#and also because I kinda wanna go to another gig with a friend but that’s on a MONDAY

[kirsctein]

x

[tenchikotheartist]

Frick it, we ball

KISMET HEADCANNONS for some future fan stuff I wanna make... Goes with this post kinda

Under a cut because it's LONG (the fixation has been REAL)

Gen

They band was formed shortly after the events of Trolls 1. It's the only way they make sense in my mind's timeline.

Branch was trying to get more involved with Troll village without relying on Poppy to connect him with people. He formed his own group of friends, and they became Kismet after realizing how much they enjoyed harmonizing/performing together.

These guys give me frat boy energy for some reason. They just collectively become more chaotic when they're around each other. Yes, even Branch. He and Hype play hot potato with the braincell because otherwise, nothing would get done in this group.

As they got to know one another, teasing one another became their primary love language. Lots of jabs and quips will fly among them when they're together, but they each know it's all in good fun.

Branch

Branch kept his involvement in the band a secret because, well...y'know. He has complicated history with being in a boyband, so he wanted to explore his feelings about Kismet without being bombarded with input from people outside the group.

He's fond of his friends and genuinely enjoys being a part of the band though! He just wants to be sure he's a part of this boy band because he's happy being with them and not because he's trying to recapture something he'd lost 20 years ago.

At first, the others were (understandably) hurt by Branch's desire to keep his place in the band a secret, but after he explained his reasons, they were willing to support him.

They were absolutely thrilled when he finally becomes open about the band though!

During the secrecy period, when he performs in Pop Village, he hides his identity behind a disguise that somehow works (Branch, every time it works: "wtf????"), and he goes by a stage name.

Hype

Officially the group leader, but he's more of a mediator than anything. He relies on the rest of the group to give their input for any big band decisions, but he coordinates band meetings, schedules gigs, and works out compromises if there's any group conflicts.

He and Branch had been childhood friends before The Incident(s) estranged them. Back in the Troll Tree, they'd been neighbors whose parents (Branch's grandma; Hype's mom) set up on frequent playdates, so they'd been really close.

They reconnected after the events of movie 1, Hype introduced Branch to Trickee and later Boom. Trickee brought in Ablaze and the rest was history.

Hype is a social butterly but he's otherwise one of the more calm personalities in the group. He feeds off of other people's energy and is a bit of a people-pleaser. Luckily, he's pretty good at finding the right crowd to run with, otherwise he'd probably land in so much trouble.

Boom

Hype's cousin, and a big party person! Before the band took off, he DJ'd at a party venue in Pop Village. That same place was also where Kismet got their first gig!

He loves loud music and flashy parties where he can shine on the dance floor and make memories people he may only know for a night.

Peak ADHD Energy™. He's a chatterbox. He has no volume control. He tunnel visions so hard, he becomes that B99 headphones meme. The man has cool guy syndrome, no doubt about it!

For the creation of the Band earliest albums, Boom took charge as the producer. He loves messing with music, mixing and remixing sounds on his free time and experimenting with the genre.

Trickee

A thrill-seeking menace to society. He's adventurous and loves taking huge risks for the adrenaline rush. He's the type of guy who would go down a waterfall in a barrel or ski down a dangerous mountain just to see if he survives it.

Everyone in the band is in agreement about protecting Trickee from his own shenanigans. They are 70% of his self-preservation senses.

He also loves a party scene and can often be found with Boom leading the charge towards any good time.

You know that sense of dread before performing in front of a crowd? The way your belly flips and your heart races and you're sure you're shaking hard enough for everyone to see? Trickee lives for that shit when he's in the band. The jitters can get to him, for sure, but afterwards, the man is LIVING from coming out alive on the other side, and he's sharing that thrill with everyone else in the band!

Ablaze

A Rock Troll who has lived among the Pop Trolls since he was a teenager. He stumbled across them while looking for a place to belong, and despite what he was raised to believe about Pop Trolls, he came to love their warmth and friendliness. So he moved in and let everyone assume he was just an odd-looking Pop Troll.

He an Trickee are housemates (podmates?)--not for romantic reasons but because they're longtime friends. When Trickee moved out of his family's home, Ablaze invited him over, and they liked the living arrangement enough to keep it permanent.

At first, Ablaze isn't open about his identity as a Rock Troll, but as he grew closer with the other members of Kismet, he came out to them. By the events of Trolls 2, he's open about being a Rock Troll.

Ablaze's personality sits somewhere in the realm of both chaotic and laid back. On the outside, he's usually pretty chill, but if Boom or Trickee have trouble afoot, Ablaze is usually there egging them on in the background, much to Branch's dismay.

He becomes extremely energetic when he's performing. The more exciting the song, the more vibrant he becomes! The energy is one of the reasons he loves pop music so much, but he can also get hyped from performing rock music. He gets kinda intense though lmao.

The first time the rest of Kismet sees him jamming to rock, they're like "OH. He's definitely a rock troll O_O" They support their rock-n-roll brethren 🤟😔

He has a special interest in fire, particularly fireworks. Back in Pop Village, he even made a business of it, making small rockets, sparklers, and other celebratory items for all your Pop party needs.

Anyway that's all the headcannon stuff I'll share for now. Hope y'all liked reading xD I'm really hoping my attention span will stick around long enough for me to share more in the future, because this fixation has been A Time™/pos

[solarpunkani]

Hey! I’ve been following you for a bit and have been recently considering writing my own little solarpunk short stories for here. Do you have any suggestions?

See its funny you'd ask this because I've honestly only written one (I started on another one but lost The Vibe) but I mean

I dunno

Think about what you like about Solarpunk and what kind of setting you're most comfortable with writing. What kind of plots you like most and how you could fit it into a solarpunk setting of your desire. How much you want the story to be affected by the fact that it takes place in a more Solarpunky society.

One of the things I struggle with when it comes to writing Solarpunk stuff is worrying that other people aren't gonna find it 'solarpunk enough,' because I'm more comfortable writing stories in like the earlier days of a Solarpunk society than like a *midst of it all utopia* kinda vibe that I see most other people do. But I'm also not politically knowledgeable enough to write about the, I dunno, proletariat uprising that dismantles the government to make *room* for said solarpunk society. If you have an issue similar to me, then the advice I'm trying to beat into my own head is 'write the story as something i'd wanna read, and if other people like it then that's cool, and if other people don't like it then i dunno fuck em anyways'

If you don't have that problem feel free to ignore that.

I'm not gonna act like writing solarpunk short stories is easy! Because I find it hard! I actually get *frustrated* when other people act like its easy to do specifically *because* low-stakes conflicts are hard for me, but high-stakes political arena stuff goes over my head. I'm used to like. Writing about superheroes fighting supervillains, or medieval peasants gathering the relics of an ancient god before an otherworldly threat takes over. Comparatively, writing about lost dolls and cafe dates and roadtrips is hard for me. So I'd suggest finding something you're really interested in and taking off with it.

And if you're like me, try to do as much of it in one sitting as possible, and if you're gonna stop write notes on what you'd planned next. That was my downfall with the Last Roadtrip story I was working on before.

Regarding ideas? Some of these are at the top of the dome and some of these are ones I'd considered but changed my mind on.

A group of friends who all learn different fiberwork/clothing crafts (sewing, knitting, crocheting, embroidery) so they can have the absolutely most baller outfits for their town's fashion show/big dance/festival/some other event in a few months/next year

Story from the perspective of someone who goes around town maintaining all the different community fridges and talking with the people who use them while they work

A small community starting a community pollinator garden/food garden in honor of... something I dunno

A band getting ready for a gig another town over but like. Solarpunk.

Someone whos finally old enough to go to their town's night market by themselves and their excitement over it/what the market is like

A group of friends takes it upon themselves to clean up a creek they used to play at that, over the years, sort of became a dilapidated dumping site, and keeping track of all the new stuff they see as they work. Like, one person's passionate about plants and guides them on what they should plant and where and how, one person's really good at identifying insects and animals and helps log every new sighting, one person's better with handling like logistics and stuff, etc.

Two guerrilla gardeners accidentally pick the same abandoned lot to strike on the same night. Chaos ensues, but don't get caught!!

A society is quickly transitioning to becoming carless, but one group of teens is siezing the opportunity to take possibly THE LAST true Summer Roadtrip ever. Hijinks ensue.

A community gathering to repair and rebuild a beloved community center after it gets absolutely fucked up somehow (natural disaster, vandalizers, whatever, maybe it got attacked by bears who knows)

Someone trying to figure out how to make some beloved passed down family recipe without having a good chunk of the ingredients due to season-based product selling or transport issues or something

Look if you manage to pull off a superhero story in a solarpunk society I'll definitely read it. Tag me, even.

The rivalry of the ages going down during a 'who can grow the biggest pumpkin/watermelon/whatever' contest. But it's solarpunk. IDK.

You can see how I struggle with this

Don't forget you can also do like 'oh a solarpunk society in the tropics what does that look like' (I had a brief idea on solarpunk pearl harvesting/oyster raising after watching some shorts but lost it basically soon after) or 'a solarpunk society but its wintry and snowy and all that jazz what then' kinda deal. Check out this post I made awhile back.

I also have this post of video game ideas I conjured up, that could be made into short stories instead if you wanted.

If all else fails, you can check out the Solarpunk Aesthetic Week pinterest board and see if anything in there inspires you!

I hope this rambly ass answer was actually helpful in any way, shape, or form. And if it wasn't I'm sorry, smite me where I stand.

[ouppypio]

wooooooooaahh lots of ppl wanted to hear about the au so uh explanation ( also sorry it was late at a party rn)

Magical Girl Au Explanation Thinggy..

Before everyone chose to be a magical girl, they were once all human untill meeting Caine. Caine is some magical being along his buddy Bubble who he made. Caine has good intentions but due to his lack of understanding human emotions, does intentions back fired. He seen how humans have suffered, either by pain,depression,ect. He wanted to help the humans by either turning their lives more fun n stuff. I haven't thought on what he does but the idea was there are the Abstractions and creatures (example like the gloinks) that wreck people's lives but nobody can see them. As they live in this sorta circus themed world thats you can only kinda can get there without magiccccc....n stufffffffff. Caine decided to gather people who were willing to destroy those monsters, again this au is going through construction so I haven't figured out for some parts like why Caines intentions backfired so if yall wanna give out ideas I'd be happy to hear em. Back to what I was saying, Caine manage to get a few members for his group or whatever u wanna call it. Alot on who he gathered got abstracted ( alot of this is inspired by Puella Magi Madoka Magica so alot of it will be similar to that anime) so the previous members are now Abstractions (like previous magical girls turn into witches) All of the members were once human, but apon meeting Caine. Caine came to the conclusion that the human body was just to weak for them to fight so he came with a solution. By using his power, he turned their human body to these magical forms, essential what they are in the digital circus. But these body aren't human at all, they don't have organs or look anywhere near human like that so that strikes another problem. Since they can live in the human world anymore, Caine decided to create a new home for them, The Digital Circus. All of the members were devastated to learn that their lives were taken away and now having to live in some circus well just like the show... they abstracted. I might go for an idea that Caine erases all of their old memory to help with their sadness but again with it backfiring with them going insane n stuff. Again feel free to leave out ideas.

So now we begin with our story starting with Pomni. Pomni or whatever her human name would be (Pammy? Pamantha? Poppy?) She's is a depressed,overworked, and very much hates her job, office worker. Working for a company ( maybe for a game uh again not sure) who desperately wants to change herself, to prove the people around her that she can do something, that she can make a change, to have a purpose. That goal could spark the interest of Caine, so one day appearing in front of her to make a deal. Maybe possibly one of the monsters attack her. Either by accidentally going to the magic world thingy on mistake ( she maybe noticed a weird group of them going to this portal, or by just peer dumb and bad luck...she would have lots of bad luck) Possibly Caine saves her or the group instead. Which ever I go for Caine strikes a deal with her and she goes along with it because of the desperation to be something. And once she actually learns the horror of this new body and new home, she regrets it...as all the others during there first times. Now me meet the group, starting with the oldest

Kinger, the one who's been apart of the group the longest and most wisest. He's somehow been able to stay somewhat same but due to so much time dealing with all the craziness and losing someone dear to him. The magical girl gig has kinda broken him away so especially he's the plan/ smart guy in the group. Telling information for the group for missions and strategies.

Then Ragatha who's the second oldest member. She is essentially the mom friend, who often aids her friends during battles and keeping check of anyone (especially after someone abstracts) She tries to put on a happy face and cheerfully personality to keep her sanity, as it's her way to deal with her forever situation.

Jax is the third, he's the playful and prankster as always. Often teasing and annoying his teammates whenever he has the chance to. Jax often doesn't wait to attack during missions and ignores everyone's warning, unless Caine gets him to sit down and listen. But all of the sass and humor is his way to cope with the situation.

Gangle is the fourth member of the group, she's quite soft spoken and scared. As she still struggles a bit of her situation, and relys on her mask to deal with her emotions. Although she isn't weak, she can find herself to cower over some missions if they get to much. Mostly when she doesn't have her happy mask on, and that mask helps her with confidence. Although her emotions help her boost her strength if in very strong emotions.Her coping is practically relying on her masks to keep her happy,although a certain someone keeps breaking them.

Zooble is the fifth and came not long after Gangle. They are a distant and "idgaf" type of person, often trying to not get close with anyone and to just get over with it. Zooble sorta chills there untill they go to another mission, and their distancing is their way of coping. Not wanting to make connections to people in fear of losing them, just over all wanting to do the missions and nothing else.

The basic plot of it is Pomni and everyone else going to mission while they slowly start to find out more and more about everything to who they are, Caine and his secrets,and the universe itself. Anyways that's what I'm going to leave off, have a sketch of Pomni and Ragatha designs. I do plan on finnish it aswell with everyone's else but im tired and I wanna go to bed. Also credits to @massivemilkshaketale giving me ideas for this au, ily all and gn :33

designssssssss

[badchoicesworld]

hi again, i’m the guy who requested hobie x trans vigilante reader and i LOVED IT. the details felt so true to his character and all in all it was an amazing read. you’re definitely one of, if not my favorite spiderverse writer. (btw, your spidersona sounds very interesting.) so, as expected, i have another request for you!

if you’d like, will you do a hobie x masc reader where they’re in bands? of course, hobie would be a part of a punk group, but maybe reader is in a metal one? they keep running into each other at shows and people think they might not get along, but they instantly get comfortable around each other. it’d be cute if they wore the other’s merch and showed up to some gigs. thank you :)

hobie’s punk, you’re metal (band edition)

hobie brown x masc!reader

EYYYYYYY ANON

had me gripping my knee, tucking hair behind my ear and kicking my feet fr ily tysm - if you’re planning to keep coming back (more than welcome <3) feel free to give me some kinda name to call you ! claim an emoji if you’d like or give me some kinda alias if you’d like, or remain anon, completely up to you !!

anyway such a slay idea thank you so much !

i’m gonna have to be a little brief w details cause i know hobie’s band is completely different in the comics and i have no fuckin clue what’s going on w this hobie’s band, no clue if gwen’s the drummer or what so mans being BRIEF but as far as i’m aware hobie does all of his gigs as “spider-punk” so secret identity still stands. i’m not gonna call him that cause he doesn’t like the name, but you know what i’m tryna insinuate

i’m a guy who can listen to all types of music so i enjoyed indulging in punk and metal music to get a better feel for this, so thank you !

i tried to do research into style, music and history so i hope this is half decent lmao

also wanna stress that i know there’s a shit ton of political stuff when it comes to punk and metal scenes, i ain’t touching it and i want none of you to ask me about it

warnings: none

pairing: hobie brown x masc!reader

requests: OPEN actually begging for them im stuck in a car tomorrow

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

AIGHT ! so you twos both belong to bands that are pretty prominent in london, and if someone doesn’t know one then they’ll eventually learn about the other

you both like to perform at these smaller gigs instead of going mainstream, and it results in you two bumping shoulders every now and again

now, it’s impossible to miss hobie since he’s dressed as a punk spider-man

the same can apply to you if you choose to also have a secret identity lmao

but it’s on sight

it’s a common thing for people to think that punk and metal fans are like cats and dogs (an expression, animals are lovely.) for some fuckin reason

so naturally, both of your fans had always speculated the day that you crossed paths

what would you do ? fist fight ? poke hobie’s eyes out w the 🤘 gesture ? dear god will hobie swing his guitar at you ?!?!

no lmao

it’s like two old friends meeting, you guys have definitely heard of each other before but not yet met, so you’re both pretty psyched to see each other in the flesh !

it’s more like a “Ayy! my guy!” kinda thing instead of typical london stabbing

friendly hug, accidentally get impaled on a spike, that kinda thing

if your fans are sane they’re just kinda like “oh dope lmao” instead of “NOOOOOOOO” because who tf would

instead, opens doors to unlimited possibilities

friendly rivalry ? i think so

depending on what you play/your role in the band, you can get competitive for funsies

if you’re both guitarists you’ve got this ongoing joke about who’s the better one, shows are dope whenever you two are competing cause you go above and beyond for the sake of bragging rights

you win, metal takes a lot more out of a man (from the research i’ve done metal takes more “skill” in a literal sense, way more going on w the cords, correct me if i’m wrong)

hobie insists there are no losers, of course (he doesn’t believe in losing)

hella friendly banter, nudges, cutely whiplashing each other w water at shows whenever you spot the other in a crowd while they’re performing

collaboration ? possibly, imagine that shit

speculation of you two dating ? no because hobie doesn’t like labels

i’m gonna let u decide if hobie is the typa guy to kiss whoever else is on stage w him

back to secret identities for a little- aight so we all know hobie’s identity is a secret because he’s this spider-lad saving london, a conversation starter fr

in the events that you bring it up, he’ll probably just brush it off and tell you to focus on your scene, not in a mean condescending way but because he’d rather talk about music together since it’s his passion

depending on where your guys’ relationship goes determined if he’d reveal his secret identity to you or not, same applies to you if you have a secret identity

but i’ll leave that up to you

back to the gigs ! if you two ever spot each other in the crowds, it’s on sight

wether you recognise each other as your alter egos or secret identities, you will be either drowned by the end of the gig or mercilessly stared at

don’t think hobie would bring people up on stage unless you’re both performing, it can be a super awkward thing, other people might be uncomfortable and also favouritism aint his thing

wear each others merch, see what happens

you don’t have a secret identity and you wear it casually ? will likely catch the eyes of the media and words will spread

i cant actually imagine hobie having official merch, i think he’d like it more if his fans just made things so there’s not that whole “poser” stuff i’ve been seeing (again if i’m wrong and band shirts have significance other than sentimental value let me know)

punk is about diy, so he’d love his fans all the more if the “merch” he had was super unique diy stuff all hand made by his fans :]

so hobie either makes you merch, or you make your own ! he’ll probably make his own merch of you band, too

absolutely wears it to gigs, why wouldn’t he ? how fuckin punk is that ammarite

trade guitar picks, do it

you’re both real comfortable around each other, it’s an honest treat to cross paths whenever you’re both at a gig and if you guys become friends outside of it, that’s all the better

slaps stickers on your instruments case while walking by you, they have accumulated overtime

a lot of friendly call outs at the start or throughout shows, shit like “this one goes out to y/n, he ate my fuckin sandwich” before playing or probably banter along the lines of “refund his show and come to mine instead, it just makes sense” if your shows aren’t free

i expect you to do the same

you are each others worse nightmare

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

[anonymous-harpy]

Okay THAT'S IT I MUST BLAB THE DETAILS

Just gonna put a content warning for SPICE I guess but I'm not really being explicit just- whatever- assume the worst and I promise nothing below will be quite as shocking

So as I said the other day this idea has been on my mind since Icejinlov3r's Melted Passion- and now the idea finally has enough details to make it different enough from Melted Passion for my sanity

SO! In desperate need for a job after losing his last one Geliaden decises to finally agree to Yōji's offer to work at his pornography studio. While that's all fine in good for the time being, Geliaden happens to catch the eye of a kind and well of businessman- Cooler.

Now for all the unnecessary details I wanna share- Geliaden is actually rooming with Frost and Zamasu (AND YES THEY HAVE THEIR OWN ROMANTIC SUBPLOTS GOING ON) Geliaden straight up lies to them about his new job too since they both treat him kindly and he's mostly worried they'll think less of him especially Zamasu I love him but Geliadrn fears judgement and getting stuck in depress again

Yōji is Geliaden's friend that he doesn't introduce to Frost and Zamasu- again because he's worried about being judged and knowing that Yōji is kind of a shit stirrer. Yōji also does just kinda casually flirt with Geliaden 💜

On the Cooler side of things, Cooler is constantly being bugged by Cold about being in a relationship- and lucky him, Frieza also gets to hear the fatherly nagging for grandbabies. And while out with Frieza and Cell the get into a conversation about relationships that eventually has Cooler revealing he's got a "Friends with benefits" thing going with someone and refuses to elaborate further. (YŌJI MY BOY)

NOW FOR THE TRULY RANDOM- The Gammas are struggling collage students and Yõji offers them jobs as security for the studio and eventually they maybe take a few actin' gigs too.

Yes that's another crack ship I was briefly hyper fixated on after watching Super Hero for the first time- FIGHT ME

anyways... I also want my Z Broly in here somewhere i just don't know how to integrate him since the Gamma's characteristics as heros is easy to translate... Of course I could always take the DBZA approach and make him a sweet old soft boy until he's pissed off... Sayians are such fun, boi is a disappointment to Paragus and he's insecure... Okay soft boy it is and I'll figure the rest out later

And yes, I'm planning on Frieza/Frost and Cell/Zamasu. I was even thinking of a fun little moment where Cell HAPPENS TO WORK PART TIME AT THE STUDIO and when he comes over to see Zamasu it's very awkward between Cell and Geliaden because he's just praying for Cell to act like they don't know each other and Cell it's trying to decide how to behave

It's a jumbled mess but a fun one I think

[woobly]

PLUCK MY HEARTSTRINGS. track_013 — infinite rizz

𓂋˚˖ PAIRING. rival band lead guitarist! sunwoo x band rhythm guitarist! fem! reader

𓂋˚˖ GENRE. social media au with some written text, rivals to lovers, band au, college au, fluff, crack, angst

𓂋˚˖ WC. 1.4k words (pretty rushed n dialogue-heavy bc im kinda lazy,, mb)

𓂋˚˖ A/N. hello i am back from hell ..... (technically not rlly bc i still have 2-3 midterms this week but soon 🤞🏼🤞🏼)

𓂋˚˖ SYNOPSIS. competing against a rapidly rising all-male band from another school at an intercollegiate music festival doesn't really sound too bad on the surface. until you see their lead guitarist—the same boy who always made sure you knew who was the better guitarist between the two of you in high school.

masterlist. previous. next.

Saturday afternoon finally came around, meaning you were currently hanging out with your bandmates and your practice room neighbors. You all decided to have a picnic at the park that happened to be right smack in the middle of IST and Cre.ker, the two universities that you and your friends were attending. Yes, friends—whether you consider Sunwoo a friend was still up for debate, but his other band members were definitely fun to be around.

About an hour had already passed since you and Ryujin arrived with snacks in hand. The others brought the other essentials—picnic blankets, an acoustic guitar, bluetooth speakers, and even more food. The picnic had been going pretty well, with people recognizing some of you (mostly the guys) and Jacob providing relaxing background music with his guitar. Haewon was present as well, even if she isn’t part of either band, but no one seemed to mind since she blended in almost too easily.

Just before the sun was about to set, Haewon announced that she had to leave early.

“Sorry guys, I have a gig in an hour,” she shyly admitted as she began fixing her things.

“You perform too?”

“No, I do modeling sometimes,” Half the group gasped, while the other half nodded in understanding, causing her to giggle. Once she was ready to to leave, she approached you first, crouching beside you. “Y/N, are you free tomorrow?”

You turn to her suddenly confused. “I have some errands to do in the afternoon, but otherwise, yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Do you wanna hang out with me for lunch then? There’s this restaurant I’ve always wanted to try,”

You blinked blankly at her a few times before glancing at Sunwoo who’s already been looking at the two of you. “What about Sunwoo? And Eric?”

Haewon glanced at them as well, then smiled and turned back to you. “Oh, I’ve had enough of them for now. I wanna catch up with you,”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t taken aback, but you agreed anyway.

“Great! I’ll send you the address later.” she said before bidding her final farewells to the rest of the group and walking back to her car, with Sunwoo tagging along.

“Were you ever close with her?” Ryujin, who was seated next to you and eavesdropped on your conversation with Haewon, suddenly asked, bringing you back to reality from mindlessly staring at Haewon and Sunwoo walking away.

“Um, no actually. She was always in a different class. Kinda wish she wasn’t though, maybe I could’ve gotten higher grades in groupworks,” you joked, causing Ryujin to smile and scoff.

“Do you think it’s weird?”

“What’s weird?”

“Her asking you out for lunch like that in front of everyone,”

“You don’t think I’m the type to get asked out like that?” you joked again, trying your best to sound as offended as possible.

Giving up, Ryujin sighed and said, “Never mind I asked,” and took a piece of her french fries.

Giggling, you also took one of her fries and dipped it in your cookies and cream ice cream before popping it into your mouth. “I’m kidding. I’m sure she doesn’t mean it like that. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with hanging out and reconnecting,”

“Still. If she really is asking you out, you better say no because I was already thinking about asking her out,”

“You what?” Another voice suddenly joined your conversation, a voice distinctly Sunwoo’s.

“Yeah, you got a problem with that, Mr. ‘I got infinite rizz’?”

“I do actually,”

“Oh? And why is that?” You merely chuckle as you watched them bicker and Sunwoo eventually having to admit defeat.

“Guys, can we please cut the cake now?” Hyunjae whines out of nowhere, and you slightly cringe watching the older boy act like a child.

“Wait, let’s take pictures first!”

After settling down from the quick photoshoot under the setting sun, Sangyeon and Seunghee begin passing slices of the celebratory cake they bought. As you ate your share, you noticed Sunwoo removing the berries on his slice.

“You don’t like the berries?”

“No, you can have them,”

Hesitantly, you took one of the berries he set aside on his plate. Plopping it in your mouth, you smiled and swayed a little, happy from receiving extra free food. Sunwoo watched you take his food and simply chuckled.

Borrowing (read: stealing) Jacob’s guitar, Sunwoo began to play random chords. You couldn’t help watching in awe since he was seated next to you as you continued eating your slice of cake. You kept switching from looking at his right hand that was plucking by the sound hole and his left hand that was smoothly switching positions on the fretboard. Everything about the way he handled the guitar was so serene, grasp ever gentle and fingers calm and relaxed—much different compared to how he played on stage. You didn’t realize you were watching so intently until you heard Hyunjae’s laugh suddenly boom from where he was standing.

Snapping out of your trance, you look away for a second and speak loud enough just for Sunwoo to hear.

“What song is that?”

Sunwoo hummed, as if to contemplate a seemingly simple question. “Nothing. I don’t think we’re close enough for me to tell you yet,”

“Oh? But I think I know you quite well already. You’re kinda easy to read,”

“And what might you have concluded from reading me so well?” he playfully said, finally looking up from the guitar in his hands.

You smiled, already knowing where this is going. “That you may or may not have a teeny tiny crush on someone I know,”

Sunwoo’s face goes slightly pale, and he pauses his movements, momentarily forgetting the next chord of the same pattern he’s been playing for a while. You laughed at his reaction, it was priceless, but practically confirming with the boy himself that he did in fact liked Haewon felt a little weird.

Suddenly becoming defensive, Sunwoo raises his hand in an attempt to redeem himself. “Okay, to be fair, that was high school. I don’t—”

“What?! Oh my god, this is worse than I thought,” laughing your ass off, he tried to calm you down but to no avail. When you finally caught your breath, you looked at Sunwoo and chuckled at him.

“Please tell me you wrote a song about her,”

Sunwoo looked at you with obvious defeat and lied down with his back on the picnic mat.

“Oh my god,” you chuckled again, but this time, you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh as much anymore. “Okay, I’ll stop. But not without hearing it,”

“You’ve been listening to it the entire time,”

You gasped, finally connecting the dots. But somewhere between all the putting two and two together, you remembered the serenity that had been radiating off of him earlier, and that tugged at you a little, knowing the reason behind that peacefulness.

“Got any lyrics?”

“Just one or two. I never really knew how to put it into words,”

You watched him watch the clouds move above you. He was responding to you, and yet his mind seemed to be so far away, perhaps lost among the puffs of gray that the breeze carried away.

“Play it again,”

“No, I wanna lie down,”

“Play it again,”

He sighed, sitting up and resting his hands on the guitar once again. As you paid more attention to the song, you began humming melodies and blurting out cliche lines that only a teenager with a crush would say.

As time went on, you began coming up with random lyrics about laundry and taxes, causing you both to laugh at how unserious the atmosphere had become. You were so busy busting out verses that neither of you noticed the others beginning to pack up.

“Give it up, guys. We’ve been listening to the same song for hours,”

“Y/N, let’s go home. I thought you had a project proposal due soon,” Ryujin whined as she started to feel tired.

“Shit, I forgot!” you cursed as you packed up your things as well. Sunwoo watched you leave his side and felt a little awkward just sitting there with the guitar, so he decided to help the rest pack up.

Before you knew it, everyone was already saying their goodbyes and beginning to walk back home.

masterlist. previous. next.

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© woobly, 2023. all rights reserved.

[queersandz]

Listen, I keep thinking that Fem in a Black Leather Jacket by Pansy Division is a gentlebeard song and I need to share my thoughts.

Obviously, at first I thought it was about Ed from Stede's POV. Obviously, the Fem in a black leather jacket is Ed, right? I mean: "With his long, long hair and pouty lips, Cute little butt and sexy hips" Come on, you can't say I'm wrong.

But then I thought Ed's not fem so what happened? And I thought something like Ed is tired of this hypermasc bullshit he has to stick to for some reason (because he's famous for it or he's trans and felt like he had to perform masculinity to be taken seriously or whatever reason you choose) but he discovers this nice new little queer space and decides to try something new, no one seems to know/care who he is there so he allows himself to wear whatever he likes and be himself but he keeps the leather jacket, it makes him feels kinda safe. Enters Stede, who is either the owner of the place or just a regular there (because he just got divorced and finally accepted the fact that he's gay and wants to explore that part of his identity or just because Lucius drags him there) and yeah, the song is from Stede's POV. Or maybe one day he hears the song and thinks "oh wait" and has an epiphany.

But then I thought some more and what if the song is actually about Stede? Like I know the long hair part doesn't work and he's not the type to wear a leather jacket, right? But, bear with me, maybe he bought it on a whim one time after coming out and one day Lucius finds it and he insists he wears the jacket the next time they go out for drinks. Or just he meets Ed at the bar and he talks about being tired of his leather look, Stede talks about his love of clothes, his auxiliary wardrobe, Ed touches his cashmere scarf and Stede is weird and charming but also bitchy and Ed finally asks him "wanna do something weird?" and they end up swapping clothes. And yeah, Ed sees Stede in his clothes and the song is his POV.

Or, new scenario: Ed is in a band, he's Blackbeard, all leather, tough, some heavy rock or punk or even metal imagery, whatever you want. One night they play somewhere, and Lucius had dragged Stede there arguing that he needs to explore different queer spaces or idk, Pete works there, or he's friend with some members of the band. Here we come back to Stede finds himself in a leather jacket for some reason. The band plays and of course Stede is mesmerized by Ed and Ed notices Stede right away. It can be the same night, or another one later when they come back to play a gig, but they play Fem in a Black Leather Jacket, and Ed keeps staring at Stede. Lucius being Lucius he gets it immediately. It's so obvious, but Stede is so oblivious it's actually painful to watch. Bonus point, Izzy is the band manager and he's furious because this song is absolutely not on brand, Ed is Blackbeard, and Blackbeard doesn't play some Pansy Division, and he's fuming in the corner.

Anyway, I don't know where I'm going with this and it got way too long but there we are, my thoughts about Fem in a Black Leather Jacket and Ed and Stede. Make of it whatever you want.

[feybeasts]

OKAY SO LENA

This is mostly gonna be an aimless ramble about Ideas I Have because I’m fulla those dang things most days, and hey y’all seem to like when I ramble about my OCs so I’m gonna Do That More

so y’know. If you wanna learn what my whole idea for yon’ silley foxtaur is, read on

THIS FREAKIN NERD started life as an ooooold OC- the grey, wolfy version is the classic Lena from back in the day (courtesy of absolutely wonderful character design by one of my best friends, this was before I was doing art again) and she was an OC who was always near and dear to my heart. At the time I didn’t put two and two together and go “oh b/c she’s my fursona and aspirational as hell, you closeted trans fool” but hey, I got there

anywho.

I realize that, y’know, ‘sonas don’t need to have lore or be characters, but I like making characters! So Lena does, in fact, have lore. She was, at one point, a regular ol’ person, a human being who pretty much existed on gig work and odd jobs because even in my fantasies, the real world is a gig economy nightmare. The work paid the bills, but it didn’t do much else- one of the most common jobs was delivery, think like, somehow a crappier version of being an amazon courier or somesuch.

Well, on one such delivery job, our gal ended up getting lost- like painfully lost. Instead of her destination, she ended up in literally the feywild, a fact that, despite the very obviously ancient buildings and overgrown mess, she was wholly unaware of. Upon “delivering” the package to the closest thing to an intact structure, she was enticed by fresh food just kinda… left out, we’re talking like a plate of pastries or something, something you could reasonably assume was a “take one” sorta affair.

It wasn’t… that, but bless her, Lena didn’t know that. So she took one… and then another, and another, and another. It’s the classic “oh whups you’re eating the fey’s food, bad idea”, but once she proverbially popped, she couldn’t stop. Which, of course, cursed her all to hell and back- it’s kinda what happens. She was changed top to bottom, and yes, I do mean in the transes-your-gender way but also the bottom became y’know, a fox. And the top was a fox but humanoid- it’s yon form you see above.

It also kinda… made her forget everything about herself. Her name, her age, where she was born- she knew she was human, short term memory was intact, but the rest slipped away… because it didn’t belong to her anymore. Classic fey stuff, eh? Turn you into something, take something intangible because you broke “the rules”.

Well, the new owner of those little details- and by extension, our gal’s fate, was a powerful fey being who was, turns out, the Lord of Debts and Desires, and one of the stinkiest Capital F Fey you could imagine. We’re talking constantly smug, always speaking in half-truths and pregnant pauses, a real piece of work straight outta a fairytale (which, y’know, tracks, considering)

And while this fella was nonplussed about an offering to him- and all the magic with it- being hoovered up by a delivery driver, he had a new lackey out of the deal. And that, friends, is what Lena is- a lackey.

She’s technically a cursed human, but her name is one she picked (it sounded nice, almost like a meta thing I guess) and her history is a bit of a blur past the basic facts. The fey she works for pretty much bound her to a contract: work for him until he considers the debt settled, and she’ll be right back to the old self lickety split.

I’ll let you guess as to how long that is, or whether yon fey actually thinks she’ll want to go back. Because truth be told, part of Lena… doesn’t want to. A big part.

She didn’t expect to be this way, but she’s come to embrace and even… like it more than the old her. It’s confusing, sometimes frustrating, but it feels more like her than she’s ever felt.

…wonder what THAT is a metaphor for? 🏳️‍⚧️

Anywho, there’s another big wrinkle- and that is that Lena isn’t fully a fey being… yet. I say she’s technically human because there’s that little bit of her that feels like she needs to hold onto the old idea of herself- not desperation, just… momentum, I guess. But as her fingers slip from that, she becomes more and more fey and less and less human… well

I wonder what the outcome will be?

[muppet-meat]

TIPS FOR ASPIRING KJs!:

Hello everybody, I’ve been a karaoke-host for three years and recently have been asked: “What makes a good KJ?”

Well, assuredly you’ve come to the right place if you wanna learn some tools-of-the-trade, when I asked my boss who owned the karaoke nightclub for a little over two decades the same question; here are some key takeaways from that very insightful dialogue I had with him:

You may find yourself thinking this is like any other DJ gig.

You may find yourself thinking that this is like stage-directing..

Well, it’s kinda like that... But not really.

For one you do absolutely need to have personality-and-charisma, you can’t let your own brazenness get in the way of any singer nor should theirs affect you.

The way he put it was that he leaves his emotional-baggage at the door and not to even think twice about the innumerable songs you’re going to hear sung.

You need a degree of charm to get folks’ attention and to firmly maintain it one should lay those three personality-quirks thick.

Your announcing-voice doesn’t necessarily have to be melodic but it can’t be flat either — in essence you want to project but not too aggressively, have enthusiasm, have workhorse-energy that people secretly envy, have the reassuring voice that gives people comfort knowing that they are going to have a good time but also don’t overdo it, it’s a quick way to burn-out.

You gotta have the spunk meld with quick-resolve, the same applies for bartenders within the service-industry: You’re gonna meet lots of people who are either inebriated or-not, in a bunch of different moods who all went through something or another either that day or in general, as he put it; “..Most of ‘em don’t leave their shit at the door, yes it sucks when customers don’t buy booze but never pressure them to drink or to sing. The sayin’ goes you can lead a horse to water...”

You need own and hone three sets of ears: (You’re probably like: What do they mean by that?) You’ll need your everyday-life ones, and then behind the mixer you’ll need the other two for the track and for the vocalist — you’ll develop then latter(s) over time but it’s important to know when your mixing is good and when it’s an adequate level that won’t be irritating/deafening or tinny, the better you make you make them sound, the more your singers’ll come back, trust me.

Yes, it is your show above-all because you’re running the thing, but think of it as a venture: it’s your library and collection of tracks you accrue over-time. Nevermind Karafun subscriptions.. Its your sound-system. It’s your attitude and demeanor that control every aspect of your life — how you conduct yourself should be professional: If you’re good at crowd-work it’s fine to lightly incorporate it but don’t hog-the-mic with your own singing or talking too much when someone’s not singing, use that time to stretch your legs with some curated bumper-mixes of your own or even a playlist so you can get to know your crowd and engage with them person-to-person.

You come off more personable and approachable that way. I’ve had a lot of success doing it that way and how I’ve been doing it three years.

Your memory is a huuuuge thing, take care of your mind — I say that it’s probably a big thing if you wanna not just maintain a steady regular-crowd, it’s how you make lifelong friends doing it. I’ve had people floored, literally flabbergasted by me remembering their names and some of their songs. It’s gotten me tipped. Its gotten my reputation upstanding and it’s made plenty of friends and acquaintances alike who always come back and are always happy to see me.

KJs absolutely exist to set the tone and provide exceptional service and unwavering support throughout the entire experience, that’s what your selling:

An experience.

[tittyinfinity]

Hey y'all. I'm a bit uncomfortable talking about this, but I just wanna be open. I took another gig with the guy my friend and I stripped for at a private party a while back. It was just me this time. I had to do some things I really wasn't comfortable with in exchange for him paying me extra. I'm honestly a little traumatized from the experience. I made $250, but I feel like that wasn't enough for everything...

I've also had people offer to pay me for nudes, but after having one leaked, I'm not comfortable with that anymore... I still need a few hundred for the total costs of everything, but I really, REALLY don't want to resort to those things again.

I just wanted to share this to let y'all know that I did go out and try to get the money myself, I'm not just relying on other people. I'm just kinda....begging extra hard now because I can't do that again. I'm so sorry.

Please don't reblog this version

Other post is getting really long, but I'll pin it so you can look at the full details.

Single disabled queer parent desperately needs help in a time-sensitive situation (9 days)

C*shapp: $yourdestinymae

P*ypal: yanidork

V*nmo: nicework_bonedaddy

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

chained, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: You ever fuck someone wearing a collar and a chain... that's attached to the hot girl with the demonic grin? No? Just Min Yoongi? In his defense, he really likes a bad bitch.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; yup, there are Marilyn Manson and Slipknot references; D/s smut (fem reader, black leather collars and a chain leash, [a lot of] choking, saliva everywhere, handjob, m-receiving oral, slight edging, hair pulling, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - rapper, sub!Yoongi x goth (also kinda his manager? lol) dom!reader; kinda PWP; Yoongi's POV

--

feel like I'm hexed, yeah, that bitch bad collar on her neck and her ass real fat

Most people would say, “Nah, dude, don’t mess with girls like that.”

Most people would say, “She’s fucking scary, why the hell would you think she’s hot?”

Most people would, but Min Yoongi wasn’t most people.

“I want to play a game.”

He tilted his head. “Then let’s play a game.”

She grinned, wild hair over her left eye. “Yeah?”

The first time he met her, he was at a bar and a woman was chatting him up, engaging him in conversation he didn’t want to be in. Fuck. The only reason he came was to accompany his friends, but they were all much more extroverted than he was and had already wandered off with potentials of the night. He didn’t want a potential. He just wanted a damn shot of whiskey and then he was going to slink into a corner and pretend nobody existed.

He minimized his responses to, “Mhm” and “Yeah,” but the woman wasn’t getting the hint and the bartender was busy. Sigh.

All of a sudden, a short man with a white, mannequin-like mask appeared. The white mask was painted with black streaks. He had stringy, long black and red hair and was wearing black coveralls.

Yoongi and the woman jumped away from each other, disconcerted by the appearance of the strange, tiny man.

“Bartender! Hey, real quick, can you get my friend here a drink?”

And then, fuck.

Black leather jacket, silver hardware. Tight fitted white top, so shredded the black bra underneath was visible. Short black pleated skirt. Ripped tights. Thick black boots with chains. Yoongi felt his eyes widen, looking up and down at this curvy frame. Wild hair, lush tits, juicy thighs, an ass that could put anyone in a trance with the way those hips swayed. Dark makeup, playful grin with red-stained lips.

A black choker with at least eight-centimeter spikes.

A pure white contact lens in her left eye.

“Hey, you can’t cover your face here,” a patron interrupted. “That’s creepy.”

The small man in the mask didn’t reply. The woman in black, however, swatted a hand like she was whacking away a fly.

“He’s part of the entertainment. Buzz off.”

“Oh, yes, you’re the band’s drummer, right?” The bartender rushed over. “Sorry, sorry. What will it be?”

The masked man said nothing.

“Double shot whiskey on the rocks,” the woman replied for him. “Did I get it right this time, Hana?”

A single nod from that stringy head.

“What about you?”

Yoongi jumped, startled the woman in black leather was addressing him. She cocked her head to the confused bartender. “You’ve been standing here ignored for the past ten minutes. I noticed because I was waiting for the guys to suit up to bring Hana to the bar.” She waved her hand. “Come on. Give me your order. I got you.”

“O… Oh. Same thing.”

She nodded. “Ya heard him. And don’t just only pay attention to cute girls, bartender.”

The bartender’s cheeks flushed. “A-Ah, I apologize! I’ll have them ready right away.”

The woman sighed and shook her head, completely ignoring the chatty woman who was making eyes at Yoongi, trying to get near him again. Yoongi pretended not to notice, stepping closer to the short, creepy man. The white mask didn’t move. The woman leaned down a bit because the man was shorter than she was with her height and platform boots.

“Don’t be takin’ nothing with the whiskey now. I’m treatin’ ya,” she chuckled under her breath.

Yoongi noticed the slight satoori. It made her voice a little deep and gruff.

“Shut it.”

She snickered. “Made you talk, Hana.”

The white mask went back to being silent.

She sighed and stood back up turning her attention to Yoongi. “Sorry about my friend here. He doesn’t like talking or people. I’m trying to get him to be more personable. Is it working?”

Yoongi blinked.

“Uh.”

Damn, every time she smiled, he felt a thrill shoot up his spine. White teeth showing, pink tongue peeking out between them.

It just seemed a little psychotic, a little mischievous, and a lot sexy.

“I know it’s not working. Can’t say I didn’t try.”

The masked man might as well have been a mannequin with how still he was.

“You’re his manager?” Yoongi found himself asking.

She shrugged. “Kind of? I actually just own the studio space the band records. But I like coming to the gigs sometimes if I can. Good excuse to get a little drunk, eh? Plus, I’m trying to find musicians to rent out the other spaces.”

Fuck.

Was it his lucky day or what?

“I’m looking for a studio space to record my music, actually.”

Her eyebrows raised. “No shit? You wanna talk some business?”

Oh, they talked business to bass and drums thundering the bar.

Later, they talked about some… other things too. What could he say? Yoongi liked a bad bitch. She wore leather, she owned cluster of studio spaces – “well, they ain’t mine, they’re my dad’s, but he’s never here, he’s off gambling and chasing booty, I think” – she gave him a fair price, and she loved to suck dick.

Yoongi didn’t find out about that last bit until later.

Right now, she was clipping the end of a silver chain to the collar around his neck.

It was heavy, probably metal. The collar he was wearing was thick black leather, with a steel ring resting against his collarbones. Yoongi was pretty sure she was doing a number on him. He wore a lot of black, yeah. He liked leather jackets too. But being around her presence was messing with his head and he was pretty sure he was being influenced by her energy. He used to hate his eye shape and his dark circles, but when he saw himself in the mirror with her tangled around him, riding his dick, he found himself thinking he didn’t look so bad after all. He looked good standing with the woman with the white contact lens and the demonic grin.

Maybe he was a little crazy, but everyone was a little crazy. Yoongi wasn’t worried about something like that.

Right now, she licked her teeth with that lithe, pink tongue of hers.

The other end of the chain was connected to the collar around her neck.

“You wanna play?” she drawled.

Fuck, he loved that shit. Her voice got slightly deep and throaty when she spoke in satoori. He wasn’t sure if she noticed it or not. It must be from her father. She mentioned that she had been raised by her dad – “sporadically, he liked to travel and, by travel, I mean gamble and chase ass, although surprisingly he didn’t come back with more kids, so I guess he learned his lesson” – but she was kind of the same way.

Not the gambling bit.

He didn’t really mind it though. She didn’t try to hide anything and he encouraged her to be herself. Plus, no one was getting the treatment he got. Yoongi was pretty sure about that, because when she fucked around, she did it in public. He had to be the one to tell her to take it upstairs and go for the throat.

Alright, not the throat. The dick.

In some way, Yoongi felt that was her way of asking if he approved, because she never took it upstairs and out of his sight unless he gave her the go ahead.

Right now, her tongue extended and wiggled in the air, glossy and slick with her saliva.

He smirked, open-mouthed and with a flick of tongue at the edge of his teeth.

She gripped the chain and yanked him by the neck to her face, crashing that demonic grin to his lips.

Like an injection or a spell, it gave him a rush, the firm leather snapping against his neck, chained to her, both wearing the collars, but she was always in control, always, and he liked it like that, liked the way she traced his lips with her powerful tongue, her saliva his aphrodisiac, before she captured his lips and rolled her body into his lap, skin to skin, moving like a snake, his gasp against her devouring mouth, her bare ass sliding on his thigh, fuck, so sexy, so soft, so bouncy, one hand on his face and another on his shoulder, fingers spread out and tendons flexing.

He liked to say she was the angel that held up her blinding halo with devil horns.

She yanked on the chain and Yoongi sucked in a breath, closing one eye as she licked his cheek, ending with a kiss on his brow. Cold air chilled his wet skin, making him shiver.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ hot, Yoongi.”

Pretty sure neither of them believed in a god but it got the point across.

He raised his hand and she smacked his wrist down, pinning it to the bed.

“Nuh uh.”

Yoongi wasn’t really expecting her to let him.

He raised his other hand. It was immediately swatted down onto the bed, her eyebrow cocking.

“Naughty, naughty.”

He cocked an eyebrow back, defying.

She leaned down and snatched the chain in her mouth, tugging on it with teeth and neck, narrowing her eyes. The white contact lens on her left eye gleamed under her lashes. She always wore it except right before sleeping. He once asked her why and she had shrugged.

“Mental security, I guess.”

Now, she growled like an animal.

“Down.”

She looked like she was about to headbutt him. He wouldn’t put it past her.

He lowered himself slowly, her mouth holding the chain taut until he was laying on the bed. She grinned, pleased at his obedience. Yoongi was quite sure that she was probably the closest being to a succubus that he would ever encounter with the violent thrill of arousal she was giving him with those plush lips and white teeth around the silver chain, pink tongue circling around the metal to tease him.

Maybe he was the crazy one for being turned on by it.

She dropped the chain on his chest. He flinched, the wet, heavy metal thudding onto his sternum, right against his pounding heartbeat. She rubbed her thigh against his balls and hardening cock, raising her head, chain following, higher, higher, letting go of his hands, arching her back, tits up, until it was fully taut between his neck and hers, the sides of the collars forcefully digging into his neck and hers. Yoongi did not lift his head from the bed to reduce the tension. Her devilish smile widened. A chain tug-of-war between collar to collar, both of them choking the other.

She lifted her hand and licked her palm, saturating it with saliva.

She reached down and wrapped her long fingers around his stiff length.

Didn’t say he could touch her though, so Yoongi didn’t.

“Think you can last longer than last time?”

He clenched his jaw. “Maybe.”

She pulled harder and he locked his neck and shoulders, clutching the sheets with a sharp gasp, pleasure shooting up his core, firm, strong strokes up and down his cock, fuck, fuck, every damn time, that second of cold as her saliva soaked his skin and then it warmed up fast to hot, slippery ecstasy, hard and getting harder, his pre-cum mixing with her saliva, staring at her hard nipples and juicy hips, knees around one of his thighs, shaking her ass when she noticed him looking, changing the pace, addicted to the feeling of her hands. He could feel the bones and the hard muscle of her grip and, sure, that didn’t sound sexy, but it felt incredible, adding stimulation in that inescapable hold and paired with slickness, choking his cock slightly and he craved every second of it, thighs tense and hard, growling in his throat as he dug his head into the mattress, pulling the chain for all it was worth, lightheaded now, the leather cutting in, probably leaving a mark, locking eyes with mischievous orbs and an impish smirk, the sides of her collar also cutting into the sides of her neck, choking herself as she was choking him while jacking him off.

Black haze threatened the edges of his vision.

He was going to pass out or cum. Yoongi didn’t care which happened first.

“F… Fuck!”

Yoongi snapped his jaw shut and shot up her forearm and down his length, strained groan of her name leaking past his teeth, bolts of pleasure invading his nerves all the way up to his scalp, blossoming into an erotic haze. She snapped her head forward. Oxygen flooded his brain, his jaw going slack with a moan, his eyes rolling back, high so high his whole body shuddered, barely registering her movement, hearing the lewd slurps of her drinking up his cum.

Wet.

Hot.

“Shit!”

Her mouth enveloped his twitching length, burying it deep into her throat, slathering tongue and satisfied hiss, chain clinking against his stomach and hitting his trembling balls, twisting her head so the chain wouldn’t cause any damage to them as she began to suck, flashes of tongue flickering out of the edges of those plush lips, grazing his crotch and scrotum, pointedly staring at him with an arched eyebrow.

She bounced her hips when she noticed him looking, shaking her ass as she sucked his dick.

Yoongi grinned.

His vision was barely focusing, trying to recover from orgasm in the midst of the intoxicating pleasure of her soft and tight mouth, tongue rubbing under the head of his cock, causing it to jerk and swell in the back of her throat and then she thrust it all the way back in there, taking him impossibly deep, sinfully moaning around his cock, vibrating it with lust. He glanced at her hands, fingers spread out and joints locked, tendons flexed, pointed black fingernails clawing into the sheets.

The heat flaring over his abdomen and hips was rising to his limit once more.

Yoongi panted her name, hoarse and breathless, realizing his Daegu satoori was suddenly more prominent in his disheveled state.

“I’m gonna cum–”

She popped her mouth off his cock and he snapped his teeth, snarling.

“You bitch.”

She grinned, wiggling her tongue, thick plops of saliva dripping down and hitting his flinching hips and throbbing cock, the head an angry purple-red from being so roughly stimulated after orgasm. The white contact gleamed alongside the devious glint in her right eye, black pupils blown out, a little psychotic, a little mischievous, and a lot sexy.

It didn’t matter who was on top because she knew she was always on top.

To be clear, Yoongi didn’t take shit from anyone without a fight. It got him in trouble sometimes, but this particular brand was trouble was the kind he liked. She gave him a long period of two seconds to roll the condom down before tangling one hand in the metal chain and the other in his black hair, pulling both in opposite directions. He hissed dangerously, plunging his hard cock into the wet, waiting heat, scorched by her roughness and his desire, one of her legs on his shoulder and the other around his waist, smacking their bodies together with violent force.

The tip of her tongue traced her teeth, grinning demonically.

“Come on, you said you were gonna play the game with me, Yoongi,” she chuckled, naughtily mocking him, voice deep and rough from her satoori.

“Let’s see if you can keep up,” he growled in kind, low and gravelly.

She pulled on the collar much harder than his hair, but both were equally arousing, prickling pain on his scalp and circulation cut short once again, brief flashes of oxygen bleeding through with his aggressive thrusts, the excess chain knocking against her collarbones, just another layer of sound along with slapping hips and squelching juices, her velvet walls clenching around him with every descent, not going fast so he could last, burying deep and hitting her hard. She winced, guttural growl at the base of her throat and the side of his lips quirked up.

“Too much?” he taunted.

“I’ll tell you when it’s too much,” she grunted, jerking her hips up and brutally squeezing the head deep inside.

“Fuck…”

He knew she wouldn’t let him do anything she didn’t want, so he kept going, her wrist flicking up with every thrust, leather collar snapping into his skin, thinning his breath to gasps at the stinging pain, the hand in his hair releasing him, messy black strands invading his vision, but he had no time to complain, groaning as her nails dug into his back and dragged up, inflamed hot lines that shot into his system and fed his adrenaline. His fists bunched the sheets, locking his shoulders, clenching his jaw, flexing his neck, and now he was being choked again, consistently this time, oxygen thinning out once more, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Her smile sent thrills up his spine and they split at the base of his head, tendrils of vicious desire numbing all sensations except lust, gluttonous for the pain that nourished more pleasure, greedy for everything she forced him to take, too prideful to ask her to loosen her hold, desperate not to give in to her wrath, usually slothful but now using every fiber of his strength to push himself to the limit, high getting higher knowing that anyone would be envious of how good he got it from that fiendish playful grin and hot delicious body under him, collared together in joined sin.

She let out a low moan, basking in him, feeding his need to satisfy hers.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot, Yoongi.”

He managed to get out half of a breath, staring into those irises, one real, one covered in white.

“Fuck, your voice gets me off every time,” he hissed.

He slammed his hips down and she clamped around his entire length, releasing the chain, both of their heads tipping back, his in the air and hers into the pillows, moans in unison as he shot into the condom and she released onto his twitching length and skin, coating him with slickness. The scent of sex permeated the air, his previous orgasm soaked into the sheets already and hers smearing with it as their hips descended, his throbbing cock pulsed by her flinching walls, her thighs tense around his waist and his hard ones against her ass, making sure to lean forward so he didn’t fall out, savoring every second of their joined bodies.

The hotel room was certainly getting some important use.

Yoongi remembered he had been annoyed when she said he should rent one since the potential gig was rather far away and transportation so late at night was going to be a bitch. He almost didn’t do it, but she rolled her eyes and booked it anyway, triumphant when he sold out the venue. Not a huge venue, but bigger than he had ever performed before.

He still said she had to make it up to him for making him travel farther than he originally wanted.

As usual, Yoongi was not disappointed.

“Housekeeping is gonna be pissed,” she chuckled. “Smells like sex.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“How’s your throat?”

“Pretty sure rapping strains the inside of my throat, not the outside.”

She chuckled. “Now you hurt all over.”

“Good.”

Yoongi closed the distance and kissed that smirk, metal chain sandwiched between their hot, sweaty skin, the steel rings of the black leather collars clinking against each other.

--

masterpost

-

the lyrics in the beginning are from hot demon b!tches near u!! by CORPSE ft night lovell

[cjsinkythoughts]

Flaws

Written for @honeysucklesteve​’s 4k writing challenge! If you haven’t, go check her out because she’s amazing!

Pairing: Mickey Henry x fem!Reader

Summary: You hate his music taste. He hates yours. You have a bad habit of stealing his gigs. He has a bad habit of fucking you until you can’t walk straight. Everyone has flaws. What are you to do about it?

Word Count: 3822

Warnings: Cursing, hate sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, slight edging, there’s a mirror involved, drugs, alcohol, clubbing, smoking, one mention of lung cancer, mentions of Monday’s plot, so slight spoilers; (I hope I’m not forgetting anything. These kinds of warnings are new to me. If I am, feel free to tell me.)

18+ PLEASE!!! MINORS DNI!!!

A/N: I know I haven’t posted in a while, but here you go! I’m so nervous about posting this. Honestly. I feel like I kinda rushed it a little? I dunno if it’s good. Uhm, I will say that Mickey is not soft in this. You know how he’s all cute and flirty in the movie? Yeah. Not here. I have plans to write for him later on where he’s more on character and adorable and all that, but it’s enemies to lovers and he hates reader and reader hates him. So. Yeah. Have fun with that.

This is a few firsts for me; first published smut, first Mickey Henry fic, and first enemies-to-lovers ever! I’m attached to friends-to-lovers (my parents’ fault), so going in the opposite direction is exciting and I hope it works out! (We’ll see what it can become after it’s been written.) 

Also! Yes, I’m adding the link to the inspiration of the remix here. You’ll see what I’m talking about. I imagine more bass, but that’s basically it.

As always, all mistakes are mine and please excuse them as it’s not beta’d! Be kind to yourselves and others! Stay tuned and enjoy!

Part Two - Addictions

My Masterlist

*****

Between the tumultuous, voice losing cheers and the pounding, headache inducing bass, it’s a miracle the occupants of the building can hear anything at all. The large room is doused in bright pinks, purples and blues, glitter getting into every pore and crack, the smell of cigarette smoke and booze lingering in the air. 

Bodies pressed together uncomfortably tight, breath and sweat mixing in a way that can’t be enjoyable, but no one notices because they’re all too high and drunk. There’s a couple swallowing each other in every dark corner of the room. A group of guys looking to get some are laughing rather obnoxiously at the bar, having consumed far too much alcohol to be safe. 

Bouncers are escorting people out left and right; a streaker who decided to get on a table and dance, a couple who took it a bit too far over the bar counter, a group of girls who were no doubt too young to be in such an environment. Boisterous, chaotic, borderline dangerous.

There’s no place he’d rather be on a Friday night.

Up on the center stage, playing around with his tracks, messing with the turntables, pulse connecting to the music, head bobbing with the beat. He’s in control. 

Every party. Every Friday, Saturday, Sunday night. Every weekend.

He’s in control.

It’s what he liked so much about doing what he does. Once he’s booked, he’s booked. It’s his night. He controls the sounds people hear. He controls what they dance to. How they dance. The pace of the night. The feeling of the night. And no one can take it away from him.

No one, that is, except you.

He hears you before he sees you, which is nearly impossible considering how loud the music is, but you somehow manage to take control of the room the moment you walk in it. You always get what you want with a bat of your eyelashes. And if you aren’t given it, you take what you want without regard for other people.

It really really pisses him off.

You’re laughing with a group of your friends, guys and girls’ heads swiveling to stare at you, captivating every heart in the room as per usual. You always show up with the same group, but he doesn’t even know any of their names even though you run in the same circles. It’s not like you end up hanging out with them for long, and you never leave with them. No, no. You always leave with him.

And that pissed him off too. 

He can’t help it. He has absolutely no control over himself when it comes to you. And he hates you for it. He hates that he lets you take over with only a few snarky comments in his defense. He hates that you always get into his head. And he hates that you’re the best fuck he’d ever had and he can never get enough of you.

But most of all…he hates your music.

“Hey, hey! There he is!” You send him that infuriating smile of yours, a drink in your hand. It’s a flaw of yours. One of many, but probably the biggest. Alcohol. Like him and his cigarettes. He watches you with narrowed eyes as you effortlessly move through the crowd, your girls and guys seeming to vanish into the mob with every step you take.

You end up in front of the stage, leaning on it and giving him a smirk as you sip on your beverage choice of the night. It’s always something different. The only common factor is the alcohol you crave, letting it wash over your tongue, burn down your throat and slip into your veins.

“Heya, Mouse!”

“Don’t call me that!” He shouts with a growl over the music, pulling his headphones down around his neck. “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“I got called this morning! Said there was a gig tonight!”

He shakes his head, gesturing to the set up. “You’re a bit too late there, sunshine! Gig’s booked!”

You shake your head back at him. “I’m taking over from here, Mouse!”

“Says who?!”

“Argyris!”

His jaw clenches, his forehead creasing, a skeptical scoff leaving his lips. “Fuck you! No he didn’t! He said this one’s mine!”

You just give a shrug, no cares in the world, downing the rest of your drink. “You can fuck me later! For now, if you wanna whine about it, Daddy’s over there!”

Another growl leaves his chest as he scowls at you, eyes darting to where you’re pointing. Argyris is by the bar, of course, swaying on the seat. Barking out a laugh, he looks at you with a shake of his head. “He’s so drunk he probably shit himself again! You can’t take his word for it!”

“I can when he called me this morning, sober as he can get!” You shoot back, hopping up to stand besides him. “Besides! Someone’s gotta make sure these people have an actual good time!”

“Don’t touch anything until I get back!” He snaps, pointing warningly at you as he starts to walk towards Argyris.

You smile innocently, even though he knows you’re anything but. “Yes, sir!”

He marches over to his asshole friend and grabs him by the shirt, turning him around. “Mickey! Havin’ a good time?!”

Mickey glares, feeling his blood boil and his ears heat up, not from the proximity of strangers around him. “What the fuck?! You told sunshine over there that she could have my gig?!”

“I thought you’d wanna break! Dance and relax for a little bit! It’s only a two hour slot I gave her!”

“You should’ve fucking asked, Argyris! I don’t want her anywhere near my-” His sentence is cut off by a change in the music and he whips over to the stage where you’re grinning and jumping with the crowd. You catch his eye and throw him a wink, holding one of the headphone cups over your ear. “ Oh for the love of - she’s messing with my stuff!”

“I thought you liked her!”

Spluttering, Mickey gapes at the other man in disbelief. “Like her? I can’t stand her! She’s so fucking annoying!”

“What’s so annoying about her?!”

Mickey snatches the drink Argyris was about to gulp down and slams it on the counter. “She’s a spoiled fucking brat! Everyone lets her do whatever she wants! She steals half my fucking gigs! And her music is shit! Listen to this!”

Argyris looks around the room and shrugs. “Everyone else seems to like it! Sure it’s different than your disco-”

“It’s not disco!”

“But it’s a crowd pleaser! Just relax! Have a drink and go dance!”

“Argyris!” Wanting to scream in frustration, he watches the man stumble off to get another drink down the bar. “Dammit! This is fucking shit.” Grumbling to himself, Mickey storms back over to the stage, easily pulling himself up.

You bite your lip and raise an eyebrow at him. “So?! How’d your date with Argyris go?!”

“I hate you so fucking much! Use your own fucking headphones!” He snatches the pair from your neck, pulling the cord out. “Why do you always have to steal my gigs?!”

You shrug, leaning forwards to brush your lips against his ear. “Yours are so much fun.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyebrows furrowing. This always happens. Every time. The moment he feels in control, you do something and he feels every ounce of himself slipping away. It’s the reason he fucks you. To take back that control he so easily gives to you. To make sure you understand that on the weekends, he’s in charge.

But not tonight. No, no. Not tonight. He refuses to get caught up in that game tonight. You wouldn’t end up in an alley or some bathroom with him. He wouldn’t end up on your couch or in his kitchen with you. He refuses to let it happen. Again.

Instead, he lets out a chuckle and nods. “Yeah. Okay. Whatever sunshine.” He takes a step back, giving you a smirk as your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You have fun playing your shitty music!”

“Have fun moping!” You call back, turning to the table and ignoring him completely as he groans and jumps off the stage.

Good God. You’re infuriating.

But so is he.

You hate Mickey Henry. You just do. You hate that he has zero responsibilities and gets away with it. You hate that he can charm his way out of any situation. You hate how immature he is and how no one ever forces him to grow up. And you hate how easily you let him take charge when he’s with you. After a life full of people making choices for you, you crave control, but with him? The moment he tells you to get on your knees, you fall, no matter where you are or what you’re doing.

But most of all…you hate his music.

You take his gigs to save people from listening to it, but also so he knows he can’t talk every situation into his favor. That Argyris can’t always take care of his job for him. He never checks up on gigs once Argyris tells him he has them. So it’s really his fault for not taking some responsibility.

Watching from the stage as your music flows through you, vibrating your bones and sinking into your skin, you’re not surprised to see him get out a cigarette as he heads to a mutual acquaintance of yours. He has many flaws, but that’s a major one. Like you and your alcohol. Him and his cigarettes. You wouldn’t be surprised if you learn a couple months from now that he has lung cancer.

Mickey is talking low to the guy and you already know what’s going on. That was a flaw you both shared. Drugs. He is much more intense than you though. While you’d be fine with some pot, he almost always hits hard with cocaine. Not that you’re innocent from that type yourself - you’d done it multiple times with the man himself if you ended up at each other’s place. Never in the bedroom. You never made it that far, and you don’t really care to. But after those times bent over the table, being pounded into the couch, hanging against the wall, you’d get high with him before one of you takes off.

You’re not exactly sure what happened earlier. You were a bit shocked when he stepped away. Not that you usually left so early, but he didn’t even stay to bicker some more.

Not that you care. You’re just…curious. Maybe he’s finally growing tired of the game you’ve been playing. You’ve been playing it for a few years now. With that weird little pause last year.

You actually thought he had changed.

Having run into him at a party, you prepared yourself for the arguing that no doubt would end in sex. But it didn’t. It didn’t even start. He was with someone. Like, steady with someone. As in dating someone. Living with her. To the point where his baby mama actually agreed to let him keep his boy in their apartment as long as they were together.

It was a weird six months. You two actually had real conversations. You knew how soft and goofy he could get; you had loads of mutual friends and often went to the same parties so you’d seen that side of him. It was just…odd because it never came out with you. But it did then. And you…liked it. You didn’t see him as often, especially once his kid was cleared to live with them. He stopped going out on weekends, started just attending the small shindigs your friends hosted, worked from home instead of DJing.

But then his girl - what was her name? Claire? Caitie? You can’t remember - left for a job in the States just a few months ago and he was back to square one. His baby mama took back the custody privileges, he went back to partying every weekend, and you fell right back into your petty bickering and rough fucking.

You feel bad. Really, you do. You heard that he’d actually loved that chick. And you know he wanted to see his kid more. You knew about the room at his place. But that almost made you hate him more. That he went right back to his old self. He didn’t even try. He got a taste of being a responsible adult, and then let it go.

Because no matter how hard people try, flaws are flaws. And no one can change that much.

As the night goes on, more booze enters your system, while more cocaine enters his. There’s the occasional glare or immature finger raising between you two. Mickey even sticks his tongue out at you while dancing with some broad, a smirk lifting up the corners of his mouth as yours twist down and your eyes roll.

Your features quickly morph into smug amusement as an idea pops into your head and his eyes narrow. What are you up to? He quickly finds out as you stop the music and bring a microphone to your lips.

“Hey, hey, party people! Everyone’s night going fantastic?!” Cheers are your response. Mickey scowls, not liking where this is going, and starts heading your way. You wink at him. “I’m gonna change it up for just this one song! It’s a dedication song to a good friend of mine! It’s a bit different than the usual stuff, but it’s a bop, I promise! Here’s to the Mouse!”

He immediately freezes as the song starts. “Meeska! Mooska! Mickey Mouse!” He feels his face heat up, his fists balling up at his sides, glaring at you and your shit eating grin as you roll your body to the beat, his feet taking him to the stage.

Effortlessly lifting himself onto it once more, he grabs both your wrists in one of his larger ones to stop the music without you interfering, his rings digging into your skin. “Aww! But, Mouse! We didn’t even get to the roll call!”

“Shut. Up.” He grits out through clenched teeth, putting something else on absentmindedly. He didn’t want Argyris on his ass later for leaving the crowd without music. “God. Stop being a fucking pain in my fucking ass for one fucking minute.”

You roll your eyes, but he’s pulling you away before you can reply. Next thing you know he’s shoving you into the bathroom, growling at the girls that were smoking up the place to get out.

“You think you’re so cute, don’t you, princess?” He hisses in your ear, slamming you against the door once the girls left. He’s so tired of giving in to you, but he can’t help it, crashing his lips against yours messily. Teeth and tongue, the taste of smoke and the fruity drink you had chosen for the night mixing, only making him press closer. Your hands get pinned above your head and he’s pulling your skirt up, bunching it at your waist. It’s rough and careless and fueled by loathing, but when is it not? “Think you’re so funny? Huh?”

“Yeah.” You breath, smirking as he slots a thigh between your legs, squeezing your hips and pressing you down against him, flexing the muscle and making you squirm.

His teeth are biting at your bottom lip and tugging, his hands dragging your clothed core along his thigh. “Let’s see how funny you think you are when I’m fucking you so hard you forget how to breathe.”

Your breath hitches and your hands previously above your head clutch onto his shirt at the friction against your clit. It’s not enough and he knows, but you don’t tell him. “All this over a silly song?” You jest.

He sneers back at you, ignoring your tease. “Did you get jealous, sunshine? Is that what happened? Is that why you decided to be a little shit?”

“Jealous?” You scoff as he attacks your neck, your hands quickly undoing his belt before he shoves his pants down, his briefs following along with your panties. “Jealous of you, maybe. That girl was hot. Way outta your lea - oh shit.”

You always forget how deep he reaches inside you, how much the stretch is. He’s not soft about it, entering you in one swift thrust, your hips connecting. His hands are dimpling your bare thighs, hefting you up so your legs wrap around his waist, rings on his fingers no doubt making imprints. The door against your back starts rattling with every movement, but the music outside was too loud for anyone to hear it.

“Not so mouthy now, are we?” He snaps in time with his hips. He can feel you tightening around him, your fingers dragging down his chest, trying desperately to pull his shirt off.

“C’mon, Mouse. That's all you got?” You pant out, a little whine leaving your lips when he leaves you suddenly, dropping you to your feet. “Mickey! What-”

He cuts you off by pushing you against the counter, a shout leaving your lip when he takes you from behind, making you surge forwards, your head almost hitting the mirror, pelvis hitting your ass with every piston of his hips. His hand is tangled in your hair and he tugs, making your head snap up. “Look at you. So fucked out. I did that. I’m the best fuck you’ve ever had and we both know it.” He isn’t wrong. Your makeup’s a mess, your hair is wrapped around his fingers.

“You’re the one who keeps fucking me.” You argue back, your spine arching as he hits that perfect spot inside you. Over and over and over.

He growls, leaning forwards to fold over you, his lips by your ear. “And who keep being a fucking brat? Huh? Who keeps coming to my gigs, fucking up my weekend? Practically begging me to fuck you.”

You scowl at him in the mirror. “I don’t beg.”

The chuckle that leaves his lips makes you shiver and you whimper when he tugs your hair harder, the sting of your scalp mixing with the pleasure his cock was giving you.

“You will. You may get everything you want from everyone else, princess, but I’m in charge here. Don’t. You. Forget.” His words are punctuated with a hard thrust, making you lurch forwards, your thighs pressing harshly against the counter.

“Oh God…Mickey,” that familiar tightness in your stomach appears, your eye clenching shut as your toes curl. “I’m so close…”

“Open your goddamn eyes. Look who’s doing this to you. Who fucking owns this pussy? Huh?”

Your eyes snap open and meet his again, his breaths fanning across your face, rapidly becoming less steady. “You.”

“That’s right. You wanna cum, sunshine?” You nod vigorously. He takes your lobe between his teeth and tugs as he stills his hips, keeping himself inside you. “Then beg.”

And, just like the many times before, you do. You do because you don’t actually care about begging. You care about him ruining you. That’s what you want. And you always get what you want. Fuck your dignity. 

He starts up slowly again as you plead, stopping a couple more times when you feel yourself getting close. “Mickey! Please, for the love of God!” He’s never edged you this much. Not this intensely. And not in the bathroom at a club. Usually it’s just a quickie before you take him home or vice versa.

But you pissed him off tonight. More so than usual. It was a good night and then you came along. Took his job. Played that dumb song. So he needs to remind you. Put you in your place. “You may be spoiled by everyone else, princess, but I’m the only one who can give you what you really want.”

“God, you’re so annoying.” You grind out through your clenched teeth.

He just smirks. “That wasn’t a denial. Let go, Y/N. Make a mess of my cock. Watch yourself fall apart for me.”

You do as he says, watching your jaw go slack in a silent scream, your body tensing, your legs shaking, as he finally lets you have what you want. Body going slack against the counter, he keeps rutting into you until he groans, a string of profanities leaving his lips as he spills inside you.

The both of you stay there, with him folded on top of you, his forehead resting against the nape of your neck, his grip on your hair loosening.

“That was fun. A little different.” You hum as he gets up. He’s glaring at you as you straighten and fix yourself. “Good orgasm though, so thanks for that. But I gotta get back to work now.”

“You’re such a pain in my ass.” He mutters, tucking himself away and pulling his pants up.

“Kinky. Maybe next time.” You wink at him through the mirror and his jaw ticks. He’s so fucking tired of it. Of you. How you let him have that one bit of control and then your right back to controlling the room once you get what you want. There’s so many nights where he wonders if he should just stop giving it to you. But then he’s inside you and he can’t help himself.

He watches you touch yourself up, although you still look thoroughly fucked, but you don’t seem to mind. This is new. You going back to the gig you stole after sex. He wonders if that was the last time for tonight, or if you’d be leaving together later too.

“I fucking hate you.” He spits out as you open the door, wanting to get the last word in.

You just smirk the same way he did to you earlier. “Yeah…but you love fucking me. Later, Mouse.”

Just like always, you’re the last comment as you walk out nonchalantly, even though he could see the slight wobble in your steps, the door shutting behind you, leaving him alone.

You hate Mickey Henry. You loathe him. You wish you never met him. But you can’t get enough. No matter how many times you convince yourself you have him where you want him, you know you don’t. You’d let him do anything to you. But you can’t stop. Like him and his cigarettes. He’s your flaw. And no matter how bad he is for you, you’re addicted.

Mickey Henry hates you. He loathes you. He wishes he never met you. But he can’t get enough. No matter how many times he convinces himself he’s in control, he knows he’s not. He always gives you what you want at the end of the day. But he can’t stop. Like you and your alcohol. You’re his flaw. And no matter how bad it is for him, he’s addicted.

*****

*****

*****

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[reddpropaganda]

It's interesting how like,,, mythical/mystical? creatures in the ac universe, as far as we know, are rare to come by. Nook and the twins are the only tanuki, and Redd is the only kitsune for example.

Now, there might be a fair population of them around living life same as other animals but we just don't see them.

But what if instead mythical creatures in the ac universe are regarded with suspicion and stigma and treated like second-class-citizens? And that's part of the reason why Tom Nook had it so rough growing up?

We don't really see mythical species because they're living out of slums and struggling for work as other animals think they're scary or strange.

Cue the only other business partner he could find was another yokai-- Redd. And that's why they became friends, having shared a mutual experience with prejudice. It's implied Nook has a past with Sable as well, and they grew up in the same town together. It's then revealed her parents died when Mabel was still very young.

Was it from overworking or a work related accident trying to keep their three daughters taken care of? If so, it's a tragedy to see Sable copy this pattern of working tirelessly at her machine, and... not much else. Even ignoring customers to work as her social life suffers.

Perhaps poor, working class animals and mythical animals are kinda put into the same boat when it comes to classism and so, are more likely to be empathetic of eachother. But Tom Nook leaves for the city anyway.

Was it more openly discriminatory there?

If this is any indication to think so.

That's why Nook takes in Timmy and Tommy. Because without him they,, don't really have a fighting chance out there. It's rough for mystical creatures. He couldn't leave them there in good conscience. Redd can't seem to stick to a legitimate gig and is constantly poor. Himself, broken by the harsh realities of city life.

And what happened to Timmy and Tommy's parents???

The world of Animal Crossing is supposed to be this peaceful utopia land where bad things don't really happen-- or is that only what we're supposed to see? It's odd that both of them are out of the picture and that no other living relative could take them in?

Did they mayhaps leave young Timmy and Tommy someplace they knew the successful Mr. Nook might find them in hopes that they'd be adopted for a chance at a better life? Is this why, despite having no blood ties to him, they're referred to as his "nephews"?

For Tom Nook hasn't forgotten his roots. He still feels a kinship to other tanuki and knows their struggle. He still speaks the old language and respects his ancestors.

He's promised himself to look after these children-- not as their parent, but for the misfortunate parents who had to give them up. He doesn't see himself as having taken their place, as it's likely they're still alive somewhere and could someday be reunited.

Strangely coincidental is that only Tom Nook, the Able sisters, and Redd are known to have had "rough childhoods" compared to all the other animals we see breezing through life, able to afford cushy housing who are financially stable enough to relocate at the drop of a hat with the biggest worries on their plates being "do I wanna do (leisurely activity) or other (leisurely activity) today?"

Joan, the old turnip seller before Daisy Mae, talks about Redd like this:

And yeah, we all know Redd in particular is "untrustworthy," but... why she just start being racist against all foxes in general ajsjs.

(Which, mind you, he's a kitsune in the Japanese.) So she's really saying "don't trust those damned kitsune."

And look at this:

"Wears a raccoon suit." Which sounds like a roundabout way of saying "he's not really one of us, but just looks like it" since tanuki appear like regular raccoons.

The wiki interprets it as "oh haha they think he's a human man in a raccoon suit that's funny" but like,,, why would they think that. What behaviour, displayed by Nook specifically, would be "human-like" when they all act like humans? They'd all be accusing eachother of being humans in animal suits. So that doesn't make much sense.

Maybe that's why Isabelle and himself are his only employees. Because most other animals just aren't that willing to work so closely with a tanuki. He relies on her, not out of choice, but obligation as there's so few options. That would make her a pretty good ally™ in this case.

I adore their dynamic! Since in folklore, dogs are loathed enemies of tanuki and they kinda flipped that on its head in a nice way.

Speaking of Isabelle, her and her brother, Digby are the only different dog breeds we see-- aside from the mysterious K.K Slider, (a Jack Russel) and the only animal with hands. Maybe they're the only few in the world but are able to get by blending in as others obliviously believe they're regular dogs with weird ears or something.

Shih tzu have mythos attached to them as well in which they're able to turn into giant tigers when threatened sjdjs, so maybe Isabelle receives some of that flack and fear, too?

In fact, villagers describe her as going "Isabellistic," framing her irrationally when they "break a window," something that could reasonably incur anger.

Does it imply villagers can be callous and rude because they have no sense of consequence from living such privileged lives?

I hate reading so into the lore of such a happy, soft game but ajsjs I also love seeking the depth and angst™

[ghost-of-you]

We just danced backwards into each other - CH - Part 1

Paring: Calum Hood x Original Female Character.

Warnings: Swearing, Lena's favorite word may be fuck for all I know lol, also drinking, if you're from the US is technically underage, but they're not so 🤷🏻‍♀️

Word Count: 7k

Authors note: okay, one day I woke up and I had this idea in my head, and it was all coming in flashes and I was writing things down as they came and whatever this is happened, actually is still happening I'm not done writing but I kinda wanna post this so, here lol. The whole thing happens in 2 timelines, there's the main one and there are flashbacks where I think they should go, the flashbacks are the italics. If you read this and think it's confusing, please tell me and I'll try to make it better. The story is basically childhood friends to friends with benefits and also feelings to shit we fucked up the friendship to now we are a pr stunt to lovers. The main timeline starts in the shit we fucked up the friendship, and it starts at the end of slfl and the flashbacks will start after the take me home tour and are mostly after that, so we are in "canon" (can I even use this word?) timeline here. Also, this starts with a bit of an exposition dump interview, just to situate things. Also, I have a thing for "I don't deal with feelings Calum" cause he's an Aquarius and I don't trust Aquarius men even tho I'm obsessed with them lol. Oh and the **** means it later on the same day.

The title is from There's No Way by Lauv and Julia Michaels and I will borrow this song for the fic in the future.

Read it on AO3

Part 2

Masterlist

_____________________________________

"So, Lena, you've been opening for 5 Seconds of Summer," the interviewer asked and she smiled as the crowd roared at the mention, she knew she would be answering questions about them for a while. It was her first talk show appearance and she was slightly freaking out.

"Yes."

"But you knew them before you got called to do that?" He continued and she nodded.

"I did, yeah."

"How did you know them?" He finally asked and she smiled at the memories flooding her head.

"Oh, I was in the same class as Luke, Calum, and Michael, so I have known them since I was, maybe 10? It's been a while. Michael and I also shared a guitar teacher for a while."

"And that's how you got the deal with them?"

"Not at all,” she chuckled awkwardly, “I was actually sure that when they found out it was me, that the whole thing would fall through," she laughed and he frowned at her.

"What do you mean?"

"Okay, so, I was renting some studio time 'cause I was gonna put out this song one way or another," she joked and felt encouraged by the laughs she heard, "and the guy that owns the studio said that a band was looking for a female voice to open for them and potentially sign and that he had sent my recording to them, and I was like, okay amazing. I thought it would be just some concerts back home, and I really didn't think much about it until someone from their team reached out to me because they wanted to see me perform, and when I had a gig at a cultural event at my university so I sent them the information."

"And up until then, you didn't know it was 5sos?"

"I had no idea until Calum told me they would be back home and asked if I wanted to go check this show out with them," that was hilarious for her to think about even months after it happened.

"He invited you to your own show?" He asked, laughing along while she nodded.

"He did!" She exclaimed, trying not to laugh and just continued the story, "and when I noticed I was like, yeah there's no way this is happening now, cause the final choice was theirs, like, I went through a whole process and their team was okay with me, but there were other people they were also okay with, so it was up to them, to 5sos I mean, and I was convinced they were not going to choose me."

"Why did you think that?"

"I don't know, my brain had just decided that they wouldn't, obviously, I was wrong, I think that that little gig was one of the best I ever played and Sylvia, my manager, she was talking to me about signing with the management anyway, even if I didn't get the opening spot, and that they would find something else, and it was a whole situation until they decided to offer it to me."

"And I wasn't just a few shows back home," he said and she shakes her head.

"Oh my god, no, one hundred and one concerts worldwide, and up until then I hadn't even been on a plane, it's crazy."

"And the album was done before you went out on tour?" He asked and she frowned, doing a maybe motion with her hands.

"Mostly, we tried to work things out to have it come out right before it started, but that obviously didn't happen, and I wrote a few other songs on the road that ended up in the final version, so we had to work around the first leg of the tour to make the release happen," she explained and he nodded.

"How did you even make it happen?"

"Well, I just decided that sleep was optional," she joked, "and then I found out that vocal rest is actually a great excuse for me to just fall asleep on a couch somewhere."

______

Lena can’t believe that once again she’s standing backstage dreading what will happen after the show. If she knew that this was what she was getting into she wouldn’t have agreed to this, the record deal, the opening spot. Actually, no, that was a lie, no matter what was about to happen, she wouldn’t give up the opportunity for anything. She just wished getting all she ever dreamed of didn’t come at such a cost.

She hates that it’s the last night of the tour and that she can’t focus on that, that she can’t remember what she said or if she sang the words right or if she didn’t mess up any chords. She’s pretty sure at some point she checked to make sure she was wearing the right shoes because she couldn’t even remember getting into her dressing room that afternoon. She doesn’t know how the night is gonna end and as Carry On marks the beginning of their set, she’s not really there. Her mind is somewhere else entirely.

Lena was desperately trying to ignore the panic she was feeling. She wasn't even nervous about the show, but she wished she was. Calum wasn't supposed to be there. And all she could think about is how she was about to play a song she wrote about him on top of all the "actually you belong with me" covers while he was in the crowd reconnecting with her.

That wasn't how she hoped her first gig was going to be. Calum was supposed to be there only in her mind, not somewhere she could get distracted while looking at him. The fact that she managed to land a show the one week he would be home seems insane to her. So she was avoiding the corner where he was standing, the smile that showed her how proud of her he was, making her want to scream just as much as the jealousy she was feeling when he leaned closer to Kate.

It would be a miracle if she walked out from that place with Calum still oblivious about her feelings, the risky glance she gave to him while playing the song she wrote making it obvious something was clicking inside his head. And not only his, considering the glare Kate was giving her. When she noticed that they had disappeared by the time she was playing the final song she knew she was fucked.

The faint screaming guided her to where she shouldn't go once she walked around backstage, trying to figure out if he had gone back there.

“She’s in love with you, Calum," Lena overheard, stopping just short of the door, the words gluing her to that spot, "and I’m not gonna wait around for you to figure out that you feel the same way,” Kate walked out, eyes shooting daggers at Lena when she noticed her.

Calum was standing there watching her leave, only noticing Lena when Kate walked around her. He was looking dumbfounded as Lena walked in so she could get closer to him.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized, watching him carefully.

“It’s not your fault,” he shrugged, and she scoffed at the thought.

“She was yelling at you because of me, so it kinda is,” she said with a sigh, sitting down on the sofa next to them and he shook his head.

“She’s getting things wrong,” he said, turning to look at Lena, his eyes on hers making the thought of lying to him about this unbearable.

“No, she’s not,” she admitted, looking down at her feet because she couldn't face him.

“What?”

“She’s not wrong about me, you know, being in love with you and all,” she said, still looking at the ground, the impact of saying those words out loud making her start to bounce her leg while she waited for him to react.

“What?” he repeated after a second that felt like forever.

“I just don’t wanna lie to you anymore,” she sighed, risking a glance up at Calum, who looked like his world had been completely altered.

“You’re in love with me?” he asked and all she could do was nod.

“It doesn’t change anything, you don’t live here anymore, and it will go away,” she started, voice going higher as she rambled trying to make the situation seem less terrible but he cut her off.

“How long?”

“It doesn’t matter."

“How long, Lena?” He repeated with certain anger in his insistence that made her run a hand through her hair, trying to stay calm.

“It doesn’t change anything,” she whimpered, and he gave her a disbelief look.

“Of course it does,” he said, the anger starting to show in his tone and making her want to disappear.

“Calum, are you still leaving tomorrow?” she asked, mimicking his tone, which seemed to disarm him, the frustration in his face being replaced by something she can't read while she matched his glare.

“Yes," he answered, determined and yet defeated, the heat in his words completely gone.

"Then nothing has changed."

As the last chorus of She Looks So Perfect played, Lena wished she could tell her younger self how wrong she was. She had asked Calum if they could talk after the show and she still didn’t know what to tell him.

Why did they ever think it was a good idea to do this whole friends-with-benefits thing? Why did he think that that was the way to go on about their whole dynamic when both of them knew she would always want more? Why she had agreed to it was another mystery, but she just knew she would take anything she could from him, no matter how bad it was for her sanity. The sanity she could feel slipping away with every passing second as she sits alone in the dressing room. The sanity that’s almost completely gone when Calum opens the door, still glowing in his post-concert high and all she can do is stare at him.

"I need to tell you something," Lena blurts out the second Calum closes the door behind him.

"What's wrong?" He asks, narrowing his eyes at her, moving closer to where she’s sitting by the mirrors.

"I'm staying here," she tells him, watching him waiting for a reaction.

"Here?" He asks as if her words didn't make sense and she sighs.

"I'm not going to LA," she explains and he huffs, giving her a disbelieving look.

"So you're just giving up?"

"No, of course not, but if I stay I can get my degree," she starts, but he interrupts her.

"Didn't you drop out?"

"Not exactly, I changed things around and I've been taking the classes online, but if I go back now and finish the practical stuff and my thesis, I can get my degree and be done with it in 6 months and I can still make the dates in my contract," she explains and the confusion in his face is slowly being replaced with hurt.

"Why didn't you tell me you were still in school?"

"I didn't tell anyone," she defends herself, and he gives her a pointed look, "you never cared much about school, so I didn't wanna bring it up."

"That's cool, Lena, I gotta go," he says, coldly and starts moving back to the door.

"What? Why?" She asks, getting up to get closer to him.

"This just got a hell of a lot more complicated," he tells her, and she snorts, thinking she should've expected this reaction.

"Nice," she grunts, rolling her eyes, "we're back to it's complicated. "

"You’re gonna stay here and I’ll be all the way across the world, so yeah."

"Woah," she sighs with a skeptical look in her eyes.

"You can't just spring this on me and expect me to be thrilled about it," he protests and she shakes her head.

"But I kinda did, yeah, this is important to me."

"You should've talked to me."

"Yeah, well, last time I checked you are not my boyfriend so I don't need to ask for permission," she snaps and he takes a step back.

"We agreed on that," he argues and she rolls her eyes.

"No, you agreed."

"So you're putting half a world between us again because we're not in a relationship?"

"No, I'm doing this because I have no reason not to do this for me, and it's the easier solution."

"Great, tour is over, things were about to get too complicated anyway, it's better like this," he starts to brush it off and she's trying not to get worked up.

"There it is," she says, moving her arms in defeat.

"What? I'm telling you to do what you want."

"No, because this is when you give me a reason," she exclaims and he stops, understanding what she's asking for and dropping his shoulders.

"It's too," he starts to say another excuse and she stops him.

“God, you’re so infuriating!” Lena’s screaming and part of her thinks she should tone it down, but she’s suddenly just too angry to care. “Don't say it’s complicated, you either have feelings for me or you don’t, just be honest with me for fucks sake."

She didn’t know what to expect from her demand, but to watch as Calum walks closer to her, takes his necklace off, takes her hand, and lets it drop into it like it’s nothing was not something she would have predicted even if she did.

“I don’t feel anything for you, I never did,” he says, almost whispering, avoiding her eyes and she scoffs.

“I don’t believe you,” she glares at him, shaking her head as he continues to avoid looking at her.

“You can believe anything you want, that’s on you,” Calum’s walking away now, ready to leave her alone.

“Then how come you woke up with me for half the tour?” Her words make him stop but he doesn’t turn around.

“You were there and I didn't want to be lonely,” he says, after what feels like forever, still looking forward, hand on the doorknob and she feels the air being knocked out of her lungs.

“Fuck you, Calum." She cusses him out, way too low for her anger, and she doesn’t even know if he heard her, when he opens the door and leaves her there.

_____

“Andy, stop hoovering,” Lena snaps as he follows her around their apartment. She knows she’s lucky to have him, lucky he agreed to drop everything and go on tour with her, lucky he agreed to go back to where they were before it all and just help her get her degree, help her write her music. And she’s not angry with him. She’s just angry. And she wants to stay angry because if she lets herself feel anything else, she’s not sure she’ll ever recover.

“I’m worried, you haven’t said a word since we got off stage, Le,” he says, apologetic, and she groans.

“I can’t,” she whimpers, and he frowns at her.

“What’s so bad?” He stops, before changing the question, “What did he do when you told him?” He asks but she just shakes her head, “you did tell him, right?” She nods and he seems to be getting more confused by the second, “what happened, Le?”

“Not yet, I can’t face it yet,” she shakes her head, moving her hand to clutch the necklace that's now around her neck. No matter what happened between them, it was like it was always a sign that things would be okay. She had given that to Calum almost five years before when they booked their first gig.

“Calum, Calum, Calum,” Lena called his name repeatedly as she got closer, practically bouncing while she ran to him through the schoolyard.

“What?” He chuckled when she reached him.

“You’re not gonna believe what I found,” she said, breathlessly, leaning down on her legs and he continued to smile at her.

“What did you find?” He asked and she took a deep breath before standing straight again and matching his grin.

“Here,” she handed him a bag.

“I didn’t get you anything,” he mocked and she giggled, rolling her eyes.

“Just open it,” she smiled as he pulled the little jewelry box out of the bag.

“I was walking to school today and I saw it and I just had to get it,” she started babbling waiting for him to get as excited about it as she was when he opened the box and pulled a silver chain necklace from it, “It’s a bass and it matches my guitar, how cool is that?” She continued, shaking her wrist next to the hand he was holding the chain for him to see the similarity in the two charms and the grin on his face grew.

“We match now,” he pulled the necklace around his head, “thanks, love.”

“Do you like it?” she asked, adjusting the chain around his neck.

“Do I like it? Of course I do,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into a bear hug, lifting her from the ground.

Lena can’t think about what happened. She can’t think about what it means, she can’t explain what happened, she can’t deal with the consequences, she needs to get out of that stupid outfit, burn it and pray she can burn the memory of that day along with it.

“Andy, I’m fine,” she tells him, whose hazel eyes that somehow matched hers are carefully watching her, “I just wanna break something or burn something so I’m gonna go to bed and hope I’m still just angry in the morning.”

“Okay,” he nods, moving out of her way, and she moves blindly around the apartment, robotically showering and putting on clothes comfortable enough for her to sleep. And she’s not sure why she’s padding through the apartment and stopping at Andy’s door until he notices her there.

“Le, what’s wrong?” he asks, shutting his laptop and sitting up.

“Can I sleep here with you today?” She asks, feeling silly, but the only thing she’s sure of at the moment is that she doesn't want to be alone.

“Yeah, come here,” he agrees, scooting over and patting the space beside him.

“What were you doing?” she asks when she’s settled beside him and he chuckles, opening the laptop again.

“Gaming,” he shows her, and she manages to smile at him.

“Okay, I’ll watch you lose then,” she jokes and he looks at her, faking outrage, before starting the game back up.

________

People always seemed to say the worst day is the first one, that things get easier with time, and Lena wants to find each and every person that ever said or thought that way and scream at them. The worst day is all days. Every time she thinks about what happened, every time she thinks about him, every time her stupid phone rings and it isn't him, every time she forgets and almost calls him. Every single little thing just makes her feel worse. And every time she thinks it can’t get worse than it already is, a new wave hits her and she’s being pulled deeper. She doesn’t even know how to begin to get over this when they weren’t even a thing to begin with.

The only good thing is that not knowing was working wonders for her productivity. She just throws herself at everything else, her degree, her writing, every time Lena thinks about Calum, she does something else. The problem is he's all she thinks about. So she's spending every waking hour avoiding how much she just wants to call him and then every sleeping hour dreaming about the good days, or about him showing up at her door. She can't take it anymore.

At least she's better at avoiding it than the last time. A week was what it took for her to break the first time. Sure the mess of her telling him she was in love with him when he was back for a week and about to leave again felt like nothing compared to what she’s feeling now.

"Can you just get him on the phone, please?" Lena was begging Michael, the only one who made the mistake of answering her and the one that was too nice to just hang up on her after he realized it had been a mistake.

"He won't take it," he told her, and she groaned. She knew that. The number of calls and texts he ignored made that pretty obvious.

"Put me on speaker then."

"L, maybe another," he tried reasoning with her but she was beyond reasoning, Calum would talk to her even if she had to find a way to get to him.

"He can't keep ignoring me," she screeched to the phone.

"L, he doesn't," he tried again, but she interrupted him again.

"Michael, I'll keep calling all of you until someone gets him to talk to me, don’t make me find a way to fly to fucking London, because I will," she told him and he sighed.

She waited, listening while Michael said "Just take the fucking phone, mate, please."

"Hello?" Calum’s voice came through the phone and Lena had hoped it would make her feel better, but it actually only made her angry.

Lena’s not cracking this time. No, she won’t call. She’ll think about calling, she’ll write about calling, hell, she’ll walk into the studio one day with a crumpled-up piece of paper in her hands and convince everyone there that opening the album with a song that reads like a voicemail is the best idea she’s ever had. And it works. She writes, she studies, she lets the label convince her she’s ready to put out a single, she lets the label talk to her about performances that can work around her school schedule, she puts out a music video, she gets invited to perform the song in an award show and she doesn’t crack. Sure, she picks up the phone to call Calum every time anything happens, she types and deletes texts, she stalks his Instagram, but she doesn’t actually try to reach him. Not once. She would be proud of herself if every song she wrote wasn’t about him, if he wasn’t always running around in her mind. Not that she could really remember a day where he wasn’t in the background of her thoughts. Sure it was easier when they were teens and she could find a new boy to pretend to be obsessed over during recess and act like she never felt anything other than friendship towards Calum. But now? Now she couldn’t even look at someone else. And she tried. Going out and finding a body to get lost in. But everyone just felt wrong. She could still feel him under her skin all the time. And it didn’t help that not long after Calum left the “Calum Hood from 5 Seconds of Summer Spotted in LA with *insert the name of the woman Lena refused to learn here*” headlines started to appear on her phone. She just wants to stop feeling this way.

But every bad day, every thought, every song, couldn’t make her feel as bad as she’s feeling right now, static ringing in her ears, as she walks back to the dressing room.

"Fuck, I can't do this," Lena’s properly panicking. She had never felt this nervous before in her life. Sure, she agrees to do one performance because it wouldn't mess with her school schedule and he's there. She should've seen that one coming, the universe seemed to have a sick sense of humor when it comes to her.

"Le, it's okay, the rehearsal was great," Andy says, thinking it can help calm her down, watching as she’s almost hyperventilating when she sits in the chair and drops her forehead to the makeup counter.

"That's not why I can't do it," she groans when her breathing evens out and Andy moves closer to her, frowning.

"Then why?" He asks, narrowing his eyes.

“He’s here,” she chokes on her words and he stares at her in confusion.

“Who?”

"Calum, Calum's here," she screeches at him, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"And?"

"I can't do this, I can't sing a song I wrote about how I'm still in love with him with him sitting there somewhere."

"You can't be serious," he's looking at her like she's crazy and she can't help but kind of agree with it. It does sound crazy.

"I can't."

"Lena Alisson Summers you will not miss out on this because of him," he tells her and she feels the air escaping her again.

"Andy, I," she begins but he interrupts her.

"No, I've sat with you crying for weeks, we're writing a kick-ass album and you're going to go out there and you're going to sing that stupid single. I don't care that you haven't seen him since that day, I don't care that you're still in love with him, you worked too hard for this and he's not going to fuck this up," he pulls her up to her feet, forcing her to look at him.

"But," she tries again.

"No buts or I'll go out and I'll kick his butt like I've been wanting to do for months now," he tells her, narrowing his eyes and she starts laughing.

"Did you just say butt?" She asks in between breaths, laughing so much and he rolls his eyes.

"Whatever, I made you laugh," he shrugs.

"Thank you," she tells him, throwing her arms around his neck.

*****

“Shit,” Lena definitely should’ve seen that one coming. Of course, they would come to the after-party, why wouldn’t they come to the after-party? She was downing the, what shot was she in now? She had lost count after the 10th, or the 12th, or maybe the 15th, but she had just put the shot glass down when she heard Michael’s laughter, followed by Luke’s voice, and then her heart stopped when she heard Calum’s. And now she’s in flight mode, roaming the halls, mind hazy, looking for a place to hide. She pushes a door open, finds a room, and moves around blindly looking for somewhere to plug her phone. She plugs it and leans her forehead on the wall trying to get the world to stop spinning so fast.

"You okay?" Calum asked, turning his head at a weird angle so he could try to see Lena. She wasn't exactly thinking straight, she needed comfort and at that moment, that was Calum, so she had just walked into the room, made a straight line to him, who was standing there doing something she didn't bother to check, and leaned into to his back, her cheek against the soft cotton of his shirt and closed her eyes, breathing him in.

"I'm just so tired," she mumbled, and she felt more than heard the soft chuckle he let out. They'd been back out on tour for about a month now and it was killing her. Four concerts a week was not something she was handling well. She thought that the occasional recording session she had to do during the first leg of the tour was the worst it could get, but she was wrong. "How the hell have you managed to do this for years?"

"You get used to it," he shrugged and moved a hand to pat her head.

"I was in college, I stayed up for two whole days once and I wasn't as exhausted as I am right now," she said, letting her arms fall to his hips, leaning more heavily into him.

"Can I turn around? Or will you fall if I do that?"

"If I fall just leave me there, maybe I can take a nap," she joked, leaning back on her feet as he turned to face her. Not that she gave him the chance, she dropped back into him the second he stopped moving, her forehead against his chest and her arms wrapping around his waist, and he laughed, his chin resting on the top of her head and his arms wrapping around her.

"Lena, what the hell are you doing?" Something snaps Lena out of her daydream and for some reason, she had thought that in her state of intoxication Calum's voice wouldn't have any effect on her. Oh, was she wrong. Hidden between the bed and wall, and not sure how she got on the floor, she's happy she's sitting down because the sound still makes her knees weak and her heart speeds up, the sight of him standing by the end of the bed looking at her making her forget how to breathe. She’s just waiting for her phone to charge enough for her to get an uber and get out of there before he could find her, so she could avoid having to face him. Of course, she didn’t have that luck. He looks so good, with a black button-down shirt, and his hair looking longer, curlier even, and disheveled just the right amount for her to lose track of what she was planning to say. Why did he have to look so good it made her forget everything else all the time? It wasn't fair.

"I'm leaving," she mumbles, only thinking about how she needs to get away from him, pulling the charger out the wall, shoving it in her purse, and getting up on wobbly legs, holding on to the bed frame, before sitting down so she can take her heels off when she keeps feeling like she’s going to fall.

Calum watches as she gets up struggling to not help as she moves less than gracefully, her dress riding up her thighs and her phone and shoes hanging precariously on her hand, but being unable to not hold her up when she trips on her feet as she tries to walk around him. She pushes his hands away from her, looking up at him with glazed eyes, the hurt evident in the way they’re glistening as tears begin to form and he sighs. He had definitely never seen her that drunk before.

"And you're leaving how?" He asks, so softly her heart aches and she blinks a couple of times chasing the tears away.

"I'll get an Uber," she answers, her voice barely a whisper, walking away.

"Come on, love, you're too drunk, let me drive you," he pleads, turning around and grabbing her wrist to stop her from going further.

"Don't fucking call me that," she shakes her head, yanking her arm away and he frowns at her, looking puzzled at the sudden anger in the movement.

"What?"

"Love," she replies through gritted teeth, and his head dropped, "last time I saw you, you were making a point about how you were only using me, so you don't get to call me love."

"Lena, I," he pleads, looking back into her eyes, not knowing what to do about the hurt he’s seeing there.

"What? You're feeling lonely again? Or you're just upset you're seeing the damage you've done?" she barks, glaring at him and he takes a step back, pressing his lips together.

"That's not fair."

"Not fair? Oh, I'm sorry, the fact I have loved you for half my life and you were only using me because I was there is not fair to you?" She snaps at him, stepping closer to him and staring him down as he opens and closes his mouth looking for an answer.

"I-" he starts but doesn’t finish, his shoulders falling and looking helplessly at her.

"You what? Huh?" She barks at him, the anger in her voice not replacing the hurt in her eyes, "You what? You're sorry? You didn't mean it?” She feels the fight slipping away from her, looking up at him she wants to hug him just as much as she wants to punch him, maybe more. “What the fuck do you have to say to me, Calum?" Her voice cracks saying his name, and he tilts his head, looking sadly at her.

"I just wanna make sure you get home safe," he tells her, and she purses her lips, feeling defeated as she nods at his words.

"And I don't want anything from you," she says, walking away and ignoring as he calls her name, going down the hall and the stairs as steadily and as fast as she could.

'Lena, wait," she’s already out the door and is standing on the porch waiting for the phone to turn back on when Calum snatches it from her hands.

"What?" She snaps at him, trying to grab the phone back and he holds it out of her reach.

"Let me drive you," he pleads and she groans.

"No, now give it back," she reaches for the phone again and he moves it to his other hand.

"Please."

"No!” She all but screams at him, but he continues to look at her with pleading eyes.

“Lena,” he starts, but she interrupts him.

“Stop, just leave me alone, I don’t want to see you, or talk to you, or let you drive me, I don’t fucking need your pity, just leave me the fuck alo-" she’s getting worked up and she desperately wants him to stop looking at her like that when she gets cut out.

"Are you guys okay?" Michael asks, emerging through the door, looking between them, and Lena groans.

"I just wanna go home, but he won't let me just get a fucking uber," she complains, taking advantage of the fact that Calum’s distracted looking at Michael to take her phone back.

They seem to have some sort of telepathic communication going on because Michael nods slightly at Calum, whose shoulders visibly relaxed, the pleading look in his eyes being directed to the floor when Michael speaks.

"I can take you," he offers and Lena sighs.

"No, Mike, it's fine, there's no," she starts to brush it off but he interrupts her.

"No, no, I insist, come on," Michael says, throwing an arm around her shoulder, taking her shoes from her with his other hand. Lena looks back at Calum and watches as he mouths a "thank you," and Michael nods again before guiding them away.

_____

It probably sounds crazy but Lena feels him before she sees him. She feels the pull that used to make her feel warm inside and she gives into it before she could realize what she's doing. She's in an event she doesn't want to be in. Her heels are hurting her feet and her dress is itchy and uncomfortable and she's alone. Sometimes she wondered if the reason Andy didn't want to start a band was to avoid this side of the obligations. If it's just her name on the poster then he can get out of anything he doesn't feel like doing.

That means she has no one to stop her from slowly turning, looking around from her place by the bar in the back of the very expensively decorated room, and spotting Calum and Ashton shaking the hand of one of the many executives in that place.

She giggles to herself at how their button-down shirts matched, Ashton's white with black stripes and Calum's black with white stripes, before she fully registers Calum's outfit. She doesn't know if she absolutely loves or hates whoever is responsible for the suit he's wearing, the jacket fitting just right and the shirt with just enough open buttons so that he looks casual but put together, making her breath get caught in the throat and she needs to press her lips together to stop her jaw from dropping. That outfit was a far cry from the cutout band tees and flannels and it was bad for her health. He has a new haircut too, shorter on the sides and straight all around. Yeah, she's definitely not over him. She turns around before she can get caught staring and asks for a refill when someone says her name.

"Ash, hi," she screeches, before clearing her throat and awkwardly giving him a hug when he steps closer to her.

"It's been a while, how have you been?" He asks, leaning his hip into the bar beside her.

"Okay, busy, you?" She manages to answer, kicking herself internally for not being able to form a full sentence, and he raises an eyebrow at her.

"I've been great," he replies when the bartender slides Lena a new glass, "what are you drinking?" He asks, casually, and suddenly she's struggling to figure out why she feels so awkward.

"Just coke," she chuckles, "I have a final tomorrow. The last one," she adds when he gives a questioning look, "a final final. That's a weird sentence," she frowns at her own words and he smiles at her.

"So you're done with school?" He asks and she nods, sipping her drink. She knows he's probably fishing for information but she doesn't mind, she's too uncomfortable there to not appreciate his friendly face.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"And how's the album coming along? I liked the singles so far," he gives her a knowing look and she rubs her neck. She had put out 2 songs already and the label wanted to set a release date for the full album soon.

"They're trying to convince me it's done, but I feel like something is missing," she tells him. No one really understood why she wasn't fully happy with what she had yet, but Ashton seems to get it, nodding slightly.

"You'll find it," he tells her and she nods.

"How's the hiatus going? Already climbing up the walls because you need to make music?" She jokes and he chuckles.

"Yeah, I don't think I need any more downtime."

"I figured," she smiles and he points behind him from above his shoulder.

"I have to go back now, but it was great seeing you."

"Yeah, it really was."

"I'll see you around then," he winks at her and she smiles while nodding as he walks away.

She's still feeling awkward, moving around the room, greeting people she thinks she's supposed to know. She honestly can't remember. She's just wandering around waiting until she's been there long enough so she can leave. Maybe that's why she ends up in a corner with Calum standing in front of her.

"Lena," he greets her and she's too in her head to do anything other than just stand there, staring at him and letting the smell of his cologne invade her nostrils while he studies her. God, she misses him.

"Calum," she breathes when she finds her voice, after a moment where they just looked at each other, "I gotta go," she tells him, trying to move around her but he steps in front of her, grabbing her arm.

"Wait," he tells her and she sighs, stopping and looking into his eyes, while his gaze drops to her wrist. She pulls her arm away, but he just keeps looking at it. Or more exactly, looking at the bracelet hanging there.

"Love, can we-" Calum called Lena, motioning to the side of the room. She frowned at him but nodded and he moved to the corner he pointed at, with her following.

"Something's wrong?" She asked when he stopped. He was making her anxious. To be fair she had been anxious since he told her, practically bouncing with excitement, about how he got into the football training thing. In Brazil. She hoped she looked excited for him. Because she was. She just didn't want him to go away for a full month.

"Nothing is wrong, I just got you something," he told her, pulling a little box out of his pocket.

"Why did you get me something?" She asked, accepting the box, but looking at him with confusion.

"You know why," he shrugged, and she nodded. She did know. He'd leave for Brazil soon and that meant he'd miss her birthday. "Just open it."

She smiled at him and then down at the box in her hand, pulling the lid out and finding a silver chain bracelet with an acoustic guitar charm. She'd been learning how to play and she felt her heart swell with affection towards him.

"It's amazing, thank you, I'll never take it off," she promised, pulling it out of the box and putting the box in her pocket. She struggled with the clasps for a few seconds before looking at Calum, who was watching her, amused. "Can you help me?" She pouted, reaching her wrist for him, who clasped it easily.

"There," he said, fixing the charm and her smile was so big her cheeks hurt.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she chanted, throwing her arms around his neck.

"What?" She asks when he doesn't do anything else, and that seems to snap him out of the trance he's in when he shakes his head and looks back up at her face.

"I didn't plan this far ahead," he tells her rubbing his neck and she makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and snort and looks at him with disbelief.

"What?"

"I didn't think you'd actually listen to me," he explains and she cocks her head, furrowing her eyebrows, trying not to laugh at the situation.

"Right, I'm gonna go then," she moves around him and he turns around following her movements.

"Lena," he tries again and she stops, turning to him.

"Yes?" She asks, sounding more annoyed than she actually feels.

"I miss you," he finally says and she stands there, looking at him watching her with anxious eyes and she purses her lips, nodding slightly and sadly as she sighs.

"Yeah, me too," she tells him, turning around to leave for real this time. And as she's walking away she's not sure if she meant that she misses him or if she just misses her old self.

___________

I don't have a tag list but you read this and feel like reading the rest when i get to it, feel free to hit me up and i'll tag in the next part.

[lunar-wandering]

me? making my own Monkie Kid roleswap/personality swap AU??? haha, no way.....unless-

anyways I do not have a name for this AU yet but I do have content lets go-

---

- Red Son runs a coffee shop, and befriends literally every person that enters the building. (his parents support this endeavor and supply him with money.) *gives him a light green jacket instead of a red one. hksdfjsfkjs he got them christmas tree vibes-*

- MK started working part time in Red’s coffee shop about 2 months ago, and has been shyly starting to warm up to being Red Son and Mei’s friend. *light lavender jacket + yellow headband*

- Mei doesn’t have a motorbike, because she’s trying to separate herself from her parent’s money. She just has a normal bike instead. *SOFT PINK JACKET TO LIGHTLY CONTRAST WITH THE GREEN IN HER HAIR HELL YEAH-*

- Mei and Red Son have known each other for a while, and they’re both doing a kinda.. vigilante thing together, defeating rogue demons... while also protecting the Monkey King’s staff from being taken, as it currently seals the White Bone Spirit.

- Mei tends to do most of the heroing stuff, while Red Son does more of the tech stuff. Red built Mei’s hero suit and gadgets, he very rarely actually goes out and fights himself.

- Sandy is the one who actually owns the building Red’s coffee shop (and secret underground hero lab) is in, and supports them in their efforts. He treats their injuries if needed.

- MK has no idea about any of this.

- MK lives with Tang and Pigsy, who are both history professors at the local university. Pigsy sometimes drops by the coffee shop to tell a story or two, Tang is typically too busy working to come along.

- one day, Mei and Red Son get a notification that “Monkey King’s staff has been pulled” and they’re both like “uh, thats probably not good” and then they show up at the location, to find the WBS is already gone and-

- MK is there. holding the staff.

- Mei: what do you have?!

  MK: ......Monkey King’s Staff.....

  Mei: NO!

  Red Son: oh my gods, why does he have Monkey King’s staff-

- “it uh..... it felt like the staff was calling me” “that is NOT a good reason to pick up an IMMENSELY POWERFUL ITEM”

- MK: so like....where you ever going to tell me you two are heroes?

  Mei: we’ve literally tried to on multiple occasions. you kept leaving before we could tell you.

 MK, remembering all the times they looked like they wanted to have a serious conversation so he got nervous and made up an excuse and left: ha ha... i don’t know what you’re talking about

- when they bring up this problem to Sandy, he just sighs and goes “i figured this would happen eventually....guess we gotta go see my brother”

- they dont even manage to make it to the mountain because Wukong bursts into the room like “which one of you fuckers lifted the staff. you? alright, you’re my successor now you bitch.”

- Wukong’s reason for wanting a successor? “hey, it means i can just sit back and relax for once and not do anything instead of fighting all those fucking demons. wait, what do you mean i have to train him-”

- Wukong is forced by literally everyone else into training MK. he’s not happy about it but begrudgingly accepts the responsibility.

- Wukong: aren’t you tired of being nice? dont you just wanna go apeshit?

   MK: not really no

- Wukong tries not to get attached but oh fuck he mentally considers MK as his son now-

- Red Son: its nice to see that yet another person cares about MK

  Wukong: *(offended sputtering)* wh- i do n- I don’t care about anybody. In fact, I care about nobody.

  Red Son, to MK: so when were you going to tell me you changed your name to Nobody-

- Pigsy and Tang refer MK to a therapist. It’s Macaque. Macaque is a therapist. yes this decision is 100% purely because i think it’s funny.

- MK: Macaque you will not believe what happened today

  Macaque, pulling out his note book and sipping on a black coffee: tell me all about it.

  MK: I’ve become the Monkey King’s successor-

 Macaque: you’ve wHAT

- Macaque, breaking down Wukong’s door: were you going to tell me you adopted a kid, or was I just supposed to find that out by myself

 Wukong: I did not adopt MK! geez, why does everyone keep saying that....

 Macaque: I never said which kid it was.

- Macaque goes HOG WILD with this information, and this is how MK finds out that. oh. his therapist Macaque is THE Macaque. interesting.

- Macaque stops by the coffee shop a few days after this discovery like;

  Macaque: hey, do you kids want to hear some embarrassing stories about Wukong?

 MK: i mean, that might be kinda rude-

 Mei and Red Son: yes, we absolutely want to hear them, please tell us all of them

- Pigsy and Macaque take turns telling stories about Wukong, and when Wukong inevitably walks in on them doing so he grabs the item closest to him (a salt shaker) and just chucks it at them. Pigsy takes that as his cue to leave while Wukong proceeds to chase Macaque around the coffee shop.

- Wukong: *(teases MK a little too much)*

  MK: *(looks like he’s about to cry)*

  Wukong: oh gods, oh fuck, shit, jeez, come on kid don’t cry, oh no, hold on-

- if MK actually does start crying Wukong starts crying too and its like;

  MK: WHY ARE YOU ALSO CRYING?

  Wukong: I don’t know- I mean, I’m not crying.

- forgot to say this earlier but MK gets brought into Mei and Red Son’s little heroing gig! Red Son designs a costume for him and everything. (Not that MK ever actually remembers to wear it....)

- MK never actually talks about what really happened the night he pulled the staff, accidentally freeing the White Bone Spirit. If asked, he laughs nervously and changes the subject.

- at some point, this happens.

  WBS: I brought the boy to his destiny.

  Red Son: you fucked up a perfectly good MK is what you did. look at him. he’s got anxiety.