walk the length of the beach, back to your room, where you get some much needed rest, snuggled up in his arms <3

You’re already resting your head on Nadia’s lap when you feel the first twinge of exhaustion. Your eyes start to droop, though you try desperately to keep them open. You want to watch Julian’s magical fire display, but you’re just so tired.

Nadia discovers you’re asleep when she looks down to see if you’re enjoying yourself. She smiles to herself, moving a strand of your hair aside that’s fallen in front of your eyes. She thinks you look positively adorable. So adorable, in fact, she feels suddenly compelled to pinch your cheeks (but refrains, not wanting to rudely awaken you).

When it’s time to go, Nadia lays a soft kiss on your forehead and whispers your name. She guides you back to your room, holding you close and keeping you warm in the chilly night air. She makes sure you have everything you need before snuggling up beside you in bed<3

You’re dazzled by the multicolored lights flashing before your eyes, changing with each powder Julian tosses into the fire. There’s so much joy floating around the campfire, you find yourself feeling utterly relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that you lay your head down in Julian’s lap and pass out.

Julian’s too busy showing off his magical powders to notice you’ve fallen asleep, at first. But when he finally does take notice, he makes sure to quiet down. He rubs small circles on your back, gazing thoughtfully down at your peaceful face. He’s glad to see you so restful.

When it’s time to go, he doesn’t bother to try waking you. Instead, he carefully lifts you into his arms and carries you back to your room. He’s so very gentle when he tucks you in, stealthily sliding into bed beside you and cuddling you close <3

Portia practically pulls you into her lap when she notices you yawning. With a wink, she promises she’ll wake you up if anything crazy exciting happens. You smile up at her before falling asleep to the comforting sensation of her combing her fingers through your hair.

You’re knocked out for the remainder of the bonfire. Portia makes mental notes of all the things you’re missing, ready to regale you with all of the nonsense that occurred while you slept. She marvels over the fact that you could sleep through Lucio’s racket (though she did see your face twist in what could’ve been annoyance when he was being particularly loud). She was quick to quiet him down, shooting him a dirty look.

When it’s time to leave, Portia leans in to whisper in your ear, “Come on, cuddle bug. It’s time to go.” She giggles as your eyes flutter open and you flash a quizzical look her way. She’s never called you “cuddle bug��� before and you’re not sure how you feel about it. You can’t help but laugh a little as she guides you back to the room, ready to settle in for the night with you <3

Muriel has been silent, as usual, the whole of the night. But you’ve caught him smiling a few times. He seems a bit mesmerized by the changing colors of the fire. Seeing him relaxed makes you feel even more relaxed than you already were. You lay your head down in Muriel’s lap, which startles him at first, and decide to close your eyes for a minute.

Well, a minute becomes a while. You’re lulled to sleep by Muriel’s warmth, the crackle of the fire, and the gentle rush of the waves. Muriel is rigid when he discovers you’ve fallen asleep on him. He doesn’t move a muscle the entire rest of the night, terrified to wake you up. In fact, he barely breathes in fear of rousing you (something you’ll laugh about later).

When it’s time to go, he awkwardly lifts you from the ground, cradling you gently in his arms. You wake up on the walk back to your room, but he keeps you snuggled up in his embrace. When you reach home, you fall asleep again, wrapped up in his arms <3

In the brief moment that night when Lucio is actually sitting still, you manage to lay your head in his lap. “Don’t you go falling asleep on me, MC!” he teases, catching you yawning, “The night is young, yet!” You roll your eyes at him, settling further in. Secretly, he’s happy you’re cuddling up with him.

Despite Lucio’s hullabaloo, you manage to fall asleep. When he looks down to ask if you want anything else to eat or drink, he notices you’re passed out in his lap. A lot of things go through his mind, all at once. He has half a mind to draw a moustache on you, smiling devilishly at the thought. But he’s also just really delighted that you’re relaxed enough with him to fall asleep.

He lets you rest (though he’s not very good at keeping quiet for you and, in his excitement over the bonfire, he definitely bonks you in the head a couple times with his knee which is followed up by profuse apologies, smooches, and hushes for you to go back to sleep). When it’s time to go, he shakes you awake (a bit unceremoniously), but makes up for it when you return to your room by tucking you into bed and cuddling up beside you <3

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Gentle On My Mind - Chapter 5

Initially set in 1967 when Elvis is filming Clambake. Feeling miserable and trapped after the Colonel banishes Larry and the spiritual texts, Elvis invites Gloria to keep him company through the last five days of filming. Gloria is an aspiring movie editor and more importantly she's a lot of fun. Will she be what Elvis needs to get him out of the depressive funk he's in?

Catch up with the other parts here.

Many thanks to @sissylittlefeather being my beta reader on this one.

Pairing: Elvis x OC - Gloria, a budding film editor.

Word count: 4.2k ish

TWs: Gloria's filthy mouth, angst, infidelity, blowjob, fingering, p in v sex, possessive kink, size kink, spanking, Elvis is quite dominant, think that's about it.

Elvis spends that afternoon’s filming trying very hard to concentrate on his lines and not daydream back to his lunch break, him almost dragging Gloria back to his trailer, both of them giggling like naughty kids and probably making what they were about to do incredibly obvious to half of the film crew. Going through additional takes of some of the opening scenes in the gas station, he fights the urge to think about the feeling of Gloria’s mouth all around him as he leant breathless up against the wall. Tries to forget for a few minutes the puzzle of what it was she’d done with her mouth and hands that had made him come so quickly right down her throat. Between takes, chatting to Shelley about how hot it is and whether that makes LA seem more like Florida, he repeatedly pushes the thought that this was the second time he’d left Gloria full of his come out of his mind. 

Gloria also finds herself a little distracted, her mind drifting back to the fun they’d had at lunchtime. But, as she walks back to his trailer at the end of the day, a little later than usual because she’d got so stuck into what she was doing, she reflects that maybe she’s actually learning enough to get herself a proper job. Or at the very least, enough to make those stuffy old men think that she knows what she’s doing. She bites the skin beside her thumbnail a little, thinking briefly about going back to San Francisco, and then her mind drifts back to Elvis in the trailer earlier, his hand over his mouth so everyone on the film set wouldn’t hear him moaning as she sucked him off. She’s pretty impressed with herself for somehow stuffing all of that dick into her mouth and down her throat, it’s definitely a record. 

“Where you been, honey?” 

Elvis is sprawled on the couch, taking up the entire thing. She looks down at him. 

“Got sucked into editing. I’m really enjoying it, I can’t believe how interesting it is when people actually let you do things rather than just making you get them coffee.” She picks his feet up just enough to give her space to sit down, replacing them on her lap. “Thanks for making it happen it for me.”

“No problem, Glory.”

She tilts her head to the side. “You okay?”

“Hmmm. You ever been to Hawaii?”

“Family vacation in Honolulu a few years ago.”

“Did ya like it?”

She nods, her hands resting on his shins. “Mmm yeah. Beach life. It’s definitely a nice vacation spot. But there are beaches here!” 

Elvis frowns. “Can’t really go to the beach here. Too busy.”

Gloria doesn’t miss a beat. “Not if you went in disguise,” she suggests. “Why don’t we sneak off now and go to the beach and get dinner there? Instead of just sitting in here and eating burgers again.”

Elvis is briefly completely baffled by this turn of events, and he’s about to say he probably needs to take at least one of the guys with him, and that he doesn’t know if there will be food he wants to eat at the beach, and that he really doesn’t go places that are so busy… and then he just doesn’t say any of those things and instead just says “okay.”

Gloria sits for a few seconds blinking in confusion. She had been expecting a little more resistance, but since she hasn’t got it she just pushes his legs out of the way and leaps up off the sofa. 

“Let’s go!”

***

They take her car, and he hides in the backseat as they drive off the set. Gloria has a hard time keeping a straight face driving through the gates, thinking of him in shorts and a denim jacket she’d somehow found for him to wear, lying down as flat as possible. Once they’ve got far enough up the road she pulls over and he gets out and into the front seat. She can’t help giggling at him. She’d jammed a baseball cap on his head and made him wear his shades too, and he looks successfully nothing like himself. He had complained a lot, looking at his reflection in the long mirror in the trailer, but he relented when she put her arms around him and kissed his neck and told him she thought he looked sexy. She wasn’t lying. Looking at him now, once the giggles have subsided, she thinks he looks really good. More casual than usual, which she likes. And he’s not wearing too many clothes. One of her main gripes with the movie, whenever she stops to watch a take or two, is that they’ve over-dressed him. Since it’s meant to be set in Florida, she’d have expected him in shorts and a t-shirt a bit more often. And more sensible shoes. She does have a soft spot for that all-denim outfit, especially remembering him changing out of it and giving her her first glimpse of the outline of that fucking huge dick, but it still seems an odd choice for the movie. 

“What’re you thinking about, Glory?” 

She shakes her head a little and looks over at him. “Your fantastic outfit.”

“I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me.”

“I like it.”

“Even this?” Indicating the baseball cap.

“Even that. In fact, you can leave that on later if you want, in bed.”

She starts to giggle again. Elvis shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I know.”

He smiles as he looks across at her. She’s just put the top down on her car so her golden hair blows gently around her face under her sun hat. Her hazel eyes are shining with amusement and he watches her tanned arms on the steering wheel. She drives comfortably, seat back, keeping her eyes on what she’s doing but never looking remotely bothered by anything that happens. The car never jolts, the whole journey is a very smooth ride and Elvis wonders if he’s ever been driven by a woman who is this good at it. 

“God must’ve sent you to me,” he murmurs, almost to himself. 

“God?” She asks, spinning the steering wheel quickly as she looks for a space to park. “I’m agnostic, I don’t know if he’d have sent me. Probably would’ve wanted you to have a true believer.” 

She sticks her tongue out slightly in concentration as she backs the car up into a space. Elvis frowns slightly. 

“Agnostic?” 

“Hmm yeah. C’mon, we’re good, I’ve just seen a hot dog stand over there too. I bet you like hot dogs.”

“You don’t believe in God?” Elvis asks, following her as she bounds out of the car, barely stopping to lock it before she runs over to get in the line for the stand.

Gloria shrugs her shoulders. “Don’t think we can know so I don’t try. Maybe there is one, maybe there isn’t. Presumably I’ll find out eventually. Two hot dogs please, one with extra mustard.”

Elvis blinks at the heady mix of theology and fast food. He puts his arm around her as they walk down to the beach together. There are a lot of people, but none of them give him a second glance.

“I read the bible every day,” he tells her, somehow becoming deadly serious. “God is an important part of my life.”

She nods. “That’s cool. I wish I could believe in God but I just don’t have it in me. What about here?” She gestures to the bit of sand just in front of them. 

“Sure.” 

They sit down and start to eat. “You just believe in that white bearded guy up in the sky, or anything else?” She asks, with a mouthful of food. 

Elvis laughs and finds himself suddenly less serious again. “I’m interested in a lot of things. I’ve got this book which shows you how to calculate your number, and once you do that you can find out about your destiny and…”

“Numerology!” Gloria declares, completely interrupting him. “I love that shit.”

Elvis is immediately torn between loving her enthusiasm and being embarrassed by how loudly she just cussed.

“I’m a five, look,” she shows him the bracelet on her arm which has the number 5 hanging off it in the form of a golden charm. “What’re you?”

“An eight.”

“Oooooh we’re so compatible!” 

Elvis laughs. He finishes his final bite of hot dog and looks into her eyes. “Well it makes sense that you’re a five. It’s the number of freedom.”

“Yeah and I am still free from my panties, which I have to say is a very dangerous situation on this beach.”

“Oh. You could’ve brought a swimsuit.”

“Well no-one told me that!”

Their eyes sparkle as they tease each other back and forth, getting in a little play fight which ends with Elvis lying on his back in the sand, his cap knocked off, and Gloria half-sprawled on top of him. 

“Okay, so what are eights like then?” She asks, once she’s got her breath back.

“Great leaders,” Elvis replies, then giggles. 

“Oh, great leaders. I see. I’m just a mad impulsive girl who came to the beach with no swimsuit and you’re gonna be the president or something.”

He pulls her closer to him with the arm that’s currently wrapped around her shoulders. 

“It doesn’t look like I’m going to be the president right now, does it? No-one here has recognised me. Not one person.”

She puts her chin on his chest. “You’re in disguise.”

He huffs. “I was wearing a hat.”

They lie there for a while longer, talking about their respective numbers and debating whether Elvis wants to be recognised or not, and then he looks at his watch. 

“Think we should be getting back, Glory. The guys will be wondering where I am.”

***

Gloria notes the look of disappointment on Elvis’ face when he discovers that far from sending out a search party for him, no-one had even realised he hadn’t been in the trailer for the whole evening. 

“Can’t even pay people to give a shit about you,” he mutters, throwing himself melodramatically onto the bed, even though it's still early. 

Gloria kicks off her sandals and tries to dust the sand off her feet before getting onto the bed next to him. “I give a shit about you,” she says quietly, into his neck. 

Elvis is startled into looking down at her. He can’t see her face, buried as it is in the crook of his neck, but she sounds sincere. “I’m sure you do, honey.” He runs his fingers through her hair. 

She doesn't like his tone. It sounds like he’s dismissing her feelings, which had sort of snuck out of her when she wasn’t looking. She does give a shit about him though. It’s hard not to. 

“Well I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Elvis isn’t sure how to respond. He had thought that she just liked sleeping with him. But she has spent a lot of time listening to him over the past few days. 

“Um, thanks,” he mumbles, awkwardly. 

Gloria sighs quietly. Never mind her feelings then. Back to being her usual fun, sunny self. Only one day of filming left anyway. There’s no point in getting deep. 

***

The final day of filming is a busy one for Elvis, and he barely has a moment to himself. He looks longingly at Gloria from time to time, but there’s no opportunity to talk let alone anything else. He keeps thinking back to what she said about giving a shit about him. Running the conversation over and over again in his mind, he feels like he should’ve said something better than thanks, but once he’d missed his initial opportunity she had just started prattling on about numbers again. And not long after that she’d taken her dress off and he’d forgotten all about anything she might’ve said. 

“That’s a wrap!” 

Elvis sighs with relief at the words. It’s fairly late and he’s desperate to be alone with Gloria, on their final day together. Then he remembers the wrap party. There’s no way he’s going to get away without going, and probably staying for most of it. He doesn’t have any excuses. 

***

Gloria flits about the party, talking to anyone and everyone. She loves an opportunity to socialise, and this is even better because she’s making contacts in the industry too. Contacts outside of her daddy and his friends. And because no-one knows who she is, they treat her differently. With respect. She can see Elvis out of the corner of her eye, his flirting with Shelley getting almost completely out of control. She knows he’s trying to get her attention, but she doesn’t care about him flirting with actresses. After all, it’s not as if they’re going to be together after tonight. He’s going home to marry Priscilla. 

***

Elvis is pulling out all the stops with Shelley. Laughing loudly at everything she says that’s remotely funny, leaning in close to her when she’s talking quietly, carefully brushing a strand of hair from her face. Even going so far as to wrap an arm around her waist. Shelley’s enjoying herself but she’s not daft. She can see Elvis’ eyes flicking across to the pretty blonde on the other side of the room to see if she’s noticed what he’s doing. Shelley is amused that Elvis Presley is trying to get a girl’s attention, and in such a roundabout way. She decides to help him out a little. 

“Do you think it would help her notice if I did this?” She asks, putting both of her arms around his neck and looking up into his slightly surprised face. 

“Ah-I-I… I dunno what you’re uh… talking about,” he replies, stumbling over the words but putting his hands on her hips instinctively. 

“Ah come on, yes you do. You’re flirting with me to get her attention!”

“Oh no, baby, I wouldn’t do that… I-I-” 

“If you wanted to talk to me you just had to come over.”

Elvis looks away from Shelley’s amused face to see Gloria standing next to her. 

“Oh-Ah-I… honey, I jus’...” 

Both women laugh as Shelley removes her arms from around his neck. “See you later. Nice working with you again,” she tells him, giving him a kiss on his now burning cheek. 

“You looked busy,” Elvis tells Gloria, sheepishly. 

“I was networking.”

“Networking?”

“Yeah, you know. Making friends who don’t know who my daddy is.”

He nods. “I’m dying to get out of here.”

“Me too. Think you have to do a bit more though,” she nods at a man with a moustache making a bee-line for them. “Let me know when you’re ready to go. You can just come over and tell me this time.”

***

They finally get back to the trailer in the early hours of the morning. They’re barely through the door before they start pulling at one another’s clothes in an attempt to get them off. 

“I’m disappointed I was too busy filming to do this earlier,” Elvis pants, between frantic kisses. 

“Me too,” Gloria moans as he starts to kiss her neck. “And I hate that the party went on for so long. God, I thought we’d never leave.”

He unclasps her bra now that he’s taken her dress off. “When Bill started that speech…” he groans, then slides his mouth over her nipple. 

“The world’s longest, most boring speech, you mean?” She arches into his mouth as her hands find his belt and undo it. 

“Mmmm. Worst. Speech. Ever.” He punctuates each word with kisses that get lower and lower until his mouth is just above her clit. 

She squirms, her hands in his hair trying to push his head further down. He smirks and kisses his way back up her body again, lips finding hers. Moaning into his mouth, she grabs one of his hands and tries to guide it to where she failed to get his head to go. He chuckles as he pulls away from her again. 

“Needy little girl, aintcha?” He teases. 

She nods. “Been needy for you all day, big boy. Feel.” Finally managing to get his hand between her legs, she directs his fingers to run over her soaking pussy. 

He groans. “Bet ya ruined that skirt you were wearing earlier.”

“Yeah, it’s actually a great way to give yourself extra laundry,” she jokes. “As I’m sure you know, Mr. I Don’t Wear Underpants.” 

“Don’t do my own laundry,” he replies, before picking her up and putting her over his shoulder. “Right, you. Bed.”

Gloria squeals and kicks her legs and he gives her a quick sharp slap on the ass. She squeals again, in surprise and delight. Walking the few steps to the bedroom, he throws her down onto the bed so hard she bounces back up slightly. 

“Oooh Mr Dominant!” 

He shakes his head, trying to look stern but unable to keep himself from smiling. “It’s Mr Presley.”

She throws her head back and laughs uncontrollably. “Oh, is that what you want me to call you?”

Still giggling until she finds him on top of her, pinning her hands above her head, his eyes full of lust. “No, you know what I like you to call me. My needy girl.”

She moans a little at the name, trying to wriggle her hands free but unable to get away from his firm grip. “I want you… so bad… big boy,” she whines, arching towards him, desperate for more contact. 

“Think I might want to tease you a little first.”

She can’t resist trying it, despite what he just said. “Yes, Mr Presley.” 

He feels his dick get immediately harder at her words. He hadn’t thought he’d like it, usually people calling him Mr Presley made him feel old. But her cute west coast accent, her fluttering eyelashes and the slightly desperate tone in her voice have changed his mind. He leans down, kissing the skin just beneath her ear. 

“You can keep doing that.”

She bites her lip and rolls her body into his, now he’s that bit closer. “Yes, Mr Presley.”

He groans. Fuck. It’s going to be more difficult to tease her than he thought, if she keeps saying that. It’s going to be very hard for him to not just come in his pants. He kisses her again and then shifts so he can take the rest of his clothes off. Leaning back over her, he starts kissing gently down her body, enjoying watching her squirm trying to get him to move more quickly, deliberately stopping and peppering her with kisses just below her belly button until she’s groaning in frustration and begging him to move lower. 

“Please. Oh fuck. Please. I’m dripping for you.”

His eyes roll back in his head at the description and he decides to give her what she wants, spreading her legs with his palms and kissing her soaking wet pussy. She moans pornographically, hands grabbing his head as she grinds her hips up into his face, completely ignoring the fact that he’s only gently kissing her. He growls against her, vibrations making her moan even more loudly. Grabbing her hands and pulling them off his head, he looks up at her. 

“Don’t think my girl is doing as she’s told.”

She whines and wriggles. “I just want you to touch me…”

Shaking his head, he suddenly grabs her and wrestles with her until he has her over his knee. He brings his hand back and then slaps her hard on one ass cheek. She squeaks. 

“Feel like my girl needs to learn her lesson.”

Gloria rubs her thighs together, desperate for some friction. She’s so turned on she can barely stand it. She’s starting to wonder if she could just just come from him spanking her and calling her his girl. 

“Yes, Mr Presley,” she breathes. 

He bites his lip and tries really hard not to let on how much he’s enjoying this, though he’s sure she must be able to feel his erection digging into her. Slapping her ass again, he watches it jiggle and get red and listens to her moan and whine. Then he slides two fingers into her pussy. 

“Oh, fuck.”

Her head flops down onto the bed as she feels his fingers slowly thrust in and out, pleasure building inside her. Just as she’s starting to really enjoy herself he removes them and slaps her again. She screws her eyes shut and tries to control the noises that are coming out of her mouth as he continues alternating between touching her and spanking her. Eventually she completely loses control. 

“Oh fuck please Elvis please I want you so bad I’m sorry for being a bad girl.”

He chuckles and gently lifts her head with his other hand. “I better put ya out of your misery, huh?”

Her head flops back down again as he starts rubbing her clit quickly, pushing his thumb inside her, listening to the pleasured noises she makes as her orgasm builds quickly and then completely overpowers her. 

“FUCK.” 

If he thought her cussing on the beach was too loud, this was on a completely different scale. He puts his hand over her mouth as he gently rubs her through her high, shushing her. Her hot breath and mumbled curses against his skin. He doesn’t let her lie there for long though, he’s so desperate to have his fill of her.

“On your knees, baby.”

She gets up slowly until she’s kneeling on the bed, looking up at him expectantly. 

“No, not like that. Hands and knees.” He gestures at her to turn around so she’s facing away from him. 

He strokes her ass with one hand and his dick with the other. “All that looking at your ass made me want you like this.”

Her moans start off soft and soon crescendo again as he starts to push inside her. Groaning as he finally bottoms out, he pushes her head down onto the bed. 

“I need you to be quiet.”

She whimpers a little at the feeling of being so stretched in this position. “Yes, Mr Presley.”

Trying his best to hold it together at those words, his hands grip her hips as he starts to move inside her. She presses her face into the bed to muffle the noises she makes as he pulls almost all the way out and then slides in again, repeatedly. Elvis is driving himself crazy too, the intensity of the feeling of her all around his dick is almost too much. He gives up on moving slowly, his thrusts hard and fast now, making her body rock with each one. Her fingers dig into the mattress, trying to stop herself just collapsing on the bed with the force of his movements. He’s pounding her so hard she can feel tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. But it feels so good too. So good that she can feel her second orgasm building in the pit of her stomach.

Elvis is so close it’s almost killing him but he really wants to feel her walls squeeze him again. “Is my good girl going to come again?” He pants. 

“Y-yes… yes Mr Presley…” she pants back, getting up onto her forearms and pushing back against him with every thrust. 

His eyes roll back in his head and then all of a sudden he feels it, the squeeze of her walls around him as she falls forward onto the bed, only the force of him gripping her hips keeping her from collapsing completely. 

“Oh fuck,” he murmurs, and just like the last time it’s only one or two more thrusts before he’s coming too, deep inside her. Letting go of her hips they both collapse in a heap, breathing hard. 

He rolls off her and then pulls her into his arms, covering her face in kisses. She smiles and wraps her arms around his neck. Breath still uneven, he looks at her with grave seriousness. 

“Are you okay Glory? I don’t know what came over me then…”

Her mouth curls into an even bigger smile. “I’m great, thank you, Mr Presley.”

Wrapping a leg around his waist as she watches him cringe a little and blush.

“Oh God you’re never going to stop with that now, are you?”

“Never. Thought you were enjoying it. I know I was.”

He moves to kiss her neck. “Yeah I was,” he murmurs against her skin. “You sure I didn’t take it too far?” He looks up, his face worried. 

“No way. That was so hot. You can throw me around like that any time you want.”

She watches as his face changes from worry to a look that’s almost pride. Then it changes again to sadness as he remembers that “any time” will be over in a matter of hours. 

“Do you have to go back home tomorrow?” He asks, urgently. 

“I don’t have to do anything,” she replies. “But um, no I can stay, if that’s what you’re asking?”

Is that what he’s asking?

“Yes please. Please stay.”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @another-identityofmine @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog

[kehideni]

Part 2 of https://www.tumblr.com/kehideni/756020526614478848/the-time-has-come-the-aroacest-person-ever-will?source=share

Spoilers for season 5

S5E1

When Macaque is going off on Wukong about how his companions are suddenly back and he didn't think that suspicious (which is a valid point btw, when MK forgets to hold his braincells, this season it's Macaque that holds them for him)

Wukong's reaction is to go defensive, because why would he question why they are back, when Macaque is back too.

Wukong will not say it because why would he, but he is most probably glad that his friends are back. I mean Season 4 ended with him saying that's life. Just him and his buddies having a good time on the beach.

Macaque saying "all his old companions" are back, and leaving himself out of that statement is also a quiet jab. "His old friends, your journey companions are back." What... are you not his friend too, Macaque? Are you not also back?

That pouty face to me looks hurt, and that's why Macaque backed down. I don't think he knows why Wukong looks hurt, but he is so he backs off to get the conversation back to intended tracks. MK's identity.

Macaque from his pov was trying to warn Wukong that he is being too careless, but it came accross as criticising, something that Wukong never took well, but when Nezha does it in Season 4 he only gets a crayon thrown at him, when Mac does it, it actually stings so of course he bites back. Not that he doesn't think about what Mac said to him, but well... these monkeys are horrible in communication.

I grade them both -F. Try again next year.

S5E2

Wukong picks a fight with Macaque again, which wouldn't be strange given the situation, things are tense.

But it's not like it's unreasonable for Macaque to be upset about being jailed. What is he supposed to do? Cheer?

What makes this scene kind of elevated from being a casual "things are shitty, let's bicker" scene is that... MK takes note of it nonverbally.

"You think it's my idea of a good time? Trapped in here with you?" *bites his lip

which is... whoaww tsundere much? Not like you are not also trapped there with MK... did you... forget he is there? Weird case of Macaque prioritization no. 1.

And it's not like it was just a gag and we forget it, because a few seconds later MK takes note of this verbally too.

"Nezha help, i don't wanna be a divorce lawyer." /j

The season is full of Wukong's micro facial expressions.

Half a minute ago he was pissed at Macaque and now he chuckles about how Macaque just outed MK's lawyer bit like it was nothing.

And he wasn't really laughing about MK specifically, because as MK continues his bit, his expression turns to annoyed.

Nothing, just appreciate him laughing along the get away stunt while you still can

Wukong's line here is very deliberate

"I don't trust anyone who isn't standing here with us right now." He knows what he said, and knows who heard it. An olive branch alright, but he still is shocked when his trust is proven to be placed right:

And one example of rightly placed Macaque-prioritisation (the only example, really)

Not 3 minutes ago he was laughing along, having fun and we already have the stress lines back.

People have pointed it out already, but you guys are actually correct to notice:

Wukong, you were not hit on your chest, your head is what's supposed to be hurting. And look at those increasing amount of stress lines, whaow. When MK asks if Mac got away, Wukong knows no.

And let me remind you, in Season 4 Wukong sarcastically says: "Oh right, because you always RUSH to my rescue." Well there you go honey, Macaque rushed to your rescue.

S5E7 Into the Pagoda

The thing with the 100 eyed demon is that as we saw with MK, he is looking for THE most traumatising memory with his victims.

Wukong's canonical most traumatising memory *IS* his fight with Macaque, when there could have been hundreds other memories. One of the freshest ones seeing Azure disintegrate in front of him (and yes we did see him be upset about it), but i guess that's not enough to make him cry. But if you want another example of hurtful memory (strictly taking from the show because that's what we know for sure happened) is when Mei chewed him out for being a bad friend to MK. Or... well i guess Wukong is the older brother of MK now.

Look at those stress lines

Before this scene, let me remind you, the last we saw Wukong was having fun on Tang's expense.

Macaque once again sees how Wukong is upset but has no idea that he is the reason behind it and ends up being rather inconsiderate of Wukong's mood.

(This exchange is tonally deaf from Macaque's side.

It's akin to like when you just lost your pet and when you get home your mom goes off on you for not having washed the dishes.)

Wukong really doesn't care in this second that they got captured, nor that MK went off alone in the pagoda. This is Wukong's second case of "weird Macaque-priority". Something that he really shouldn't allow himself in the apocalypse.

The third time he prioritises Macaque is even weirder. MK just left to KILL HIMSELF. You really don't have time to check on Macaque, Wukong.

But he does.

Even Macaque calls him out on that:

"Stop the kid, you idiot!" and Macaque is right. TF you doing wasting time Wukong?

At the end Wukong is being perfectly open about Mac being important to him.

Thing is, it's also well timed that he starts to care about Macaque again, because alarmingly lot of times this Season Macaque was isolated from everyone. Not in a physical sense, although that too happened, but in imagery as well:

Everyone is grouped: Mei with Wukong, Tang Pigsy Sandy, Nezha and his father. Note their position too.

And yes, the hand holding block happened on purpose too, btw:

Macaque's reward in season 4 for helping the good guys was that he is no longer alone, unlike how he was from season 1 to 3. But season 5 suggests that he *IS* still alone, and while Wukong seeks him out, they are not there yet. Wukong is no longer alone, but Macaque still is.

[flawedamythyst]

Amazing news!! I finally finished the modern no powers au, slow burn, marriage of convenience, Old Guard Nicky/Joe fic that I started in 2020!!!

You may remember hearing about it in one of my post popular Tumblr posts this year, complaining that I had completed the entire Arabic Duolingo course before I finished the fic.

It's 125k words in 31 chapters and I am very excited to finally post it and move on with my life.

However, I would absolutely love to get a sensitivity reader (or readers) for it first. Joe is Muslim and Tunisian and there is a lot of stuff with his family, as well as his feelings about his religion. In addition to Nicky being Italian, most of it is set in Milan, and he's leaving behind the priesthood and so having some Catholicism issues.

I am English, an atheist, and have been to Milan for less than a week 20 years ago. I did my best with Google but I am bound to have missed things, or not known to look them up. Please, if you are Tunisian, Muslim, Italian or Catholic, it would be so incredibly useful if you have time to read it over.

It's PG, no smut or violence, and mostly pining, banter and found family feels. The plot is basically 'hey I just met you, and this is crazy, but why don't we get married so you get Italian citizenship and I get someone to fund me through a nursing degree?'

Warning tags are Homophobia as a main plotpoint, Islamophobia and Racism as minor plot details, family rejection, and the traditional Booker tags of depression, grief, alcoholism and mention of suicidal ideation, although he's only a secondary character so they're not a focus.

I'm also up for a normal Beta if anyone is up for that, atm I am the only person who has had eyes on it.

And so you can see the kind of thing you'd be getting into, given the length of it, this is the first scene:

The first thing to catch Joe’s attention was the man’s <i>shoulders</i>.

Perfectly broad and tanned even for a white guy, glowing under the warm Maltese sun as they rose up from the ocean, water spilling down them. Joe was so taken with them that it was a moment before he realised that more beauty was being revealed as the guy straightened up and started to walk out of the sea. A set of biceps that also took Joe a moment to fully take in, a chest just as broad as the shoulders, narrowing to a trim waist and a set of hips that he could all too easily imagine curling his hands around. The weight of the water had dragged the guy’s bright red swimming shorts low enough to reveal the cut of his hipbones, glistening with water.

Joe was so taken with them that it took him a moment to realise that the guy had left the water behind and was now coming up the beach, which meant Joe could see just how short his shorts were. His thighs were long and strong, and just as tanned as his shoulders. Holy shit, this had to be some kind of vision of paradise, no man could be this hot in real life, surely?

The man stopped at a beach umbrella a few metres from the sun lounger Joe was sprawled on, and then bent over to grab his towel.

Joe made an actual noise at that, an involuntary guttural exclamation in his throat as he tipped his sunglasses down to make sure he got the best view.

“Jesus, Joe,” said Andy from beside him. “Have some dignity.”

“I’m going to marry that man,” said Joe in a dazed voice, not taking his eyes away for a second. 

The man stood back up, rubbing himself down with his towel, and Joe took the time to actually look at his face. Large eyes and prominent cheekbones and, okay, a lot of nose, but Joe could easily imagine waking up to that face on the pillow beside him. His hair was dark with water, slicked back from his face, and Joe wondered what colour it would dry to, if the strands around his face would fall over his forehead where Joe could push them away for him, fingers gliding over his head as he leaned in to kiss him.

“Wow,” said Nile, half-sitting up to take a look. “I know you said you were going to cut loose and get flirty, but I didn’t realise you’d just straight up turn into a total horndog.” She tipped her head to one side as she took in the vision of perfection. “I guess he’s kinda cute. Nice shoulders.”

“I would dedicate whole years of my life to worshipping those shoulders,” said Joe, barely even letting himself blink as the guy ran the towel roughly over his hair, leaving it damply stuck up.

“Okay, dial it back,” said Andy. “Or at least pretend to. This isn’t Tunisia, but staring at strangers on the beach like you’re picturing them in your favourite porn film is kinda skeevy.”

Joe made himself blink and tipped his sunglasses back on, settling back against the lounger. The guy was packing his stuff up anyway, pulling on a shirt that he didn’t bother buttoning and shoving his feet in a pair of flip flops. Joe was about to watch him walk away, and probably never see him again, but at least he’d be able to live the rest of his life knowing that such perfection existed in the world. Truly, Allah was great.

“Look how tiny those shorts are,” he said. “He has to be gay, right?”

Quỳnh, who had been half-asleep but never missed a chance to judge someone’s outfit, lifted herself on her elbows and inspected him for a moment. “Either gay or Italian,” she announced.

The guy threw his towel over his shoulder and strode off up the beach. Joe took his last look at that perfect arse, sitting up to watch it leave, then collapsed back down onto his sunlounger.

“I have been ruined for all other men,” he announced.

[pinkyyoshi]

𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮♡︎ (PROLOGUE)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

18+! ANGST

Syn: Reader grew up as a hopeless romantic, always seeing the brighter side of things and always getting her heart broken. She finds herself falling in love with a man who happens to already be taken and ends up in a fucked up situation.

CW: Self-harm, manipulation, arguing, ANGST ANGST ANGST, profanity, cheating, mommy-issues, drug-use, SA(NOT BY GHOST!)

A/N: hey guys! This is my very first fan fiction and also very first official post on here so I want to apologize for any repetetiveness, grammar, or wordiness in the story, I’ll improve the more I right and I hope I’m being descriptive enough for you guys lol. (Criticism is appreciated!😛)

—————————

You were always such a hopeful girl with big dreams. Head in the clouds, not worried about a thing. You remember always laying down in bed with your mother who would always read you to sleep at night. Going to the library on the weekends and picking out books (always from the romance section). Mom would just smile and chuckle to herself. You never knew that these memories could ever be buried and spat on. Is it your fault for being so naive?

“Mommy?” You called out, peeking around your corner. There sat your mom on the table with a wine glass in her hand. She smiles at you, holding her arm out, calling you towards her.

“What is it sweety?” she says through rosy cheeks.

“When is daddy gonna come back?”

Splash Splash

The sounds of the waves would do. The days couldn’t get any shorter. Work couldn’t get any more tiring. You couldn’t be more alone.

Running sand through the 3 week old nails of your right hand, can of beer in your left. You thought you couldn’t get any more pathetic but here you were sat on the beach not far from the city.

Should I even be here right now?

You should’ve been home some time ago but he called, would he even show up? Sometimes you think mom might have been right…she didn’t need to yell though.

Just as you were about to get up, spinning on your heel, there he was. The reveal was kind of surprising, you think as you cough from all the smoke blown into your face. You can see the smile in his eyes. What the hell?

“S’rry abou’ that. Need a ride?”

You can only chuckle from the fact that he is literally 50 minutes late. You wanted to be mad but you were honestly more embarrassed for letting yourself even wait that long. But nonetheless, you nod your head and the two of you head over to your place and he just might’ve made up for making you wait that night. You counted. He stayed over til the morning this time, he even stayed for coffee! That’s definitely a first. Maybe He truly does care.

Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

“You’re so beautiful” He would say, running his rough fingers over your head, caressing you softly. It was like a scene out of a book. Just like the one you read last month about the– well who cares. Simon was leaving soon.

As he was walking out the door, he caressed your cheek, before placing a delicate kiss if you were a set of china.

“I love you so much, my pretty pretty girl. I promise if you just wait for me-” You can’t help but tune him out after. Those are the only words you wanted to hear. You don’t wanna hear about how he has to get back home to his girl or that work was waiting for him.

Your strong little heart could only bear the small things he does for you, anything after that would be too much, knowing what you and also knowing that you couldn’t have him.

The door shuts and reality hits harder than a boulder when you sink back into your messy room. Someday.

(CRITICISM APPRECIATED!!!)

THANK YOU 4 READING

[junipers-archive]

Flower Girls

Word Count: 650

Includes: flufffff, Spencer and you renew your vows, and your daughters Daisy and Violet are the flower girls!! (@radiant-reid i wrote it!)

"Mama do I get to hold the flowers?!" It was Daisy your six year old daughter chasing around your equally excited younger daughter Violet who'd just turned four.

"Yes honey and Violet's going to help you!"

It was almost time to get them changed into their dresses, and you were happy to find they were just as excited to relive the wonderful time that was wedding day as you were.

You and Spencer had decided to renew your vows for your ten year anniversary, especially since Daisy had made it clear how unfair she thought it was she wasn't alive to see the first one.

As you check your phone you find its already 10am and you had spent too long watching the girls run around the yard.

"Daisy, Violet! Come on, we gotta go get you two dressed!"

They both chase after you like you had promised ice cream, squealing.

"I get the pink one right mommy?" Violet's still developing her idiolect and pronounciation and you smile at how her voice swoops and cuts oddly as you enter your bedroom.

"Wait a minute I thought I got the pink one mama! what am I supposed to wear now?"

Daisy has discovered attitude which you blame completely on Spencer as he was the one to cause a scene when you took the last cookie from the tin a few weeks ago.

"Baby, you both got matching pink dresses remember?" You try to console her as she puckers her lips and scrunches her cute little eyebrows, looking remarkably like her father.

It isn't until you take out the dress in front of them that she begins to giggle.

In an hour you've dressed them both and have done their hair into little buns at the top of their heads per their request.

You're done as well, all that was left to do was meet at the beach, you and Spencer had considered a more formal option but seeing as it would've cost a fortune and time you don't have to plan it all you'd gone with the simpler choice.

You'd be meeting at the beach he proposed to you on and renewing your vows over a flower arch with only your closest friends and family, then you'd all eat dinner (you'd reserved a part of the resturaunt) at the place you and Spencer had gone to after he proposed.

It was simple, and it was perfect.

You were getting in the car with your girls when Daisy gasped.

"Mama" just like her father that one, "Where are the flowers!?"

You tried hard not to laugh at her expression as you backed out of the drive way, but it really was hard not to.

"Don't worry petal we're going to give you and Violet the flowers when we get there."

And you did, or at least Spencer did.

Once you got to the beach you all saw him standing and greeting the guests. Once Daisy and Violet did too they ran to him hugging his legs before he could catch them and toppling him over successfully.

And when they finally walk down that isle as the sun begins to paint the sky a beautiful gradient of pinks, oranges and blues he thinks about how lucky he is to have not only you the love of his life but also the two beautiful smart and talented daughters you both created.

Daisy and Violet hold two wicker baskets, throwing Daisy and Violet petals which you'd agreed had to be done.

You keep your eyes on them as they grin from their seats next to their auntie Penelope.

And when you both recite the loving vows you said exactly 10 years ago you also find that both you and Spence edit it slightly to include the wonderful human beings you brought into the world.

To which they of course squeal and cheer at until the ceremony is over.

[epickiya722]

You know what, season 2 broke a lot of our hearts, didn't it? Well, here's some moments I thought were funny, heartwarming and just off the wall to lighten things up!

Starting with the Hidden Inventory/Premature Death Arc and if y'all want, I'll do a part 2 for the Shibuya Incident!

NOTE: I may have talked about some of these moments before in other posts.

Utahime, just all of Utahime in the first episode. She's awesome, I adore her. "SHOOOOKOOOO!!"

Chibi Satoru and Suguru. Especially the part of Suguru walking up the stairs as the others were talking. "Urusei."

"SENSEI, I SAY WE STOP THIS HUNT FOR THE CULPRIT!"

"SO IT WAS YOU!"

"Blegh!"

Shoko dipping out.

Suguru was really about to jump Satoru with a curse!!!

The fact that Suguru even went from wearing regular-waist pants to high-waist ones from manga to anime is glorious. Whoever decided that knew Suguru was meant to be a fashion icon.

Digimon

That WALK!!! Y'all, those are Special Grade sorcerers!

Suguru scowling Satoru on his behavior, also... "Satorrruuu~" Did he have to purr? That was a purr!

I love Satoru Gojo, I do. But with those glasses, he really do be looking like one of the Three Blind Mice from Shrek.

I don't know how but Toji somehow made saying he took his wife's last name scary. Like, he was very intimidating that it bypass me the first time of how cute it is that he loved Mamaguro a lot.

They actually added Suguru fixing himself a cup of tea in the anime!! This teenager really had that man captured by some Kissing Curse, told him he couldn't be a rice farmer and had himself some tea. Iconic.

Ooh, Satoru didn't have to do Bayer like that. But I applaud him for taking such a selfie!

Shoko trying to explain how RCT works actually irritated Satoru... which is rare!

Riko actually was the first to defeat Satoru. Did him dirty!! Suguru actually laughs at Satoru getting slapped while in the anime he looks shocked. Either way, his reaction is funny as hell.

"You look like a liar! And what's up with those bangs?" Then Riko got jumped for that!

Suguru's bangs ain't that bad, come on!

Knowing how Suguru turns out, it's something he's the one to tell Kuroi that she's Riko's family. Years later, he had his own "family". It's actually heartwarming he tells her that.

That old man didn't even get touched yet and he was already seeing his dead dog from 50 years ago!! Man's life flashed right before his eyes and he even says that! The whooping Suguru put on him was so bad that he was having visions!!

The one time Satoru is shown to have some sort of charm is with a bunch of school girls. The teacher should be locked up though.

Baghead man really had on the All Might cosplay.

Toji didn't have to say a word to that man and he still scared him shitless. Alright, Toji, I see you being all scary!

Satoru really be carrying kids like they're bags of groceries. Did it with Yuji, he did it with Riko.

"I failed!"

Kuroi being rescued! Satoru really stomped on those guys!

The plane scene. Satoru checking each passenger all with a glare. Meanwhile, Suguru was just chilling with a book, sitting there all pretty.

The whole beach scene!! "IT'S A SEA CUCUMBER!!"

Teen Kento having that hairstyle and his dynamic with Yu is just too adorable. He looks like he has Wii music playing in his head all day. Such a good kid!!

I cannot believe that DIO's VA is also Toji's. It's funnier when Toji has had beef with Satoru as a kid and DIO has had generational beef with the Joestars.

I just know that Worm Curse was having the time of its life on Toji's back while he was jumping around and being tossed about. Also, Toji smiling the whole time while fighting.

Suguru actually has mad hops! Did y'all not see that long ass jump?!

Squid gun. Speaking of, where in the hell did all those squids come from?! I need a story on that one!

Toji talking about how he fights for a while before Suguru tells him to shut up and die.

"Am I pretty?" "Sorry, you're not my type." Okay, well, damn.

The Worm Curse pretty much "NOPE" at Suguru.

That kick was fucking personal, I just know it! Also, the fact that Toji actually thought about the curses inhabiting Suguru's body is something. Especially, given later. I actually question that when Suguru dies in JJK 0, did Satoru have to deal with any curses?

Toji remembering Megumi.

Also, if you pay attention to the Worm, that thing sometimes matches Toji's expressions. It's like Reki and his headband (SK8 the Infinity).

Satoru standing all menacingly outside for Toji.

"Is he high?" Well, given that a few moments later he'll be floating in the air.

The fact that people have described Toji's death as "turned into the Apple logo" to "the Rengoku treatment". Y'all are out of pocket! And he looked so disappointed, too.

"Mommy... hug me..." That scene is just...

"I like girls with healthy appetites!" Yu, never change!!

Yuki's reaction to what Suguru tells her about what he has heard about her. "She's pouting."

"I heard you the first time. That's why I said 'huh'!" Bro was just that mad.

Shoko. Just Shoko when she and Suguru meet in Shinjuku.

Heartbreaking as the scene is, you had one lanky ass teenager looking deranged on one end and the other with the "I'm going to the store real quick" fit on having this fight in front of KFC. Becomes even funnier when you remember the slogan "finger lickin' good". What does this have to do with anything? Think about Yuji.

One, where did Suguru get the robes from? Two, given he was born the following year in February after Satoru, if I did my calculations right... Suguru really started a cult at 17. No wonder there were objections. After he killed that guy, I'm sure everyone was like "oh, he's unhinged".

Okay, but the head rubs he gave the twins were so cute!! Look, they may been raised as killers, but it's sweet that they were Suguru's family. He adored those girls and they adored him!

The first meeting between Megumi and Satoru!!

Satoru waking up and seeing his students was just so heartwarming!!!

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

Season 2 OFMD: Replace Prince Ricky with Benjamin Hornigold

Hear me out.

S2Ep1: Introduce Hornigold in disguise to Stede. Make 'Ben' an old trusty sea dog who still knows a bit too much about Stede Bonnet. Have Ben compliment Stede in the same way Ricky did. -HAVE STEDE TRUST HIM- Ben being an old pirate who misses the life, the adventure, the brutality. Make Stede sympathise with him.

Make him wear a shitty disguise at Jackies until he's caught near the end of the episode (and gets away), because DUH. That's Benjamin fucking Hornigold, Jackie fucking hates him(we see her shoot at him as he runs). Maybe have Jackie tell Stede he's dangerous, only for Stede to reply 'that's just an old man' and brush off her concern.

NEXT WE SEE HIM:

S2Ep3: ED'S DREAM SEQUENCE

It's finally revealed to the audience through Ed's dreams that the old man they left behind is the infamous turncoat Hornigold. Change the line about abandoning Ed's body at a beach, to at a port town, and the 'Ed was mutinied' lie can be told like how it was in ep 3. But now we as the audience can catch hints that Ben isn't acting right. Ed still sees him as the brutal pirate and not the old man Stede met a few episodes ago.

THEN(replacing Ricky's speech on that British ship):

Hornigold discusses how brutal pirate life is to the British sailors under his command. Focus on how best to hunt them down. We can even have another sailor remind Hornigold that he's a pirate hunter due to Ben's signing of the act of grace.

Him and Zheng on Zheng's ship: Keep the scene the same. Auntie points out that Ben betrayed his pirate crew to go serve the English. Have both captains talk about how pointless this all is, but make it clear that he's willing to negociate. Have Ben roll his eyes at the British's gifts(clocks), but say it's all a formality and they can 'sell them off if she wants'. Knowing that she won't have the time to in the next 24 hours and that this will be her ships downfall.

The Zheng and Stede Fight: I hate that she gives this whole speech about defeating idiot men, only to get defeated by Ricky- an actual idiot. From this scene on she's less 'Pirate Queen/Captain' and more 'badass side chick that fits in with the crew'. BUT in this write, she lost to a pirate legend. Who sold his crew out for his own freedom. She lost because she was outmaneuvered, and she SHOULD have known better. (seriously though, why did Zheng trust Ricky, he was a british fucking officer, GOD I hate that shit)

NOW THE FUCKING PAY OFF:

Hornigold captures the crew post ep 7. We can keep Stede and Zheng getting away. BUT HORNIGOLD AND IZZY INTERACTING? Izzy siting up and defending his family from a person from his past????

Look, we know Ed has been a pirate for at least 20 years (he's known Fang for 20 years), so there's a very good chance Ed and Izzy were together on his ship.

Let Izzy give the speech about crew being family, about how you sacrifice everything for your crew. Spitting in the face of the piracy Izzy himself once lived his life by. Of this dog eats dog world.

Also: Izzy would have absolutely searched Benjamin fucking Hornigold for weapons. Now. We can keep Ben killing Izzy, maybe he runs up and grabs a sailor's gun, I don't like it. (Izzy didn't need to die for the story to work) But at least NOW Izzy died to a man whose haunted his every life's decision. A person he said he would never be, and slowly did become through years of trying to survive. It's not a good ending, but now it has a bit more meaning than Ricky getting a lucky shot he didn't earn.

Make Ed furious over Izzy's body, but show him visibly holding back from getting revenge. That throwing himself back in won't fix Izzy. So he fixes himself. This also pays off the consequences of signing the Act of Grace. Showing that this might just be the end of piracy as Ed knows it if his former bastard Captain was willing to turn coat.

This also means a BIT more for Stede, as his blind trust in Ben in episode 1 meant a dangerous pirate got away. Maybe in episode 1 Stede tells Ben about Ed. About how worried he is his 'friend' has gone off the deep end. Ben of course, actively hunting down Blackbeard and doing anything to get to his old prodigy. Have Stede regret that his 'plan to sell off Hornigold to the English' got Izzy killed. Have Stede learn to hold his cards closer for next season, to be slower to trust people. This would be a better arc than 'stede learns to be an excellent captain for his family and gives it all up in the end as soon as he can get his dick wet'.

It's still REALLY shallow, and I don't like it. This season should have had a better villain than trying to introduce the possibility of Zheng hunting them down, Ned Low, AND the British. But now, at least it fits better thematically for Izzy and Ed's arcs as growing past the traditional pirate life and Stede for learning to control his ego, showing him that he STILL has a lot to learn.

[unholyverse]

waterparks // rock sound 25 icon issue

(full text under cut)

ROCK SOUND 25 ICON

WATERPARKS

WATERPARKS HAVE NEVER BEEN A BAND THAT ARE HAPPY TO SIT AROUND AND WAIT FOR SOMETHING TO HAPPEN, RELEASING FIVE STUDIO ALBUMS IN THE LAST SEVEN YEARS WHILE CONTINUING TO GROW THEIR INCREASINGLY AMBITIOUS LIVE SHOWS. AS THEY ACCEPT THEIR ROCK SOUND 25 ICON AWARD, FRONTMAN AWSTEN KNIGHT TALKS US THROUGH THE BEGINNINGS OF THE BAND IN HOUSTON, TEXAS AND WHAT THE FUTURE HOLDS FOR THE TRIO.

WORDS: JAMES WILSON-TAYLOR PHOTOS: JAWN ROCHA

"NO MATTER WHAT, ALL THOSE ALL THOSE BANDS LIKE GOOD CHARLOTTE, GREEN DAY AND BLINK, THEY'RE STILL GOING TO BE IN THE BONES AND FOUNDATION OF WHAT WE'RE DOING."

Let's start at the beginning - what are your earliest musical memories?

Alright, so you can start the article with this - as I crawled out of my mother, my dad made sure the first song I ever heard was 'Wouldn't It Be Nice? by The Beach Boys. The other day somebody asked me what would be the last song I wanted to hear if I knew I was gonna die. I mean, I have death songs, don't get me wrong. I've got songs that I would choose to die to, some Death Cab and Motion City Soundtrack. But I think because I love bookends and I love like tying things together. I would have to listen to 'Wouldn't It Be Nice?'.

He took you to a lot of The Beach Boys shows when you were growing up too right?

I do remember those. It would always be on the Fourth of July. How were they always in Houston? He'd also be listening to stuff like Van Halen. My mom really liked Prince. My dad didn't like my mom's music; she liked Cat Stevens and Bob Dylan. But I remember watching TV getting dressed in the mornings, VH1 and MTV, and being so afraid of Mudvayne. They would film it at that frame rate that's the same as 28 Days Later and they had the devil makeup on. So I remember music scaring the shit out of me.

Do you remember the bands and music that you first connected with?

I heard 'Fat Lip' by Sum 41 on the radio in fourth grade. We were in my dad's Honda Civic and I was like 'What is this?' Then I saw it on TV later. Then that got me into Green Day, Good Charlotte, Blink-182. It helped that MTV actually played those things so I could find them. So that was the first stuff that I really gravitated towards in fourth, fifth, sixth grade. Then in sixth and seventh grade, that's when I started getting more into what nerds would be mad at me calling emo like My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, From First To Last. A few years ago at my parents' house, I found these mix CDs and they had Linkin Park, Chronic Future, that song 'United States Of Whatever', Bowling For Soup. That's when I was buying stuff. Basically once I heard 'Fat Lip', I was just like, 'well, now I'm going to hear all of the songs like this'.

You were lucky to grow up at that time where this kind of music was more easy to discover because it was everywhere in pop culture. That is partly why those bands are still so influential.

I feel like no matter what, all those bands like Good Charlotte, Green Day and Blink, they're still going to be in the bones and foundation of what we're doing. I can still explore as much as I want with production and go do weird shit and try and push things forward as much as possible, because that should be your job as a musician, at least partially. But at the end of the day, the house was still built on that.

As you started playing in bands and playing shows yourself, what did you make of the local scene in Houston?

I started playing shows when I was 13. I've done my 10,000 hours. I remember when I was in seventh and eighth grade; there were some punk bands in the Houston scene that I remember seeing all the fucking time. I still have all these flyers still. But the vast majority, I'd say 85% of the bands, were mainly hardcore. That's mainly what the Houston scene was. So I remember my friends and I would just spend every day at local venues. When you're young, you absorb things better and you learn more. I think that's why when kids start piano when they're three, they can be prodigies, you know what I mean? But I feel like I got that with music that ultimately wouldn't help me very much in the future. I could still list 100 bands from Houston that those people have probably forgotten that they were in by this point. But we would just hang out and if a local band somehow didn't pull through, they would let us go take their spot. I was probably in eight different bands over the course of like three or four years. Whoever I was with, we would just go play the shows. We'd make some songs up, we played covers sometimes. We covered The Used and Motion City Soundtrack, Scary Kids Scaring Kids.

Your first couple of Waterparks' EPs were self- made and self-released, keeping in that DIY spirit. Yet it still felt like you were ambitious and aiming high even back then.

Can I tell you the difference between then and now? See, I don't advertise this information but I don't even listen to that much music now. I'm trying to be better about that and I've got certain friends that will give me stuff to immerse myself. But I've gotten maybe a little bit frustrated. There's so many times where I keep finding cool people on Tik Tok when I finally do go looking for new music, and I'll talk to them for a second and maybe see if they wanna open up for us on tour but they can't because so many fucking people are just quiet signed to major labels. It irritates the shit out of me and the reason they're hiding it is because everybody is so obsessed with authenticity, which they have the right to be, you want your shit to be organic, homegrown, free range, cruelty free, all that shit. But everything that I look at is just a fucking marketing trick or ploy. What is the equivalent of me just being in my fucking room at my parents' house?

"I FEEL MORE LOOSE AND I FEEL LIKE EVERY TOUR I GET BETTER AS A SINGER."

In terms of your attitude back then, you were just treating those self-releases as if you were already on a major label. It didn't feel less legit to you.

Day and night, you're working on those things. It was very real. We're about to get to the point of this conversation where we start trying to quantify success and what it means and it's intangible, we can't do it. But what I do know is you can easily get tricked and be like, 'Oh, my Tik Toks are getting millions of hits' and then draw 20 people to your show. I've seen it happen. So I just care how many people ride with you and will leave their home to come see you play. I don't care how many fucking playlists you bought, I don't care how many ads you run on your Spotify, I don't care if YouTube picked you up on their fucking algorithm - good for you because they've never done that for us - but I want to know how many people fuck with you.

With your own live show, when did you feel like it clicked for Geoff, Otto and yourself? When did you first feel like you understood what a Waterparks show should be?

Maybe 'Fandom'. I didn't start taking vocal lessons till 2021. I feel like that's the first time where I look back and it's not just us playing a song and then stopping and then playing the song and then stopping. It's where we actually built a show. That's when we had 'Double Dare 2019' and 'Entertainment 2019' where we were playing for eight minutes straight and made me feel like fucking Green Day. Like some like 'Jesus of Suburbia', 'Bullet In A Bible' type shit. That's not me saying I thought we sucked during 'Entertainment'. That's not what it is at all. We did cool shit. We did Reading & Leeds main stage on 'Entertainment'. But I just feel like things clicked more on 'Fandom'. I feel so much more comfortable onstage every single tour. I feel more loose and I feel like every tour I get better as a singer. I better not get fucking worse. As long as you're continuing to practice and improve. I need to go fucking play tennis and boxing and all this other shit to be at my best when we're touring, you know what I mean? As long as I'm not fully just lounging and then going straight to the stage, I should, in theory, be a better performer.

You mentioned Reading & Leeds, which was one of many milestone moments you've had in the UK. How do you reflect on your relationship with the fans over here?

I give the UK a lot of shit for their food and everything but truthfully, those are my favourite shows in the world. They've always given us the most love and I just feel like the UK appreciates bands more. You know what I mean? I wonder if it's because the BBC still plays guitars? Or maybe they just care about rock culture more.

So to jump back a little, when you were making 'Double Dare', what aims did you have? What was on your to-do list around that time?

I could tell you the list. A big bucket list. I don't erase things when I complete them, I just add on. (Looking through his computer) Let's see…I can tell you one of the things it says here is 'A Rock Sound cover'. I tried to fill it out as much as I could with the knowledge that I had because sometimes you don't know what goals you can ask for. You know what I mean? I put 'Have a Top 10 album' and then you get to mark that off. 'Headline Reading and Leeds', not marked off. 'Have a music video on TV. Get shirts in Hot Topic. Play a show with Kesha. Get an apartment. Get a music video with 100K views. Record an album.' I got to mark that one off. There's a ton. I think when you're making that, you also have to look big. You have to project and manifest big shit. When I was in my parents' house thinking about 'Crave' with $0 to my name, I was thinking about playing that in arenas. We hadn't played a show to more than 500 people at that point. So yeah, I think it's always just pretending you're Coldplay. That kind of doesn't change. I mean, I guess until you become Coldplay, and then you're like 'how do we be as big as God?'

“AT A CERTAIN POINT, THERE ARE THINGS THAT YOU DEAL WITH THAT THERAPISTS DON'T UNDERSTAND. SOMETIMES IT'S HARD TO ACCEPT THOSE THINGS."

You've been very fortunate to have some mentors help guide you towards those goals with Joel and Benji Madden and Mikey Way all there to give advice from early on.

So as we said earlier, we didn't have anyone in our corner when we were doing 'Airplane Conversations', 'Black Light' and writing 'Cluster'. Nobody was around; it was just us at home. Joel and Benji both reached out quickly after the other. They were the first people to ever give us the good shit. 'Hey, we see what you're doing. It's cool'. They were the first established people to ever reach out and give us props. I was babysitting and our fucking first label we had just signed with was like, 'Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?' I'm like, 'Oh, just probably babysitting, teaching guitar lessons'. And they're like, 'Well, do you want to come to Los Angeles and have lunch with Benji and Joel?' Then I'm hitting up Geoff and Otto and we come out and we talked about our goals. Fast-forward, they're like 'You want to do some co-writes?' I wanted to be a team player about it because back then especially, I was like 'nobody touches our shit, we don't get help from anybody, we are DIY'. I was so fucking close-minded punk about it. But when they heard all the demos, they went 'Oh, wait, you already have all these. Do you want to use these?' So that's 'Cluster'. That's when Mikey came through and was listening to us. He was always just so nice. He's like 'I'd love to play on it'. So I'm sitting there showing him the bass parts, and he's getting it fucking immediately. It was so weird. I felt like I could be arrested any second and just immediately sound like a crazy person. 'No, no, no, I was talking to My Chemical Romance and Good Charlotte's my friend'. At a certain point, there are things that you deal with that therapists don't understand. Sometimes it's hard to accept those things. Let's say I'm on a tour, which is already a scary thing. You're in a van, you're not fucking sleeping. You have no fucking money. Part of your team is trying to go back on the already shitty contract you have and you're getting fucking cheated on and you're doing just a bunch of crazy shit. You can't call a therapist for that shit. So I would talk to them, especially Joel. I would save those conversations, because I would have to go back to them so much. His time is valuable. It's almost like a cheat sheet in a way. It doesn't perfectly tie up all those bad things but those are probably the best answers I'm gonna get.

Let's talk about playing Warped Tour. You did it a few times in those early years and it must have been a pretty good learning process on how to grow your fanbase.

All 2016 we toured on 'Cluster'. 'Stupid For You' didn't come out until November that year. The reason I think I'm so good at marketing is because I had to do fucking all of it for four years straight. I was talking to somebody about this the other day where they were like, 'Oh man, if you guys ever opened for Taking Back Sunday, you'd fucking kill it. You'd get so many fans'. No, we wouldn't. And I can say this confidently, because I've promoted outside of three of their shows and I can tell you, those people did not like us. There's always the exception that proves the rule, but for the most part, I can tell you where we will and will not thrive because I've promoted to every fucking fan base. So Warped wasn't really different. Based on what shirts they were wearing at barricade or certain age ranges; I have a good meter of who will fuck with it and who will not. A Sleeping With Sirens fan would fucking love us, a Bayside fan would fucking hate us. You get what I mean? Paramore fans would fucking love us. An Alkaline Trio fan would fucking hate us. But the thing is, at Warped, you're kind of forced to exercise that muscle because all of those people are walking by. I wasn't shy on stage or anything but I think that could be one of the reasons I'm really good at crowd work. There's been a lot of bands we've toured with who say 'I don't know how you just talk to them for fucking five minutes between songs about different shit every night'. I don't know how you don't.

"IF IT'S NOT GOING UP AND GETTING BIGGER AND BETTER, I DON'T REALLY WANT TO DO IT."

Once you got to 'Fandom' and 'Greatest Hits', you were far more comfortable with experimenting musically and on the production side too. Did you feel a change in your confidence levels when you reached that era?

Confidence wise, yeah, but I think I'm too close to really see how big of a difference there is on certain things. I always wanted to be able to do 'Fandom' and even on the first EP with songs like 'Fantastic' or 'Silver', we are adding a weird synthy thing or vocal cuts. I was trying to explain that to this kid in the garage in the middle of fucking redneck nowhere woods, Texas. He just cut the voice and I'm like 'pitch it up and drag this one there'. Or bringing a weird, syncopated piano thing into the outro. I tried to make sure of that early on because I've always been such a fan of so many things. I just wanted that to come across even on album one. 'Crave' was a fully electronic thing, 'Territory' I wanted that to be an indie kind of vibe and then 'Mad All The Time' I wanted to be more industrial, kind of like Linkin Park with those weird, major melodies. 'Take Her To The Moon', full fucking pop song then throw 'Dizzy' in there with cut up shit and trappy drums. Then album two, we're gonna go fucking hard as hell with it on 'Tantrum'. I always felt like we were doing these things. But then I heard those albums the way I hear demos, where I think I hear kind of what they are in my head, what they could or should be. I remember when I showed the 'Fruit Roll Ups' demo to Travis (M. Riddle). He didn't really like it that much. It had all the same parts, all the same chords, vocals, the synth outro and the solo and all this stuff. But then when he heard the final one, where I went in with Zakk (Cervini, producer), and we beefed it up and added more stuff, he was like 'I love this one now so much'. But it's the same song. So when those first albums aren't seen as eclectic as the albums starting at 'Fandom', it would confuse me because I always felt like things were diverse. It really might just come down to the production.

One thing that certainly did change was how open you were in your lyrics. They were always honest but now they became a lot more specific over time.

Pete Wentz is my favourite lyricist and I love things just sounding as pretty as possible, trying to word things that people feel but in ways that they've never heard it described. You take a feeling like love, something that everybody fucking knows, and then just say it in a way with a combination of words that nobody has used yet. That was the goal for so long, but then I remember something kind of clicking when I was so mad and made 'Tantrum'. There was something that felt so much more cathartic. It actually gave me adrenaline and I wanted to chase that. That felt so good. There were certain songs like 'Reboot' or this demo called 'Play'. I wouldn't let a song go if it didn't give me chills. Certain lines like 'you're gonna be just like your mother', that's gonna make someone in real life so mad. So I think that's where that came from. Then songs like 'Turbulent' happened - 'you had your own Pete Wentz and Patrick combined' - and that's the start of the song. Are you kidding me? Who in the music sphere is going to hear that and not have some kind of reaction? And I just wanted a reaction. I could start 'Sleep Alone' and it doesn't have to elicit the same thing, but something as strong. They shouldn't elicit the same exact feeling, but they should elicit that dynamic level of emotional response.

“IF WE NEVER GET TO DO THIS AGAIN, I WANT TO GIVE THEM THE COOLEST SHIT POSSIBLE WHILE WE GET TO BE IN THIS SPOT."

As you mentioned earlier, it is hard to quantify success. A good example is the way 'I Miss Having Sex But At Least I Don't Wanna Die Anymore' became your most streamed song, largely due to a TikTok trend you had very little to do with.

I didn't even know it was happening. Now, there's so many viral songs that the cycle is quicker. Somebody can have a song that bangs on Tik Tok for two weeks and then it's done. But this was so early on. It wasn't a single; it was a deep cut song on the album. It still doesn't have a music video. Neither does 'Turbulent'. It's just so odd because it also makes you a little mad. But then it's also a little humbling in a way. Things are out of your control, but they'll be okay.

You are still touring your most recent album 'Intellectual Property' so it is probably too early to fully analyze it but, now that we are nearly a year on from its release, how are you reflecting on what you achieved with that record?

I've told you this before but if it's not going up and getting bigger and better, I don't really want to do it. I don't want to spin the tyres in fucking mud. If it's not happening, then I'm not gonna do the trap where things start downgrading and we have to play old albums. It's not what I want. I'm good enough at other things to figure something out but preserve that legacy. But 'Intellectual Property' charted higher than any of our fucking other albums, first Top 10 in the UK. We've sold more tickets to the 'Property' tour than the 'Fandom' tour and the 'See You In The Future' tour combined. I'll say that one more time - we sold more tickets to the 'Property' tour than the entire 'Fandom' tour and the entire 'Greatest Hits' tour if you put them both together and add them up. That's the indicator to me. That's what matters to me. I did say at the top of the cycle in such a simple way that I want one of the red songs above the green songs. That's literally what I told Fueled By Ramen. So that didn't happen because the Tik Tok lords did not mysteriously bless us in our sleep. We still sold more. We got more real people in real seats. More was accomplished and it was bigger and better.

It feels like you have the same aim with each tour too - growing and building on what came before. Yet, again, you have always had those bigger ambitions for the show even when you were in slightly smaller rooms.

Dress for the job you want. With all the rooms we did on the 'Property' tour, they're the same ones that we would do for 'Greatest Hits', right? So it's like, okay, we did it. We conquered those rooms. Now we have to move up. Shit. Because otherwise, you just keep doing victory laps forever in the same rooms. So some of them, there's no fucking chance in hell we're gonna sell these out. But it's cool to try. And the thing is, it's still selling on par with the 'Property' tour. Part of me is like, damn, I wish we could have as many sold out things but there are already more people going to this show than the previous sold out one. So I pick my battles. Yeah, you could go play to 1300 people in New York again or you could try and do the fucking big ass thing. So that's kind of where it's at now. You want to build a fucking real show. On the 'Property' tour, we actually got to build shit for the first time. We built a set and this time it is just a bigger version of that. It's just bigger and with more changes. It's not even a spoiler because that's so fucking vague, but to have the show and set change as the set goes on, it's fucking cool. Sometimes I see people who are doing these same size rooms (so this isn't remotely punching down, we're doing the same rooms) and they'll just have a banner. Give them more. Give them a show. I'm so grateful to actually get to be in these rooms finally that if we never get to do this again, I want to give them the coolest shit possible while we get to be in this spot.

"NO PART OF ME IS INTERESTED IN JUST REPEATING THE CYCLE OVER AND OVER AND OVER."

Speaking of bigger shows, you got to play in arenas for the first time when you supported My Chemical Romance. Given what a huge fan you are of that band, it must have felt quite surreal.

Dude, it was so weird and so cool. Every night, the first song scared the shit out of me and then you kind of get the rhythm of it. It's just so weird. Sometimes between songs, I just had to look and take a mental picture. I saw My Chem when I was younger in an arena and I could see the seats I was in, you know what I mean? I could see people in them. You get to a certain point where stuff doesn't blow your mind as much but that blew my fucking mind every day. I remember the first time we ever got to go in a bus. It was so exciting. Now, when I get in the bus, I'm like, 'Okay, but where's the charger in the bunk? Where's the air? Is it just gonna freeze my feet?' It's not to say I'm ungrateful it just becomes more normal. If you go to the best pizza spot every day, after years of having it, it's just a good pizza spot. But getting to go open for My Chem and everything around it and all the details of it, I just never got used to. We'd go to the catering room and we'd sit down and there's Frank and there's Ray. We were in this hockey arena in the locker room and I had all my outfits, planning them out, and at one point, Gerard came through. I was showing him the fits and everything and he was like, 'Oh, you have great style'. I don't think you can get used to that. It's crazy. Maybe My Chem is used to it because they've been playing arenas for years and years and years, maybe that's the standard now. But God, that blew my fucking mind every day.

As you start to think about wrapping up this era, what are the goals as you move forward?

I just want to go places that we haven't been because that's what makes me feel excited. Like with playing in an arena for the first time, anything that is a huge dynamic change. That's all I'm looking for. I just want to feel excited. The people who like us, I appreciate them because we're so lucky enough to be in a place where we don't have to tour into the fucking ground if we don't want to just to survive. No part of me is interested in touring into the ground this year. I feel like we've been on tour for the last two and a half years straight. 2022 was preparing for this album, 2023 was promoting this album. One thing I enjoyed about 2019 was that we only did a short opening run, early in the year, and then we did the 'Fandom' tour at the end of the year. But that whole spring, summer and fall, we were just making cool shit. That made me feel excited. We made so many music videos and just did a lot of cool shit. We got to focus on the creative. I never would have been throwing around Sunny D in my apartment bathroom taking pictures of it for the 'Fandom' album cover if I had jetlag. No part of me is interested in just repeating the cycle over and over and over. I want to just do things that we haven't done yet and make stuff for everyone. Because if we go play in Copenhagen, Waterparks is for Copenhagen that day. But when I'm home and we're operating at full mental capacity and everything, we can make things for everybody. At the end of the day, I never want to fall into a pattern and repeat myself and do the same shit. I want to expand and see what we can do, what our capabilities are like. Do something that somebody hasn't done yet. I want to rent a movie theatre and do a fucking real premiere. I don't want to give a bunch of shit away but there's a lot of things that are always in the works. As Awsten, the guy steering the ship on fucking Waterparks, whatever's going on I just want it to be new and cool and feel fulfilling. If we had some fucking tyrant label that was like 'We need an album now' I could go 'There's fucking 100 songs on here. Go fucking make your album, pick them. Go have Zakk mix them'. But it's just not what intuitively feels right and I want to follow that intuition. I keep looking back at the 2019 year map as kind of a blueprint. That's not to say I'm gonna stay home all year. But it's just gotta be new. I want that feeling of getting in the bus for the first time.

[meganelixabethh]

I know Silas is a fan fav; but at the beginning of Magyk I HATE this man. During the assassination attempt and subsequent fleeing I think you could reasonably argue that Marcia is having the worst time of anyone in the party (if she is second to anyone it’s Sep, and even then it’s close). This woman has relived the worst day of her life, gotten stinky and slimy (and we all know she’s ND so that would be hell) and then harnessed so much magyk she almost ceased to be a human while everyone acted like she was doing nothing that hard at all, in order to save everyone’s lives for a SECOND time in this sequence of events (and don’t forget in all of this she also managed to save Sally Mullin too).

Then, just as she thought they might be safe for a bit (it’s midnight on this beach and she was awoken very early by alther if you recall from the Scene of Hair Curlers™️, so she’s probably creeping up on 20 hours of being awake) Alther comes and tells her 1) the one terrible thing she thought she’d done enough to stop happening had, in fact, happened. 2) the only person we hear Marcia mention with any kind of positive attitude; and by extension, someone she could trust, is dead. 3) that person was murdered as a direct result of number 1. 4) Not only has this insane sociopath that would very much like her dead not only invaded her place of work, that clearly makes up part of her identity, but also 5) moved into her HOME (siri play my tears ricochet by taylor swift) which is an absolute violation.

The Very Short List of people Marcia trusts and cares about gets another person on it murdered, and Marcia does not have the time to mourn her AT ALL because she knows she needs to focus on how she can undo this mess without causing the death of a ten year old girl. And what does Silas say? ‘The custodians are simply a load of thugs any *decent* ExtraOrdinary Wizard would have seen off years ago’. Be so fucking real right now. Fuck you man. She saved your sorry arse TWICE. She kept you and your family alive for TEN YEARS. SHES THE ONLY REASON YOU DIDN’T WATCH YOUR TEN Y/O KID GET VIOLENTLY MURDERED. SIT TF DOWN.

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Same Trailer, Different Park

(Season 1, Episode 1 - A Slice of Life)

May 14, 2024

Notes - This took a lot longer than I anticipated, but I had a lot going on with work and Mother's Day, so I'm not surprised it took me a bit longer than it normally would have. Anyway, it's here now, it’s 40-something pages long, and I'll be starting on the next one tonight, if everything goes well at work this afternoon!

Waves crashed along the shore, lapping calmly against the sand as emerald eyes scoured for shells along the water’s edge. Salty ocean air mingled with the distant smell of grilled foods as Vivien walked along the beach. Hours had passed since her arrival in St. Pete Beach, but the crowded restaurant everyone seemed to love just wasn’t her scene. Crowded places, in general, weren’t something Vivien cared for - bar the occasional mall trip, that was - but after being shuffled around for what felt like forever, listening to people sing and being shown off like a shiny trophy, she grew tired of the crowds and excused herself.

Royce and Bentley had been eager to show her off to, well, everyone they knew in Big Momma’s, but after a while, Vivien had found it hard to keep track of all the names and faces she’d been introduced to. By the time they were done showing her off, it was time for Royce to return to work, so Bentley was quick to pull her over to the booth where they were eating. That did nothing to stop the crowd from gathering at their table, making Vivien’s chest tighten as they herded around the end of the table. Claustrophobia settled in, pinning her to the booth like a wall of concrete had fallen on her from above, but it wasn’t until Carrie said something about ordering her something to eat that people began moving away.

Unable to even think of food without feeling nauseous, Vivien excused herself and ducked out through the kitchen, ducking as she scooted past the restaurant’s windows and made her way around the building to the beach. Although it didn’t take long for her to finally relax once she was away from the chaos, Vivien found herself incapable of forcing herself back inside. The thought of admitting her fears and potentially facing the swarm of people not only interested in her but also in her relationship with Royce made her breath catch in her throat, and she ultimately decided to continue along the water’s edge, keeping her distance from any rogue sun tanners or volleyball players as she went.

Her sneakers had been abandoned at some point and were tied by their laces around the belt Lela had loaned her, the Converse tapping her thigh and cascading sand down her legs with every step she took. She made sure not to stray too far from the restaurant in case anyone went searching for her, but as the collection of tiny shells in her hand began to grow, she wondered if they had chosen to let her come back when she wanted to. Examining another moon snail shell and finding it still had a little critter living inside, Vivien waited for a wave to roll in by her feet and released it back to the ocean before choosing to turn around and venture back toward the restaurant.

In the back of her mind, she wondered if anybody owned a metal detector. Her dad had taught her how to use one during their annual road trip to Hampton Beach back when her parents were still married. Though it felt like forever ago, she could distinctly recall the excitement she felt when the machine started beeping and her subsequent disappointment when they found it was just a dirty quarter that had fallen from someone’s pocket. Despite her initial dissatisfaction at the discovery, Vivien had refused to leave until she found something else, and when she later discovered someone’s watch buried in the sand on their way to their hotel for the night, her excitement returned. Nowadays, their trips to the beach were few and far between, but Vivien’s memories of happier days with her family still lived on. 

As a group of people left Big Momma’s, laughing and chattering loudly as they grabbed their surfboards and took off for the waves, Vivien took in a deep breath and wondered how many people still crowded the restaurant. Checking the cell phone she had tucked into her back pocket, Vivien sighed - it was just barely two in the afternoon. The lunch rush would soon be replaced with the dinner rush, and she would be bombarded by yet another crowd of rowdy surfers and boisterous bikers, all clamoring for a chance to speak with the new girl who had somehow managed to be the object of Royce’s affection.

They meant well - Vivien knew they did - but it was all too much, too quickly. She could handle being the drummer at the back of the stage that hardly anyone conversed with after performances, letting Riven do all the talking in interviews whenever they won a competition, and being the last one to talk during group presentations, but being the main focus of everyone’s attention - be it a big or small crowd - had never been easy for her. Honestly, it was a miracle she didn’t pass out in the booth right then and there. If it hadn’t been for Carrie stepping up and gently pushing people away with her signature, beaming smile and a thinly veiled promise for autographs if they left them alone long enough to have a meal, Vivien was sure she would have been on the floor, surrounded by worried patrons.

The idea of that crowd surrounding her and being the first thing she’d see when she came to, sent a shiver down Vivien’s spine despite the Florida heat. Yeah, that would have only made things worse. Bentley had tried to help her while the crowds cornered them, holding her hand and offering her a small smile that appeared apologetic as he tried to combat as many questions for her as the people allowed. In a way, Vivien knew he must have dealt with a similar situation upon his arrival in the small town. She could only imagine him and Royce standing in the center of Big Momma’s, being fawned over by anyone who even minutely considered Miles a friend. They probably handled it far better than she had.

They probably had warnings ahead of time. Bentley most likely handled them with ease, spouting off answers to every question with a cheerful smile and the enthusiasm of a child who still believed in Santa Claus. Royce, on the other hand, probably wasn’t much better than Vivien. As ambiverted as he was, he most likely only began to enjoy the sudden popularity once he realized it was both temporary and commonplace in the small community. Vivien’s reaction to the whole thing probably felt a bit overboard to the people in the restaurant, but being thrust into the spotlight and surrounded by total strangers in a small booth with no easy way to escape made it feel as though the world was closing in around her.

Vivien sighed to herself as she stared out at the surfers gliding over the warm water of the Gulf of Mexico. Maybe she should have gone back to the restaurant. Maybe she was just overreacting. Swallowing thickly, Vivien hoped nobody thought she was being rude for just up and leaving once she had a way out. In a way, she knew she was, but her quick departure had nothing to do with the people and everything to do with the little person in her head pressing the panic button every time someone aimed another question at her. How on earth celebrities could handle the constant spotlight and pressing questions, she would never know.

Wandering down the beach, Vivien let out a noise as she tripped over a beach bag she was sure hadn’t been there a moment ago, stumbling through the sand with an apology tumbling out of her mouth as she righted herself. The beach-goer simply waved her off and returned to the book they were reading, and with a sigh, Vivien continued her trek, only stopping as a voice called out to her, “You alright, kid?”

Squinting as the person jogged over to her, Vivien shrugged, toying with the handful of shells in her hand as she said, “I’m fine, Miles.”

The taller brunette sighed, his hands placed firmly on his hips in what Vivien could only consider to be a “dad pose” as he said, “You’re not.”

“It’s nothing,” Vivien offered, hoping to brush the whole situation under the rug. “Did the food come yet?”

“First of all,” Miles began with a somewhat disappointed look in his gaze, “you didn’t even order. Second, don’t change the subject on me. I’ve known you for long enough to know when you’re not alright.” Placing a hand on Vivien’s arm, he asked, “You know you can talk to me, right, Viv?”

Not wanting to upset the boy who was only trying to help, Vivien admitted, “I don’t like people.”

Miles chuckled, “Tell me how you really feel.”

Vivien looked up at Miles, ready to argue, before rolling her eyes as she took in the genuine humor in his eyes, “You know what I mean.” Huffing a sigh as she began walking again, Vivien admitted, “Crowds, crowded people, being the center of attention - that kind of thing. I get all claustrophobic and shit.”

Humming in understanding, Miles followed alongside the younger girl and brought an arm around her shoulders as he asked, “What happens?”

“I can’t breathe, I can’t think,” Vivien shrugged. “I remember this one time that we were at a competition, and a bunch of people with cameras came around, and I ended up passing out.”

“Damn,” Miles breathed. “Was it that bad in there for you?”

“Getting there,” Vivien sighed, leaning her head against Miles as he guided her back toward the restaurant. “I went out through the kitchen the first chance I got.”

Miles glanced around at the beach, taking in a slow breath that encouraged Vivien to do the same, “Did the fresh air help?”

“Mhm,” she nodded against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Miles said firmly as he guided Vivien toward an empty table on the front porch of the restaurant. “I, of all people, understand how hard it is to be the new kid in town. Why don’t you sit out here for a bit? I’ll get the others, and we can eat out here.”

Vivien was quick to shake her head, “I don’t want to make them drop everything and come out just because of me. I can handle it.”

“But you don’t have to,” Miles argued sincerely. “And, for the record, nobody’s going to mind moving out here if it means we don’t have to call an ambulance for you on your first day here. Besides, if anything, it gives Royce an excuse to be our waiter.”

At that, Vivien paused, her argument dying in her throat. The idea of going back into the crowded restaurant just to sit there, hoping no people crowded their table while they ate, was mildly overwhelming. Whilst she didn’t care for the notion of making everyone abandon their usual places in their favorite hangout spot, she knew it would be easier to sit outside. And, to top it all off, Miles’ suggestion that Royce would be coming to their table more frequently made her answer seem even more obvious. Finding the courage to meet Miles’ concerned blue eyes, Vivien allowed herself to nod, muttering a soft thanks as he smiled back at her.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he chuckled, patting her on the shoulder before making his way toward the front door. “You had Carrie thinking you somehow climbed out the bathroom window and ran away.”

Feeling embarrassment flood her face again, Vivien sat so that she could see the beach and began tapping her feet on the wooden deck as she distantly examined the menu before her. Though the thought of making everyone eat outside rather than inside, where the overhead fans kept everyone as cool as a cucumber, made her disappointed in herself for not being able to pull herself together in a new environment, Vivien knew Miles’ encouragement for her to choose the safest option for herself, would ultimately be the best decision in the end. It wasn’t long before Mack and Brady emerged from the restaurant, scanning the area before finding Vivien and dragging another table and handful of chairs over to meet hers.

As Mack pushed a chair in, she said, “You know, you’re not the first person to find this whole place a bit much.”

“I’m not?” Vivien asked, setting the menu down as she glanced up at the woman.

Mack laughed, shaking her head, “My first time here, I was thrown head-first into a musical number and made to dance in the center of the room with all of the other surfers and bikers. If you think I wasn’t ready to run the second it started, you’re dead wrong.”

Vivien let out a soft chuckle but, after taking a deep breath, decided to ask, “Is it always like that in there? Chaos?”

“Not all the time,” Brady offered. “Once they get used to you, you’ll meld into one group or another, and they’ll leave you alone.”

“From the sound of it, though,” Mack began with a grin, “they’re more interested in how you ended up with Royce.”

Vivien scoffed, fighting the urge to roll her eyes as she asked, “Is it really that big of a deal?”

“To them, yeah,” Brady claimed. “Since he got here, Royce hasn’t shown a deep interest in anyone. When he came back from Christmas vacation and claimed he had a girlfriend, not a lot of people believed him.”

Mack hummed, nodding in agreement as she spoke, “I think that seeing you show up all of a sudden made everyone want to know what was so special about you that he pushed aside any offers from other girls at school.”

Vivien nodded, but as the others began to pour out of the building, her mind drifted to the thought of random girls at Royce’s school asking him out. Was it just something Mack had said to ease her mind, or was it a fact that others had tried asking him out? Vivien knew he had gone on a date before, but that he and the girl - Samantha, Serenity, something with an S - only went on one relatively awful date a few months before he even met Vivien. They had talked about their previous relationships - or lack thereof - but Royce had never mentioned anything about girls asking him out at school. Vivien could understand if girls had been asking him out - hell, that’s how she ended up with him - but to think that he had been turning them away without a second thought brought a smile to Vivien’s face. 

She had to wonder, though, if it was true. Royce was the kind to get on the phone with her, listen to her blabber on and on about her day, and then do the same while she listened intently. Never had he mentioned letting down girls from his school. If it was true, he had no reason to keep it from her; she wasn’t a jealous person, after all, and they both knew that. Shaking her head with a smile as Bentley raised an eyebrow curiously at her, Vivien brushed off the thought and focused on asking everyone what they thought would be the best thing for her to order.

When Royce made his first appearance at the table, he stepped around Bentley’s chair at the end of the table and stepped up behind Vivien, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and asking if she was alright before beginning to write out their orders. Tipping her head to the side to watch as Royce scribbled out Bentley’s presumably habitual order of chicken tenders and fries, Vivien smiled up at her boyfriend as she watched him fondly. Her staring became evident as it became her turn to order, but as she’d been more focused on him than on the menu before her, Vivien stumbled over her words and hastily scanned the page in search of something to eat.

With a chuckle, Royce lowered himself to the floor beside her and softly said, “You don’t have to rush. The longer you take to order, the longer I’m able to stay out here with you.”

Vivien glanced back at him, ready to argue that it wasn’t right for him to ignore his other tables just to spend time with her, but found the words trapped in her throat as she nodded dumbly. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Well, what do you think I should get? You know this place more than I do.”

Tawny eyes scanned over the menu with ease, and Vivien found herself following his finger as he pointed at a few different things. “You like mac and cheese, so the mac and cheese bites are right up your alley, but they’re only in small portions, so if you get them with a burger, hot dog, or maybe some fish and get a cup of nacho cheese on the side, it would be good, but that’s just what I think. You don’t have to get it.”

Eyeing the small image of a basket of fried balls of mac and cheese, Vivien smiled and nodded, “Actually, I think that’s just what I’ll get. Haddock with mac and cheese bites, please.”

Royce smiled as he wrote her order on his notepad and asked, “Baked or fried fish?”

Confused by the question, Vivien softly asked, “There’s more than one way to get fish?”

“Yeah,” Royce nodded, a small laugh passing his lips. “How do you usually get yours?”

Opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, Vivien muttered, “I don’t know. My dad usually orders it when we eat out because I always go up to get stuff from the salad bar with Mom.” Hurriedly turning and leaning over so that she could see the Birches at the other side of the joined tables, she asked, “Do any of you know what I usually get?”

Brady held in a laugh and nodded knowingly, “Your dad always jokes about baked fish being healthier for you, so when your mom leaves to get her salad, he orders you guys…”

As the older man gestured toward her, the lightbulb inside her head flickered on, and Vivien turned back to her boyfriend with a smile, “Fried!” At the glowing amusement in Royce’s eyes, Vivien cleared her throat and toned down her voice as her face warmed, “I, uh, I mean, fried, please.”

Patting Vivien’s arm as she rested it on the armrest of her chair, Royce smiled and stood, “Alright. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Vivien nodded, smiling up at her boyfriend until he disappeared into the restaurant once more, and she was free to let out an uncomfortable groan as she placed her hands over her face. “I feel like a complete moron.”

Entertained by the girl’s mortification, Bentley shrugged and set his bottle of soda back on the table as he teased, “If the shoe fits.”

Miles choked on his drink, fighting to swallow his soda before coughing, “Bentley!”

Vivien was quick to brush off the remark, her smile evidence that she didn’t take the comment to heart in the slightest. “Miles, it’s fine. I thought it was funny,” she claimed with a small laugh. Turning her attention onto the blonde to her right, she asked, “So, do you have anything fun in mind that we can do while I’m here?”

Bentley was quick to nod, “I’ve already been thinking of places we should take you to and things we should do.”

“I’m not surprised,” Vivien commented with a grin. “Care to fill me in, or is it all a surprise?”

“Not all of it,” Bentley shrugged. “We can go to the record shop, and you can meet some of our friends from school and all of that stuff, but first, I have a question.”

Vivien let out a soft snort, “I might have an answer.”

Eager, Bentley beamed as he asked, “Are you gonna be staying with us while you’re here?”

“Benny,” Miles sighed, “where are we going to put her?”

“We have an extra room,” Bentley said as though it should have occurred to Miles.

Glancing at the blond boy, Carrie asked, “I thought you were going to move into that room once Miles got it cleaned out?”

“But Viv’s here now. I can wait,” Bentley brushed off with a wave of his hand. “And, for your information, I like sharing a room with Royce.”

“I never said you didn’t,” Carrie said with a shrug, brushing off the boy’s faintly snippy tone with a sigh.

Choosing to ignore the blonde, Bentley turned his pleading blue eyes onto Miles and said, “Anyway, my point is, we have a whole spare room she can use if we clean it out.”

Weakened by his brother’s powerful puppy dog eyes, Miles took in a breath and sighed, “Baby, I don’t even know where we’re going to put all of that stuff. It’s not like the cabin or our old place. We don’t have a basement to shove stuff in.”

“You don’t?” Vivien wondered, bewildered by the idea of any home not having a basement. As Miles shook his head, Bentley looked ready to whine his way to victory, but Vivien quickly jumped in, “Well, if it’s any help, I like organizing things.”

Mick let out a snort from her seat beside Vivien, “Yeah, except your closet.”

Vivien discretely flipped the older girl the bird before directing her attention back to Miles, “What I mean is that I can help put everything wherever you need it, if that’s any help to you.”

“See?” Bentley asked with a smile. “She’s even willing to help us! Can she stay with us now?”

Spotting the look of worry on Miles’ face at potentially having another mouth to feed with his already tight budget, Butchy piped up, “Actually, bud, Viv was supposed to stay with Mickie, Lela, and I.”

Bentley’s head tipped to the side, his confusion evident as he simply asked, “Where?”

“What do you mean?” Lela asked.

“With Aunt Mack and Uncle Brady in Miles’ old room, where is she going to sleep?” Bentley rephrased. “The couch?”

Miles evaded Bentley’s curiosity, glancing pleadingly toward his friends and silently asking them for help with the situation. However, it was Carrie who tried next, “When we went to Mick’s house for that Valentine’s party, Vivi and I talked on that video call thing about her staying in my apartment for a while if she ever came to visit.”

Butchy scoffed, and Vivien could almost hear him roll his eyes at the blonde from across the table as he said, “I can’t imagine anyone, especially Vivien, willingly staying under the same roof as you for any amount of time.”

Vivien made an attempt to cut in, hoping to keep the energy around the table calm before Royce returned with the food, but she was quickly interrupted as Carrie said, “Vivi and I are friends, dipshit. Right, Vivi?”

Again, Vivien opened her mouth to reply, but Butchy spoke up, “Just because you two have talked all of - what? - two times since she found out about this world, doesn’t make you friends.”

“Actually-” Vivien began, ready to defend the blonde as gently as possible, only to be cut off.

“Says the asshole who won’t even let her talk!” Carrie exclaimed.

Determined to stop things before they could escalate, Vivien tried again, “Guys, I-“

“You’re one to talk,” Butchy scoffed. “Look, just because your head’s so far up your own ass that your idea of friendship is a few little chit-chats here and there, Cole, doesn’t mean it has to be that way for the rest of us.”

As the argument continued, Vivien looked around the table. Although nobody seemed keen on stopping the pair from fighting, Bentley had pushed himself back in his chair, his eyes glued to his lap while Miles held his hand on the table, Mack and Brady appeared exasperated by the argument, though neither seemed ready to step in as both offending parties were still arguing at a relatively normal volume, and Mick and Lela just sat quietly, both seeming tired of the pair’s fights occurring so often. Tired of being spoken over, angered by the conversation spiraling out of control, and upset that nobody else seemed half as bothered as she was, Vivien took in a deep breath and thumped her fist on the table, causing those around her to jump at the noise as she turned toward the arguing pair, and snapped, “Enough! Can both of you just stop?”

Silence fell over the table as Vivien’s gaze flickered between the pair, the group watching as the usually argumentative pair fell silent. Whether it was due to the girl’s tone or the pleading look in her eyes, neither Carrie nor Butchy could be sure, but regardless, they felt their quarrel die in the silence as Vivien’s piercing emerald eyes flickered between them, effectively staring them down. With the table sitting in silence and the verbal smackdown extinguished, Vivien felt herself growing uncomfortable as she began to feel the various pairs of eyes flitting between her and the others. Sucking in a breath, she softly apologized and sunk back in her chair, hoping the cushion behind her would swallow her embarrassment.

“Viv?” Bentley asked softly, placing a hand atop the girl’s closed fist.

Letting out the rest of her breath in a sigh, Vivien opened her hand to hold Bentley’s, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice like that, especially in public.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Brady said with a shake of his head. “Are you okay?” 

Not willing to look up from an old scratch she has found on the table as her leg began bouncing again under it, Vivien shrugged, “I’m fine, it’s just-” she cut herself off with a huff, taking a moment to think about what she wanted to say. Glancing at the older couple at the end of the table, she admitted, “My parents have been arguing a lot the last week or so because Dad told Oliver he could join his boyfriend’s family on a trip during summer break, but they never asked her what she thought about it before agreeing, and I’ve had to step in to stop them a few times so Mom wouldn’t cancel all of the trips we had planned for this week. I guess I just… I wanted to stop their fight before it got worse like my parents’ have been.”

Before the others could think of something to say, Bentley grinned and squeezed Vivien’s hand, gaining her attention as he spoke, “Butchy and Carrie don’t get much worse than that. They insult each other and play tetherball with nasty remarks until someone stops them, or they get sick of each other.”

“Or one shoves the other into the town pool,” Royce commented as he stepped outside with a wide tray of food in plastic baskets with pieces of wax paper preventing anything from spilling.

Vivien attempted a small chuckle as her boyfriend placed her basket of fish before her, looking up at him as she asked, “And how often does that happen?”

As Carrie opened her mouth to respond, Bentley took his food from his brother and beamed, “Butchy’s only shoved Carrie into the pool once so far, but their fighting is pretty much an everyday thing.”

Glancing away from the brothers, who both seemed to enjoy the memory of Carrie getting pushed into the pool by the metaphorical guard dog of their mismatched, makeshift family, Vivien looked around the table and asked, “Why don’t you just lock them in a room until they work things out?”

Without allowing Butchy the chance to voice his opinion, Mick gave Vivien a look and answered, “Because they’d both come out of it in body bags if we did.”

Snorting a laugh, Vivien allowed her gaze to drift back onto her boyfriend, watching as he circled the table before coming to a stop behind her and tucking his tray under his arm. With her head tipped back, she smiled up at him and mouthed a greeting as he chuckled at her. With his free hand, Royce tapped the tip of her nose before asking if she was alright.

Incapable of wiping the smile from her face now that he was present, Vivien, in turn, asked, “What time do you get off of work?”

Out of habit, Royce shrugged, “I get out in about an hour, so two o’clock. Why?”

“That’s when I’ll be alright,” Vivien decided. “I’ll be fine in the meantime, but the moment you get to clock out and join the rest of us wherever they choose to take me, is when I’ll actually be alright.”

A deep shade of pink began to flush Royce’s cheeks, peeking through the tan the Floridian sun had graced him with over his time living in the state, but he chose to ignore the burn under his skin as he grinned at the brunette seated before him. “Well, in that case, I might just go inside and start putting all the clocks ahead an hour.”

Vivien smirked, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Deal,” Royce smiled. As though he had only just remembered the others sitting around the table, Royce glanced around and quickly said, “I’ll check on you guys in a few. I have to clear some tables.”

Grinning at the blush still evident on her boyfriend’s face, Vivien teased, “Hurry back.”

Before his older brother could respond in kind, Bentley looked up at Royce and batted his eyes at him as he repeated Vivien, “Yeah, Royce, hurry back!”

Batting the back of his brother’s head with his serving tray, Royce rolled his eyes, “Keep it up and I’ll stop buying you ice cream after school.”

“Nooo,” Bentley whined, grabbing Royce’s wrist and tugging him back to the table. Pressing the back of his free hand to his forehead, he complained, “Whatever will I do without my daily dose of crack?”

“Bentley,” Miles chided as he glanced around to make sure nobody apart from their tables had heard the boy. “You’ve got to stop with the crack thing.”

The young blond snickered, “Says the guy who has some every morning.”

Looking pleadingly at his youngest brother, Miles took in a breath and spoke in a hushed voice, “I don’t do crack.”

“Sure, you do,” Bentley teased, leaning back in his chair and beginning to count on his fingers. “You have some when you wake up, you always take some to work, and sometimes you even have some when you get home. You can’t go a day without it.”

“Ben,” Miles sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose exasperatedly as he realized exactly what Bentley meant. “How on earth does coffee equal crack to you?”

Vivien grinned, nudging Bentley’s arm as she joined the blond’s efforts and asked Miles, “Are you sure you didn’t do crack this morning?”

Looking across the table with wide eyes, Miles shook his head, “What? No.”

“In the bathroom when you got here?”

“No, I-”

“Are you doing some right now?”

“No!” Miles exclaimed with a shake of his head. “Vivien-”

“Then when?” Vivien pressed.

“Never!” Miles barked. “I have never - nor will I ever - do crack!”

“Are you sure?” Bentley questioned.

Beaming from behind Bentley’s chair, Royce spoke up before Miles could, “Are you lying?” 

“Yes,” Miles said in response to Bentley before realizing Royce’s question and backpedaling. “Wait, no! Look, you-”

“See how angry you are?” Vivien asked somewhat rhetorically. “It’s the crack.”

“Just admit it,” Bentley said with a sigh, shaking his head at his older brother. “Royce is your faithful crack dealer just as much as he is mine.”

Miles looked between the trio, beginning to wonder if he would regret offering to house the girl if this was what he would be getting himself into. Taking in a breath, he slowly turned to the others sitting around the table and breathed, “I’m going to have an aneurysm with them all together under one roof, aren’t I?”

Mack chuckled as she placed her drink back down on the table, “And you wonder what it’s like for us everytime we take you kids up to the cabin.”

“Does that mean Viv is staying with us while she’s here?” Royce asked, hope glimmering in his caramel eyes.

Hoping to finally get an answer to his earlier question, Bentley’s pale blue irises searched Miles’ face as he pleaded, “Yeah, Miley, does it?”

For a moment, Miles seemed to hesitate, momentarily thrown off by the boys’ complete one-eighty turn from taunting him to begging him for permission to house Vivien. He began to weigh his options - on one hand, the extra room had a bed and a somewhat functional closet for Vivien to put her belongings in until they got the rest of the room cleared out, but on the other, the savings he had been squirreling away to be able to buy better quality gifts for his brothers and Carrie would end up taking a hit if he had another mouth to feed. Ultimately, it was the look of hope in the trio's eyes that sealed his fate, resulting in a somewhat tentative nod from the eldest of the Murphy brothers.

“Yeah, alright,” he allowed, taking a moment to enjoy the simultaneous burst of excitement the three reveled in. With a smile, he then added, “Viv can stay with us, but you guys are going to have your work cut out for you with that bedroom.”

While the three teens began talking about how they would handle everything, Miles felt a hand on his arm, making him turn to the blonde beside him as she softly asked, “Are you sure? I don’t mind taking her back to my place.”

Miles returned her offer with a smile and a shake of his head, “It’s alright. I’ll figure something out for now and we’ll work it all out later on.”

Although he was sure that the subject was far from dropped by anyone around the table apart from the children, Miles tried to relax as the table’s occupants resumed their meal while Royce returned to his duties inside the restaurant. However, despite appearing interested in the conversations that flitted around the table and flowed from topic to topic, a mental jungle gym had already begun construction in Miles’ head. He worked hard all the time to provide for his brothers and still have a small fund set aside for dates with Carrie and days off with the boys - would having the girl stay with them be as difficult as he was making it out to be?

Since he had met her a few years back, Miles knew all too well that Vivien was far from a difficult child. She would eat pretty much anything handed to her, and he had seen her fall asleep practically anywhere she could - she wouldn’t be hard to house. However, Vivien was used to modern things that he didn’t have access to - televisions with more than a few select channels, computers that could find anything in the blink of an eye, internet, social media, and so on - and he could only provide so much. Would she be okay with the severe lack of technology in his fixer-upper of a home?

To top it all off, he knew firsthand how hard it was to stretch meals four ways. When they lived with their father, Miles would make meals every day for the four of them, taking whatever he could find in the fridge or pantry and making up a random recipe that he practically pulled out of his ass. With just his brothers, it was easy enough as they weren’t picky eaters - Pop-Tarts or toast for breakfast, discounted meals at school or work for lunch, and something more fulfilling for supper so that they had at least one meal together where they didn’t have to feel like cheapskates living paycheck to paycheck. Miles could manage that well enough. However, with Vivien not having a job or school to give her something for lunch, he’d have to take her shopping for things to eat throughout the day.

By the time the meal was over, Miles realized he hadn’t followed any of the conversation, his mind too preoccupied with his finances - or lack thereof - to bother listening to anything he wasn’t actively a part of. Once the table was cleared, they broke onto the beach, but Miles chose to sit on the front steps of the restaurant so that he was there when Royce clocked out. Carrie had sat with him for a few minutes before Vivien came over and begged them to join her in building a sandcastle. Miles had smiled and politely declined after explaining his desire to talk with Royce, but he nudged Carrie to join the group, watching the brunette pull his girlfriend away by the hand with a smile.

After discarding his apron and saying a quick farewell to some of his coworkers, Royce made his way out of the restaurant with a sigh, ready to start his three-day break from the place as the sun greeted him. Spotting his brother on the steps, Royce grinned and stepped down next to him, sitting beside Miles and leaning his head on the elder’s shoulder. “I forgot to thank you earlier.”

Glancing down at Royce’s tangled curls, Miles allowed a smirk to tug at his lips as he rested his cheek atop Royce’s head. “Oh yeah? What for?”

“Letting Viv stay with us,” Royce spoke softly as he listened to the waves crash against the shore. Lifting his head from its resting place, Royce found Miles’ baby blue eyes and said, “I’ll help however you need me to. If we need money or anything-”

“No,” Miles breathed, shaking his head lightly. Taking Royce’s hand in his, Miles squeezed it reassuringly. “We already talked about this, baby. I’m not letting you pay for anything.”

Royce’s expression contorted into one of exasperated understanding, “Miley-”

“RJ,” Miles interrupted with a smile, stopping his brother’s argument in its tracks. “I’ve got this. We’ll be alright. The only things you should focus on are work, school, and cleaning that disaster area you and Ben call a bedroom.”

Royce let out a scoff, “That’s more his disaster than it is mine.”

“Tell that to the pretty girl you’ve got staying with us,” Miles chuckled. As he glanced over at the group who were mourning the loss of a sand tower that had crumbled due to lack of moisture, Royce followed his gaze and smiled at the brunette who seemed to glow in the warmth of the Florida sun. Miles grinned at his brother’s expression and watched the group as he said, “The minute she walks in the door, you’ll see every little thing you forgot to clean and wish like hell it would all disappear before she saw anything.”

Royce’s smile seemed to falter as he recalled just how many dishes he’d left in the sink that morning that he was supposed to do after dinner that night, the basket full of freshly done laundry on the floor in his room that he’d neglected to put away and had just been pulling clothes out of for the last few days, and the multitude of books and paperwork strewn about the living room where his and Bentley’s friend groups congregated to work on homework and assignments together. As his gaze landed on Vivien once more, her infectious smile beaming proudly as she carried a snail back to the group alongside her bucket of wet sand, Royce couldn’t help but breathe, “I’m so screwed.”

Miles let out a soft chuckle and patted Royce’s knee as he stood, “Welcome to the club.”

Tearing his gaze away from his girlfriend of nearly four months to peer up at his brother, Royce’s eyebrow lifted and his head tipped to the side ever so slightly as he cautiously asked, “What club?”

Miles grinned, “The Whipped Idiots Committee. Butchy started it, I joined later on, and now, you’re here; congrats. If you’re anything like us, you’ll be here for a while.”

Though, as Miles walked off to join the others, Royce’s first instinct was to tiredly roll his eyes in disgust at the thought of Miles - of all people - feeling “whipped” over someone like Carrie, he found himself stopping to think for a moment. He knew from the relatively short amount of time he knew the man that Butchy was truly, inescapably attached to Mick’s hip; she could ask him anything and he would do it at the drop of a hat for her. And though it disgusted Royce to think about Carrie having Miles wrapped around her manicured little claws, he knew for a fact that if she told him to jump, he’d ask “how high”. Was he really any different from either of them? 

If Vivien needed Royce for anything, he would be there in an instant and they both knew it. Hell, everyone who knew about their relationship, knew it. And he knew from experience she would do the same for him. Well… him, his brothers, their collective friend group, and even people he couldn’t stand someone like Carrie. Vivien was a naturally selfless person, but Royce knew that she cared about him and he’d be damned if she didn’t know he was crazy about her. He would do anything she wanted or needed him to do; even when they were just friends, he would have done anything for her, and they both knew it.

Thinking for a moment as he watched Vivien help build a castle in the sand, Royce smiled as he realized Miles was right. He was unconditionally, irrevocably, head-over-heels whipped for the brunette girl he was fortunate enough to call his girlfriend. Was that a problem? If you asked Royce, he would say no, no it wasn’t. Not in the slightest. If anything, he was proud. You could’ve put a plastic cap on his head and shoved him into one of the refrigerators at the grocery store alongside the cans of whipped cream for all he cared. He adored Vivien with all he had, and heaven help anyone who said otherwise.

Pushing himself from the steps with a goofy grin that just wouldn’t go away despite his efforts, Royce tucked his hands into the pockets of his shorts and made his way across the sand to where Vivien had begun decorating a lopsided, half-crumbling sandcastle with the shells she had pocketed on her earlier walk. The way her tongue poked out between her lips in concentration made his grin split into a smile, but as he watched her eyes sparkle as she turned her attention toward him, he felt as though he could have melted into the sand under his feet and he would have died happy right then and there.

Vivien patted the sand on her right, an invitation of sorts that Royce eagerly accepted, his hands immediately filled with a pile of shells as Bentley continued to spout off ideas about things they could do in the area. Although Vivien’s attention was split between the brothers and the castle before her, Royce found himself listening intently as his gaze drifted onto the eldest of his siblings, finding Miles smirking knowingly at him. Royce rolled his eyes, a soft sigh passing his lips as he relented with a shrug. Yeah, Miles was right, but did he have to act like he knew he was right?

Focusing on the task at hand, Royce slid a seashell into one of the sand walls and listened as Bentley began rattling off about places he enjoyed, “There’s a nature preserve that my whole grade went to and we got to feed the alligators, but I don’t know if we would be allowed to since we’re not with the school.”

“It still sounds cool,” Vivien said with a smile. “Is that your favorite place around here?”

Bentley was quick to shake his head, but Miles began teasing him before he could speak, “No, he prefers hanging out with his little girlfriend at the art museum.”

As soon as the words left Miles’ mouth, Bentley’s face scrunched up as a look nobody could quite decipher filled his face and he shook his head, “Kona and I are just friends.”

“Whatever you say, bud,” Butchy chuckled as he and Mick worked on sculpting a moat.

“Kona?” Vivien repeated with a grin. “Like my car?”

“It’s spelled the same,” Royce shrugged. “She moved here from Hawaii not long after we got here and is in the same grade as Bentley.”

Bentley’s smile returned as he explained, “Her parents own this really cool record shop near where Miles works. Her dad runs a radio station out of it and they live upstairs. You’ve gotta meet her; you would love her.”

Vivien smiled in kind, but couldn’t help teasing the boy as she elbowed his arm, “Not nearly as much as you do, apparently.”

Choosing to simply ignore the girl’s teasing, Bentley said, “She’s got two cats who roam around the store and beg for treats.”

With a nod, Vivien sighed, “I’m not a big cat person, but I bet they’re cute.”

As though snapped from a trance, Royce looked up and found Miles’ gaze already on him, concern filling their locked eyes as Bentley asked, “You don’t like cats?”

Vivien shrugged, “It’s not that I don’t like them - I do and I think they’re adorable - I’ve just never had one around, so I prefer dogs. My mom claims that she’s allergic to cats, so we’ve always had dogs. Personally, I think she just doesn’t like cats because she’s always calling them prissy and aggressive.”

Tentatively, Royce swallowed thickly and turned toward his girlfriend with a hopeful grin, “Would you mind living with one?”

Confused, Vivien shook her head, “No, why? Do you want one?”

“We already have one,” Miles explained. “A black cat we got around Halloween a while back.”

“His name is Binx - like the Hocus Pocus cat,” Bentley added with a proud smile as he stuck a stick into the top of a sand tower. “He likes Cheetos, long baths, and he sits on our shoulders like a parrot sometimes.”

Vivien giggled, while the concept of the boys having a pet had crossed her mind, she just assumed Miles would have a German shepherd or something for protection - if not a breed with enough energy to entertain Bentley’s golden retriever mannerisms. If anything, the only person in that house who she could imagine owning a cat was her boyfriend. Royce was, for all intents and purposes, the embodiment of a Chartreux - quiet, inquisitive, and gentle, yet playful when he wanted to be. He seemed to be the oddball of the group - Vivien’s spirit animal of sorts being the same outgoing, yet calm and perceptive hound who always fell asleep somewhere on her bed back home.

Shaking her head, Vivien grinned, “If you guys don’t have Cheetos at home, we need to pick some up for him.”

Carrie beamed, “They keep a bag just for him.”

“Aww!” Vivien cooed, her smile growing so big it began pushing her eyes closed. Lightly smacking Royce’s arm with the back of her hand, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about him before?���

“I thought I had,” Royce admitted shyly.

Vivien shook her head, “I would’ve remembered his name! Hocus Pocus is one of my favorite movies of all time.”

“Sorry,” Royce chuckled, a hand coming up to the back of his neck as Vivien smiled in his direction.

Nudging Royce’s arm with an elbow, Vivien grinned, “That just means you’ll have to formally introduce us later.”

Feeling himself smile as warmth crawled up his neck and spread across his cheeks, Royce nodded and breathed, “Yeah, okay.”

Giggling at her boyfriend’s reaction, Vivien turned to the others and asked, “So, what should we do first? Should we take the day to clean, and then you guys can show me around tomorrow, or…?”

“Well, today’s Saturday, so Kona should be busy helping her dad with his broadcast,” Bentley commented thoughtfully. “And the museums will be packed.”

“Sadly, so will that new mall I told you about on the phone,” Carrie mentioned as Vivien glanced her way. “Saturdays are when everyone and their mother try to get good deals.”

Royce looked ready to argue that he knew all too well that the blonde had already wasted enough money at the shiny new building, but Vivien spoke before he got the chance, effectively shutting down any snide remarks he planned on making as she smiled in Carrie’s direction. “I guess some things never change. My bandmates, Erica and Jade, work at the Mall of New Hampshire and say that they only work weekends so they get to watch the chaos from the food court on their breaks.”

Realizing, to his dismay, that his girlfriend would probably be just as enamored with the new shopping center as Carrie was, Royce asked, “Do you go there often?”

“All the time!” Vivien exclaimed. “It’s not a huge mall or anything, but they have some of the best clothes and stuff. I got my first pair of skates at that mall when I was little.”

“They sell figure skates at the mall?” Bentley asked.

“Yeah,” Vivien nodded. Glancing over at the unsuspecting Butchy, she smirked and added, “We went to Dick’s.”

Butchy looked up, an eyebrow raised at the younger girl as she grinned in his direction. Although he looked ready to speak up and ask the girl how on earth that could be the name of a store, Bentley beat him to the punch as his blue eyes sparkled with glee, “Dick’s?”

Vivien nodded, glad to finally have found a way to evade Butchy’s tax on swearing, but Royce let out a snort as he asked, “Is there seriously a store named Dick’s?”

“Dick’s Sporting Goods,” Mick nodded, fighting back a laugh as Butchy’s head practically snapped toward her, an incredulous look in his eyes. “What? It’s true!”

“You’ve got to be screwing with me,” Butchy muttered. 

Carrie scoffed a laugh, her oversized sunglasses lifting as she smirked at Butchy, “What? Can’t handle a few Dick’s being thrown around here and there?”

“Yeah, it’s just a sports shop, big guy.” Vivien smirked, glancing around the group as she thoughtfully said, “I bet you would’ve had a heart attack if you had been with us on that trip my school took to the Hoover Dam.”

Bentley’s eyes sparkled as the third Percy Jackson book dragged to the front of his mind, and he asked, “Did you have to ride the dam elevator?”

Ignoring Butchy’s startled call of her friend’s name, Vivien beamed, “We did, but a few of us had to stop to use the dam bathroom first.”

Having read the books with his brother and girlfriend, Royce grinned as he questioned, “Did you get any dam snacks from the dam snack bar?”

“I bet those dam t-shirts were expensive.” An almost maniacal giggle bubbled up from Vivien’s chest as Mick spoke, her nonchalance causing a ripple of laughter to course through the group as Butchy sighed.

“This is the part where I admit defeat,” he muttered, pushing himself to his feet.

“I’d tell you to give up while you’re ahead, but you’re definitely not ahead of them by any means,” Miles chuckled, following his friend’s lead before reaching down and offering a hand to his girlfriend. As the kids scrambled to their feet, proud smiles on their faces as Butchy and Mick began the walk to Mick’s bus, Miles asked, “So, kiddies, where to first?”

Vivien took in a breath as both Royce and Bentley turned toward her expectantly, but her first thought wasn’t of adventure; it was of genuine confusion as Miles and Carrie followed the others toward Mick’s Volkswagen. “I thought we were going with you guys. Where’s your car?”

“We walked,” Bentley said with a shrug. “Our house is close enough that we walk or ride our bikes everywhere almost every day.”

“And I left my car at their house,” Carrie added, nudging her sunglasses further up her nose with a smile at the brunette.

Ignoring the blonde’s addition to the conversation with ease despite his girlfriend’s nod of understanding, Royce added, “And Miles’ piece of crap Jeep needs new spark plugs.”

“It’s not a piece of crap if it gets you two to school on time,” Miles sighed, the mere thought of having to put more work into the rust bucket exhausting him.

“What do you need to have done to it?” Vivien asked. “My Grandpa George lets me help him with his old truck all the time; maybe I can help.”

Miles shook his head, “You’re our guest; you shouldn’t be helping me with stuff like that. Besides, it’s mostly simple fixes - new spark plugs, an oil change, that kind of thing. The only thing I need to check on other than that is the clutch.”

“You drive a stick?” Vivien asked, her eyes sparkling at the thought. “Can you teach me how?”

Smiling at the girl, Miles chuckled and nodded, “Maybe one of these days, sure. Now, where do you need to go?”

Sighing as Miles turned the topic back onto her, Vivien shrugged as she replied, “Can we stop at a gas station or something so I can pick up some snacks before we get to cleaning?”

“Then what?” Carrie asked before Miles could ask her what she wanted.

“I don’t know, really,” Vivien admitted as Bentley tucked his arm into the crook of her elbow, her other arm already looped around Royce’s. “I’m just happy to be here with you guys. It doesn’t feel real.”

“I know the feeling,” Royce chuckled, offering his girlfriend a smile. “Having you here is so surreal.”

“Just wait until you meet everyone,” Bentley said, hopping off of a concrete parking block as Vivien laughed.

“You mean I haven’t already?” she asked. “I think I met everyone in town.”

“Not everyone,” Royce claimed, “but there aren’t a lot of people you haven’t met yet.”

“Kona, Zack, and August,” Bentley began.

“Benny’s friends from school,” Royce explained, to which Vivien nodded.

“Don’t forget Sandy, Lake, and Kit,” Miles tacked on.

“Cassandra Wheaton, and Laken and Katrina Dubois,” Bentley explained, tugging Vivien’s hand as he spoke. “Those are Royce’s friends.”

“Sandy is this red-head girl in my grade who constantly picks fights with the teachers if she thinks they’re wrong,” Royce explained. “She’s related to Butchy’s friend, Larry.”

“Lugnut,” Miles stated, holding the door open for the kids to climb in. “That’s what we call him. And, for the record, they’re cousins.”

“Why on earth do you call him that?” Vivien asked with a grin, pausing by the doorway. “Because he’s got bolts for brains?”

Butchy snorted from the front seat, turning to grin at the kids, “That’s one reason.”

As Bentley followed Vivien into the VW bus, Royce said, “She and her family are on vacation this week, though. Lake and Kit, on the other hand, are Lela's boyfriend’s best friend’s younger brother and sister - they’re twins.”

“Lake is usually the one getting into trouble at school, but he gets good enough grades that nobody really says anything,” Royce explained. “Kit, on the other hand, is the only sane one. She’s the polar opposite of her brother in school, but we’re all pretty sure she’s got some kind of rebellious side under her good-girl exterior.”

As Vivien pieced together the web that linked the group together as friends, she smiled curiously, “And they’re your friends from school?” Royce nodded, and Vivien shook her head with a chuckle. “Sounds like my friends - a mismatched abomination that works, for whatever reason.”

Royce smiled, but it was Bentley who spoke up, “You know, Lake’s the only reason Royce didn’t get in much trouble for punching that kid in the face back in February.”

“Really?” Vivien asked. When Bentley nodded proudly, still clearly relishing in how protective his typically calm older brother had gotten, Vivien turned to Royce and said, “I have to say, when I first found out about that, I didn’t believe it, but now that I know it’s true, I’m proud of you.”

Royce looked away as he heaved a sigh, “I could have handled it better.”

“You could,” Vivien shrugged, “but I would have done the same.”

“You would have?” Royce asked softly as the door slid shut behind Miles.

Vivien hummed, nodding in confirmation before smiling at her boyfriend, “Nobody messes with our siblings.”

Royce smiled, a breath of a laugh escaping him as he nodded, “I still feel kind of bad about breaking his nose and tripping the other one down the stairs.”

“You shouldn’t,” Vivien claimed calmly. Leaning her head on Royce’s shoulder, she smirked as she added, “Besides, I kind of like the thought of seeing you get all protective over the people you care about.”

One of Royce’s eyebrows raised as he looked down at the top of Vivien’s head. “Yeah?”

Instead of replying outright, she nodded against his shoulder, tipping her head back so that she could see his face as she muttered, “I would have paid big bucks to watch it go down.”

“I watched it in real time,” Bentley claimed, heaving a laugh as he recalled the day he watched his ever-calm older brother rail his fist into an upperclassman’s face. “It was a wonder Royce didn’t break his fist in Darren’s face.”

“Or get into any more trouble than I did,” Royce sighed as he leaned over to look at Bentley. “It was honestly a miracle I wasn’t suspended.”

Bentley rolled his eyes before grinning at Vivien and explaining, “Lake went with us to the principal and explained that he saw the whole thing. If he hadn’t, we would’ve gone back and forth until the bell rang.”

“Instead,” Royce continued, “they took his word and called Miles to come and pick us up.”

Turning enough to see the kids, Miles mused, “Most terrifying call of my life.”

“How come?” Vivien asked.

“All they told me was that there was a fight and I needed to get the boys,” Miles recalled. With a sigh, he said, “Since neither of them start fights, I figured I’d be dealing with broken teeth and blood everywhere. Instead, I get to the office, find some kid being called into the principal’s office with an icepack on his face, and these two sitting with the nurse, looking relatively unharmed.”

Royce glanced down at the knuckles on his right hand, flexing and clenching his fist as he examined the leftover marks from his first-ever fistfight. Though it wasn’t his dominant hand, his punch to the older boy’s face had certainly made a mark on both him and the older boy - breaking Darren’s nose for the second time that school year. The quarterback was a caricature of the stereotypical jock - obnoxiously loud, rude, and always vying for access to some poor girl’s skirt. Although Royce doubted he had much success with women in general, Darren acted like he had been crowned King of the school anytime he had a girl under his arm, pushing underclassmen out of his way and picking out random things to taunt them with at least once a day. He was rude, uncouth, and, quite frankly, had the punch coming.

“It’s just a miracle his parent’s didn’t press charges,” Miles mused. “Lawyer fees wouldn’t be cheap if we went against the town’s darling little quarterback.”

“It would have been sooo worth it to take them all down a peg, though,” Carrie sighed. 

“Why do you even care?” Royce asked with a roll of his eyes. “Just because you would’ve had the money to handle it doesn’t mean all of us peasants could’ve.”

Though Carrie looked ready to fire back something about how money had little to do with the situation or how she cared because Miles cared, she bit her tongue and instead sighed, “I’ve heard enough shit about that family. They’re dicks to everyone.”

“Oh, joy,” Vivien sighed with a roll of her eyes. “I get away from one asshole family at my school only to meet another asshole family at this one.”

“Swear jar,” Butchy muttered from the front, echoed in near unison by his younger sister and Miles.

“Good thing I’m not staying at your place tonight,” Vivien snickered.

Lela glanced at the girl and sighed, “Don’t be surprised if he nails you for it later.”

“That’s not fair,” Vivien huffed.

“Neither is the swear jar,” Miles laughed.

“College fund,” Butchy corrected.

“More like the bullshit fund,” Carrie claimed with a roll of her eyes as she looked out the window at the passing scenery.

“Wait, how come she gets to cuss, but I don’t?” Vivien scoffed in disbelief, gesturing to Carrie.

Twisting in his seat to look back at the teenager in the backseat, Butchy grinned, “Because I don’t care what she does. You, on the other hand, are one of my responsibilities while you’re here.”

Crossing her arms over her chest and preparing her fiercest glare, Vivien smirked, but Miles caught on quickly, smirking as he attempted to placate the girl before she could push Butchy’s buttons any more than he was sure she had already planned to, “I wouldn’t.”

Choosing to ignore Miles’ tame warning, Vivien giggled, “If Butchy can’t handle the heat, maybe he shouldn’t be such a colossal dickhead.” 

“Vivien,” Mack cautioned, ��be nice.”

“I just want to see where the line is so that I can play jump rope with it,” Vivien claimed somewhat innocently, making Butchy roll his eyes as he turned back toward the road ahead. “Have I crossed it yet?”

“Wouldn’t be the first or the last time you did,” Butchy shrugged.

Vivien’s smile only seemed to grow as she contemplated her next course of action. Tapping her chin thoughtfully, she hummed, “How about prick; is that okay, Corporal Shithead?”

“I mean, under certain circumstances, I guess, but-”

“Shit? Damn?” Vivien continued. “How about Dick’s? The sporting goods place, not the anatomy.”

“I don’t have a written list of acceptable swears,” Butchy claimed with a chuckle. “And, yeah, store names are fine. Why do you-”

“How about fuck-nuggets?” Vivien pressed, her eyes practically glistening with joy. “I reserve that one for special people, you know, Señor Fu-”

“We’re here!” Mick exclaimed, cutting off Vivien’s fun as she pulled into the parking lot of a red and white convenience store, rolling up to the side of a gas pump before putting the oversized vehicle in park.

As she jumped out of the van, Vivien stared up at the building’s name with a look of scrutiny, encouraging a snort from Butchy as he smirked at her. “What’s with your face, piccola?”

Without batting an eye, Vivien stared up at the sign and asked, “The fuck is Wawa - some baby store bullshit?”

“It’s a gas station,” Bentley laughed as he followed Miles toward the store, digging into his pocket for some money. “You wanted snacks.”

Nudging the girl with his arm, Butchy grinned, “They have some of the best mac and cheese you will ever try.”

Slowly tearing her gaze from the store, Vivien looked up at Butchy and inspected his expression before softly asking him, “Better than Chick-fil-A?”

Dutifully, Butchy nodded as he brought an arm around the brunette’s shoulders, “By far.”

Eyes widening at the idea of anything being better than Chick-fil-A’s mac and cheese, Vivien swallowed and allowed Butchy to guide her toward the store. “I swear,” she began as he pulled the door open for her, “if you’re lying to me, I’ll strangle you.”

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, Butchy asked, “And if I was right?”

Vivien thought for a moment before shrugging, “I don’t know - I’ll tell Mick to kiss you or something.”

Butchy’s flat stare landed on Vivien as he asked, “She and I have been together for years now; why wouldn’t she kiss me?”

After thinking for a second, she shuddered and made a face at the taller man, “Well, I’m certainly not kissing you.”

Though Butchy pretended to gag at the thought, Vivien giggled, shoving him with her elbow as he guided her toward the wall of buffet-style foods across from the door. Chuckling, Butchy said, “Go check out the food, child. I’m going to pry Lela away from the Slurpee machine before she brings home another abomination that makes her sick.”

“Good luck with that,” Vivien snickered, watching him saunter off with a grin before turning to the food before her. The typical gas station foods - cheap hotdogs, sketchy burritos, and some half-empty trays of pizza - were on full display, but Vivien passed them with ease as her gaze narrowed in on a heated section of deep metal bowls of soups and steaming mac and cheese. Taking in a slow breath, Vivien paused as the smell of the food filled her. Why did it smell good? Gas station food never smelled good.

As a hand landed on her shoulder, Vivien jumped, turning toward Mack with wide eyes. Curious, the woman examined the food before asking, “Looks a hell of a lot better than the stuff we’d get at Cumby’s, doesn’t it?”

Cumberland Farms, a convenience store chain most commonly found in the New England region that Vivien proudly hailed from, was known amongst locals for their terrible, grow-hair-on-your-chest type coffee and shitty selection of “hot foods” that workers would hastily throw into the microwave before selling. Despite their food being sub-par, Vivien almost always stopped there for gas and a snack between school and skate practice. This Wawa place was putting her favorite gas station to shame with their fancy displays of food and varied selection of decent-looking snacks! 

Nodding at the older woman, she asked, “Why does it smell so good?” 

Mack smiled, “Because, believe it or not, it’s good food.”

“You’ve had some?” Vivien asked. When the graying woman nodded, she looked at the array of food and asked, “What do you recommend?”

“Just about anything,” Mack shrugged. “It’s all a lot cheaper than the stuff back home.”

As the brunette woman patted her shoulder and walked away, Vivien’s eyebrow raised, but as she slowly turned her attention back to the food before her, her curiosity was quickly replaced with surprise as she read the prices along the top of the heated cases. Thirty-five cents for a bowl of mac and cheese?! A box of uncooked mac and cheese - not even a good brand, just the generic, store-brand kind - back home was almost two dollars, and you still had to buy butter and milk to make it! Digging into the purse Lela had let her borrow, Vivien dug out her NASA-branded wallet and came to the realization that she had saved a load more money for the trip than she would probably ever need. Feeling a sense of wealth in a gas station - of all places - was surreal, but there she was, standing in front of the gas station’s array of mac and cheeses, feeling like the richest person in the world. Having saved all of her money from her band’s tip jar at their gigs, her allowances, and her part-time work at her family’s winery, she now had just shy of a thousand dollars saved for a trip that would, more likely than not, cost a whole lot less than she had anticipated.

“Are you good, kid?” a voice asked, making Vivien hastily zip her wallet shut as she turned toward Miles, her thoughts running wild at the thought of storming into the nearby mall and buying everything her heart desired without feeling bad for spending a ton on herself.

Vivien scrambled to find the words to say before stammering out, “I-I, uh, I just- I saved money for this trip.”

Miles smiled, a sense of pride filling him as he nodded, “Good job. Is it enough to buy what you want or do you need some change?”

Vivien’s eyes flickered to the sign, its two-digit number startling her once more as she half expected it to have changed since the last time she looked. With a vehement shake of her head, she began, “N-No, it’s not-!” She cut herself off and took in a breath, lowering her voice to a whisper and holding up her wallet with wide eyes, “I think I could buy a house with this.”

Miles glanced at the girl’s wallet and smirked, placing a hand over it and lowering it, “I highly doubt that, but isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yeah, I think so, but-”

“But nothing,” Miles interrupted, taking the girl’s arms in his hands and forcing her to focus on his words. “You’re here to have fun, not worry about finances.”

Vivien nodded dutifully, but as her gaze fell on her borrowed clothes, she found herself beginning to worry again as she muttered, “I don’t have any clothes.”

“What?” Miles asked, not having heard the girl’s simple statement.

Emerald eyes flickered up to meet Miles’, and he watched as worry filled them. “Mick told me to leave my clothes at her parent’s house and only take what I needed because I’d leave here with more clothes than I could fit in my suitcase. I borrowed all of this-” she gestured to herself, “from Lela. I don’t- I don’t have pajamas for tonight or clothes for tomorrow - o-or any day, for that matter. Miles, what am I going to do? I can’t just run around in the same outfit every day!”

“First of all, breathe,” Miles instructed, waiting until Vivien sucked in a breath before continuing, “and second, relax. You can borrow something for tonight, and I can take you clothes shopping tomorrow.”

Vivien took in the idea and slowly nodded. “Are you sure? I don’t want to get in the way of your plans.”

“You won’t,” Miles decided with a shake of his head. “We’ll worry about all of that tomorrow. Now, go pick out some snacks for tonight before the boys decide to buy half the store for you.”

Allowing Miles to nudge her toward the coolers full of drinks where Bentley and Royce were arguing over which drink they thought Vivien would want, she shoved her wallet back into her bag and allowed their voices to lure her in, glancing around at the myriad of snacks available as she closed the distance between them. “What’re you guys talking about?”

Glad to have someone there as a tie-breaker, Bentley beamed, “Oh, good! Viv, would you please tell your boyfriend that you’d like root beer more than Mountain Dew?”

Switching her gaze from the bottle of A&W in Bentley’s hand to the sloshing, radioactive green liquid in the glass bottle held by the brunet on her right, Vivien opened her mouth to speak, but Royce spoke first, “She’s been talking about having us bring her a bottle of this stuff since January, Ben.”

Choosing to speak up before the boys could argue more about her choice of drink, Vivien asked, “Why not just get both?” When the boys looked her way, she said, “I can have one tonight while we work and another in the morning with breakfast.”

“Soda with breakfast?” Bentley wondered aloud, glancing between Vivien and Royce. “Is that allowed?”

Vivien shrugged as she took the bottles from the boys, “Why not? If Miles can have his crackhead coffee in the morning, I can have a soda.”

Turning on her heel, Vivien headed for the chip aisle, examining the funky fonts with a smile as the boys fetched their own drinks from the coolers. As she picked up a tube of Pringles - the “newfangled” chip in a can, as the container claimed - Vivien tucked it into the crook of her elbow and waited for the boys to pick out their own snacks before following them to the cash register where a middle-aged man in a sweater vest began punching in the prices of their selection. Pulling out her wallet, Vivien began searching for her one-dollar bills, but Royce was quicker as he handed over a few bills and accepted the change from the cashier.

Taking the bag of items from the counter and thanking the man, Vivien allowed Royce to lead her outside before speaking, “I was going to pay for that, you know.”

“I know,” Royce said, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips as Bentley pulled his drink and snack from the bag in Vivien’s arms and took off for the van, “but I also know how expensive things are back in your world and how cheap everything seems here. You and I both know you’ll try paying for anything and everything if you get the chance, and I wanted to be able to say that I paid for at least one thing for you while you’re here.”

Vivien couldn’t argue with her boyfriend’s good intentions. She knew he meant well and, well, he wasn’t wrong. She liked being able to provide for the people she cared about. Taking in a breath and sighing, she relented, “Alright, you’ve got me there.”

“I know,” Royce smirked triumphantly. “I just hope you’ll let me pay for our anniversary dinner.”

“Anniversary dinner?” Vivien echoed. “We haven’t been together a year yet, Rolls.”

“No, but it’s almost our four-month anniversary, and we haven’t had the chance to really celebrate the last three,” Royce stated as they reached Mick’s bus, taking the bag from Vivien and stepping aside to allow her to climb in. “Why; do you not want to celebrate it?”

“I hadn’t thought about it, to be honest with you,” Vivien admitted. “My parents only really ever celebrated their yearly anniversary.” Pausing as she stepped into the bus, Vivien turned back to Royce and said, “But, I guess, if you think about it, they are divorced now. Maybe it’s not such a good idea to follow their lead.”

Royce let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah, maybe not.”

Once they were seated, Vivien leaned her head on Royce’s shoulder and asked, “So what did you have in mind for it?”

Royce chuckled somewhat nervously, “Honestly, I hadn’t really planned anything since I thought we would be on opposite sides of the country. My original plan was to see if we could have dinner over video chat or something, but now that you’re here, I don’t know what to do.”

Vivien hummed as she smiled up at her boyfriend, “Well, we have plenty of time to figure it out.”

“Yeah,” Royce nodded as he returned her smile, leaning closer to her with the intention of pressing the tip of his nose to hers in a sort of eskimo kiss. However, the van’s other occupant had another idea.

“Can you guys not be all lovey-dovey and gross when I’m trying to eat?” Bentley complained, interrupting the couple’s interaction and digging his hand back into his snack bag as the others began to return to the vehicle. 

Instead of resorting to sitting silently and putting up with the boy’s teasing, Vivien turned toward the blond and pursed her lips, smacking them in an effort to psych him out with her exaggerated kissing noises as she leaned toward him, acting as though she was going to kiss him. Bentley was quick to react, letting out a squeal as he pressed himself as far away from her as possible. As he tossed a handful of Corn Diggers at Vivien, pleading with her to stop, Vivien laughed triumphantly and returned to her seat, pulling a couple of the Bugles' predecessors from her ponytail and popping them into her mouth as Bentley let out a noise of complaint.

“You tossed ‘em, you lost ‘em,” Vivien taunted in a sing-song voice, handing one of the corn chips to Royce as he chuckled beside her.

Before Bentley could complain any further, Mick turned toward the others in the back of the bus and asked, “Everybody in?”

Once everyone gave some form of confirmation, Mick turned back to the wheel before her and twisted the key in the ignition, feeling the vehicle rumble to life before pulling away from the gas pump. As the bus pulled away from the gas station and began to roll down Gulf Boulevard, Bentley and Royce began showing Vivien their town through the windows, pointing out locations as they flew by. Although the glimpses of buildings and hang-out spots wouldn’t satiate Vivien’s desire to explore to small city to its fullest, the palpable excitement radiating off of the boys on either side of her as they rambled and raved about their favorite places made her feel as though she had explored the area alongside them. 

To Vivien’s great disappointment, the car ride didn’t last long, and they were pulling into the brick-lined driveway of Butchy and Lela’s Mediterranean-style home within minutes. The red shingles on the roof glistened in the afternoon sun, giving the structure a warm, comforting glow as Mick rolled to a stop in front of the garage. Climbing out of the bus, Vivien looked around at the neighborhood, a collection of one-floor, mid-century homes dotting the streets amidst the occasional larger home and making Vivien breath a sort of chuckle through her nose as she smirked. The pattern of large and small homes distantly reminded her of Morse Code - the larger building becoming dashes and the smaller ones turning into little dots in her head. However, before she could think too much on it, Lela took the girl by the hand and began leading her up the brick walkway to the front door, pushing her way inside before turning back toward the group and calling for Carrie to join them. Lela pulled Vivien inside before leaving to retrieve the girl’s suitcase from the kitchen where she had abandoned it earlier, allowing the younger teen to look around the living room for the first time as Carrie’s platform boots clunked against the hardwood floors. Though Vivien was only somewhat disappointed the home didn’t have a sunken conversation pit for a living room, the patterns and warm colors gave off an inherently sixties vibe that made her smile nonetheless. Turning to Carrie with a smile, Vivien watched as the blonde rolled her eyes, nudging her sunglasses atop her head with a sigh.

“This place feels like something out of I Dream of Jeannie,” Vivien commented with a smile, “or Bewitched or I Love Lucy.”

Carrie looked around and shrugged slightly, her head tipping to the side in a sort of “I guess so,” movement. Then, she beamed, “If you think this is nice, just wait until you see my place.”

“I thought you said you guys weren’t done rearranging your furniture again?” Lela wondered as she rolled Vivien’s suitcase into the living room.

“We’re not,” Carrie agreed, “but it still has one of the best ocean views anyone could ask for.”

“And looks like the inside of a Barbie Dreamhouse,” Butchy poked as he followed his wife into the house and headed for the kitchen with one of their bags from the convenience store.

The half-assed jab at her choice in decor did nothing to Carrie as she rolled her eyes and called after him, “At least I have taste. Your wallpaper is so bright it could blind the people on the moon.”

“Hey,” Mick whined in a mildly offended tone as she looked around her ecclectically decorated living quarters. “I thought you liked the wallpaper.”

As Carrie struggled to find something nice to say about the yellow, floral, somewhat kitschy wallpaper, Vivien quickly turned to the brunette and attempted to cover for the blonde, “I think it’s beautiful, Mickie. Loud and proud, but beautiful. Right, Carrie?”

“Yeah!” Carrie hurried to agree, plastering a smile on her face that only a skilled actress - such as herself - could have pulled off so flawlessly. “It matches the furniture and decor perfectly.”

Wiping her dismay from her face, Mick grinned, “I’m just screwing with you. It’s ugly as sin and we all know it.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Carrie pressed a hand to her chest and breathed, “Oh, thank God.”

“It really is awful,” Vivien muttered as she looked around. Glancing at the coffee table in all of its wiry, metallic glory, Vivien winced at the rug. “I mean, come on, Mick! You’ve got a baby-poop-green rug, for crying out loud.”

Mick leaned against the back of the couch and laughed, “It’s atrocious, isn’t it? We’re going to be redecorating entire ground level soon.”

“Finally getting rid of the poop rug?” Bentley asked in a giggle as he perched himself on the armrest of a chair.

“If that thing’s not the first thing that gets thrown in the dumpster,” Butchy began as he came back into the room with a freshly opened box of popsicles and began handing them out, “I might just pitch myself off of the roof.”

“Promise?” Carrie asked with a smirk.

Digging into the box, Butchy produced a purple popsicle with a grin and held it out to the blonde with a smirk, watching as her expression soured once he pushed the clear plastic wrapper into her hand. “Just for that, here you go.”

“I’d rather drink sewer water,” Carrie claimed, letting the popsicle dangle from her fingers as she pinched the stick, her nose crinkling in disgust as she eyes the offensively purple ice pop.

With a giggle, Vivien pried the popsicle from Carrie’s hand and swapped it for the blue raspberry one she had been given, claiming, “I love the grape ones.”

“More power to ya,” Carrie shuddered. “They taste like these shitty throat drops I had to take before singing lessons.”

Butchy smiled as he slowly turned, ready to hit the blonde with a comment about how her singing lessons were clearly a waste of her family’s money, but Lela quickly intervened with a smile, stepping up to grab a pink-lemonade-flavored pop from the box in her brother’s hands before turning to Vivien and Carrie. “Are you girls ready?”

“For what?” Vivien asked as she unwrapped her purple pop.

“We need to make up a list of all the things you need so that we can go shopping,” Carrie explained.

Vivien shook her head with a small smile, “That’s alright, guys, Miles already said he’d take me shopping tomorrow.”

Not even a moment after the words left Vivien’s mouth, Miles felt the urge to run, hide, melt in to the floor - anything to get away before he felt the stares of the women around him sear holes into his skin. However, to his dismay, he felt rooted in place by an invisible force that he knew could only be described as fear - though he would never admit it. If it wasn’t bad enough that Lela’s mildly bewildered, somewhat upset blue eyes landed on him with an immediate “how dare you” glare befitting of her status as the self-proclaimed, spoiled youngest child, Miles tried not to wince as Carrie’s sharp gaze landed on him, her rarely used, angry girlfriend stare boring into his soul. Miles had hoped he would have the chance to tell at least Carrie about his short conversation with Vivien about taking the chance to shop on a day he and his brothers had nothing better to do. He knew Carrie would have understood and told the others - mainly the raven-haired girl starring daggers at him in the hopes he would croak where he stood - to let things go for the night.

Clearly, however, he hadn’t had the chance.

“You what?” Lela asked darkly, a thinly veiled threat latched onto her words. 

“Yeah,” Carrie nodded, her arms crossing over her chest as she watched her boyfriend’s expression flit as he fought the urge to speak up in defense of his actions. “We told you we wanted to take her shipping tonight while you guys worked on getting things set up for her in the spare room.”

Shrugging in a vain attempt to calm the girls’ fury, Miles admitted, “I told her she could just relax tonight and get used to our place a bit before we hound her with shopping trips and adventures. You guys can still take her, but I wanted her to feel comfortable first.”

“He’s right,” Vivien confirmed with a nod as she took a bite of her popsicle, watching in mild amusement as Carrie and Lela’s matching aquamarine gazes fell on her in near-perfect unison. “I wanted to help clean out the room I’m staying in tonight anyway. I like organizing, and, besides, I would’ve felt bad if the guys did all the work when I had already offered to help.”

Carrie hummed thoughtfully, accepting the teen’s statement with relative ease as Lela huffed, “Fine, but we’re taking you out tomorrow - no excuses.”

Raising her hands in surrender, Vivien nodded, “So long as I can crash in a nice, comfy bed tonight, I have no issue with going out tomorrow. You can drag me out of bed, for all I care.”

“Don’t tell them that,” Bentley said quickly, shaking his head emphatically at the brunette. “They take that stuff literally.”

Vivien smiled at the young blond, but found her amusement wiped off her face as she caught sight of Lela’s mischievously glittering eyes. She attempted a glance at Carrie, but found the blonde smiling knowingly in her direction, the actress’ excitement fueled by her eagerness to get the chance to spend time with Vivien and get to know the young figure skater better. Hoping she wouldn’t regret signing up for whatever day-long plans the girls had in store for her, Vivien swallowed and plastered a wary smile on her face as she asked, “Why do I have the feeling I'm going to regret agreeing to this?”

“Hanging out with Lela is fun, but you’re spending the day with Carrie too,” Royce stated before taking in the last bite of his popsicle. Quickly polishing it off, he grinned as he rhetorically asked, “Who wouldn’t regret that?”

Though Royce was quickly shut up by Miles elbowing his side and quietly telling him to quit it, Vivien latched onto his words and stared him down with a disappointed frown knitting her eyebrows together. With Vivien’s stare unwavering, Royce opened his mouth to speak before sighing and looking away, his small argument forgotten. Placing a hand on Carrie’s arm, Vivien turned her gaze onto the blonde and smiled, “I’m actually looking forward to spending more time with you.”

“You are?” Carrie asked, echoed bewilderedly by Butchy, Royce, and Bentley.

The smiling brunette nodded, ignoring the boys’ comments and grinning as she admitted, “We haven’t really gotten the chance to get to know each other other than our love of theatre and music, so I don’t doubt we’ll have a lot of fun tomorrow.”

Vivien could tell by her smile that Carrie was happy, but the actress’ eyes seemed to water at her words, tears she was determined not to shed making her eyes burn. Carrie pulled herself together as best she could before nodding, “Lela and I will make sure you have fun.”

“And,” Lela began, sidling up to the pair with a smile and bringing her arms around them, “maybe we can even make a detour to Sycamore Close to check out where Miles and Carrie work.”

Though confused at first, realization hit Vivien like a Mack truck speeding down the highway as she recalled just where Carrie worked. Beaming at the blonde, she asked, “Really? Can we check out the studio?”

Carrie shrugged, a teasing gleam in her eyes as she offered, “I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”

As Carrie pivoted on her heel and began sauntering toward the door, Vivien balked and squawked, “You can’t just give me a ‘you’ll see’ and walk away!”

“I just did!” Carrie laughed as she stepped outside.

Vivien made a noise of disgruntled surprise and followed the actress, but was stopped at the doorway by Butchy’s arm. Looking up at the man, she found him smirking at her. Lifting an eyebrow curiously, Vivien followed his gaze to where Lela stood with a suitcase as he asked, “Forgetting something?”

Sighing, Vivien jogged back to Lela, thanking her with a hug as Miles led his brothers out of the house. Dragging her suitcase behind her, Vivien wrapped Mick in an embrace next, thanking her once more in a whisper. Running her hand up and down the younger brunette’s back, Mick grinned, “Anytime.” 

As they separated, Mack stepped up and said, “Next week, the boys will be back to school and Brady and I will be going back to California. The choice is yours whether or not you want to stay at their house or come stay here in the spare room, but you should probably talk it over with Miles and the boys before Monday.”

Vivien nodded, glancing toward the door as Miles told Bentley to stop chasing Carrie around the driveway with a worm he plucked from the bushes while Royce laughed. Turning back to her neighbor and friend, Vivien smiled, “I think I can handle that.”

“Good,” Brady spoke up. Patting his pseudo-daughter on the shoulder, he grinned, “Have fun, alright?”

“I will,” Vivien said, tucking herself into the couple’s open arms and squeezing them close before heading back to the doorway Butchy leaned against. She examined him for a moment, taking in his laid-back expression and his knowing smirk before asking, “You knew I was coming, didn’t you?”

Lifting a brow, Butchy asked, “What gave you that idea?”

“You weren’t surprised to see me, but Lela was,” Vivien claimed. “That means that either Mickie told you or you just seem to know things, which would mean I have to go all super spy mode while I’m around you.”

Leaning closer to the girl, Butchy lowered his voice and grinned as he said, “Mick’s great with secrets, but I think we both know that she’s pretty shit at keeping her excitement for surprises under wraps.”

Vivien snickered, a knowing nod following soon after. However, as she took in his words once again, she gasped dramatically, pointing up at him with wide, sparkling eyes, “You swore!”

Butchy rolled his eyes and placed his hands on his hips, “I have been known to, yeah.”

“But the swear jar-”

“Has been decommissioned until you go home,” Butchy interrupted. When Vivien’s accusatory gaze begged him to explain his decision, he simply shrugged, brushing off the matter with ease. “You’re on vacation, piccola - I’d rather you didn’t go broke just because you swear like a drunken sailor.”

Vivien’s expression shifted, a knowing smile taking over her face as she patted his arm, “Whatever you say, big guy.”

Sighing in some form of admittance - at least, that’s how it sounded to Vivien - Butchy shook his head and tugged the younger girl into a hug, smiling as her snake-like arms wound around him in a tight squeeze. “Have fun with the guys.”

“And Carrie,” Vivien tried, a part of her still hoping to mend the blonde’s relationships with both Butchy and Royce during her stay despite the reluctance from all parties.

“Yeah, sure,” Butchy scoffed as Vivien took a step back. Cocking his head in a sort of shrug, he chuckled, “Well, I’m sure you’ll have fun with that empty-headed plaything; the boys aren’t exactly the Barbie-doll type.”

“You’re such a dick,” Vivien retorted, thumping her fist against his chest as she took her suitcase by the handle once more.

“To her, absolutely.”

“That’s not a good thing.”

“Is to me.”

Vivien rolled her eyes and nudged her glasses further up her nose before scoffing and allowing the subject to drop. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, right?”

“Maybe after you’re done with your girl’s day,” Mick said with a nod.

“Aren’t you joining us?” Vivien asked.

With a shake of her head and a smile, Mick admitted, “Butchy and I have to help some friends move into their new place tomorrow, but I’m sure you’ll have a blast.”

Although the thought of not having Mick there as a buffer between herself and the other girls made her nervous, Vivien masked her worries with a smile and a nod, and gave the group a final wave before leaving the house, jogging down the front steps and joining the others at the end of the driveway. Miles looked up from his conversation with Royce and smiled, “You ready, kid?”

Nodding more for herself than for Miles, Vivien smiled, “As I’ll ever be. Did you guys call a taxi or something to bring us to your place?”

“No,” Miles chuckled with a shake of his head, gently tugging the girl’s suitcase from her hand and pulling it behind him as he began leading the way down the street. “We can walk from here to our house. It’ll take us maybe five minutes.”

“Seriously?” Vivien asked as Bentley took up the hand Miles emptied and began swinging it between them as they walked down Bay Street. “I know you guys said you could ride your bikes everywhere, but I didn’t know you could get where you needed to go so quickly.”

“It must be odd to you,” Carrie offered the younger girl as she fell into step on Miles free side. “I remember when I came to your world that everything in New Hampshire was really spread out. It made everything feel so small.”

Before Royce could butt in with a snappy comment, Vivien hummed, “Yeah, well, most of New England is like that, I think. The area used to be a lot of big farming areas and stuff in colonial times, so when things progressed, the plots of land didn’t, and there are a ton of places where you have to walk a country mile to get to your neighbor’s house.”

“It’s definitely not like that here,” Royce chuckled as Bentley took his hand and began swinging their joined arms between them in time with the other hand the blond had captured along the way to their home. “There may not be a lot of sidewalks on back streets, but in cities and communities like ours, it’s easier to walk places.”

Vivien smiled, “That’ll take some getting used to.”

Bentley grinned, “Nah, you’ll be a city girl before you know it.”

Although Vivien agreed with a nod, allowing the boys to carry the conversation as she let her mind wander. Though she could definitely get used to spending her days lounging on the beach with the boys or shopping with her friends for clothes that would only cost her a fraction of what they would back home, would she truly be able to adjust to wandering a city without a care in the world? In a way, she supposed, there would be pros and cons as there would be anywhere, but safety was something she doubted she had the need to worry about. With them living in a sort of movie universe, Vivien doubted there would be much crime, if any existed in their world at all - a welcome difference from her world. 

Maybe staying In St. Pete Beach would be like the stories her grandparents had told her from their childhood - homes being left unlocked all day and night regardless of whether or not anyone was home and kids roaming the neighborhood until the street lights came on. Basically, things that would give her parents a literal heart attack if they knew where - or when - she really was. Would it really be so hard to adjust? Maybe it wouldn’t be half as hard as she was making it out to be. Regardless, as she listened to Bentley ramble about much he loved Florida more than their old hometown in South Carolina, Vivien came to the conclusion that she would try her hardest to feel at home in the small city.

As they turned right off of 64th Avenue and onto Gulf Winds Drive, Vivien found sandy, crack-riddled, cement driveways becoming more and more common than the clean-cut, brick driveways on the street Mick, Butchy, and Lela lived on. The larger, waterfront homes that lined the Boca Ciega Bay became nonexistent - replaced by a handful of one-floor, mid-century-style homes with cheerfully colored exteriors and neatly-kept gardens filled with palm trees, cacti, and other succulents. With a gentle tug on her sleeve and a somewhat apologetic smile, Royce led Vivien toward a pale turquoise house with a matching, topless Mustang parked out front, encouraging her to step over the edge of the driveway that the cement company hadn’t completely flattened out before allowing her to stop as she examined their home in full.

For a while now, Vivien had only seen glimpses of the building in pictures. She had practically memorized the peeled spot in the living room wallpaper from the background of where Bentley had opened his birthday presents the month before, the terracotta tiles of the back patio where everyone seemed to congregate on the weekends for cookouts, and the chipped, peeling paint of the front door that the trio of brothers had taken pictures in front of not long after Royce and Bentley had moved in with Miles. Now that she had their home in front of her and she was able to take in all of its haphazard glory, the idea of piecing together the rest of the puzzle pieces and seeing the rest of the house filled her with a sort of childlike wonder she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Nervously clearing his throat as his girlfriend stared at their house in silence, Royce admitted, “I know it’s nothing big or exciting like what you’re used to - and we’re still working on fixing up the walls and stuff - but it’s home.”

Vivien was quick to shake her head, wrapping her arm around Royce’s and squeezing it as she asked, “What are you talking about? I love it already.”

“Y-You do?” Royce asked in a breath.

“Yeah,” Vivien beamed. “I’ve only ever seen pictures of your house, so I’ve been looking forward to exploring it for months now.”

As Royce struggled to find something to say in response, Miles nudged Vivien and said, “If you’re that excited, the spare key is above the door frame. You can use it while you’re here.”

“Aren’t you guys coming inside?” Vivien asked, her eyebrow lifting in mild concern.

Miles nodded, smiling reassuringly at the younger brunette, “Carrie and I are just saying goodbye for the night. I’ll be in after she heads out.”

“I’ll pick you up around nine, if that’s alright?” Carrie offered as she tugged her car keys from her purse. “The mall opens at nine thirty, so that gives us plenty of time to pick Lela up and stop for coffee on the way.”

“Sounds good,” Vivien agreed with a smile.

“Good,” Miles grinned. “Now, go. I’m sure you’re dying to check out the dumpster fire that is our house.”

Carrie lightly smacked his chest with the back of her hand, scoffing that it wasn’t a dumpster fire now that they had started fixing everything up, but the comment went mostly ignored as the teenagers began making their way up the driveway. Although Vivien’s excitement was obvious and understandable as she began pulling Royce toward the door, Bentley jogged across the sandy grass to the door, his hand-painted key already glistening in the light as he tugged its chain over his head and slipped the key into the handle of the door. Stepping to the side as Royce took the key down from above the door frame and handed it to his girlfriend, Bentley pushed the door open and gestured for Vivien to enter first, “Ladies first.”

However, before she could take a step inside, Miles called out to Vivien from near Carrie’s Mustang, “Make sure the cat doesn’t get out!”

Vivien glanced back at Miles and nodded, but almost as though he had been summoned, a sleek black cat with golden eyes that shimmered in the sunlight trotted up to the door, sitting at the threshold as it observed the visitor before him with silent scrutiny. Without giving Vivien the chance to introduce herself to the cat, Bentley leaned down and scooped him up, cradling the onyx feline to his chest as he asked, “Did you come out to meet Vivien, Binx?”

Eyeing the girl, the cat’s golden eyes slid closed in a slow blink before peeling back open as he meowed softly. Reaching up a hand, Vivien allowed the cat to sniff her fingers with a grin, her smile growing as the cat’s head nuzzled into her hand, giving her permission to pet him. As Royce let out a breath of a chuckle, Vivien turned to him and said, “I think he likes me.”

Royce nodded, unable to wipe the smile from his face as he agreed, “I knew he would.”

Wriggling in Bentley’s grasp, the cat stretched out toward Vivien, forcing the girl to hold him as he climbed toward her shoulder and perched himself there. Smiling at the cat as his purrs filled her ear, Vivien chuckled, “He really is part parrot.”

“Told you,” Bentley grinned.

As the cat sprawled out, curling around the back of Vivien’s neck and resting his head on her left shoulder, she pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Watching his girlfriend as she nuzzled the top of the cat’s head and scratched between his ears, Royce smiled and spared a glance at the chaos they had left in the house that morning when they were rushing out the door. Miles was right; it was a dumpster fire. Although Royce was certain Vivien wouldn’t care that much about the art supplies littering the counters or the cat toys strewn across the floor, the urge to clean while she was distracted with the cat was strong. However, his time ran out as Vivien turned toward the door, stepping across the threshold and allowing the cat to jump onto the table by the door where Miles always ditched his keys. 

As she began looking around, drinking in the details of the house with a smile, Royce stepped up beside her and said, “If we had known you were coming, we would’ve cleaned before we left this morning.”

“No, we wouldn’t have,” Bentley retorted with a snort as he stepped into the house and closed the door. “Miles woke up late because his alarm clock is a piece of junk, Jules picked you up early for work, and I was half-asleep still since you weren’t there to keep me or Miles awake.”

Reaching behind Vivien to half-heartedly slap the back of Bentley’s head, Royce sent him a look that begged for him to shut up as Vivien laughed, “I don't care how clean your home is. It’s your home and it should look lived in, not like some house on Trulia that’s been staged to look good.”

“Well, that’s good,” Bentley said with a grin, pointedly giving Royce an ‘I told you so’ look before taking Vivien’s arm and dragging her into the kitchen, exclaiming something about having to show her the progress report card he had been sent home from school with on Friday.

Royce let out a sigh and turned his attention to Binx as the cat head-butted his arm, asking for attention. “I’m glad you like her, Binx,” he whispered as he picked up the cat, the feline’s golden eyes somewhat calming as Royce took in a breath. “Knowing her, you’ll be spoiled rotten by the time she has to go home.”

The cat’s soft meow encouraged Royce to smile as the front door opened behind him, allowing Miles to step inside as the roaring engine of Carrie’s Mustang faded outside. Petting the cat as he set Vivien’s suitcase by the wall, Miles greeted him before turning his attention to Royce, “Where did they go?”

“Kitchen,” Royce replied with a shrug. Glancing at the door, he asked, “Where did she run off to?”

Brushing off his brother’s snipped tone, Miles answered, “She’s going home to make up a list of everything she thinks Viv might want.”

Royce scoffed, rolling his eyes at the thought, “How could she possibly know what Viv wants?”

“Royce,” Miles sighed softly as he put his hands on his hips, “can we not do this while Vivien’s here? You know she likes Carrie.”

“I don’t see how she can,” Royce commented with a shake of his head. “But seriously, Carrie hardly knows Viv; what gives her the idea that she can make up a list for her without talking it over with her first?”

“All I know is that she’s calling Lela and Mick for ideas,” Miles admitted with a shrug. “Knowing them, they’ll be on the phone all night.”

Running his hand down Binx’s side, Royce refrained from rolling his eyes as he relented, “That’s good. At least they’d take Viv’s interests into account.”

Curious yet cautious as he knew how deep Royce’s distaste for Carrie went, Miles asked, “What do you mean?”

“Well, Viv and Carrie are total opposites,” Royce stated as though his brother should have known that a long time ago. “The chances of Vivien liking anything Carrie picks out for her are slim to none.”

Hoping he didn’t appear nearly as happy to correct his younger brother as he felt, Miles grinned as he said, “Actually, Carrie was telling me that Vivien’s borrowed clothes from her a couple of times since they went to that show together; something about Mick being their delivery person.”

Though he didn’t want to believe his brother’s claim - or Carrie’s, for that matter - Royce sighed and chose to drop the subject, determined not to let his distaste for Carrie get in the way of him enjoying having his girlfriend around. Instead, he allowed Miles to bring an arm around his shoulders and guide him to the kitchen where Vivien was looking over a piece of paper. Bentley shifted a few magnets around on the fridge, nudging one from Miles’ work and one with their school’s mascot up to make room for the paper once Vivien was done with it.

As he caught sight of Vivien’s smile, Miles asked, “We’ve got a real genius on our hands, right, kid?”

Vivien nodded, glancing up from the paper briefly to tease the eldest of the brothers, “What does that make it, then; two out of three? That’s pretty good odds, all things considered.”

“Look here, you little shit,” Miles said, his grin still strong as he pointed at the brunette, “I happened to get good grades when I was in school.”

Waving Bentley’s progress report in the air, Vivien pointed at the teacher’s remarks and taunted, “I bet you weren’t this good, though. I mean, come on, Miles! How could you - of all people - possibly beat ‘has an inquisitive and engaged mind’?”

Miles shook his head, his smile beaming as Bentley’s face turned a soft pink at the praise from his friend, and the youngest of the family said, “It’s not that great. I’ve only got one A so far this year.”

“That’s because the American grading system is a pile of hot garbage,” Vivien scoffed, shoving the boy’s shoulder. “Besides, it’s still better than last time, if this is anything to go by. Last time, you had no A’s at all.”

“My art teacher liked me,” Bentley shrugged, hoping to brush off the praise. “This last trimester, I have French, and I just know it’s going to suck.”

“We can work on that,” Royce chimed in as Binx crawled out of his arms and perched himself on one of the kitchen counters. “Miles has been trying to teach me some more lately, so that won’t be a problem.”

Miles hummed, “And English should also be a breeze since Royce had Cushing last year too.”

“And I’m good with math and history, so those are covered,” Vivien added with a smile. Glancing down at the paper in her hands, she tried not to wince at the glaring D in the slot for Bentley’s science class as she said, “All we need to work on after that is science since everything else has a pretty good mark.”

“Science will be a bust,” Bentley huffed as he leaned against the fridge. “I think Mrs. Purington has it out for me.”

“She doesn’t have it out for you,” Royce claimed with a chuckle. “You just hate science.”

“I mean, yeah,” Bentley relented. “It makes no sense! The stuff she teaches doesn’t even come up on our tests, and half the class can’t stand her because of it. Most of our final grades this year will come from the science fair, and nobody knows what to do for it.”

As Miles hummed thoughtfully, a lightbulb flickered on in Vivien’s mind, snapping to life with a jolt as she thumped a fist on the counter and hissed, “Motherfucker!”

The three brothers and their cat jumped, watching as Vivien let out a frustrated sigh. Tentatively, Royce placed a hand on her shoulder and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just-” she let out a heavy sigh, “I just realized that I left all the stuff for my battle bot project at home. I was going to ask Mickie to work on it with me while I’m here, and I figured Ben could borrow it, but without the motors, the radio control system, and some of the stuff I literally picked up yesterday at school, it’s useless.”

“That’s alright,” Miles reassured as Bentley stepped up and graciously wrapped an arm around Vivien’s back. “We’ll find something to do for his project - and maybe help you with the rest of yours too… if we can find anything for whatever it is.”

Though Vivien looked ready to explain her project, Bentley piped up, “Besides, the science fair isn’t until the middle of next month.”

Vivien grinned at the boy as Royce asked, “The Friday before prom, right?”

Bentley nodded, but it was Vivien’s gaze that locked on the curly-haired boy almost instantly. “Prom?” Vivien asked, earning a nod from her boyfriend. “You have prom in May? My school’s prom isn’t until the beginning of June!”

Though Royce was pleased to know that he would be able to attend Vivien’s prom - if she was willing to have him by her side in front of her entire grade, that is - the thought of her potentially still being in the area for his prom sent a hurricane of rabid butterflies through his stomach as he turned to Miles, a silent question on his lips as he grinned curiously at his older brother. With a smirk and a subtle roll of his eyes, Miles suggested, “Maybe, if you’re still here, you can go to Royce’s prom.”

Though Vivien’s eyes sparkled at the idea of attending another prom, she grinned and shrugged, “Well, he’d have to ask me to go with him first, but I’m sure I could find a place in my schedule for it.”

Royce’s smile widened as Vivien’s eyes met his, a surge of emotions flooding his veins as she smiled back at him. Maybe Miles was right - he was wrapped around her finger like one of her rings. He would drop anything to be with her so long as she would have him. Then, Bentley’s voice cut through their moment like a dagger, “You just got here, Viv. How do you have a schedule already?”

Wrapping an arm around Bentley’s shoulders, Miles chuckled and ushered him out of the room, “Come on, Benny, let’s get to cleaning Viv’s room.”

“But what about her schedule?” Bentley wondered as Binx hopped down from the counter and began following them. “How are we going to take her places if she has a schedule already?”

“She was joking,” Miles chuckled, tugging Bentley into the hall to leave the young couple alone. 

“Oh,” Bentley breathed, a wave of understanding washing over his features as he turned back to Vivien, who nodded in confirmation. Beaming back at his brother’s girlfriend, Bentley wiggled his eyebrows at the pair and whistled comically before Miles slapped a hand over his mouth and pulled him away.

As his brothers left the room, Royce closed his eyes, turned to Vivien, and sighed, “I’m sorry about them.”

“Don’t be,” Vivien giggled, tucking Bentley’s report card back under a set of magnets on the refrigerator and turning toward Royce with a smile. “I’m used to their shenanigans by now.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a good thing,” Royce breathed as Vivien stepped into his personal space and draped her arms around his shoulders. “They can get a bit wild.”

Vivien snorted, “What, like I can’t?”

“Touché,” Royce grinned, bringing his arms around Vivien’s back. Smiling as he breathed in the scent of her perfume - a light, fruity combination of pomegranates, strawberries, and apple juice that was so distinctly Vivien that it had his attention in an instant - Royce swallowed his apprehension and asked, “Are you thinking of staying here for my prom?”

“If you’ll have me,” Vivien agreed with a nod. After a brief moment of silence, she met his gaze and asked, “Is this your way of asking me to go to prom with you?”

Royce grinned, but shook his head, “Not yet; I want it to be special.”

Grinning so hard her cheeks began to burn, she teased, “So, me flying across the country and entering another world for you isn’t special enough?”

“You know what I mean,” Royce chuckled, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the ends of Vivien’s hair as his thumbs rubbed circles on her spine. “As special as all of this day has been, I want to do one of those prom-posal things that are popular in your world. I don’t want to look back at this moment when we’re all old and wrinkly, and regret that I hadn’t been some knight in shining armor for you; riding up to you on a horse and asking you to prom like it was some fantasy ball.”

Smiling as his words came to life in her mind, images of him in blinding silver armor, riding up to her on a Clydesdale with a single question on his mind flooding her overactive imagination, she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. “A knight in shining armor, huh?” she asked softly, running her fingers through his curls as she hummed thoughtfully. “I could see that.”

“You could?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, twirling a single curl around her index finger and allowing it to bounce back into place. “But, what I’m more interested in is the fact that you see the two of us growing old together.”

Freezing as his prior statement surged back to the front of his mind, Royce softly asked, “Can… Do you think we won’t?”

“I want us to - believe me, I do,” Vivien stated calmly, “but I guess I always sort of worry about the future. As much as I want a fairytale love like my grandparents’, my only other relationship crashed and burned so suddenly it made my head spin, and my parents’ relationship isn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.”

Royce hummed thoughtfully. Vivien had told him enough about her parents and their on-again-off-again relationship for him to know that their relationship wasn’t something worth aspiring for. With a small smile, he said, “Well, if it means anything, I have every intention of staying by your side until you tell me you no longer want me to.”

“That won’t happen,” Vivien said with a firm shake of her head.

“In that case,” Royce began with a small smile, “we’ll have that happily ever after someday.”

“You think so?”

Royce’s curls bounced as he nodded, “I know so.”

Though her fond smile was evident, Vivien couldn’t resist teasing her boyfriend as she smirked, “That was so damn cheesy.”

“You love it,” Royce chuckled, smiling as his gaze flickered between Vivien’s eyes.

“I love-” Vivien’s brain froze as she coughed to clear her throat, her mind struggling to reboot itself as she realized how close she had come to telling Royce she loved him. Pretending to have gotten a hair in her mouth, Vivien wiped at the corners of her lips and made a face before deciding how to respond to Royce’s jest. “I-I’ll always love your way with words, but that doesn’t make it any less cheesy.”

“Are you okay?” Royce asked, taking a step back as Vivien dragged her nails across her bottom lip.

Nodding eagerly in the hopes that Royce hadn’t taken notice of her near-confession, she smiled and breathed, “Yeah, I think I just had some cat hair in my mouth, that’s all.”

Glancing toward the hall Binx had followed his brothers into as he grabbed a bottle of water from the floor by the refrigerator and handed it to Vivien, Royce chuckled, “That happens a lot with Binx. I think he sheds enough to make a whole other cat out of his fur.”

Glad to have moved on from her moment of adoration-fueled dipshittery with relative ease, Vivien smiled and opened the bottle after thanking her boyfriend, “Where is Binx, anyway?”

“He’s a nosy little guy, so he’s probably bugging my brothers while they clean,” Royce shrugged, watching Vivien take in a gulp of water. Holding a hand out to her, he offered, “Want to help me look for him?”

“Sure,” she replied as she capped her new drink. Smiling, she reached out for his hand, her fingertips just barely grazing his as an electrifying jolt ran up her arm toward her chest, forcing her to reel her hand back with a gasp. Royce was quick to follow suit, a noise of surprise leaving him as he jumped, his hand flinching toward his chest as aftershocks fizzled up and down his arm. Laughing as Royce shook his hand to rid himself of the electric tingles, she wiggled her fingers and gasped, “You shocked me!”

“No,” Royce argued lightly with a smile, “you shocked me!”

“Bullshit!” she laughed, shaking the electricity from her hand. “I think you were rubbing your shoes on a rug or something, because that hurt.”

“I could say the same,” Royce taunted as Vivien stuck her tongue out at him in retaliation, which he quickly reciprocated.

Brushing off the zap and their playful banter with a fond giggle, Vivien took Royce’s hand and laced her fingers with his as the static-like tingles pulsed under her skin, “Lead the way, static boy.” Though Royce looked ready to continue their mock-argument and declare, once again, that it wasn’t him who had shocked her, but the other way around, he took in her victorious smile and resigned with a humored shake of his head before guiding Vivien out of the room. Watching with a fond smile as Royce showed her the rest of the house, Vivien’s mind flitted back to her almost confession and she began to wonder why it had come with such ease? 

They hadn’t even been dating for four months; how had she been so ready to tell him she loved him? She had dated Lexi for a lot longer and never once felt ready to tell her that. What was different with Royce? Well, actually, Vivien knew a lot of things that were different between the two. Really, there was no comparison. Royce was - in one way or another - a lot of things to her that Lexi never was. Despite their - quite literal - time difference, they never once had any issues with communication, and they had both been quite open with each other about what was going on in their lives, even before Vivien knew about his actual home. 

Royce stepped aside as he guided her into the bedroom she would be staying in, allowing her to get a look at where she would be staying for the foreseeable future. Vivien smiled at him as she realized that she now had a lot more questions to ponder than she ever thought she would have while on her little stay-cation. With her luck, she would be up all night, staring at the ceiling in the dark as her thoughts wandered to her relationship with Royce. Letting out a soft sigh as she examined the room before her, Vivien grinned. So long as her thoughts were full of Royce, she really didn’t care if they kept her up all night.

[saltyr3mix]

wiatt nicholson head canons plz

ok. Wiatt is very similar to Damien to me. In the sense of oh boy, I hate writing this character so much. It's a quartet of Damien, Norman, lewis and Wiatt. Hate all of them/j they each have their ups and downs. Mainly downs but like- Lewis is by far the easiest of the group but still so far behind the others in terms of effort to write. Especially when paired with Wiatt. TGE ONLY TIME IVE EVER WRITTEN WIGHLIGHT AND WAS SATISFIED WITH IT WAS THAT ONE LIKE 10 LINE SCENE IN FEBRUARY 4TH WHERE THEY APOLOGIZE TO EACH OTHER. IT IS MY GREATEST FLAW. I CANT WRITE WILIGHT AND IT HAUNTS ME-

but this isn't about them! Just Wiatt! So let's get started on it!

To learn from the tragedies: he's do stressed. Let's this guy be. He just wants to help his boyfriend but also doesn't have a clue what's going on. He thinks he knows everything. He doesnt. At all. He's sort of the main focus of book one but is a lot more background in book 2, which focuses more on Sara. Both of them are technically going through the same thing but because Sara was the villain is treated a lot differently. I sometimes think about what would have happened if lewis hadn't explained things to Waitt. And instead he and Sara teamed up to get answers and everything would have been fine. But no, lewis is far too dramatic for that.

Shattered dreams: he dies. womp womp. Does become Guide! (Gaslight. Useless. Idiot. Dead. Employee) But I think I'll talk about him more in the Oc au because I think despite it being nearly the same situation he's more interesting there.

One shots/you'll live until I die: I thinkkkkk her appears like once in yluid and it's like- the least relevant scene in the fic i was just trying to even out the perspectives. But in that and other one shots he's sort of just a mechanic. Almost never more apparent than that. Try to keep it close to cannon, he likes helping people but tends to mess it up a lot but never enough to be fully blamed for it.

I will make them create my world: don't. Don't talk me. I- I'll figure it out! (Has over 10k of scrapped shit THAT US JUST HIM. The reason there hasn't been a new chapter since February is Because of that man and how hard he is to write and plan)

Buried masks: I think I've made a few post on him but he stays outside the basement because Sara doesn't like him. He helps Damien with his investigation and is highly suspicious of Sara. Eventually he does get more involved for a big event! But that is major spoilers :3

Swap au/skating in silence: he plays Norman here! Which I find very interesting. Not interesting enough to have concrete ideas for it but enough that if given the chance i could see myself exploring. Wiatts like main thing is he feels worth through helping others. And by directly helping Lewis he'd really enjoy the job. If lewis was different from Sara and still have him praise and carted about him it would honestly create a more toxic relationship than canon because Wiatt would be left clinging for Lewis's validation and willing to go very, very far for it.

Superhero au: he's chill. Doesn't have any powers. Is a reporter and a hero stan. Untilllll things start happening and lewis is sobbing in his apartment because he's having to deal with some very traumatized kids, and half their trauma may have accidentally been his fault and he knows the heros are all a massive lie and starts giving wiatt info about some of the more horrible things the organization has done and wiatt starts a character arc of now speaking against the hero system and trying to in mask it for what it is! Mostly he just appears in the background, he's sort of the symbol of the general public, being powerless and living a mostly normal life.

Steven universe au: he lives in his car as a photographer. He enjoys life and specifically lifes mysteries and the unnatural. He fines this fenced of beach that has been rumered to be haunted after a man died mysteriously several years ago. Wiatt never followed the rules and climbs over because the view from that clean of a beach must be stunning!

And bam! Rock Aliens. They all scare each other but wiatt has a camera and the aliens don't know what that is and they think it's a weapon. They explain they didn't mean to bother and humans and Wiatts like oh wait their really sweet. And he's friends with them now!!! He gives everyone their more human names and let's them experience life. So far he's the only human that doesn't get experimented on so that's good for him. He is a little overwhelmed by dating a space dictator that fake killed himself but it's ok, he'll figure it out.

Maze au: he's human. Don't know how he got in the maze. I can imagine him playing a role similar to Kyle in the sense of like, he's here to help and try his best not to get into anything but is not going to sit around. He's probably a runner. Not a very good one. Maybe he stays in the back and makes maps. He and Oliver team up to make most of the clearings.... Everything. They make weapons and tools and supplies and help build housing and food they are the progressives. They make sure the clearing is constantly improving.

Oc au: he dies! Not to litho though cause we accidentally took him out. Instead he dies to jot! In a....messy scene. Both because there was a lot of blood and two it was written late at night and neither of us really knew where we wanted it to go only that wiatt needed to be dead by the end of it. So mans got straight up beat. Joy crushed this dude with her bare hands. The virus actually took out two....well killed two people by technicality it knock loli out for a good while but she's fine now! Yeah, we made it slightly more deadly just for fun. And now Wiatt is a tour guide with amnesia! He loves the company and works mostly in the lobby with Dot. Star also had his memories erased in this au.

Instead the whole what about love speech, was joy about carly. Which Winnie being already connected to Carly made it a lot easier and so roller gays are doing fantastic and wighlight is struggling.

We have yet for star and guide to interact but I'm looking for to when they do!

that should be ittttttt. He plays a background character in most of the aus. So not a ton to say.

Thank you for the ask!!

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Yesterday I saw a post that basically said that Avatar wasn’t a feminist show that has a bias towards Zuko and that no female villains get redeemed(?!?) 

And said that the show oversexualises Azula which like WHAT

This is not a Cuties situation the camera never accentuates cleavage or anything, if you just saw Azula showing more skin in the beach episode (because she’s at the fucking beach) and then immediately thought about sex that sounds like a you problem.

People really gotta learn what words mean - and that no show from nearly TWENTY YEARS AGO is gonna present social issues the same way modern series would. Avatar has two whole episodes in which the whole lesson is "Sexism is bad, don't mistreat women", and a ton of the female characters are absolutely badass and incredibly well-written. One or two questionable moments is not enough to make claim it is misogynistic.

A female villain not getting redeemed while a male character does is only sexist if her gender is presented as the reason why she can't be redeemed, or if they did all the same things but her actions are presented as worse - and while the ATLA fandom is often guilty of that last one (not always because of sexism, but also because of ableism), that doesn't mean the writting of the SHOW was sexist.

I say this as someone who loves Azula's character and wants a redemption arc for her: the show's ending is a tragic, but logical one. Not everyone changes. Not everyone wants to change, or even gets the chance to. It's sad, but it makes sense and there's nothing offensive about the finale (unlike the way Azula was treated in the comics, but once again the root of the problem there was "the mentally ill are inherently evil/beyond help so anything and everything done to them is justifiable").

"The show oversexualizes her" That one is bit more complex - but not THAT much.

Avatar is a show with lots of fanservice (see Zuko taking off his shirt causing birds to fly and fangirls to appear behind him squeeling), but all of it is stuff that was ALWAYS presented in a way that was 100% appropriate for children. More importantly, the show never tried to use the fanservice to compensate for poor writting or to make Azula an evil seductress (a trope that is not inherently sexist, but can become so if the writer isn't careful with it). Making Azula gorgeous in a scene, or letting Grey Delisle have some fun like the did during the confrontation Zuko and Azula had in The Awakening, is not the same as them reducing Azula from character to sex-object.

Once again, the fandom is far more guilty of the "Attractive means sexual and sex is evil" mentality than the show ever was. I lost count of how many people "theorize" that Azula is a "slut" who slept her way to the top and has even raped people (usually Zuko and Suki) even though the show made it clear she can't flirt to save her life, is so respected/feared because she's a great fighter/manipulator, and has literally never forced herself onto her brother and was obviously lying when implying she had done something Suki because THE SHOW ITSELF told us everything she was telling the Gaang on that scene was just an attempt to buy her father more time until the eclipse was over.

Some of the fans treat her as the typical "evil femme fatale that you can tell is evil because she sleeps around", but the show itself never did that.

Also a lot of what I sometimes see fans claim is "sexualization" is just mundane stuff. I lost count of how many times people were losing their shit because "WHY IS A FOURTEEN YEAR GIRL ALWAYS WEARING MAKE UP?"

Maybe because said fourteen year old is a perfectionist that can't even stand to have one hair out of place, so obviously she'd want her face looking perfect too? Or maybe she wants to look older not to "seduce" anyone but because she'd rather not risk not being taken seriously for being so young? And, crazy thought but bear with me here, maybe, just maybe... Azula likes make-up. Revolutionary concept, I know.

And it's not like the show ever got weird about it like the comics (seriously, girl is hallucinating in a straight-jacket and her hair is all messed up, but SOMEHOW she put on lipstic/the doctors did it for her????). She had a clean face when she was sleeping and when she was at the royal spa getting her hair done, and even at Chan's party her make-up is exactly the same she wears during the day. The "weirdest" place she wore it at was at the beach, and again considering it's Azula, who always wants to look perfect, I can see it.

Seriously guys, there's a difference between "TikTok is constantly telling women, teen girls and children they need to buy 37 different products that they gotta put on before anyone can *gasp* see their face" and "This cartoon had one of the characters constantly wearing make-up because that's a thing teenagers do sometimes + it helps the character be more memorable"