#but I’ll figure it out on the day of the concert fear not

[bvidzsoo]

So, hello, my lovelies…I have something for you that might interest you ahahaha. I’m dropping an outfit check for the concert and my nails ‘cuz my manicurist really outdid herself once again😭🫶🏻

Ignore me grimacing for almost every pic LMAO, I can’t take a normal one for the life of me…had to Yeehaw that last one cuz it wasn’t giving AHAHAHA

Up close cuz the belt is TOO pretty and my sheriff badge is close in colour with my top so it might not be visible lol

[biffhofosho]

Hot Girls _____ | Chapter One

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Technically a slow-burn romance

Pairing: Changkyun x OC

Chapter Word Count: 7.4k

Trope: Friends to fuckbuddies to lovers

The Vibe: Cute girl who wants to feel hot, fuckboi best friend who wants to help because he’s a loyal bestie, sexuality mentorship lolwut, makeover tropes, booze, parties, jealousy, overprotectiveness, sexting, lots of praise with the intent on corruption (in an empowering way?) eheh, ill-fated friends with benefits agreement, best laid plans falling apart as they do, everyone figuring out their shit for the best

Synopsis: Her whole life, Vi’s been known as the cute one, the cherub-cheeked sweetheart who’s got it all together. She’s a good girl, but that doesn’t mean she wants to be, especially when she keeps losing out to the bad ones.

Vi’s best friend, Changkyun, however, is hardly a saint. He’s a consumer of hot girls, chronically unattached and comfortable that way. If anybody knows how to help Vi step out of her shell and take back her confidence, it’s him. It’s a good thing she can always count on her Kyun to step up to the plate.

A/N: Inadvertently wrote myself into another multichapter fic the second I got the Kyun 1st Lookmagazine in my hands. I'll think about that magazine until the day I die, whew. The fuckboi realness was too strong, and I am far too weak. And we already know I can’t fight the best friends to lovers trope, so here we are again.

I really wanted to get this first chapter out on my birthday, but I've had two terrible weeks in a row that just sucked the life out of me, and it's the high season at work, so it's been crushing. I couldn't even be bothered to make a cute banner for this; however, I was NOT going to put this off anymore.

I'll also be posting the first chapter of something else in the near future (so long as there are no more dastardly interuptions. Hope y'all are getting a chance to see Kyun in concert. I'm too much of a chicken to go, but my friends who have said it was incredible. What a man!

Cvr | 01 | 02 |

Chapter One

It all came down to today.

Vi reapplied her lip gloss, slid her glasses to the bridge of her nose, fluffed out her curly bob, and smoothed the pleats in her skirt one final time. In the company award showcase, she glanced at her ginger complexion dusted liberally with espresso freckles and took a deep breath.

You can do this, Vi. This is what you’ve been working toward for months.

Steeling herself, she turned the corner into Henry’s office. Her coworker looked up from his desk and beamed. “Hey, you. Looking cute today, I see.”

Normally, “cute” was Vi’s most feared word, but coming from Henry, she didn’t mind. “Thanks…”

“I was just thinking about you.”

“You were?” she asked giddily.

“Yeah. Want to go to lunch today?”

“That sounds awesome. When do you want to go?”

Henry glanced at the clock on his monitor and popped an eyebrow. “Five minutes?”

Vi bit her lip to cover her excessive smile. “Yeah, okay, I’ll just get my bag.”

“Meet you downstairs then.”

Despite the fact that Henry hadn’t walked her to her desk, he had asked her to lunch—for the first time ever. Chiseled, square-jawed Henry Williams. Broad, stacked Henry Williams. Tall, honey-voiced Henry Williams. Was. Taking. Viola Flowers. To lunch. She had gone to his office to ask him out, but, miracle of miracles, he had asked her instead. Nothing could touch her now.

Vi grabbed her crocheted cross-body and bounded down the steps to the lobby, where, true to form, Henry waited. His hands were stuffed in his suit pockets, and her brain turned to mush at the sight. She was lucky she remembered how to walk in her platforms because the moment he flashed his cool guy smile at her, the one that rounded out his stubbly jaw, her heart skipped as hard as her toe across the floor.

“You’re fast,” he observed.

“I’m excited.” When her words made it to her ears, heat flooded Vi’s body. “You know me. I love lunch.”

I love lunch? she lamented internally. Gross, Vi. Seriously gross. Ugh.

“Where do you want to go?” she pressed.

Henry craned his head to peer at the sky through the storefront and suggested, “Looks pretty nice out. Want to just walk to the taco truck around the corner?”

She did not. How on earth could she eat a taco and still look attractive? Besides, food trucks didn’t have tables, and she really wanted to share a table with him; staring straight into those deep-as-night eyes would be a dream come true. But Vi said none of that. She couldn’t risk turning him down and losing out on their first-ever lunch, not after investing nearly half a year into her fishing campaign.

“Okay,” she answered.

“Cool. Then we can just grab a seat under a tree or something. Looks like there’s some benches around.”

Vi smiled. Okay, this was better than she’d hoped. Side by side? She could find a way to brush her leg against his. Maybe he’d look down at her bare knee. Maybe he’d accidentally graze it. She was getting ahead of herself, but maybe he’d yank her into the supply closet and pin her up against the door…

Her throat was already closing up at the thought.

“You’re up. Whatever you want, I’m buying,” said Henry with a gentle bump to her shoulder.

Vi didn’t even remember walking to the truck, but it was already her turn to order. On the off chance that the supply closet was in her near future, she ordered a simple quesadilla, though Henry seemed totally unconcerned with such pretenses judging by his extra onions carne asada.

Once they had their lunch, they found a bench under a tree around the corner where the shade was just right to block the noon sun. A few other coworkers buzzed by with waves for them, but Vi was happy to note that she had Henry totally to herself. They chatted through their first bites before he downed his final taco in one big chomp.

“Okay, I can’t wait anymore,” said Henry the second he swallowed. “I know you’re still eating, but I have to ask you something.”

Vi blinked at him, and her oversized eyes had never been bigger.

Henry laughed. “Relax. It’s a good thing—no, a great thing, even.”

She gulped down her bite and smoothed the edges of her skirt as she gnawed on her bottom lip. It took her a second to calm the jumping beans in her stomach, but Vi said, “What’s up?”

“You know, I mean I think you know, that you’re my best friend in the office, right?”

“Oh, um, cool. For sure,” she mumbled as she brushed her buoyant curls forward to hide the nervous expression on her face. “You’re mine, too.”

“Which is why I trust you more than anyone else here. I know you’re a few years younger than I am, but I swear you know more about everything than I do, and you’d never steer me wrong.”

Vi’s excitement fumbled for a minute though she clung as best she could to it. “I try. What’s going on?”

Henry squared up to her then, and at last, her fantasy seemed within her reach. When he swiveled, his knees bumped hers, and he patted the swath of her bare thigh apologetically, sending a rush through her body like someone had blown a huge head of dandelion seeds along her skin. He leaned in a little closer with a dopey grin. He rubbed a hand on the back of his head as his coffee skin glowed in the filtered sunlight.

Here it was, Vi’s favorite trait of his. Henry might be menacingly hot, but he was also a geek at heart, so after he railed into her, she pictured them drifting off to some anime in the background.

Henry cleared his throat. “How soon is too soon to call someone after hooking up?”

What was left of Vi’s quesadilla slipped off her lap and tumbled upside down on the sidewalk. She was too stunned by his question though to pay attention to it.

“What?” she managed through a slack jaw.

Henry glanced at her food and frowned. Since she didn’t make a move for it, he picked it back up and put it between them on the bench. “Uh, Desiree and I hooked up last night, and even though I know you’re not a hook-up kind of girl, you are a girl and I trust you. I’m sure your friends have talked about this kind of stuff before, so you would have the inside track. I mean, I definitely want to hook up again, but isn’t it, like, sending the wrong kind of signal if I ask her to meet up again already? I mean, it’s not like either of us want a relationship, so I don’t want to scare her off.”

“You and Desiree hooked up?” Vi asked hollowly.

She pictured their other coworker, a bombshell of a woman if Vi had ever seen one in real life. Desiree was one of the company’s lawyers on staff, who was very successful at what she did, though Vi was sure that was due at least in part to the fact that she was so attractive, it made people want to give in to her regardless of their legal arguments. Desiree was tall and slender, with sleek ironed hair to the small of her back, which she always flaunted at the exact right moment with a full-body twirl to swing it over her shoulder. She was never without a pair of stilettos, a pencil skirt, and her signature ruby lipstick that made her warm nutmeg skin shimmer.

In one fell swoop, Vi had been ground to a pulp under the other woman’s pointed heel, and she wasn’t even here.

“Yeah, finally,” Henry beamed again, “after, what? The sixth time I asked?”

“I didn’t know you were into her…”

“Isn’t everybody?” he laughed. “She’s crazy hot.”

Vi did her best to keep her voice measured. “But you don’t want to date her?”

Henry shrugged. “I don’t want to date anyone. Too much baggage, I guess. This is so much easier. No feelings, no problems. Just fun, you know?”

She let out a long breath and sagged with it. “Yeah, I know. That’s sort of my best friend’s M.O., too.”

“See? I knew you’d know what to do. So, how soon is too soon?”

Vi pictured Changkyun now. Like Desiree, he was irresistible. With his black hair long enough to tie up in a little ponytail and sharp chin and even sharper cheeks, he cut an imposing figure, especially when he was sporting his favorite leather jacket and cologne. Vi called him catnip for women, and he never argued. He went through them like bottles of wine—savored for a night and tossed aside. The feminist side of her had, at times, wanted to be angry about it, but she’d never met one of his girls who had a complaint. Besides, the girls knew what they would be getting out of their night with him. Vi had always been the perennially out-of-touch one.

She toyed with the hem of her skirt as she answered, “I don’t think he ever repeats hookups honestly, so I don’t think he ever calls any of them back. I guess I’d say wait a few days though because, you’re right, if it were me and you hit me up the next day, I’d think you really liked me.”

Vi couldn’t help the stiffness in her voice, but Henry didn’t seem to notice. He was listening to her words, not to her, and nodding along.

“That’s what I thought. Is it okay if I ask her closer to the weekend? She’s not going to think that’s a date since it’s the weekend, right?”

“I don’t know, Henry. For someone who wanted something simple, you’re sure making this complicated.”

Her coworker did a double take at the barb in Vi’s tone, his full brows raised high. “Whoa, you okay?”

“Fine.”

Henry eyed her but said, “I get it. You’re right. I should just roll with it. Who knows? Maybe she’ll come to me.”

“Maybe.”

Vi stood and walked her quesadilla to the garbage can as he called, “Going in already? We still have twenty minutes?”

“Yeah, my lunch is ruined anyway. Thanks for paying. I’ll get you back someday.”

“You don’t need to—”

But she waved him off. “That’s what friends do. I’ll see you inside?”

Henry nodded slowly. He was obviously confused, but Vi needed to get back to her office before the sun exposed the heartbreak lurking under her skin.

“Sorry, I’m late,” came the cool voice as the door to her apartment opened and shut. “Work ran over, but I stopped by the liquor store to make up for it. How'd it go with Henry?”

Changkyun turned toward the kitchen and sighed.

“Oh shit. The depression hoodie.”

Vi slouched at her breakfast bar, wrapped up in her oversized Eeyore hoodie, the hood itself cinched tightly around her cherub face with its yarn mane fluttering every time the oscillating fan craned its head her way. She looked up at her best friend from under the curtain of her curls and pouted her bottom lip.

“Hey,” she said pitifully.

“Hey. You okay?”

“I’m okay.”

Changkyun pulled out a stool opposite hers and sat down, his eyes trained carefully on her.

“So…” he said. “I'm a little confused.”

Vi rolled her head on her hands to stare at him. “Why are you confused?”

“I thought that you said this guy was smart? Like, some big-time analyst or something.”

“He's both.”

“Well, he can't be that smart if he rejected you.”

“He didn't reject me,” she grumbled. “At least, he didn't know he did. He asked me to lunch just so he could get advice from his ‘cute’ office buddy about his ‘hot’ office hook-up.”

“Come again?” Changkyun said as he glared into space.

Vi sighed. “Seems he’s taking a page out of the Im Changkyun Friday-night playbook—fun and done. Well, maybe not quite. He wanted to know how soon is too soon to make another booty call.”

“Hey, you know that’s not my playbook. Repeats are too complicated. This idiot just wants— You know what? Fuck him.”

Her head sank to the counter, where her forehead rocked against the cold laminate.

That’s what I was trying to do, she grumbled to herself.

“At least I was psychic enough to grab your favorite booze on my way over.” Her best friend thumped a bottle of peach schnapps on the counter and petted the mane on her hoodie encouragingly.

She sighed resignedly. “See? You knew I was doomed to failure.”

“Oh, knock it off, Viola. Now, we're going to drink this together, and we're going to toast to Henry's inevitable STD.”

At this, Vi shot back up. “Kyun!”

Her friend just shrugged a shoulder along with an eyebrow as he rooted through the cabinet over the refrigerator and pulled out two shot glasses. Liquor sloshed in the cups as the smell of boozy peaches tickled their nostrils.

“Down the hatch, Flowers,” he instructed, and together, they tossed back their first shot.

The liquor burned a little though the sweetness dulled that quite a bit, and not a second later, Vi shoved the shot glass across for a refill. The second shot went down even easier than the first, and by the third, it was just like taking shots of juice except she could wallow less.

“In retrospect,” she said as she scrounged through her cupboard for something salty to snack on, “shy librarian was maybe the wrong way to approach a guy these days.”

Changkyun’s brow scrunched. “What’s wrong with a shy librarian?”

“Nothing. She’s just not the girl who catches the attention. We’re living in the era of Instagram models. A guy like you is not taking a girl like me home. I have to face that.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he challenged, “and I resent it.”

“I love you, Kyun, and you can resent it all you want, but I have never seen you with a shy librarian on your arm.”

He scowled, but he couldn’t argue because facts were facts. “That’s not because I don’t find them attractive.”

“No, it’s because you assume they all want to tie you down. Sometimes we just want to get railed.”

Changkyun nearly spit his drink across the counter, but instead, he choked it down and finished out a coughing fit. Between wheezes, he managed, “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m tired of being the cute girl that has to settle for vanilla sex in a long-term relationship. I’ve had plenty of that, and it was fine for a while, but maybe I want some meaningless hot sex, too. Why not? I’m single.”

“No, I know that, but—”

“See? I can tell from that ‘but’ that you would never expect a 'cute' girl like me to want something like that. Cute girls like fuzzy sweaters and stuffed animals and those teeny little pastries that you eat in one bite.”

“Okay, but you do like those things,” Changkyun reminded.

“Yeah, I know, but I also like sex, and I want more of it.”

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that my best friend since second grade, who once invited me to her My Little Pony party, oh, and made me wear matching onesie Christmas pajamas last year, wants a—” The bottom fell out in his voice and, despite his casual appearance and even more casual attitude to relationships, he whispered, “—fuck buddy?”

“Or a few one-night-stands. I’m not picky.”

Changkyun stared blankly across the counter. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“See? This is my point. No guy like you is going to even consider sleeping with me because you assume I’m going to bring the baggage of a relationship. Well, I want a break from that shit, too. This is where you come in.”

“Whoa, Viola, I know that—”

“Shut up for a second, would ya? I’m not trying to guilt you into sex, Kyun, but I do want your help.”

At this, her best friend cocked his head. “My help?”

She leaned across the counter and locked eyes with Changkyun. She could see his nerves in the hard press of his lips, but she knew he was the only guy she could trust with this, so she soldiered on, emboldened by a bad fucking day and good fucking alcohol. “You've done this a lot. This is your wheelhouse. Teach me, sempai. Show me how to be a hot girl.”

He sighed and rolled his head back. “Why do you want to be a quote-unquote hot girl, Viola? They're a dime a dozen.”

“Because hot girls get laid,” she said frankly.

Changkyun scoffed. “You’re not a virgin, and you’re hot as is.”

“You have to say that as my best friend, but also, you’re not trying to sleep with me. You and I are in two different leagues of attractive, Kyun. You’re made up of all kinds of sharp angles—you’re objectively hot. I’m a freaking circle. Don’t say it—don’t say it. I know I’m not ugly, okay, but the fact of the matter is I want to be less Shirley Temple and more Naomi Campbell. You can show me how! All you do is interact with people who ooze sexiness. So, just walk me through the things that clue you in that a girl just wants to sleep with you and we can move on.”

“I don’t think I’m comfortable with this,” he admitted.

“Because you think I’m a hopeless case?”

“Because I think you’ll get hurt.”

Vi’s apartment had never felt so quiet. It was like a vacuum, where all sound and light had been siphoned away. She felt the irrational urge to cry, but she wasn’t exactly sure why, and she pulled her hoodie tightly over her head again.

Changkyun frowned apologetically. “I’m worried you’re only saying this because you’re a little drunk and a lot hurt already. That’s a bad recipe to start making new life choices.”

“Thanks, Dr. Phil. It’s fine. Forget it. You don’t need to say anymore.”

But he refused to leave it at that. He laid his head on the counter so he was back in her sulky line-of-sight, and he smiled reassuringly. “I don’t think you’re a hopeless case, by the way. It’s just that you’re already so beautiful. You deserve more. I want more for you.”

“Okay, but you don’t get to make that decision for me, just like I can’t make you help me with this.”

Changkyun growled. “You're doing all this because of stupid Henry?”

“No!”

“Really? Because you’ve never said any of this stuff before today.”

Vi leapt up from her seat so she could lean back against the sink and stuff her arms across her chest. “Maybe I was embarrassed to, but after the humiliation I suffered this afternoon, I’m done caring about that. If everyone else can just go after what they want, why can’t I?”

“I get it. It’s just… What's so great about hot girls?”

“You tell me. You bed one a week.”

“‘Bed one?’” he laughed.

“You're only making my point. I’m hopeless without you, Kyun, see?” she whined. She darted back to the breakfast bar next to him as she sensed the first hint of caving.

“Viola, is this what you really want? Some guy who just sleeps with you and doesn't call you ever again?”

She ran her fingertip around the rim of her shot glass as she considered Changkyun’s words. “I know you think I’m just saying this because of today, but what do you think today was about in the first place? Yeah, maybe I had a crush on Henry first, and that’s probably the exact wrong way to start something casual, but it wasn’t like I wanted to marry the guy either. You know I've only done the committed thing. What’s so wrong with wanting to explore something new, especially when I see you having an endless good time?”

“It’s really not like that,” he asserted as he took another shot.

She waited for him to finish his thought, but, typical Changkyun, he held back the full breadth of his feelings, and even though Vi knew him better than anyone else, some days it felt like she only knew the tip of the iceberg.

“Yeah, I'm the guy you fuck, but I’m not the one you end up with. Just so we’re both clear, I know jack shit about love.”

“Exactly! You’re perfect. You know what guys like you are looking for. You can be my tutor and my wingman.”

“It’s just a little weird that I’m your best friend. My job has always been to keep you away from guys like me.”

“You’re doing a terrible job then, bestie,” she teased as she nudged his knuckles with her own.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, so for now, let’s just change our title to friends with benefits, okay?”

Changkyun rolled his eyes. “That’s not what that means.”

“I know. I’m trying to be clever.”

He stood up from the bar and waltzed into the living room, hands in his baggy jean pockets. Vi could tell from the way his iris tattoo flexed on his forearm that he was balling his fists, but at least he seemed to be taking her seriously. He paced behind the back of the couch before he leaned on it. His head whipped toward her as he said firmly, “If I do this, we need ground rules.”

“You got it, teach.”

Vi shucked off the Eeyore hoodie and tossed it on the counter as she raced into the kitchen and started rifling through her junk drawer.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Getting a pen and paper?”

Changkyun laughed. “Of course you are.”

“Hey, organization can be hot, too,” she objected. “And everybody likes a good listener, right?”

At this, her friend paused, stone still as he stared at her. Only when she waggled the pen at him did he blink and nod.

“You said I'm the expert,” Changkyun began, “so I expect you to listen to everything I have to say whether you want to hear it or not.”

Vi scrawled a quick note as she said, “You got it.”

“That means I go with you to clubs and bars when you want to meet guys so I can vet them.”

“Makes sense.”

“And if I don't get a good feeling about somebody you’re pursuing, you drop it instantly.”

“Fair enough.”

Changkyun cleared his throat to lift her attention from her notes. “Instantly, Viola. I mean it. I know how headstrong you can be when you think you're right, but I know the players and the game.”

“I know you do, and I’m not arguing, am I? See? Good listener.”

Again, he gave her a funny stare, and she felt that same sense that he was keeping things from her despite their current conversation.

But then he let out a breath and leaned forward, his hands falling to steady him on the back of the couch. “If you're uncomfortable with anything, you tell me. You don't have to do things just because you think it's what you think you should be doing.”

“I get how limits work, Kyun,” Vi said, a little annoyed, but he shook his head.

“I'm not just talking about bedroom stuff. If something doesn't feel like you, then I don't want you to do it.”

“I said okay…”

“I'm serious. Write it down. It’s the only way I'm agreeing to this.” Changkyun stared hard at her notepad until she finally got over her shock at his force and jotted his words down.

“I hear you, I hear you,” she grumbled.

“You trust me, right?” he asked with an intensity that Vi had rarely heard from him.

“Of course I trust you.”

There was a shift in the room now. Somehow, the temperature both seemed to plummet and soar at the same time, and Vi felt very disoriented. She was glad for the wall behind her or she might have tripped over nothing.

“Good. I want you to trust me enough to tell me absolutely everything,” said Changkyun. Despite how intimidating the man’s aura could be, right now, he was drawing her in closer and closer with those black hole eyes and bittersweet chocolatey voice. “I don't want you to be afraid to tell me all the things you want or like. You know me, I'm the last person in the world who would judge you, but that doesn’t mean it might not surprise me.”

“You mean like I already surprised you tonight?” Vi ribbed lightly.

“Yeah, but now that I know this is what you really want, I'm going to make sure you get it all.”

“Ah… Oh…” she fumbled and hoped she didn't give herself away at the unintentional innuendo. If she wanted him to take her seriously, she didn't want to look like a preteen in front of him. “Thanks, Kyunnie.”

He smirked. “You sure you want to give up your whole cute schtick? I’m pretty fond of it.”

“I mean, I don't have to give it up? I just want to shove it aside for a few hours while I get railed.”

That wiped the smirk right off his face. “How can I have known you my whole life and you still manage to have secrets?”

Vi shrugged. “Not going to lie, I kind of love the fact that my international man of mystery still thinks I can surprise him.”

Changkyun pressed his lips tightly and crossed his arms as he stared at her until sweat nearly started to bead at her brow. She had always trusted that he would help her, but the way he was examining her motives felt far too penetrating.

“We’re clear on the rules?” he said at last.

Vi nodded and showed them to him just to reiterate how seriously she was taking him. At this, he relaxed into his usual cool slouch.

“There’s one last thing,” he said.

She brought her pen up to the paper and waited eagerly.

“I don’t want this to come between our friendship.”

Instead of writing it down, Vi looked at Changkyun. He didn’t crack a smile or show even a hint of softness; he just met her gaze for gaze.

“Why would it?” she pressed.

“Things like sex usually do,” he said with a shrug of a shoulder.

“Yeah, but we’re not having sex…”

“I know.”

“So what are you worried about?” she asked.

“You,” replied Changkyun. “I’m always worried about you.”

Vi lowered her notes and came to sit beside her best friend on the back of the couch. Sincerely, she said, “And that’s why I knew I could trust you with this.”

“You can trust me with anything.”

“Because you’ll take care of me,” she finished with a smile.

“Because I’ll always take care of you.”

Changkyun’s words hung before he stood up, stuffed his hands back into his pockets, and headed back to the booze. He poured himself another shot and then one for her and brought it over. With glasses in hands, he raised his and said, “A toast to our unholy alliance.”

“To the new me,” she added. At this, he scowled, and Vi amended, “To a more adventurous me.”

“Better. I’ll drink to that.”

With another shot down, Vi felt the best she had all day. She let out a quick victory squeal before she announced, “I’m going to go get cozy real quick, then we'll dig in.”

“Already? You don't want to sleep on this first?”

“Carpe diem!” she called over her shoulder, and when she came back, she was cocooned in her favorite silk pajamas.

Vi crisscrossed her legs underneath her as she settled onto the sofa, notepad in her lap.

“Okay, since I’ve been thinking about this all afternoon, I’m going to grab the list I already came up with, and then the resident sex expert can chime in, ‘kay?”

Changkyun raised an eyebrow. “If I didn’t know any better, I might think I’ve been played.”

“So, maybe I’ve been thinking about this for a while more than I let on, but since everything went to absolute hell on my own, I had to fess up. And lucky for me, I have the greatest guy in the world for a friend.”

“A better friend would talk you out of this,” he objected.

“No way. You’re supporting me and backing me up? Best friend in the galaxy.”

“You don’t need to keep buttering me up. I already said yes.”

“Nah, I’m being serious, Kyun. Thank you.”

He nodded and emptied the last drops in his glass before he sidled up behind her on the couch and leaned over her shoulder.

Notepad still out, this time on the coffee table, Vi flipped back a page and stared at the list she had been jotting down the past week whenever the thoughts had occurred to her.

Hot girls:

Don't wear underwear

Don't wear glasses unless they're sunglasses

Flaunt their assets (short dresses, body-hugging, glitter???)

Get manicures

“Should I get hair extensions?” she pondered as she studied the bullet points.

“Absolutely not,” Changkyun said firmly.

“All the babes on Instagram have them.”

He sighed. “Long hair doesn't automatically make you hot, nor does any of this insanity you insisted on writing down.”

But her friend’s words barely registered as she scrunched the tips of her curls idly. “I feel like my bob says school girl or Karen or probably, definitely, librarian, and we all know I’m sick of that fate, so maybe?”

“I love your hair on you.”

At this, Vi lowered her pen. “Are you saying that as Kyun my best friend or Kyun the lady killer?”

“I'm saying it as a man to a woman. Don't change it unless you genuinely want to change it.”

“Maybe I should just stop wearing it curly then? Too Shirley Temple. Maybe I should iron it or something.”

Changkyun fell into silence back as he munched on a bag of snacks he’d pilfered from her cupboard. He stared off into space while her brow furrowed deeper and deeper.

“You’re supposed to be helping me,” Vi complained.

“What do you want me to add? You’ve vetoed everything I’ve said so far.”

“Exactly. So what does that tell you?”

Her best friend shot her a stern glare as he said, “That you’re awesome exactly the way you are?”

“I don’t just want to be awesome, Kyun. I want to be hot. I’m just going by the girls I’ve seen you take home. Don’t even try and pretend I’m just making this stuff up either. I do have eyes, sir.” She waggled her list at him, but he didn’t say anything. “Come on! Give me one thing you look for in a girl you just want to sleep with.”

Changkyun pressed his lips together as he considered. After a moment, he said, “The way she looks at me.”

At his first helpful answer, Vi sat forward, elbows on her now-pajamaed knees. “Ooh, how’s that?”

“I guess it’s kind of hard to describe. Each girl has her own way of doing it, but it all translates the same.”

He left it at that, and she growled. “And? What way is that!”

“I don’t know,” he said through a crunch of a cracker. “Like she wants to fuck me.”

Vi choked a little at his frank words, and she thumped her chest with her fist hoping to dislodge the knot there.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she wheezed and held a few deep breaths to right herself. “Just wasn’t expecting you to say it like that.”

“Hey, if you want to try casual sex, you’re going to have to get used to being direct about it.”

“Hm,” Vi considered as the wheels in her brain began to spin again.

This time, she wrote down “Serve sexy eyes” on the page and then tapped the pen against her lips before she added “Talk dirty” underneath.

“You’re pulling your weight at last, Kyun,” she said triumphantly. “Give me one more thing, and I’ll stop twisting your arm.”

Changkyun sighed in relief. “Perfect. Then I’ll say dancing. I narrow down my options from the way she moves her body. That tells me all I need to know.”

“Sexy mating dance, got it,” Vi repeated as she wrote it down.

Her best friend let out an incredulous laugh. “This is going to go over like a lead balloon.”

“Hey!”

“You’re the one who said it like we’re some nature doc or something. Looks like it’s going to be harder to shed your librarian alter ego than you think.”

Vi launched up from the couch and leaned on the counter shoulder-to-shoulder with Changkyun. “That’s why my best friend is going to Cyrano De Bergerac me through it.”

“Nerd.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stow the literary references for after the sex. I suppose they could be a mood killer in this particular scenario. So, let’s say I give them the right bedroom eyes and do the mating dance and then add the sexy, flirty talk to seal the deal. Do I bring them back here then, or…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Changkyun. “Walk before you run, okay?”

Vi shrugged. “It’s just, wouldn’t it make sense to bring them here? I’m in between roommates anyway, so I have the place to myself, and it wouldn’t bother any—”

This time, his hands clapped against the counter, and it resounded in the tiny living room. “Viola, you’re not bringing a strange guy home to an empty place.”

“Huh… Yeah, I didn’t think about that. So his place?”

“Shit. Okay, you’re already in high gear, and we’re not even out of the garage yet.” Changkyun yanked the notepad toward him and grumbled tightly as he scrawled each word, “Hot girls stay alert.”

Vi popped an eyebrow as she echoed the sentence. “Yeah, I don’t know if that's really a thing.”

“Well, it's about to be this hot girl’s thing,” he insisted. “You need to think with your head and not—”

“Not my downstairs, got it.”

Changkyun chuckled in spite of the serious turn in their planning.

“What about after a couple of hookups?” she asked, but he sighed.

“Again, you need to slow down. I don't think you want to jump headfirst into a fuck buddy relationship.”

“Why not? What if the sex is really good and we want to keep going?”

Changkyun shook his head. “You catch feelings way too easily, Flowers. No. No way. The point is sex, not strings, right?”

“Yeah, but what if it really is just mind-blowing sex with no strings?”

“Look, you said you wanted to feel hot and have fun. I'm going to make sure that happens, but if you're looking for something more to come out of it, I can't help you. The guys we’re looking at aren't going to be the kind of guys that I want you to repeat. My goal is to get you laid, not break your heart.”

“Okay, okay,” she said as she added a new note.

Keep it simple.

Changkyun glanced at it and gave a subtle nod. “Good. That one’s going to be tough for you.”

“You’re so wrong about that,” Vi challenged.

“How’s that? Even your pajamas require a Masters degree to put on or, more importantly, take off.” He gestured toward her two-piece set, the collared top featuring a full row of buttons and the matching bottoms tied with a quaint bow.

“What do you sleep in then, hot shot?”

Changkyun raised an eyebrow. “I sleep naked. Doesn’t get much simpler than that.”

The image hung, and Vi could feel her whole body heating.

“Fine, whatever. I’ll get new jammies, too, if it’ll make you happy.��

“I’m teasing you, Viola. I’m happy so long as you’re happy, Fort Knox pajamas or not,” he added with a hooked grin.

“Moving on!” she sang. “Back to these girls you take home. They probably know a lot of cool tricks and stuff, huh?”

“First of all, we don’t always make it back to a bedroom. Depends on the moment. You’ll get a sense pretty quickly where the night is heading one way or another, so just trust that feeling. Second, they’re not really tricks. It’s just… stuff you pick up from trying new things. If you’re feeling it, you can try it. A man worth your time is going to be open to experiencing them with you. You can just ask, and if he’s a dick about any of it, you can leave. If he gives you shit, you let me know. I’m already on your speed dial.”

Vi didn’t say anything and his eyes narrowed.

“Right?” he pressed.

She laughed. “Of course. You’re my first. Just don’t tell my mom.”

Changkyun softened and nodded once. “Okay, good.”

She smiled gently at her best friend before she turned back to her list to add one last item.

Try new positions in new places

When she was done, she studied it a few times over as she switched to pacing the living room.

“Okay, so looking at this, my plan of attack should be: new wardrobe, makeover, dirty talk lessons, and you should probably show me this fancy mating dance you mentioned. Ooh, do you think I should read the Kama Sutra, too?”

Changkyun laughed even as his head dropped into his hands. “You are going into this exactly like I thought you would. How about we just do a little at a time to ease you into all of this because, otherwise, it’s going to feel like you took a dive headfirst into an empty pool. I want to build your confidence naturally, okay? We’ll do it together like I promised.”

Vi nodded and practically collapsed under the relief she felt. It was overwhelming. Her whole life, despite her careful planning, she had taken everything two steps at a time, like running up stairs, but she’d also wiped out more than a few times that way. At least with her best friend by her side, he could catch her.

“Why don't you go shopping first for some new clothes. Buy something that makes you feel good.”

“Cool, okay. That's actually a really good idea. You can tell me what guys will find hot.”

But Changkyun shook his head. “Take Nijah or Tara.”

“No, Kyun. Come on. Nijah knits her own turtlenecks, and Tara is an actual librarian. I adore them, but they're not the people I want to go to for hot girl fashion advice. You are.” He considered for a moment, and Vi didn’t want to miss out on her chance, so she added with a soft smile, “I know you won't just tell me what I want to hear, but I also know that you'll hype me up better than anyone else could. If you want me to build confidence, I need my best, most trusted friend in the whole world. Besides, didn’t you just say we’d do things together? Pretty please?”

She batted her eyelashes cartoonishly, and, with a roll of his eyes, he caved. “Fine.”

“Ha ha, I knew it. You can never say no to me when I beg,” she gloated.

Changkyun nodded once and dropped his eyes to his lap. “As long as it’s for you and not just these dumb guys.”

“Man, Kyun, if you ever decide to wife up, women everywhere will cry themselves to sleep. They broke the mold with you.”

“You keep this up, and I’m going to get a big head.”

“That’s just another way of saying you like it.” He said nothing, and Vi reveled in her little triumph. “So when can you go shopping with me? Tomorrow after work?”

“Wow, how hard up are you?” he laughed.

She sneered at him, but it was true. It had been months and months since she’d gotten laid and even longer since she’d had an orgasm that wasn’t of her own making; she hadn’t been exaggerating about the boring sex. Someday she would find the guy she could have as much fun with outside of the bedroom as in it, but for now, she needed to break the dam of frustration and self-doubt so she could clear her head enough to focus on the other things.

“The sooner the better, hot shot,” she retorted.

“I can do tomorrow.”

“Sweet! I’ll google some trendy places.”

“Of course you will.”

But as Vi scrolled through search results on her phone, her friend shuffled around her apartment. He stuck his head into the spare room and mumbled, “I would feel better about all of this if you picked a damn roommate already.”

“Yeah, I know, but the last girl I interviewed gave off that party animal vibe, and even if I am looking to loosen up, I’m not losing my deposit. I did really like the guy though, but he said he won’t know if he can move in for a couple more weeks.”

“What guy?”

“You know him. Minhyuk’s cousin.”

Changkyun scowled as he leaned in the bedroom frame. “Isn’t he a lot older?”

Vi shrugged. “Not really. Like, five years. At least it sounds like he has his life together, which is more than I can say, so I think I’ll just wait to see if he can do it. I can afford another month here alone.”

“Are you sure? It’s Vancouver. There’s got to be lots of people looking.”

“Oh, yeah, there are, but I’m not rooming with someone I don’t vibe with.”

“And you vibe with this guy?”

Vi nodded as she jotted down a few store names on her list. “Yeah, he’s about as chill a guy as I’ve ever met, and he gives off that safe, responsible vibe. That’s who you want to room with, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Come to think of it, he might be the perfect roommate for me then. He’s big and sturdy-looking. Maybe he’ll be my bouncer,” she laughed.

Changkyun did not join her.

“If you want, I can ask him to come back and hang with us? It’s probably good anyway that you vibe with him, too, considering how much you’re here.”

Her friend shrugged a shoulder. “That’s okay. You’re right, I already know him.”

“Okay, cool then. I’ll give him the greenlight if he’s down. Man, I’m feeling doubly productive now. Checking all the things off my list! The next time Henry sees me, he’s not going to know what hit him.”

At this, Changkyun’s brow furrowed. “We’re not doing this because of that dickweed.”

“No! No way,” Vi assured. “But there’s nothing wrong with seeing a guy regret ignoring me, right?”

“Mm,” was all her friend said.

“So we’re on for tomorrow?”

“We are.”

“You staying the night tonight?” she asked.

Changkyun’s eyes darted to the spare room, but when he looked back, they were uncharacteristically flat. “I’ve got practice early. My show’s in just a couple weeks, and we can only meet a few times between now and then.”

“Okay,” Vi said cheerfully over her shoulder as she reviewed her notes. “So, you just tell me when you’re free.”

He was quiet for so long that she had to turn around to be sure he hadn’t left, but he was still there, leaning against the wall and staring out the window.

“Kyun?”

His eyes shifted to hers, and that weird little light he had inside switched back on. “I’ll call you before lunch. We’ll figure it out.”

“Cool. Then I’ll take you to dinner after to say thanks.”

From behind the soft, Changkyun leaned over and kissed the crown of her head. “Sounds good. I’m taking the booze, so you can’t get any ideas.”

“I don’t need it now. I have you.”

“Always,” he assured. “Lock the door behind me, all right?”

“Hot girls stay alert!” Vi shouted with a thumbs up, and her friend left a moment later.

When she got up to lock the door as promised, she caught a shadow through the peephole. Changkyun was still there, waiting in the middle of the hallway, though as soon as the click of the deadbolt thundered, he disappeared.

Vi smiled. They really had broken the mold with him.

[grumpygwen23]

Twenty One Pilots hot take this, Twenty One Pilots hot take that…I want to hear y’all’s Twenty One Pilots stories and journeys. Is this because I want to share mine? Yes. Is that self-indulgent? Yes, but who cares.

Listen. I started listening to Twenty One Pilots almost exactly 10 years ago, right before Blurryface came out. My first concert was at the Quiet is Violent tour and I’ll never forget the feeling. I was 16 and moody at the time and despite how much I loved Vessel, I was obsessed with Regional at Best, Self Titled, and best of all, No Phun Intended. At the time, it was at least partially a pride thing, preferring their earlier music, but more than anything those songs spoke to me in a way nothing else did.

I loved Blurryface when it came out, and when Stressed Out started playing on the radio, I’m still proud to say I didn’t jump on the “overhyped” train. Obviously I hadn’t been around since the beginning, so I had no claim on Twenty One Pilots in any way, but it was still exciting and I felt proud of “my boys” in a way every time I heard it on the radio.

I went to my second show on the Emotional Roadshow tour in early 2016, right before I graduated high school. At the end of the show, Tyler said “we made it, we survived,” and I’ve held onto that with a vice grip ever since.

I went to my third show on the Trench tour in 2018 in the cheapest seats possible. Literally my back was against a wall. But it was spiritual in a way no other show has been.

After Trench came out though, I lost track of the plot. I honestly haven’t listened hardly at all to Scaled and Icy or Clancy yet. I know it wasn’t for the reason of “they’re too big now” or “the music is too poppy” because I’m still proud of them and so glad that others have found meaning and purpose in their music. For a long time, I didn’t know why I didn’t get back on with their music. Hell, I could barely even relisten to the older stuff. And I couldn’t figure out why (and honestly, didn’t think about it much).

Until this past week. See, I got my younger brother and sister hooked on Twenty One Pilots when I was in high school/college. They just went to their first concert and I’m so happy that they got to experience that. My brother has been badgering me for the past year to get onto listening to the new music and for some reason there was a wall there.

But a couple of days ago I started back at the beginning and listened to No Phun Intended and Self Titled. And every single song brought me back to being 16 again. I haven’t felt so viscerally reminiscent? Healed? I don’t know how to describe it. But I realized why I couldn’t listen to them before. Because for so many years, I was still on the slow slope of getting better. Backsliding constantly and hating myself because it felt like every time I thought I was getting better, I was back to where I started. And those songs made me feel so heavily, that it was like I was back there again. And the new stuff, with the Clancy storyline, it felt like a transition to healing that I wasn’t ready for yet. I was stuck in between, not wanting to slide backwards and not ready to move forwards.

But I can listen to those songs again, and by god it made me cry. I listen to Goner and remember teaching it to myself on the piano and screaming the lyrics in an empty house. But I don’t feel gone anymore.

10 years ago, I listened to Friend, Please and sang it to myself in the mirror because I felt like I had no one to say those words to me except Tyler Joseph. Yesterday, I sang along to it and for the first time didn’t feel like I was begging myself.

9 years ago, I sang along to Fairly Local and was stuck in the first verse. Yesterday, I sang along to it and was able to sing the second verse and believe it the first time.

5 years ago, I got a tattoo with my younger sister that says “Peace will win, Fear will lose” in my handwriting and hers. Yesterday, I realized that peace really has won.

I’m still not perfect. I still struggle. But I’ve grown a lot, and Twenty One Pilots has been there the whole time, even when I couldn’t handle hearing it.

I’m not entirely sure what I’m trying to say here. But to whoever else has listened to Twenty One Pilots for years and is also on their healing journey, I love you. To whoever has just started listening to them and has found an outlet and a resonance during tough times, I love you. To everyone in between, I love you.

Now, I’m finally working my way through the albums and catching up with the storyline, and I’m excited to keep seeing this through to the end.

All that to say: we made it. We survived.

[razorblade180]

You had a post a little bit ago about how cool Weiss is in TSF. Do you have anything like that for the others in their respective verses?

I don’t want to make this post extremely long so I’ll only focus on Ruby for now in Rosebud

The repair woman and modifier for her friends’ weapons since RNJR. It helped take her mind off things. Eventually she made Jaune an engagement sword.

Doubled down on being proficient in weapons. Even before things got serious, Ruby wasn’t a total stranger to holding other weapons. Nothing feels completely foreign to use, especially swords. She can actually use all of her friends’ weapons.

Beat Salem at age 17. Kinda a big deal. Her favorite part about it is it gave her time to learn normal hobbies afterwards. She’s an awesome skateboarder

Her team actually defended Atlas but in the end it costed Oscar completely turning into Ozpin; kicking off a new and more aggressive drive in Ruby specifically.

Went to Vacou alone pretty upset after Atlas. She also had a pretty big argument with her team. Ultimately it became the catalyst for growth. Ruby was ahead of them for few months, learning how to take care of herself.

Rallied Vacou citizens to defend against early attacks from Salem. Ruby got really good earning the local’s respect through gritting her teeth and countless hand to hand bar fights. Gone were the days of not throwing punches, and she only got more phenomenal after reuniting with her sister.

Is responsible for low crime rate in Vacou. Especially kidnappings. The kingdom is actually considered one of the safest places in comparison to the others, despite keeping its rowdy nature.

Ruby is actually a professor at Beacon. Her classes aren’t every semester and her student count is rather small since she prefers helping talented people without focus, and struggling students who need a bit more guidance. She thinks both groups basically lack the same thing and that’s a certain level of ambition. It’s unspoken she’s most likely the next headmaster.

Actually gained more in common with Weiss after beating Salem. Ruby found the time to take more pride in her appearance and bonded over a bit of fashion. Who would’ve thought both of them would’ve won “world’s my stunning Huntress” awards. Ruby was just trying to look good for her wedding day.

Vacou authorities work closely with Ruby on a variety of projects. Especially after her daughter technically joined the forces in order to not get in trouble solving active crimes.

Organized crime fears Ruby Rose. Saving the world wasn’t the height of her achievements. She was nowhere near done growing in skill. Went around cleaning up mob bosses.

Learned to improve her semblance enough to appear in multiple spots. She’s also gotten good at intense short bursts of speed. Individual limbs are a little tricky and she sparingly does full body at max power because it could blow people away and hurt ears.

Her crowning achievement power wise is figuring out how to create a storm of petals so dense it can trap someone inside or hide in the petals.

All of Maria’s cooking and wisdom lives on with her. The old legend hated the idea of having a statue, but Ruby thought it was important for people to know there’s been amazing legends long before she beat Salem. There’s an entire town outside of Vacou dedicated to that woman with her former house on the outskirts. It has the loveliest blue flowers in the region.

As popular as she is, Ruby makes it a point to be seen often doing normal things. She’ll stand in line for concert tickets as if nobody knows who she is. You can catch her making a midnight fast food run in lounge wear. In her eyes, nothing much has changed about her so it’s up to the world how they choose to react to her presence. In most cases, she’s like the world’s coolest neighbor.

There’s a Penny built after Beacon with no memories of anything prior. Ruby chose to let her be, allowing the girl to live a relatively normal life. Every so often they cross paths and Ruby makes it point to ask if they need anything or how their life is going. She even gave the an anonymous wedding gift.

Taught her family and friends how to garden. And also like to foot the bill on hobby projects. She helped Yang and Blake build a ranch for their kid and Weiss make a school in Mantle. She also Ren and Nora establish their orphanage in Anima.

Rosebud Ruby is just a pretty cool gal and fun mom that’s fluent in violence. Idle hands are her worst enemy but turns out being a mother not only prevents that, but softened some of her rougher edges that put a strain on her relationships growing up.

[zoekeating]

Dear Listeners,

It’s winter break here in Vermont so my son and I have been out on the slopes every day. For many years I have stayed away from fast slidey sports because I was afraid of injuring my hands. If my hands don’t work, how do I make music? But among the many bits of advice I’ve gotten in my parenting journey, “be into what your kid is into” has been one of the best. My lad needed someone to ride the lifts with and I needed to overcome my fear and learn how to fall properly, so here I am.

I found that skiing is not all that different from rollerblading, which I learned to do in Central Park the summer of my junior year. I brought the skates with me on my year abroad in Florence. On weekends there was this amazing city to explore but buses and museums and cafes cost money. And whenever I roamed the quiet streets and parks alone, I would be perpetually harassed, groped and even flashed by pathetic men. But rollerblading was free and, bonus, I am already quite tall, so with skates I was at least 6ft2in. No one ever messed with me on skates. I adapted to the cobblestones and explored all of Florence with exhilarating freedom.

One Sunday, as I was enjoying the expanses of asphalt in Parco delle Cascine, I came upon a group of folks on old-school rollerskates. They had a boombox and were dancing, just like the skaters of Central Park but without the sequined hot pants. They waved me over and exclaimed over my weird skates. They invited me to join them and for the rest of the school year, I spent every Sunday afternoon I could with the rollerskaters. We would gather, dancing and skating around obstacles, and once we had critical mass, tear off along the Arno and into the old city. We’d skate past the David, circle the Piazza della Signoria multiple times and whizz down the marble collanade along the Piazza Republica, ending in a bar, still on skates, for an espresso or aperativo. Those are some of my best memories of my year in Florence.

I continued the skating when I moved to San Francisco, zooming most days through Golden Gate Park to the beach and back again. Sometimes I’d join a similar group of mad skaters on Friday nights to roll fearlessly down hills and through tunnels. Skating was always a great source of joy. But then I moved away from the paved environment of the city and I transitioned to music full time. After acquiring a broken finger from an Evil Door and being shocked at how much that tiny injury impacted my ability to play, I quit skating.

Fast forward to Vermont. Like many people did during the pandemic, I got back on skates except this time with padding, wrist guards and a helmet. And then, as my boy learned to snowboard, I learned to ski. We still ride the lifts together but now he zips down black diamond trails while I ski carefully down the easy ones. He is mystified as to how I can bear to do the same runs over and over but I like it that way. It’s like a meditation. I focus on perfecting my technique and try to make each turn better than the last. It feels similar to one of the things I enjoy about playing the cello, which is noticing tiny details and gradually polishing them. How can I improve this one phrase that I have played thousands of times? It never gets old or boring for me.

I hope it never gets boring for you either! Next week I’ll get back to work improving my old songs and figuring out to play some of my new ones in time for my concerts in March.

March 15 - ArtYard in Frenchtown,NJ

March 16 - Underground Arts in Philadelphia, PA opening up for my old friend The Sleepytime Gorilla Museum

March 17 - Le Poisson Rouge in NYC

March 21 - St John’s Cathedral at the Big Ears Festival in Knoxville, TN

And one more

April 6 - Unitarian Univeralist Church in Burlington VT, accompanied by mesmerizing visuals by Alex Reeves

also, outside my solo work on April 7 I’ll be a part of composer Randal Pierce’s ensemble, performing his live soundtrack to George Méliès’ silent cinematic masterpiece, A Trip to the Moon

6:30 and 8:30pm shows

More about all the events happening in Burlington around the eclipse

Thank you for listening and please wear a helmet when you are going fast.

celloly yours, Z

[culturalmochiart]

Your secret identity AU has plagued my mind so harshly-

I want so many details on it (also your art is fucking GORGEOUS and yummy)

~A-Anon

THANK YOU!!!!! OOOO okay okay umm hmmm

I haven’t drawn it in a while, admittedly but lemme try and write down the general timeline. It’ll get a bit long so I’ll do a read more PLUS there will be spoilers for the whole au down under :)

So it’s like pilots/season 1 era, after saving Nya, her and Kai go back to their shop, Jay lives with his parents, Zane stays at the monastery, and Cole probably camps around nearby since he can’t go home.

Zane is the first to reveal his identity, figuring he doesn’t remember anyone from his life, so he can’t put anyone in danger. Wu is a little annoyed his student disobeyed, but he sees Zane’s logic and knows he meant well. Things continue on, feelings start to develop, and the timeline starts to move.

The ninja will occasionally interact while in civvies, but again, they don’t know who is who so they interact differently than when under the mask. Kai thinks jay is annoying and doesn’t like him spending so much time around Nya but he LOVES blue and thinks his same jokes and mannerisms are silly. After the reveal of Zane, he starts tutoring Nya which Kai feels soooooo normal about. Jay goes from having a crush on Nya to becoming her best friend, as they have late night talks and both discover maybe they don’t feel romance in the typical way, and definitely not for each other. Poor Cole is just hanging out in the woods :(

Things skip to around Home and Snakebit, Zane finding the bounty is just as angsty but more so bc it’s stretched over a few days, and he misses his tutoring sessions with Nya which worries THE HELL out of all of them. Wu likely stays with Kai and Nya, Kai telling her his home burned down and he needs a place to stay for the moment. I imagine they see the falcon flying around and follow him to the bounty, where Zane is waiting with a meal for them :]

Jay is revealed next in snakebit! He’s a mamas boy and tells his parents everything, and they’re supportive!! So they don their most clever disguises and go for a visit!! They’re so excited to see their boy they call him by name, so oops!! They get to meet Jay AND his parents!! Kai breaks for a while bc the guy he likes is also the guy he dislikes, and he’s weird for a while until he notices Jay doing the same cute things he did as Blue and

When Jay visits Kai and Nya next, Kai is a lot more civil if not a little embarrassed.

In the snake king, Kai learns Nya is Samurai X, and she ALSO learns Kai is one of the ninja. He keeps the others’ identities secret because it’s not his place to tell her.

We eventually get to tick tock, Zane regains his memory and unlocks his true potential, but he’s a little more sad after, because now he knows theres no one out there looking for him. He falls into the comforting embrace of his teammates. In once bitten twice shy, instead of confessing to Nya, Jay confesses to Cole, Kai, and Zane. This is when they start dating!!

Cole is next!! He’s revealed during his true potential episode. Instead of having his teammates help him win the cup, he decides to go at it alone but in some way or another, the others decide to join in and help him win. Cole reveals himself backstage after the concert when he confronts his dad, and Pythor, seeing that one of the ninja’s parents is in the open and vulnerable, takes his chance to drop all of the equipment onto Cole and Lou. They’re okay of course, but it ended up being quite the scare.

Kai is last to his potential AND his reveal. He knows Nya is capable and that she can handle herself in danger, but the incident with Cole and his dad has him afraid for what Pythor could do to her, his only baby sister. He’s also nervous that if they knew the true him, they wouldn’t like him as much as they do now. All his fear causes him to distance himself from his boyfriends, he loves them deeply, but the danger of it all makes him question whether he should keep being a ninja. All the fear and doubt and his rush to reach his true potential is a very bad combo of feelings that culminate in the volcano with Lloyd.

He feels that he can prove himself worthy of being green ninja and that he’s good enough for his bf’s by getting the fangblade, bc if not for him being special, what the point of keeping him around? Idk it’s a lotta self doubt like in the actual show but gayer.

He hears Lloyd call out to him, realizes what’s truly important, and reaches his true potential. Everyone is waiting on the ship with bated breath as the volcano explodes, too shocked to feel any emotion at the moment. And then they emerge!! In a ball of fire, Kai and Lloyd land on the deck. Maybe the lava caught his mask, maybe his fire subconsciously burned it away, but Kai is revealed in all his blazing glory to the shock and awe of his boyfriends.

Lloyd runs to his dad, and Kai is dog piled by his boys, green ninja stuff happens, and that’s basically the end!! I’m sure I didn’t include every little detail but this is basically the gist!! :]

An older doodle for u too <3

[savebatsartedition]

Whumptober 2024 Day 3:

Summary:

Mike, Peter and Micky get a bit tied up. Oh, yeah, and there are some guns too. (Episode: S1Ep4, Your Friendly Neighborhood Kidnappers) Prompt pieces used: SET UP FOR FAILURE | "I warned you."

Notes:

This was my first time trying to write these guys (SORRY), and at the point of writing I had only watched about six episodes. Sorry for any mistakes. Title is a direct quote from the episode this was inspired by. I don’t know why this turned out so long (for a whumptober fic of mine) I guess I just really wanted to write it. I also wanted to add more but I ran out of time before I could figure out what. :( Words: 4,269 Content Warnings: Swearing, kidnapping, being held at gunpoint, being tied up, hair pulling, very purposeful aspects of non consensual stuff (no assault of that nature actually takes place, but please do be careful, the layering of all the fears was very important to me while writing this) (Btw, this was inspired specifically by this dialogue in the episode because I went insane when I first heard it: MIKE: Hey, no, man, I’m sorry. A kidnapping is— NICK TRUMP: Contest rules. Rules! MIKE: Well, man, I don’t know. NICK TRUMP: Look, I’ll tell you what to do. Think it over. MIKE: Um, a kidnapping, man. NICK TRUMP: I promise, if this doesn’t work, we forget the whole thing. Talk it over. Go ahead, go, go. Discuss it.”

Fic also under the cut. :3

It wasn’t really all that difficult to convince them to do something stupid, especially when the idea of fame and money was involved. They’d been struggling to make their rent payments, barely shopping for food, and wearing each other's clothes when they needed to, but they still hadn’t made it much further as musicians. They needed this contest, they needed that newspaper, they needed this publicity. He had told them that. It had taken a little convincing, but it hadn’t been too long before, the suspicious glances of the bandmates had turned to excited whispers as they were promised fame.

Even though they wanted a more low-key group of watchers, people who would only know their name for so far, they couldn’t help but feel their mouths watering at the idea of money at their hands and in their bank accounts. It wasn’t really their fault. That was just the life of four musicians.

Mike had tried to tell him that they didn’t want it. They worked for themselves and each other, it had, in all honesty, always been that way. Ever since the four of them had found themselves stumbling together along the same beach, laughing about a shared dream of music and stability, they had always leaned on each other, and no one else. This man, Nick Trump or whatever he’d said his name was, was no part in that. They didn’t didn’t need his help, and if they did, they didn’t want it.

Davy had tried next, telling him that they had to rehearse. To practice their songs. You know, the thing that musicians needed to do to do well in contests like the one they were currently among the finalists of? Compared to practice, publicity was nothing, right? Plenty of traditional concert halls had been filled with musicians who had never once been under the bearing eye of a camera, how was their style any different?

But Nick Trump’s words had been true when he’d shook his head and laughed. He’d shaken a slip of paper in their faces, reminding them- at threat of paper cut -of the simple fact of it. By simply signing up for the contest, they had been signing their names up for “exploitation and publicity.” There wasn’t really any getting out of whatever their assigned manager decided he wanted out of them.

Yeah. “Exploitation,” felt about right. First of all, the very first thing on the list of publicity was, for some reason, Davy’s shirt being ripped off in a public space. And, as if being told to enter a restaurant purely in order to have their clothing removed (which even Davy seemed somewhat uncomfortable about) wasn’t already bad enough, the second attempt had left them stuck hands first in the sidewalk for an hour before Nick Trump had finally come back to rescue them.

Their hands were still caked in concrete dust, funnily enough.

Fed up as any of the rest of them, Mike had told their “manager” that kidnapping was over the line (because of course it was). But, painfully unsurprisingly, the man had only pushed harder. Taking no for an answer? From the guy who’s first move had involved public nudity? Maybe Mike shouldn’t have been surprised when his numb disbelief was beginning to turn into a feeling of danger. No matter what he said, no matter what any of them said, the man just shook his scary blue envelope, rambled on about rules, and wouldn’t leave until the Monkees had reluctantly nodded an okay to his plan. (Because what else were they supposed to do? Say no?)

Nope. They’d be kicked out of the contest if they disagreed with anything now.

Maybe they should have tried being a little more careful with their contest choices, but it was long past that. In their defense, this hadn’t been the first time something like that “publicity” had been in the papers for them, but this was the first time anyone had ever acted on it. To be honest, it wasn’t really a shock that they hadn’t thought much about that particular clause when they’d first read the contract, but now, as they stood there, fingers weak from lingering concrete dust, and hearts still racing from the ordeal at the restaurant, they knew they didn’t really have a choice in this. All they could do was stare at the door and wait for someone to burst through and take them away to God only knew where. (Speaking of which, wasn’t the newspaper meant to be here soon?)

For now, they just had to sit still, look pretty, and do their best to be excited about what was about to happen.

“Maybe it’s not so bad,” Micky murmured. Despite the fact that he was obviously still thinking about the promise of stardome that the man had given them, he didn’t sound so sure. His hands were shaking as he fastened his bowtie into place, still aching from the quick seal concrete (and the subsequent sledgehammer hit) that their new publicity manager had forced him to go through, “I mean, can you imagine it? Stardom, never having to be late on rent again…”

He trailed off, and to Mike, it was clear he couldn’t think of a single thing else to say. (At least, nothing that casts their current situation in a positive light.) A moment passed, and Micky glanced up at the clock, his hair swirling around his face at the jerkiness of the movement. “They should be here by now,”

“Who? The kidnappers, or the cameramen?”

No one said it, but they were all thinking it.

Peter hummed something mostly unintelligible about late kidnappers messing with plans, but Mike didn’t hear it all that well over the blood pounding in his ears. Why was his heart beating so fast over this? This should be safe, this should be planned. He didn’t really have a reason to be scared, right?

The man had promised them that this would work. (Mike ignored the fact that his every other attempt had ended in disaster of some kind.) Maybe this was going to be okay. Clearly he was just worried about something else, after all, the kidnappers and the cameramen weren’t the only people missing from the apartment. He was just worrying about Davy, obviously. It would really suck for one of the four of them to miss out on this wonderful experience. (Even in his mind it sounded sarcastic, and Mike sighed.) 

Where was Davy?

Mike looked at the clock, Micky was right (for once), the kidnappers should have been here by now. What kind of publicity manager couldn’t even get his fake kidnappers to show up at the right time? Wasn’t that the point of the fake kidnappers? Scripting it so things didn’t go wrong?

“Mike, you should call them,” Micky joked, giving up on his bowtie as he did his best to wipe the concrete dust off his hands (though he left crummy streaks down the sides of his clean dress shirt, this attempt went no better than any of his last), “maybe they’ll answer,”

“Call ‘em?” Mike joked back, though his nerves were beginning to feel like they were on fire (perhaps Davy had had the right idea in leaving the pad after all), “How? Whaddaya want me to do? Pick up the phone and talk into it?”

Mike laughed and picked up one receiver, “Might answer, you know,”

For a second, Mike’s face broke into a small smirk as his hand hovered over the other phone, but another rush of worry crushed it out of him. He felt his face fall. This wasn’t the time for that.

“Yeah right,” Mike sighed, reaching up to smooth his hat down over his hair, making sure that his bangs looked right for the cameras (though he was starting to really wonder if they were coming at all). Mike and Micky looked at each other, shivering worry greeting rather nervous excitement as their eyes met. Peter hummed again, disgruntled about his still crackling fingers as he reached for a stack of plates from the counter. (How were they going to play like this?)

“We wait,” Mike said, hardly hearing Micky as he echoed him, only a half a beat late. Blood pounded in his ears. For a reason that he didn’t really want to think about as they all waited anxiously for the kidnappers to arrive, Mike had an awfully bad feeling about all this. 

The three stared at each other for a moment. Micky’s bowtie was crooked to a degree that was almost offensive to the eyes, Peter’s hair was hardly combed and already getting into his eyes, and Mike could tell without even looking that his suit jacket was smudged with dust and leftover restaurant grime. 

To be frank, they weren’t exactly the pictures of perfection.

Mike opened his mouth. Maybe he would have said something about his worries, maybe he would have just told one of the guys to make their outfit right, but the door slammed open before he could. He watched as his friend’s eyes widened, but froze stiff as he heard the click of a gun behind him. For some reason, that didn’t exactly sound like a fake gun.

“Okay, you dirty rats, drop everything and reach for the sky,”

For some reason, that didn’t exactly sound like a fake kidnapper.

They all raised their hands above their heads, Peter's plates falling to the ground with a crash as he let go. His eyes were wide and oh so brown, but none of them seemed to focus on how much that loss was going to cost them as the barrel of a gun brushed through the back of Mike’s hair. He sucked in a breath. Yeah. For some reason that didn’t feel like a fake gun.

Mike looked at Micky for help, but his expression wasn’t that easy to read. He was either going along with it all, or he too had realized what was really happening.

“Down to the couch, no excessive movements,” the kidnapper barked, and none of them hesitated as he forced the three guys down and onto the dark leather. His gun was still nestled in Mike's hair, drawing the two of them close as the kidnapper made him turn to face the barrel.

He was smirking, and Mike’s heart beat hard against his ribs as he watched the kidnapper’s partner shut and lock the door behind him. Where were the newspapers? The journalists? The camera crew? He chanced a glance at Peter, but didn’t get time to look Micky’s way before the kidnapper was pushing his head down and over the back of the couch, hissing something about misbehaving.

This didn’t feel like a fake kidnapping. Not one bit.

Mike would have been lying if he hadn’t admitted to the soft whimper that fought its way up and out of his throat. He’d grown up around guns, and he was very very sure that this was a real one. At either side, the guys obviously got it too, but neither dared move past unintentional shivering, sending waves of fear up Mike’s legs where they touched him.

“George,” the kidnapper said, keeping his eyes locked on Mike as he smirked, “What’s a good kidnapping without a little rope, eh?” He beconed his partner forward, and though he pulled the gun back slightly, Mike knew enough to recognize that there was no window of escape here. They were really trapped.

He felt Micky’s hand, which had been placed protectively at his stomach, shift to tap at his thigh. Mike didn’t know what the gesture meant, but he tried to appreciate it. Unfortunately, that was very hard to do when your heart was beating so fast that you were scared it was going to pop out. Unfortunately, that was very hard to do when your breath was only coming in quick gasps, and your hands were twitching more than they did after a long gig.

The other kidnapper, George it seemed, smirked as he drew closer, and Mike’s fear began to transform into full blown panic as the white ropes and cloths emerged from the burly man’s black pockets. This was not good, not at all.

Their “manager” had set them up.

Mike didn’t really feel the ropes being looped around him. He didn’t really feel the cloth of the gag being tied tight at the back of his neck. He didn’t really feel it when the kidnapper ruffled his hair and smiled, mocking him as his chest heaved in panic. What he did feel, however, was somehow even scarier.

He felt Micky’s entire body shivering when the kidnappers tied his hands together too tight, heard him pleading something almost intelligible right before the gag cut out his words, could almost smell the fear in the air as Micky chanced a glance his way. Was he apologizing for being so okay with this idea? Blaming Mike for it? Wondering if they were going to get out of this?

Mike couldn’t be sure, especially as, in his panic, he choked around the cloth in his mouth. He was so scared he couldn’t seem to figure out how to breathe, even with his nose and most of his mouth free.

At his other side, Peter wasn’t much better. His arms, thicker than either Mike’s or Micky’s, were clearly just as trapped as either of his bandmates’ were. His hair, which seemed to be tied into the knot at the back of his gag, was clearly pulling painfully, forcing him to whimper in pain as well as fear. Mike couldn't’ look at him, but he could feel his friend’s leg muscles stiffen when the kidnapper ruffled his hair. Smiling at his handiwork.

“Very nice George,” the first kidnapper murmured, his gun floating from one band member to the next, making it clear that, no matter who moved, one of them was going to be shot, “Looks nice and secure,”

He prodded at Micky with a foot, but the curly haired percussionist just shrank further into the dark leather of the couch. The kidnapper’s face briefly twitched into a smile. Clearly this was going exactly as he had imagined it…

Except for, of course, that one thing.

“Where’s the fourth one?” The kidnapper whispered, pausing the shifting of his gun to rest it briefly on Peter’s chest (it seemed to dig painfully into his fancy dress shirt when Peter sucked in a fearful breath) “We were promised four, but I only see three here,”

He drew back, and Peter seemed to practically melt against Mike. Weak just from the feeling of that barrel against his chest.

“Maybe you could ask him, Horace,” George said, his own gun held lazily at his side. Clearly he could tell that three scared musicians were not a threat to someone like him and his partner, “The dummy might answer,”

Horace leaned back towards Peter with a smirk, but when Peter shook his head, hair obviously tugging from where it tangled at the back of his neck, he withdrew again. “You should ask them,” Horace said, taking a step back and waving his partner forward, “I’m interested in seeing what you think you can do,”

George raised his gun slightly, but it was still aimed low, more at their feet than their knees but more at their knees than their thighs. Mike knew better than to move. He knew how fast a bullet could fly, he knew how fast a gun could move, he knew how debilitating a shot even to just fat would be. 

But his blood ran cold when Micky began to shift, as if he truly believed this, with his hands tied behind his back and his mouth forced someplace between open and slammed closed, was his chance for an escape. Mike felt it in slow motion, watched as the kidnapper’s face began to twitch, felt it as Micky began to really almost stand. 

But Mike knew him too well to let him. 

He slammed his knee into his friend’s leg, and Micky stopped, obedient, as if realizing how stupid his death had almost been.

George nodded, and almost smiled, though it was cruel and crooked. “Smart one,” he purred, his praise feeling like cold fingers around Mike’s neck, “Good boy,”

Mike grimaced through his gag, but he didn’t have much time to dwell on the “compliment,” before the gun was raised higher, the footsteps pulled behind them as the kidnapper circled the three tied up band mates.

“I want some straight answers,” George was saying, now out of Mike’s view but oh so present in the hand on his shoulder, “where’s your buddy?”

There was no way he didn’t know they couldn’t talk, but as the fingers grew tighter around Mike’s shoulder, he knew he had to do his best to answer. “I don’t know!” he tried to plead, “Please, I don’t know!”

But his words could not be heard, and again he choked slightly in his panic. He coughed pathetically against his gag, but no words got out, just a wad of saliva that dripped hopelessly down his chin. He was shaking so hard that he was surprised that the old couch wasn’t squeaking with the reverberations of it. (Or, at least, he would have been if there had been pretty much any thought in his mind besides, “Holy shit we’re going to die,”)

The kidnappers pretended to be angry, but the clear smirk in his voice when George spoke again was enough to make it clear exactly what they were dealing with. “Where’s your buddy? I’m warning you, one of you has to answer,” he asked again, shifting to talk to Peter, though he kept his fingers clenched around Mike’s shoulder as he continued (it felt like it was going to bruise), “since the smart one was far too stupid to answer,”

Peter sputtered something completely impossible to understand, and quickly ducked his head down as George moved closer, his hand finally leaving Mike’s shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye (he was too scared to move enough to see clearly), Mike watched as the kidnapper grabbed his friend’s hair to yank him back up to a sitting position.

“I warned you,” George hissed, twisting his fingers and causing Peter to yelp and squirm, but not enough to even shift the ropes that bound him. Clearly they were in far too deep of trouble to really give escape a shot.

“Wow,” Horace tut tutted from across the room, “don’t you know not to move too much during something like this? I thought you were meant to be famous musicians or somethin’, surely, if you were, you’d have training of some sort,”

Despite the situation, Micky sputtered something back, but his already muffled voice died in his throat with a painful squeak as George shifted his hand to Micky’s hair. Tangling it tight into his brown curls in a way that seemed almost too cruel for even a kidnapper. George pulled, and Micky was forced to bend over the back of the couch as far as he could in order to look the man in the eyes.

Mike could not see his friend’s face, but he knew Micky’s body language well enough to feel the frozen fear as the kidnapper asked his question once more.

“Where’s your buddy?” he hummed, soft, as if he wasn’t yanking on Micky’s hair so hard that he was starting to cry, “Surely you’ve got to know what’s good for you, you brat, even though no one else here seems to.”

Mike felt the barrel of the gun in his hair again, and he closed his eyes as Micky whimpered against his gag. His heart felt cold. They really didn’t know where Davy was, they couldn’t answer even if they had a real chance to.

They stayed locked that way for a moment longer, Micky half crying as the pressure on his hair became ever stronger, Mike’s breath coming almost too fast for any air to come in as the cold metal of the gun touched so gently against his skin, Peter shivering with something that was somewhere between fear and rage as he was forced to watch his friends fight for breath, but completely unable to move as Horace moved in, his gun pointed coldly back at Peter’s chest.

The kidnapper's eyes were like those of some awful predator animal. A wolf maybe, perhaps a bear. Dark, deadly, and oh so intelligent. 

Finally, the gunman spoke.

“George,” Horace hummed, though he had clearly been aware of the option from the start, “maybe if you took off their gags they would give you more intelligent answers,”

“Oh yeah,” said George, though he was obviously grinning with the excitement of what he was doing, “Maybe if I did,”

Mike felt his mind go blank for a second as the world seemed to slip momentarily into pure fear.

They didn’t know the answer to the question.

The gun shifted from the back of his head for just a moment as George pulled the dirty cloth from his mouth, Mike coughed again, feeling how wet the fabric had become as it fell against his neck. His arms hurt where the ropes tugged at them. But that was the least of his worries.

At either side, Micky and Peter’s pained coughing soon joined his. Micky’s clamped jaws just barely held back his whining as George continued to twist at his hair. (For some reason, that seemed to give the kidnappers a particular feeling of joy.) Peter was clearly seething, but he was just as obviously aware of the others and the position they were in. There was no fighting this. Even he knew that.

“Is that better?” Horace asked with a whole lot of false kindness, smirking very very wide as he looked at the shivering musicians before him, “I’m terribly sorry about that, I guess it just slipped my mind that you were, ah, a little wrapped up.” He smiled good naturedly, and Mike felt his eyes cloud with something that wasn't’ quite fear, but wasn't’ quite anger either.

Micky sucked in a pained breath as George gave one last twist of his hair, his eyes shining with hardly suppressed tears. There was a wet smear on his cheek, but Mike couldn’t be sure if it was from his friend’s tears or saliva just by looking at it, and even if he could, he wouldn’t have wanted that to be one of his last thoughts on this earth.

“So we’ll ask one more time,” Horace said, still smirking with fake pleasantries, “Where’s your other friend?” he paused to point at each of them with his very real gun, “any one of you is allowed to answer, so give me what you got!”

His face dropped into a horrible twist of rage and pleasure as the kidnapper stared directly into Mike’s wide eyes. “Trust me baby, you don’t want to make us wait,”

Mike wracked his brain. Milliseconds seemed to tick by like hours, each second growing the smirk back onto Horace’s face as he got closer and closer to really, finally, getting to shoot one of them.

Where the fuck was Davy?

Mike was really shaking now, his teeth, no longer muffled by the itchy hold of the cloth gag, chattered against each other as his friends froze still at his sides. Clearly, they were thinking just as hard as he was.

“None of you know?” George asked, sounding genuinely surprised for a moment before recovering, his hand now twisting into Mike’s hair as he spoke again, “As if! Tell us, now smart boy,”

Horace hummed, taking a step closer and pushing his gun towards Mike’s forehead (but not too close that it couldn’t be turned on Peter or Micky), “You won’t like what happens if you don’t,” he laughed slightly, “or, I guess you won’t care, ‘cus you’ll be dead, but your friends won’t like it,”

Mike’s mouth was not working to spit out words, even if he had had any to say. All he could do was whimper weakly as his hat twisted with the hair on his head. The kidnappers were just messing with him, like a baby mouse in a cat’s claws. His vision was growing spotty.

“Well then,” Horace hummed, “I guess you’ve made your choice,”

He pushed his gun forward slowly, savoring it. It was romantic, almost erotic, and Mike was terrified. But before he could black out, Peter was speaking.

“Wait, wait!” he called, and if Mike didn’t know him so well he wouldn’t have even known that his words were as much a complete guess as they were panicked and pleading, “Davy’s at the dance with a girlfriend, down the road someplace,”

“That’s a start,” the kidnapper grinned, though he looked a little disappointed that he wasn’t going to be splattering Mike’s brains on the wall. …at least not yet, “maybe you aren’t such a dummy after all,” He nodded to George. “Go get him, I’ll keep these three occupied,” He smirked at the guys, “It’ll be fun! I promise,” he lifted his gun once more and pressed it forward towards Mike’s heaving chest, “Right from my heart,”

Mike whimpered again, but there was nothing he could do. There never had been. They’d been set up for this right from the start. And now, once George and Horace realized that they had been duped, there was absolutely nothing that any of the band mates could ever do to keep the floors clean of their warm sticky blood.

[pexchys]

(Conversations with Cliche After Death)

TW: Grief, su*cide, mourning, loss

Last year, I lost a good friend due to su*cide. She was missing for three days before she was found. I was lost and unsure of how to handle it, so I wrote about it. It took me months to figure out the right words and how to properly express myself. I found myself unable to cry until I had finally finished this piece. It was a tremendously cathartic experience and helped me process her absence and my own emotions when I had no one else to turn to. That's always been the point of why I write.

Sofie was a cliche. Not in the bad way-- she was just any ordinary teenager. She worked at McDonalds. She was kind and sweet, always saying hello to people in hallways. She wanted to go to concerts and festivals. She loved the color pink and to eat mangoes. It didn't occur to me that such an ordinary girl could struggle so much. That's the thing with depression-- it could really happen to anyone.

A few months after completing this, I came across the Scholastic Writing Awards Competition. I submitted it on a whim, sending it off so that at least someone beside myself should read this. Maybe they'll think of someone in their own life and offer a little more love. More support. You never know.

I am now a Silver Award National recipient, along with the winner of the New York Life Award.

There has been a lot of healing. There has been a lot of growth. I hoped to make Sofie proud. I've decided to share this with all of you so that maybe you're reminded that there are people who do care. Who will mourn you. Who love you to the cosmos and back. And it's also a reminder to give that love back to the people in your life. To anyone, really. The world sure could use a lot more of it right now.

I'm still not so sure on how to talk about this. It's still hard. But we can try. I love you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Conversations with Cliche After Death)

Cliche, tell me; when a girl drives depression as if it were a nail against a wall, did you ever stop to think? If you’ve ever read Plath, ever kept a comforting kind of cold that creeps in between silence, taming fires in bones and combing out your hair, untangling every memory, you’ll know Melancholy will sit there with me. He’s reactive, recitative; he likes to express; he concludes and dissects and stresses, tending a garden so wild it’s enough to swallow god. I didn’t notice him standing in my shadow and watching over me when I knelt in that garden to lay another flower down. You see, yesterday they told me they will find her. She’ll come home, warm and loved. I was sitting in Spanish when a friend called me.

It’s about her. Come outside. 

I ran out to the hallway. 

They found her!

They found her.

They found her dead.

What a sick, twisted joke.

I hear someone call out my name. 

No, you’re kidding.

My glare, my incredulous laugh; I blanch, I express my grief in silence; a marble statue was I, set in moveless despair. If I could weep… but I couldn’t. I simply sat and let others cry into my arms that day.  Oh I’ll tell you! The room was filled with half-taught anguish, people bent upward to the heavens in loud tears. And there was I, days after, coloring into stupid coloring books during grief sessions, talking about her favorite color (pink) and how kind she was. Stop looking at me with those eyes. I’m okay, just leave me alone and let me go home. I thought I was a horrible person; what friend am I who can’t cry for her? I’ll crumble to the dirt beneath.

Cliche, tell me, what was the purpose of any originality, when in the midnight hours I get to dream about my own future when she thought she didn’t have one. I get to sit on my bed and sleep and wake up, when she will never wake up again. I walk to class, I go home, but what fear sweeps this little life of mine? Do I terrify? Did she? What of the sad mothers and helpless fathers? 

I finally weeped. I cry because I am still here and she is not. I cry because my mother is sleeping downstairs while her father could be staring into her empty bedroom.

I kowtow into her absence, my knees– eyes dressed in dust and dearth, debris flooding her mouth before she coughs up.

You know, there are others growing in the garden. My relatives; my kin, my flesh; them in their war torn clothes and dirty fingernails. They still have their shrapnel wounded legs and their ears still ringing from bombings, lungs smothered in gunpowder even after death. Tainted, black and bruised, whatever chorus that lifted up to my mouth’s blade—

Dying is an art. 

But tell me, Cliche, who wants to die this young.

Do you cut away at your life to fit whatever gorgeous blueprint? Makes me retch. 

There are eggshells and my feet are bleeding again. When Death says “you were born for this,”

He clearly means “you will die for this.” 

Melancholy hangs his ghastly lilies in his garden. I ask him if it’s peaceful. Quiet. 

He doesn’t respond, but I know. I know death chokes the aged and the meek. It chokes the young and the strong. It’s like some fat Ceberus, wheezing at the gates, licking at whatever sins or virtues there are left. There is no fairness. The pieces of peace I’ve collected in my pockets, well jee, I didn’t know there was a tear in the stitching. I’ll sit here and haunt and wait for a small kind of revival. I’ll defend myself with a broken pen for a sword, brackets for a shield and a small prayer that no one will find me tucked between pages of books and paranoia in every paragraph I write.

Tear it! Shred it, mutilate it, beg the person in the mirror just one more day, one more request:  

Come, Death! Be sure to take off that invisible cloak you wear and be a little kinder this time. Be a friend and take my hand, walk me into the friendly dark. Walk me into a different room where I will still hear her laughter. 

You lose people you overlove; I pick at petals, I love me not. The passagework of pain, the way it tenderly goes; the slick, the clever, the guileful. We sit for an hour while she tells me how unreasonable I’ve been; crying in the checkout line, refusing to eat, refusing to shower, the self-medications certainly don’t work, and I’m breaking my mother’s heart. 

I tell her we learn so little from peace. There is no scar from happiness. So why did you do it?

She tells me to forgive myself. The heavy feelings in my heart will dissolve with the rain. It will feel like folding a blanket. I don’t have to hold it in; I can sing it, or draw it, or wear it; This hand of ordination that laid upon her brow like some birthmark…what is the power to kill without the power to die. 

It seems that healing feels like clutching cold fruit in a cold kitchen. Melancholy has followed me everywhere, like a son. But what would I do without my tears? I see it now: her death does not grow smaller with the march of time. She is still there, in my mind’s eye. When I think of all our days, I wish that they would come clear– I’ll travel through the haze and conjure her up. I won’t go looking in the silence. I’ll search in the spaces between the trees, in the memories when I find us lingering in the sunshine through the leaves, so when the friendly dark visits me, I’ll tell it no. I’ve got people to see. 

Cliche, I think there will be a silver lining in every rainstorm. Tell her:

I hope you’re okay. I hope the garden is peaceful and it smells like mangoes. 

[nsokolow]

Little Weasel, Big City: Chapter 26

Duke’s heart dropped. A surge of fear and dread bolted through him. He leapt off the animal’s lap and ran to Destiny. “W-What? Again? Destiny, how? The results said you were clear!”

Destiny sighed and ran a paw down her face. “Look, I didn’t wanna tell ya. I didn’t want ya to worry. Same reason why I didn’t tell the rest of the family. I remember everythin’ you all went through last time I was sick.”

Duke grabbed his little sister’s shoulders. “Dest! We love you! Yeah, we went through a lot, but we love you!”

“You had to watch me lose my mind more and more, me being muzzled and tied down in my hospital bed so I would stop tryin’ to attack whoever was around! I’ve seen what my Mad Weasel Disease did to you, Duke!”

“Did to me?” Duke loosened his grip.

Destiny lowered her voice. “I know you started stealin’ when I needed money for treatment. I didn’t know then, but I figured it out when I got older. I don’t want anyone else’s lives to be ruined because of my disease.”

Duke opened his mouth, but failed to come up with a response.

Destiny held her phone back up. “Please, just be in the video, then I can get money, be cured quickly, then it’ll be like I never had it to begin with. The only symptoms I have right now are occasional bouts of rage and some extra shedding. I need this taken care of before it gets more obvious, and the family possibly finds out.”

Duke sighed. “Okay. I’ll do this for all of us. Wish there was some other way, but I wanna do something other than stealin’ this time.” He hung his head and walked back to the couch.

“Duke, wait!” Leilani held her paw up. “Destiny! I have a better idea!”

“What?” Destiny smirked. “This oughta be good.”

“How much money do you need for your treatment?”

“Uh…it would be around a thousand bucks for a round of treatment, and like, forty-five thousand for four rounds. I don’t know how much I’d need. Likely two, since it hasn’t progressed too mu—“ Destiny coughed into her elbow as a few hairs fell off her cheek.

“You know who Gazelle is?”

Destiny scoffed. “Who doesn’t?”

Leilani took a step closer to Destiny. “Well, she’s really connected to Zootopia, since she was born and raised here. Also, Duke?” Leilani looked at Duke. “Maybe we could tell the press our story, then use our platform to try to get a fundraiser going for Mad Weasel Disease? Gazelle would probably see it, since she’s from Zootopia and lives here! In short: Gazelle fundraiser concert!”

All traces of attitude melted away from Destiny’s face.

Relieved, hopeful warmth filled Duke’s body.

Destiny flinched. “Wait…your story? What do you mean, Lilly?”

Duke approached the two. “It’s ’Leilani,’ and our story is that, well, we ended up gettin’ sprayed by your altered plants, and we woke up married. You got another sister-in-law!”

“Oh! OH!” Destiny touched her forehead. “When did ya both get sprayed?”

“A few days ago,” Leilani awkwardly shrugged.

“And…you’re stayin’ together?”

“Yeah.” Duke grabbed Leilani’s paw and smiled at his sister.

Destiny plopped herself down on the couch. “Whoa. I’m sorry, but I’m happy for ya both. This is a weird feelin’.”

“So, are you okay with the news and Gazelle idea? I sure am!” Duke folded his paws and nodded.

Destiny nodded. “I hope ya can get me on TV.” She extended her paw.

Duke shook her paw and pulled her in for a hug.

Destiny sniffed. “Thank you.”

[fictionfixations]

im writing a multi-chapter fic

i found a cool song so i figured i could use it to name a few chapters over specific arc event stuff

anyway im more likely not to finish it so i dont actually care if someone steals an idea (honestly the context and notes along with each arc make more sense if you know what story it is, but HAH theres like no fanfic tags for the crossover that i have with mha besides character tags lmfao so HAVE FUN WRITING AN UNDERRATED FIC SUCKERS. ...ah.)

also manga spoilers

USJ: When I reached over to touch / your wound gently / I had realized you were ever slightly shivering

Interlude (conversations, statements, wrapping some things up): Spreading out your injured wings / after all this time

Sports Festival: With nowhere to go / your future unknown / You gaze at the sky as If you're wondering

Stain/Internships: As the meaning of “alive” / is coming to life all around / So now within my heart / I promise, on my part / That I’m here to keep you safe

Final Exam: From a faraway land comes / a chilling breeze / That is rustling through the pages of your story

Training Camp: There is a wistful glow that you wear / But hey, it’s no big deal / don’t you see?

Kamino [Deku or Kacchan? or both?]: Even if this world falls apart / I will / be always by your side / don't matter what / Anything that might be / blocking out the light

Provisional Licensing Exam: All these feelings that have turned to stone you know… / Cannot follow you into / tomorrow wherever we go

Shie Hassaikai/Work Studies (post note: REMEMBER NIGHTEYE- HE DIED. HOW DID I FORGET THAT?????): So now within my heart / I promise on my part / that I'm never going to / forget you

School Festival (Concert): As long as you know / that you’re not alone / Then you can overcome anything you see!

Pro Hero Arc (Endeavor redemption, the scar, the nomu and hawks mentioning the MLA): You are dreaming of the day / you’re once more in the sky

Joint Training Arc (SHINSOU!!! 1-A vs 1-B): And if what I say / can still find its way / There’s nothing to fear / when we are side by side

(MLA Arc, or My Villain Academia where HOLY SHTI EVERYTHING UPGRADES. but i wont show this cause this is strictly midoriya pov)

Endeavor Agency Arc (hawks drops hints, the main three take work studies, except idk if that'll still happen because logically theres no point to it. maybe work on cultivating analysis? remember that endeavor can understand deku mumble. maybe he practices more of a support role? katsuki takes a slight issue to this but deku reassures him that its fine, and that he doesn't care either way. its mainly spite that led him here.): Take as many colors from them as you can… / And paint your future just as / you had planned!

Paranormal Liberation War. ..am I really gonna do this?: I swear, ‘til I die / as long as I’m alive / I’ll be here by your side!

Dark Hero (depression) im most likely going to stop before this but how do i stop the fuck out of afo: And the bond that’s always held us close / you know… / It is stronger than you may believe / It will never let go

imagine i do a twist where the mirror world was related to all for one or something or the doctor and was a weird experiment (yknow how dabi was technically kidnapped and was in a coma for 3 years but was meant to be like a backup successor or some shit. what if... midoriya...? because he was quirkless so he must have a lot of hatred, and the fragmented memories could only strengthen that, and when he wakes up from being kidnapped during the training camp and HOLY SHIT I JUST HAD AN IDEA)

[harlowsbby]

Telling Urban you love him for the first time. 🥺

Let me love you

“When should I tell him? Or should I even tell him first.”

“Y/N if you feel like it’s the right time then I think you should tell him tonight during dinner.”

Your friend Katie told you through the phone, Urban and You have been together for about seven months now and neither have you had told one another that you loved each other, you weren’t sure when the right right was but you had a feeling that the right time was now.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way or I scare him off when I say it.”

“Y/N, sweetheart you two have been together for seven months now if your morning breath hasn’t scared him off yet I think you’re good.” Katie laughed and you scoffed and hung up the phone before going back and making dinner for Urban and You.

You were making homemade gumbo since it’s been raining for the past few days in Louisville you figured a big pot of some warm gumbo would make anybody feel warm on the inside.

Reminiscing on the time you first saw Urban came across your mind, you chuckled remembering that night and how nervous he was to come up to you.

“Urban go up to her she isn’t going to bite your head off.” You’ve been friends with Neelam for some time now and she invited you to Jack’s show in Atlanta, Urban had been watching you all night as you laughed with your friends.

“I can’t do that Sunni what if she has a man.”

“You don’t know if you don’t ask Urban, now go or else.” Urban didn’t have time to object before he was being pushed into you, flying forward you rolled your eyes and your friends giggled. Turning around you came face to face with a nervous looking Urban.

“Can I help you?”

“Uh-uh well uh my friend over there.” Urban pointed behind him, looking behind him you raised a eyebrow seeing absolutely nobody but a cardboard cutout of Jack.

“What friend? The cardboard cutout.”

“A cardboard cut ou-.” Looking behind him he rolled his eyes seeing Sunni was no longer there.

“Look I’m sorry I just thought you were really cute and I was wondering can I get your number and take you out sometime?”

“Ooo get it girl.” Your friend Toya and India laughed from behind you. Glaring at them you turned your attention back to Urban, you had to admit he was really cute he was tall enough, and his lips gosh you could only imagine how those would feel.

“Sure here just put your number and name in my phone and I’ll text you tonight yeah?”

“Yeah that sounds great.” He smiled and quickly entered his phone number and name in your phone.

Sometime during the concert you searched through your contacts looking for his name, when you came across an unfamiliar contact you smiled seeing what he saved his name under.

Urban (your future man 💗)

“Baby I’m home!!” Urban’s voice came from the front door, snapping you out of your trance.

“I’m in the kitchen Urban.” You got nervous hearing his footsteps coming closer to the kitchen before he appeared.

“What’s all this baby?”

“Just some jumbo and cornbread something to keep your stomach nice and warm during the cold weather.” He smiled and made his way towards you, grabbing your face he pulled you into him kissing your lips the taste of beer and your honey lip scrub lingering on your lips after the kiss.

“Let’s eat shall me?”

“We shall.”

You sat seriously throughout the entire dinner you couldn’t sit still no matter how hard you tried and something Urban noticed.

“Are you okay baby? You barley ate anything.”

“I’m okay Urban.” You lied through your teeth trying to avoid any eye contact with him but he knew you better then that.

“What’s wrong baby and don’t lie.”

“Well you know we’ve been dating for seven months almost eight months now.”

“Yeah and?” He was getting nervous himself he had this fear with him being gone on tour with Jack the past two months might’ve affected with your relationship somehow.

“Well I just.. I love you Urban Wyatt.” It got silent like if a pin was to drop you can hear it silent. Biting your lip nervously you studied Urban’s face but it was hard.

“Are you mad? Dammit forget I said anything I’m so stup-.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

“You love me?” Your eyes started forming with tears as well as Urban’s he laughed and took your hands from across the table, grasping yours with his.

“Yes I love you baby girl I just wasn’t sure when the right time was to say it but the right time I now. I love you Y/N Y/L so fucking much.”

That night Urban showed you in other way just how exactly he loved you.

[everythingpresley]

Don't You Kiss Me Once or Twice - Chapter 16

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Jessica Anderson is Elvis Presley's assistant and after months of working together, slowly something sparks between them. Friendship? Or is it more? [ Fem!Reader ]

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+), Slowburn

    ||     Word Count: 4,302

Author’s note: I decided to split this chapter because for some reason it is taking me so long to write and I wouldn't be able to update for a while. Also, the Aloha from Hawaii concert is happening in 1972 in the story instead of 1973, just a heads up!

Masterlist

Don't You Kiss Me Once or Twice - Chapter 16

Grace, Janice and I decided to all go for lunch at one of our favorite diners in Memphis. 

“I see Elvis has corrupted you. You used to always order the chicken sandwich and now all you order are cheeseburgers.” Janice chuckled when the waitress brought over our orders. 

“Corrupted her in other ways as well.” Grace smirked, wiggling her eyebrows at me. 

I frowned, shoving a piece of fry in my mouth.

Janice gasped and turned to Grace. I was sitting opposite of them in the booth, they were seated side by side “What do you mean! Spill right now Grace!” 

“Wait, you don’t know?” Grace asked Janice “I would’ve figured Jess told you.”

“Told her what?” I asked at the same time as Janice asked “Told me what?”

“Our girl here slept with the king of rock and roll, Elvis Presley.” Grace smirked. 

“What?!” Janice shrieked while I choked on my fries and saliva.

“Excuse me?” I looked at Grace, my eyes so wide you’d think they’d fall out of their socket. 

“Don’t even try to deny it.” Grace pointed her finger at me. 

I sighed and rolled my eyes, I didn't want to lie to her “How did you find out?”

“So it’s real!” Janice gasped.

“Keep your voice down!” I hissed.

“Elvis told me.” Grace smirked. 

I gasped, that son of a bitch “He did? When?”

“When you were in the hospital, in your coma.” Grace replied. 

“Oh.” I replied, so she doesn't know about the more recent activities. 

“So that’s why he almost killed Matt at the hospital.” Janice said with her jaw open. 

“Oh he was so jealous.” Grace snickered. 

“I can’t believe I was the last one to find out.” Janice grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest in a pout. 

“I can’t believe I had to find out from Elvis and not from you.” Grace continued.

“I didn’t want anyone to find out, Grace. Plus, we agreed to forget about it. So, there was no point in telling anyone.” 

“Oh Elvis definitely didn't want to forget about it.” Grace replied “It broke my heart seeing how distraught he was at the hospital, like his entire world was taken away.” She said softly making my heart practically beat right out of my chest. My heart broke for Elvis, my mind recalling the day he cried, blaming himself for my accident. 

“I’m really glad you’re okay.” Janice said and reached across the table to squeeze my hand. I smiled softly at her.

“But tell me, nothing happened after that?” Grace narrowed her eyes at me.

I hated lying. Yes, I kept what happened between Elvis and I a secret but I never lied about it. Plus, I’m not good at lying. It’s an easy tell.

Janice also narrowed her eyes, looking at me with suspicion. 

“What is this? Lunch or interrogate Jess?” I said and ate more fries, avoiding their eyes. 

“Something did happen!” Janice gasped. 

“Stop.” I grumbled.

“Tell us!” Grace chanted.

I shrugged and picked up my burger.

“Jess!” They both exclaimed.

“Fine.” I chuckled and rolled my eyes, placing the burger back down on my plate “Nothing serious but after my accident, a few days after I got home we slept together and have been ever since.”

They both gasped “Nothing serious my ass!” Grace then said “It’s obvious you two are crazy about each other! Just look at the smile on your face when you’re talking about him.”

I wanted to tell her about my fears and doubts regarding Elvis but I just didn't want to put them out in the universe. I wanted to tell her how much I’m scared one day I’ll walk into his bedroom and see some other girl in his bed instead of me. How much it scared me that I was falling for him fast and hard in just a small amount of time. Actually it was not considered to be a small amount of time since these feelings have been brewing in me the moment we met, when I first became his assistant. 

“I don’t know about that Grace.” I shook my head “It’s complicated and I’m his assistant. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place but it did. And I’ve been so much happier ever since and I really don’t want to dig deep and ruin what we’ve got right now because its good. So, I’m taking it one step at a time.” I replied. 

“Fine.” Grace replied “But I don’t think Elvis would be happy to see you with some other guy and I don’t think you’ll be happy to see him with another girl. You two just have to get the courage to actually tell each other how you really feel.” 

“Man up Jess!” Janice joked. 

“But seriously, you guys can’t tell anyone, not even Jerry.” I pointed at Grace. They both raised their hands up in surrender.

I chuckled and shook my head at them deciding to bite into my burger and change the subject. 

After lunch and a much needed catch up with the girls I headed back to Graceland. Walking through the front door I could hear all of the Memphis Mafia causing a ruckus downstairs probably in the Jungle room. 

The past few weeks Elvis and I hadn’t spent much time together. He had been so busy with his satellite concert that’s coming up in Hawaii. The entire house was buzzing with excitement, it would premiere in different countries around the world and none of us could wrap our heads around it. He was extremely nervous just by the thought but I knew he would be amazing as usual. Unfortunately, we hadn’t seen each other and especially at night I would already be asleep by the time he comes back. I even chose to sleep in my room some days since I didn’t see the point of sleeping in his room without him. 

Like yesterday for example:

I had been asleep for hours when Elvis came into my room. 

“Baby.” He whispered “Honey, wake up.”

I groaned, opening one eye to see him hovering over me, a few inches away from my face “You’re back?”

“Yeah.” He grinned “Come on, let’s go to my room.”

“Noooo.” I moaned and closed my eyes again, I really couldn’t move. I was way too comfortable.

“Come on, my bed is way better and my room is way cooler.” He frowned. 

“Okay, go to bed.” I mumbled. 

“Jessss.” He moaned. 

“Elvis.” I grumbled and pulled the sheets over my head. 

He was quiet for a few seconds then slowly he pulled the sheets off of my body. I frowned, keeping my eyes shut. I didn’t know what he was trying to do, if he was getting in bed with me or not but then he shoved his hands under my back and under my thighs. I groaned when he picked me up bridal style out of the bed.

“Shh sleep.” He whispered. I sighed and nuzzled my face into his chest as he walked out of my room, up the stairs and to his room, placing me gently under the covers in his bed. He kissed my forehead, tucked me in and headed for the bathroom. Sleep coming over me the moment he tucked me in. 

I was by the front door when Elvis came trotting down the stairs from his room.

Elvis gasped “There she is.”

“Here I am.” I grinned, opening my arms wide. He grinned and jogged down the stairs straight to my arms. I pulled back and kissed him all over his face.

“You missed me handsome?” I asked, kissing his cheek then moving down to his neck. He hummed then pulled my face up to kiss my lips. 

“You left me all alone in bed.” He pouted. 

I smiled and kissed his pouted lips “I wanted you to sleep in.” 

“How was lunch?” 

“Good. Grace and Janice now know about us, I hope that’s okay?” I gave him a sheepish smile, I forgot to consider if he even wanted people to know about us.

“That’s fine baby.” He chuckled then quickly dropped his arms and moved back. I didn’t even realize until I heard heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs. I quickly reached forward and wiped at Elvis’ lips where he had some of my lipgloss on his mouth. 

A few days later, we boarded Elvis’ private plane and headed for Hawaii. I’ve never been to Hawaii and I was super excited especially with how much Elvis loved Hawaii, he kept telling me about the different activities they do and how much fun they have. The week before I had to buy fancy dresses for the concert and the after party, I couldn’t wait to show Elvis since I don’t usually get dressed up like this. 

I sat with Grace during the flight and she kept teasing that Elvis would try to sneak glances my way, she was relentless now that she knows the situation about Elvis and me.

Elvis booked us all tiny villas that served as a bungalow, all couples were together since each villa just had a king bed, a small kitchen and bathroom. Except, Elvis’ had his own private beach. We landed in Hawaii, Elvis making his way through the fans, taking pictures, signing autographs and receiving leis from the locals. We trailed behind him, got in the cars that were lined up on the tarmac and headed towards the bungalows. 

We all decided to relax in our rooms/bungalows until it was time for dinner. I got dressed in a little red sundress with white flowers that ended a few inches under my knees with a little slit on my right thigh. 

I walked out of my room and saw Elvis walking towards my villa. He looked up and smiled.

“Don’t you look cute.” He said, both of us walking towards one another. Butterflies erupted in my stomach at the way he was looking at me. Even while standing a few feet away from him I could see the genuine happiness in his eyes from seeing me. 

He was dressed in a loose black short sleeve button up and white khaki pants. 

I smiled and stopped in front of him “Hey handsome.”

“Kiss me right now, I haven’t touched you all day.” I said and wrapped my arms around his neck. He had is hands behind his back “Wait, I got this for you.” He said and pulled out a white lily flower “May I?” He asked, I nodded. He reached up and tucked the flower into my hair, on my ear. He pulled back to evaluate how I look like. I smiled and posed for him. He chuckled and pulled me into his arms, wrapping his arms around my waist. He groaned and planted a loud, wet kiss on my cheek “You’re so fucking cute, honey.”

I grinned and kissed him then he ran his hands down my thighs and pulled back “What is this slit?” He bit his lower lip.

“Oh this is nothing, wait till the actual day of the concert.” I grinned. This was a small slit that ended a little above my knee. 

“Oh baby.” He mumbled, shaking his head and pulled me back in for another kiss.  

“My bungalow is right next to Joe’s, what if he sees us?” I pulled back and looked around for any of our friends. 

“They’re already at the beach for dinner, don’t worry.” Elvis replied and took my hand “Let’s go, we’re late.”

We held hands till we reached the private beach, letting go of each other’s hands when we could see the large dinner table that was placed on the sand. The area was lit up with tiki torches and candles on the table. It was very romantic except for the fact that it was dinner with the entire team. 

“Hey.” I smiled at everyone and sat in between Grace and Joe Esposito’s wife. 

The dinner was nice and fun, conversations and wine was flowing. I can never get tired of these people, I really do love them even when sometimes that guys can be childish and annoying. 

“Okay guys! Everyone to bed please! We need everyone on their A game tomorrow.” Joe announced “EP, you need to get fitted for your Eagle jumpsuit and then rehearsals.”

“Aye, aye Captain.” Red saluted Joe as everyone got up and wished everyone a good night. 

“Get back here once everyone is gone.” Elvis whispered as he passed me, walking towards his bungalow. 

“He’s so whipped.” Grace snickered now that we were alone, walking towards our bungalow. Jerry hung back with the guys.

I rolled my eyes at her with a smile on my face “He’s not.”

“I don’t know anyone who keeps a random photo of a girl he’s sleeping with in his wallet.” She gave me a pointed look.

“How do you know about that?”

“He asked me to develop the photos in wallet sized photos, why would he want it in wallet size if it wasn’t for his wallet?” She rolled her eyes. 

I nodded “Actually can I get copies of those photos as well?”

“Sure, I developed multiple copies and in bigger sizes just in case you wanted them.” She smiled. 

“Thank you.” 

I went back to my bungalow and freshened up, sprayed some perfume and reapplied my lipgloss. About thirty minutes later the landline in my bungalow rang. 

Picking it up, Elvis’ voice poured out of the speaker “Get your ass over here.”

“Very romantic Elvis.” I chuckled. 

“Quickly!” He groaned. 

“Okay, okay.” I laughed and hung up. I fixed the flower that Elvis tucked over my ear and headed for his bungalow.

“Where are you headed?” Joe asked, frowning.

“Uh, just walking around to clear my head.” I lied.

“Okay but hurry back and sleep well.” Joe replied, opening the door to his and his wife’s bungalow. 

“Will do Joey.” I smiled, he smiled back and walked through the door, shutting it behind him. 

I went around Elvis’ bungalow to the beach. The area where we had dinner was now cleared out and a small dinning table was there instead of the large one with only two chairs. The tiki torches were still on fire but only two, keeping the lighting at a minimum and a candle on the table. There was a stereo placed nearby that had music playing. 

I grinned, not expecting this. I just thought we’d be in his room and have sex, our usual routine. We’d never had anything remotely close to a date, this felt like a date.

“What do you think?” Elvis asked, strolling out of his open sliding door that faced the beach.

“Elvis.” I took an audible breath, this was very cute.

He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, placing his chin on my shoulder. 

“This is very cute.” I said softly then turned my head and kissed his cheek. 

“Come on.” Elvis said gently, pulling away from me, taking my hand in his and pulling me towards the small round table. He let go of my hand and pulled the chairs next to each other so that they were both facing the sea instead of opposite each other. There was a molten chocolate cake with ice cream in the middle and two spoons. 

“Yumm!” I did a little dance, we didn’t have dessert after dinner and I was craving something sweet.

Elvis chuckled and pulled the chair out for me. 

“Let me feed you.” He scooped some of the cake with the ice cream “Open wide.” He grinned. I chuckled and opened my mouth wide for him to feed me.

I moaned, the chocolate so soft and yummy with the vanilla ice cream, the perfect combination. 

“Save those moans for later, don’t get me riled up from now.” He growled in my ear, pulling me closer to him by my waist. 

I giggled and shirked when he bit down on the area that connected my neck with my shoulder. 

“My turn to feed you now.” I twisted in my seat and did the same thing he did. After feeding him I couldn’t help but kiss his lips, he had some ice cream on the corner of his mouth. I poked my tongue out and licked the ice cream off of his mouth. Elvis’ eyes widened, I could see his blue eyes turning a shade darker in lust. 

“Is this turning you on?” I whispered, my lips hovering a few inches over his lips. I cupped his cheek, swiping my thumb gently against his side burns. 

“You have no idea what watching you eat that cake was doing to me.” He whispered. 

I chuckled, pecked his lips and moved back. We continued to feed each other, each taking turns then I laid my head on his shoulder, his arm thrown over my shoulders, drawing little circles on my arm. We sat in silence, watching the waves crash against the sand.

“Are you liking Hawaii so far?” He asked, planting a kiss on the top of my head.

“Yes, it’s so beautiful. The people are so nice and welcoming but maybe its because we’re part of your entourage.” I joked. Elvis chuckled.

“I have a surprise for you tomorrow after rehearsals.” He replied.

“Elvis, this is more than enough.” I looked up at him, keeping my head on his shoulder. He looked down at me, playing with the ends of my hair.

“I want you to actually see the island. I rented a classic top down car.”

“How are we gonna get away from the rest of the group?” I asked. 

“Well pretend we’re tired, go back to our bungalows and then we can go. No one will know.” 

I grinned, excited to actually see the island “Okay.”

The radio started playing a slow song “Dance with me.” I said to Elvis. He smiled and nodded. I removed my shoes and Elvis did the same, we held hands and got closer to the water but standing far enough so that the waves don’t crash on us, just merely touching our feet. 

Elvis wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me as close as possible to him while I wrapped my arms around his neck. I placed my head on his chest, he placed his chin on top of my head. 

I love him. I love him. I love him. My heart was beating out of my chest with the realization of just how much I love him. My mind wandered off imagining us together, getting married, having kids. This is way too soon to be thinking about it but I just knew he would make an amazing father. I felt slight sadness creep into my heart thinking he probably doesn't want to be tied down, why would he? He was the king of rock and roll, he could do whatever he wants with whoever he wants. 

I felt Elvis start to tremble, I frowned and pulled away from his chest. 

“Are you okay?” I asked him. His eyes were glossy as if he was mentally somewhere else.

“Yeah.” He breathed, then looked down at me. He gulped and shook his head, blinking rapidly.

“You’re shaking.” 

“I’m just- Jess-” He sighed, shaking his head again, looking off in the distance “I just haven’t felt such genuine happiness and peace in so long.”

My eyes watered at his honesty.

He looked back at me, unshed tears in his eyes and smiled sadly at me “After my mama passed away I never thought I’d ever be happy.” 

“Elvis.” My voice trembled, I didn’t know what to say. A tear slipped out of my eye, trailing down my cheek.

“I didn’t tell you this for you to cry, baby.” He reached of my cheek and wiped my tear away.

I shook my head “I know but you have no idea how much it makes me happy to hear that Elvis. You-you deserve the world. You give all the time and never receive. I want you to be happy and healthy. This is all that matters, you being happy.” I told him.

“Okay, you’re gonna make me cry now.” He chuckled and leaned his forehead against mine, nuzzling my nose.

I hugged him tightly. 

I love you. 

We held onto each other for a few minutes until Elvis pulled back with a smirk on his face “You wanna go skinny dipping?” 

“Are you sure no one is gonna see us?” I asked, looking around. 

“There are no other bungalows for miles, don’t worry. Plus, it’s dark.” 

“Okay.” I replied “I don’t even wanna argue I just want you to fuck me in the ocean.”

Elvis threw his head back and laughed “I was about to say, you agreed so fast.” 

We quickly removed our clothes along our underwear, running into the water completely naked, hand in hand. 

We went under water and came out. We didn’t go too far into the water, it reached right by my chest.

I swiped my now dripping wet hair back and away from my face, losing the little flower Elvis had tucked into my hair in the sea. Elvis did the same, turning to me with a hug grin on his face, pulling me to him and kissing me passionately. I moaned against his lips, pulling him even closer to me. He kissed down my neck, sucking on my sweet spot causing my eyes to roll to the back of my head in pleasure. I ran my hands through his hair, digging my nails into his scalp. He groaned and pulled back to kiss my lips again. 

“I need you.” I whispered against his lips. 

“I know baby.” 

“I’ve never had sex in the ocean.” I giggled, I felt like I was doing something illegal which it was but its also a private beach.

He pulled back and snickered “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

I gripped his shoulders, Elvis lifting me up to wrap my legs around his waist. I could feel his rock hard cock right on my heat. I moaned jerking my hip forward wanting to relieve the ache I felt between my legs. 

“Hold on.” Elvis chuckled against my chest “So impatient.” He continued to place open mouthed kisses all over my chest then dipping his head even further to lick and nip at my hardened nipples.

I moaned, arching my back “Elvis, please.”

“Only because you begged like a good girl.” He pulled back, smirking. Slowly and gently, he guided himself into me. 

We moaned simultaneously as he entered and thrusted his hips. I hugged him closer to me, tightening my legs around his waist. I kissed down up neck to his ear, sucking and biting on his earlobe.

“Oh fuck, Jess.” Elvis groaned, his fingers digging into my waist. 

“Faster Elvis.” I whispered in his ear.

Without saying anything Elvis sped up his thrusts, I was already pulsating around him. I moved my hips to match his thrusts, chasing my high. 

“I can’t last much longer baby.” Elvis groaned, pounding into me harshly. 

“Me too.” I replied.

Elvis came before me but I was there right after him. The orgasm hit me hard. I moaned, throwing my head back. My mouth hung open, eyes shut tight. I felt Elvis tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Jess. I love watching you come.” He whispered.

“Holy shit. That was amazing.” I sighed, a smile on my face. Unwrapping my legs from around his waist, letting my feet touch the sand I couldn't help but admire Elvis’ face under the moonlight. I could stare at him forever. He still kept his hold on my waist, he nuzzled his face against mine and kissed me once again. 

“Does this Hawaii trip beat the others?” I asked, jokingly.

“100%.” He replied “Let’s go back to the bungalow.”

“You need to sleep, we have a long day tomorrow.” 

“Yes, we’re going to bed and you’re sleeping in my bungalow.” He replied. I opened my mouth to interject “Uh uh, I’m not taking no for an answer. If you’re not sleeping in my room, I’m sleeping in yours.” 

“Okay, okay.” I chuckled. 

Once we were all showered and clean, I was in Elvis’ bed in our hotel robes. Elvis was brushing his teeth, I switched on the TV. I gasped when I saw Blue Hawaii was playing on a random channel and a young Elvis filled the screen. 

“What?” Elvis called from the bathroom.

“Come see who’s on TV.” I giggled. 

Elvis spit out the toothpaste and rinsed then walked back into the room in his bathrobe. 

“Oh god.” He groaned once he saw himself on the TV.

I patted the space next to me in bed, he pulled the covers back and lied down next to me. I was grinning watching him on TV, he looked really cute especially in those little white shorts. 

“Look at how cute you look.” I said and turned to him, kissing his cheek. He bit back a smile, rolling his eyes. 

Turning back towards the TV screen, I watched happily. I giggled literally at everything and couldn’t help but smile whenever Elvis on TV smiled. I could feel Elvis looking at me but I kept my eyes strained on the TV. 

Elvis gripped my cheeks with one hand and turned my face to him “Hey! Stop looking at younger me like that.” He frowned playfully. 

“Like what?” I giggled, his hand still cupping my face. 

He squeezed my cheeks causing my lips to pout automatically “Like you wanna fuck him.”

I grinned “I’d rather fuck you anyway.” 

He grinned, letting go of my face “That’s what I like to hear.”

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[positivexcellence]

‘Walker’: Jensen Ackles Reveals the Bear-Raising Prank He Pulled on Jared Padalecki

You’ve directed Jared before, but this episode gave you an opportunity to torture him in all new ways. That blindfolded obstacle scene—how much did you enjoy putting him through that?

Jensen Ackles: [Laughs] I will say, I wanted to literally make the whole show a Tough Mudder for him. But we didn’t have the time and obviously we needed to service some of the other actors. But I would’ve spent all day watching him go through a variety of obstacles that I had deviously created.

Was there any talk of placing you in the episode anywhere, even for the cameo? Jared told me he wanted a moment where you guys crossed paths.

Well… [Laughs] It’ll be in the outtakes for sure. There was a moment in the concert where I walk by and he and I look at each other, but it was more of a gag. I did it and nobody was expecting it. I just threw the headphones off at the last second and walked into the scene. I think I even had my mask on still, so it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway. But fun fact for you, the episode ends on me.

I thought that might be you coming out of the trailer! The shadows are so heavy…

That’s me! Just look for the bow legs and you’ll see ’em. They hadn’t cast Miles yet—they’d actually pitched it to me. They said, “We have this character and we want to tease him at the end of the episode, but we haven’t cast him yet…unless it’s something you want to do.” But I couldn’t commit to what they needed [time-wise] for the character, so I said “Look, unfortunately, I am already committed to some other stuff. However, if you’re looking to get some ambiguous figure [now] and cast it later, we can shoot that, and instead of hiring some random dude, I will step in. I’ll be the random dude.” [Laughs]

Nice. OK. And who pulled the first prank?

Oooh…who pulled the first prank? The thing with Jared and I is that they’re not even thought out. They just happen. But I think I did the first one, this time. There’s a walk-and-talk he has Ashley Reyes, the new cast member, they walk past a giant stuffed bear—

He’s afraid of bears!

A real-life fear of bears, yes! And it was a big enough bear that we could get one of our smaller assistant directors in a bear suit and so, when he was walking in the middle of the scene—on the second take, not the first take because if he caught wind of it, Ii didn’t want him to be prepared for it—as he passed what was a stuffed bear became animated and jumped out at him. [Laughs]

But he did not run away like a scared child. I must say, he stood his ground!

That’s growth.

He’s growing up. They do that. [Laughs]

Tv Insider

[asirensrage]

there's a heaven above you (don't you cry) - part 6

Rating: M Pairing: Lost Boys/OC Fandom: The Lost Boys Warnings: swearing Summary: The thing no one ever tells you about time travel is that you don’t have any control over where you end up or when you leave. It just happens. It also hurts like a bitch. Notes: This will be a poly pairing, so if you’re not into that, don’t read. previous/masterlist also on ao3

Part 6: Addicted to Love

She did.

She dreamt of people calling her name, of bodies pressed against her and teeth scraping against her neck. She dreamt of being kissed at a concert, pushed up against the wall, her legs wrapped around a waist and being able to feel the bass of the music through it.

Her alarm went off, breaking the dream and forcing her back to reality. She lay there for a moment, trying to remember just who it was she had been dreaming about. No one specifically came to mind, but she was left wanting now that she was awake. She felt oddly empty and alone.

She sat back, feet propped up on the counter while she tried to ignore the heat that was settling in the store. She had opened the store a bit later than usual since she moved slowly after that dream. It was hard to get out of bed knowing she only had a thrift shop waiting for her and not someone to kiss the sense out of her. At least, not like her dream. Which she was remembering less and less as the day went on.

Her hair was pulled up in another high pony with a giant curl pinned up in the front again. It was an easy hairstyle, especially since her braids came loose from the motorcycle rides and how she slept. It also kept her hair off of her neck.

There was a clang of something moving on the other side of the store. She ignored it. The ghost was real in her opinion, even if Sampson didn’t believe in it. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to think that something they had in this place could be haunted.

“Just don’t break anything,” she called out. It took her the entire first week she had worked here to actually get the place in some sort of order.

“Who are you talking to?”

She glanced up to see Clark walking in. He looked around, trying to see who else was in the store.

“The ghost,” she said. “Miss me?”

“Like the plague,” he retorted back, just as fast.

She grinned at the kid. She liked him more and more the longer she knew him. Something about him reminded her of herself. Maybe it was the steadfast determination that he could take care of himself.

“I thought you’d be closed.”

“I got in late,” she said. “Figured I’d stay open later to make up for it. What brings you to my humble abode.”

“Nothin’. My parents were just bagging on me. Needed space.”

“Well, you’re always welcome here while I’m around. In fact, I’ll put you to work.” She ignored the face he made at that and dropped her feet on the ground to grab some change. It was only a couple dollars but she handed it over. “Go grab me a coke and some chips. Just not salt and vinegar.”

He took the money. “Anything else.”

“Whatever you want,” she waved him off. “Just bring me my stuff.”

He left without a word. She put her feet back up and leaned back in her chair. She could probably close without any problem or cash loss, but she had nothing better to do. Might as well stay open.

There was a clang that came from the back. She froze. That wasn’t in the shop. Motherfucker. It was probably the thieves who kept breaking into the donation box. She got up and grabbed the only bat in the tiny sports section they had. There were mainly golf clubs, though why anyone thought they would play golf in this place made no sense to her. She unlatched the back door before kicking it open in order to startle them.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She snarled, raising the bat. The person was bent in front of the open box which still hadn’t fully been fixed. They looked up at her.

“Darcy!”

There was no fear like she had intended. Paul’s face practically lit up as he saw her. “What are you doing here?” His gaze dropped and traced up her bare legs to her shorts and then higher till he reached her face.

“Me?” She pointed the bat at him. “Are you the one who’s been breaking into this thing?”

“What? No,” he closed the door to it quickly and stood up. “I saw it open.”

“Liar. That latch was shut tight. If I find out you’ve been breaking into my donation box--”

“Yours?” He grinned. “This your store?”

“No.” She lowered the bat and placed her free hand on her hip. “But I work here. Now, why the hell are you breaking into my donation box?”

He motioned to his legs. “I need new pants.” His acid-washed jeans had a tear up the side, opening over his thigh.

“And what? You can’t afford to buy them?” She raised her eyebrows, giving him an unimpressed look. “If you can buy pizza and concert tickets, you can buy your own pants.”

“Babe, if I knew you were here, I’d have walked right in.”

She rolled her eyes and turned and walked back inside. Paul followed.

“So this where you’ve been hiding?” He wandered around as she went back behind her counter. She kept the bat at her side. Just in case.

“It’s called having a job.” She leaned on the counter, watching as he pulled different things from the racks, considered them and threw them back. Aside from the rip in his jeans, they also had some rust-brown stains on them. The black shirt he wore seemed fairly intact in comparison. He pulled an old tuxedo jacket from one of the racks and tried it on.

“Aren’t you here for pants?”

“What?” he stepped more into her view and turned. “Don’t like what you see?” He threw her a wink.

“I just don’t want you to waste my time. I’m already open late.”

Paul headed towards her and hopped up on her counter. He turned to face her. “You just waitin’ for me? Or are you planning more vandalism?” His eyes seemed to shine. “Want help? I’ll fuck him up for you.”

“Gee and they say romance is dead,” she said dryly.

Paul burst out laughing. “It is!” he choked out before nearly falling off of the counter in his hysterics.

“Am I interrupting?” Clark stood in the doorway, looking hesitant. His hands were full with the spoils of his search.

Darcy shoved Paul off of her counter. “No, come on, give me my stuff. No chips?”

Clark entered slowly, keeping an eye on Paul as he handed over her drink and a bag of popcorn. “They were out. You alright?”

She gave him a smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Paul is just being obnoxious.”

“She’s so mean,” Paul said with a grin that looked a bit cruel. “Stole my heart and won’t give it back.”

She rolled her eyes and threw a piece of popcorn at him. He tried to catch it with his mouth. “Ignore him,” she said. “Thanks for getting this for me.” She caught Clark���s eye. “You don’t have to stay. It’s cool.” She was well aware of the presence any of them had and she’d rather Clark be gone before the others found Paul. They were never far behind.

“And miss the party?”

Speak of the devil and he appears. She looked over at David. “How do you guys keep finding me?”

“Maybe we can’t stay away,” he suggested. He walked in like he owned the place. Marko was biting at his thumbnail as he followed. Dwayne glanced around quickly before his eyes settled on her.

“I would be so lucky,” she drawled. “Go Clark, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

The kid glanced between them before he nodded and took off. She definitely didn’t blame him one bit.

She glared at the men as some of them glanced his way as he left. “Leave him alone.”

“Who is he?” Marko asked.

“My minion. So I expect he returns to me every day, got it?” She didn’t need them scaring the kid off. He got enough of that with those Surf Nazi assholes.

“He did bring her food,” Paul said with a shrug.

The others moved closer to stand in front of her and she offered the bag of popcorn to Dwayne. He did share a cigarette last time...and she should not have thought about that. The memory of his breath against her skin reminded her of the dream she had had. She ignored the way her face heated and how their eyes darkened in response. Dwayne grinned at her as he took a handful. She pulled it back before the others could take some.

“Not going to share?” David asked.

“No. Why are you here?”

Marko leaned on the counter and grinned at her. “Just want to see you.”

“Do you have-” she cut off her thought. It wouldn’t have made sense to ask if they had tracking chips implanted on each other. Not now at least.

“Have what?” Dwayne asked.

“Bloodhound in your veins? Considering the way you all keep finding each other.”

They laughed harder than she expected at that. She was not that funny. David reached behind his ear, pulling down a cigarette. She hopped up slightly, pressing her stomach into the counter as she pulled it from his hand. He let her take it and she tucked it on the shelf under the counter. “The clothes are clean. I don’t want them to smell before I can sell them.”

The boys seemed to take that as permission to browse the shop.

“Come on, babe, get yourself a better view.” Marko stepped around the counter and made a show of slowly reaching for her.

“Don’t-” she tried to stop him from trying to lift her. He didn’t listen. Instead, his hands grabbed her waist and he lifted her with more ease than she expected from him. He placed her on top of the counter, his hands trailed down her bare legs, goosebumps prickling in their wake and she jolted away, trying not to laugh.

He grinned widely before he moved away. Another hand reached for her, helping her lift her legs as he turned her to face the shop. David stood at her legs, hand on her thigh. The leather of his glove felt cool on her skin despite him wearing it.

“You better not steal anything!” she called out as Marko joined Paul in his search.

“They won’t,” David said. He seemed content to stay next to her and touch her. She lifted the hand from her thigh and dropped it. He just grinned and proceeded to wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to the edge of the counter.

She glanced at him, curious as to why he was still touching her. “Why are you here, David?”

“Why do you think, Darcy?” He turned to look at her. His eyes scanned her face, pausing on her lips before they met hers. His thumb started stroking the bit of skin that showed between her shorts and the shirt she had tied up at her waist.

Her mouth went dry. “You’re stalking me.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Obviously, since I said it,” she snarked back. “I met you once and now you’re everywhere.”

“We’re right where we want to be.”

“Hey, Darcy girl!” Paul called out. “What do you think?” He strutted forward to show off his outfit. She burst out laughing. Apparently, while she was distracted by David and his touch, Paul decided to find the most most vintage dress he could in the place and cram himself in it. It was definitely a challenge considering she tended to swipe the best stuff that came in.

“You really pull that off,” she said.

He looked like he didn’t know whether or not to be offended by it but Marko laughed hysterically. Paul decided to grab him in a headlock.

“Hey!” She yelled, getting ready to jump off the counter. “Hey! Not in the store!”

“Boys,” David cut through, holding her in place. “Outside.”

They glanced at her before they left, each of them shoving each other until they got outside. Dwayne stepped up on her other side and she found herself surrounded again. They smelt like the ocean, leather…and something metallic. It was oddly appealing. Dwayne’s hand touched her thigh and she tried to ignore the cool weight of it.

“Come with us tonight,” David said, leaning slightly closer.

“Come, Darcy,” Dwayne added, his voice a bit softer. She swallowed tightly. God, to take those words in a completely different context.

“No,” she shook her head. “Not tonight.” Dwayne’s hand went a bit higher and David grabbed her chin so she would look at him.

“Darcy,” the world faded around her and it almost sounded as though his voice was echoing. “Come with us.” She heard Dwayne say her name behind her.

She tried to focus, instead of getting distracted by them. She turned away from them, facing forwards. She bit the inside of her cheek, still sore from the other day.

There was a growl next to her before suddenly lips were on hers. The kiss was demanding and she reached up, digging her fingers into thick hair as she parted her lips. She felt his tongue touch the side of her cheek that was bleeding and the grip on her thigh tightened. Dwayne pulled back suddenly, letting go and moving away from her.

She blinked, slightly dazed before David moved in between her legs and pulled her closer to him. His hand went to the back of her neck, holding her in place before he kissed her. He nipped at her lips before deepening the kiss. She clung to the front of his jacket. For all the near-constant desire to hit him, he knew what he was doing. He pulled back slowly before kissing her again, this time harder. It felt more desperate as if he expected her to disappear from his grasp.

The kiss broke. His lips moved across her cheek and jaw before reaching her neck. He paused, burying his nose then pulling back. His eyes met hers. “Still don’t know?” he teased, almost maliciously.

She shook her head.

He leaned forward and nipped at her ear before he stepped back. “You can’t run from us, Darcy.” He grabbed Dwayne and they both seemed to pull each other out of the store.

She sat on the counter, trying to come back to herself. What the fuck just happened?

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[morsartis]

The Bets Are On

You didn't always get dragged along on tours with Marvus, preferring to stay away from the sheer chaos of the limelight. It wasn't that you hated it but you certainly weren't a big fan of having Marvus within reach and yet still not being able to see him. The packed schedule that came with his tours were a drag and you weren't even bound by them. But Ourani and Revell had both asked you to be there, it was important that Marvus and his band were seen in a positive light while on an Earth bound tour. A surprising side effect of the current alliance between the two was the fact bands were allowed to perform on both planets for the first time. It was an opportunity that no one in the entertainment industry could pass up on- not even Marvus. Which was why you were there- they were trying to involve as many humans as possible as a show of good faith. Revell had been the most excited about it as the band's human sensitivity trainer. The fact he wasn't even human in the first place was both amusing and a glaring sign of Alternia's many problems. It'd be insulting if Revell wasn't so serious about his job, often consulting as many humans as he possibly could over the most minute detail and advocating for an actual human to do the training instead of himself. Unfortunately his hands were tied on that front.

Lost in your own thoughts you nearly fell off the chair you were sitting in when Ourani slammed the door to the break room open looking frazzled. His usually slightly wrinkled but tidy clothes were a wreck- tie askew and shirt buttoned wrong with his hair sticking up at odd angles. He looked like he'd survived a mob. "Thaaaat's it! I caaaan't do this aaaanymore! Maaaarvus is driving me to drink!" He shrieked the second the door swung closed behind him. You winced slightly and gave him a sympathetic smile.

"How I've laaaasted this long is aaaa daaaamn mystery!" He continued tossing his clipboard onto the table. You could only imagine what he'd been having to deal with.

"What did he do this time?"

"Whaaaat did he do this time? This time? Its less whaaaat he’s done aaaand more whaaaat he’s going to do! He purposely faaaailed every single humaaaan sensitivity course he waaaas instructed to taaaake! Do you haaaave aaaany ideaaaa how haaaard it waaaas to even get him to those courses? Its like trying to herd feraaaal purr-beaaaasts!” He all but wailed sinking down into the chair opposite from you. It creaked under his weight- built more for humans than adult trolls- and you feared it might collapse under the poor rust blood. The last thing he needed to happen when he was already this close to a break down.

“I know I talk a lot of shit about Marvus but he can’t be that bad.”

Those were clearly the wrong words to say to Marvus’ top personal assistant as Ourani looked at you with an expression bordering on murderous and manic.

“Oh, you think so huh? You think you caaaan haaaandle being Maaaarvus’ Personaaaal Aaaasistaaaant? You think you can do better thaaaan I caaaan? Fine! Why don’t you do my job todaaaay then? He’s got aaaa full schedule aaaand haaaas aaaalreaaaady shown signs of trying to blow it aaaall off!”

“Uh-,”

“Even better ideaaaa! We’ll maaaake aaaa bet out of it. If you caaaan get Maaaarvus to staaaay on traaaack I’ll paaaay some of thaaaat debt you owe to Gorjek.”

“Wh-,”

“Aaaand if you lose? I’ll finaaaally quit!” He was grinning wildly now, eyes bright with glee at the thought of quitting.

“How about if I win you just schedule Marvus a little down time?” You offered instead. Trying to hopefully keep him from losing it further.

“Fine.” He replied looking slightly less like he might jump over the table and throttle you or the next person to walk into the break room. With a more steadying breath Ourani extended his hand to shake on the bet and you gladly took it. Anything to keep him from going full American Psycho on everyone there. You both nearly lept out of your skins when his phone went off to let him know his short break was over. "How about that bet starts now and you go home to get some actual sleep?" You offered, Ourani nodded vigorously to that already shoving his clipboard into your hands. He couldn't seem to get out of there fast enough it seemed. You hoped he'd get some actual rest, the poor guy was one of the most overworked people on the job. Glancing down at the clipboard you winced. Ourani really wasn’t kidding when he said Marvus had a full schedule, looks like you could kiss any other plans you had today goodbye. Straightening out your clothes you went to go find Marvus- wherever he could have gotten. Most likely he wouldn’t be trying to hide from you. He’d be expecting Ourani to be the one trying to hunt him down.

You’d been wandering for five minutes when you finally found him. He was actually where he was supposed to be- chatting with his bandmates who immediately perked up to see you.

“Oh shit! Look who it is.”

“Hey guys, mind if I steal Marvus away for a second?” You asked cheerfully. His bandmates had a soft spot for you and it was easy to get them to agree. Their soft spot would make this bet a little easier to win, hopefully.

“Whatchu need babes?” Marvus asked once the two of you had gotten far enough away. You smiled up at him warmly. "Well, first off-," You grabbed the sides of his purple jacket to pull him down closer to your height, "I'd like a kiss." "Shit babe, all you had ta do was ask." He grinned leaning into you. His arm carefully wrapped around your waist as he tilted your chin up to get better access. You huffed a small laugh as he gave your lip a small nip before kissing you. Letting your eyes close for a brief moment to fully enjoy the kiss you cupped his jaw with your hands before regretfully having to pull back- Marvus attempting to follow you. "Secondly," You murmured interrupted by another brief kiss, "You have a meeting in two minutes." "What." You grinned at his flat off guard tone. Not being able to help yourself as you giggled. "I have your entire schedule for the day." "No."

"Mm, yes."

"Babe-,"

"You also have a meeting with Revell to talk about those courses you flunked out of."

"How-,"

"Ourani went home for the day, I'm gonna be your PA so he can actually get some sleep."

"Oh?"

"Don't get any ideas." You interrupted already knowing where his mind was going, "I'm going to make sure you get through your entire schedule whether you like it or not."

"C'mon, just give me an hour." "I might consider it-," He grinned, "After we get through your schedule."

Marvus pouted.

“Work Marvus. Focus on work.”

“Aww, but you be lookin’ so cute when you take charge.”

“And you’ll be a lot more appealing when you actually do your job.”

“Damn.” He muttered under his breath already standing back up to his full height. “Alright baby, guess we cans go to this meeting.”

It looked, at least for the moment, you might actually win this bet.

Then again, you had yet to get him to go to his meeting with Revell. For some reason those two couldn’t stand each other- you’d zoned out briefly during one of his rants only catching something vague about their ancestors that only confused you more. Revell was actually a kind troll though his threshold for what he dubbed ‘highblood nonsense’ was practically nonexistent. He seemed rather fascinated by human culture, often asking you questions on things he didn’t quite understand- some of his questions not even you could answer with any degree of accuracy. But, Marvus and him were known for their fights. Not even in the pitch leaning way either. You had yet to witness their fights but Ourani had talked about them looking pale and shaky- considering the fact that he’d been witness to the usual Alternian concert slaughter fests that happened with Marvus you had to admit you were afraid to see what could shake him like that. If Marvus' PR team was surprised to see him actually at the meeting they didn't say, though they seemed happy to see you with him. Taking your seat next to Marvus you glanced down at the schedule again. He had this meeting, his meeting with Revel, an autograph signing, and then a meeting with a lesser known human band you hadn't even heard of. Knowing Marvus all of these would be a few hours each.

“You bein’ awfully quiet over there.” Marvus murmured to you while his PR team bickered. You glanced up from the clipboard you’d been staring a hole through to give him a flat look. Better to not put him on edge.

“Just trying to figure out how to get you from point A to point B.”

“C’mon baby I ain’t that bad.”

“Ourani would beg to differ.”

“Then he can fuckin’ beg.”

You smacked his arm earning a small chuckle as he turned back to the meeting.

This was going to be a very long day.

[malereader-inserts]

You’re My Dad (Boogie Woogie)

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Peter Parker & Male!Reader Summary: You are my dad! You’re my dad (boogie woogie woogie) Word Count: 1,507 Request:  hello! how are you? can i request a platonic peter parker x male reader where reader likes to take care of peter, like cook him meals, give him snacks when he's studying or just give him snacks when he sees peter lounging. and maybe reader and tony are dating A/n: You sent a hefty request, hopefully I got everything in - I really hope that your cousin will enjoy this though!

Peter Parker was no stranger to death. 

His parents were killed when he was a young boy and his uncle was shot when he was only a teenager. He only had his Aunt May until he didn’t. She was driving back from work and got in an unfortunate accident. 

Peter Parker was no stranger to death, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have a family. 

Tony and you took him when you heard about the accident. Peter was still a kid, he’s still a teenager and you wouldn’t stand for him to go to foster care. You have known Peter since Tony asked him to join him in Germany. How Tony asked if Peter if he wanted to intern under him. 

After all, you were Tony’s boyfriend for quite a while so when Peter slept over at Tony’s house, you were there. You would cook meals for your two science boys and remind them to take a break from their long science experience. Peter saw you and Tony as father figures, the men he really looked up after his Uncle Ben had passed away. 

Tony didn’t have the greatest childhood, he vowed to himself and you if you happen to adopt that he will be the best father any child could as for and you’ve seen him pick up calls from a lovely boy called Harley, which you have met a few times, and will always drop anything to have a conversation. You saw how Tony acted with Peter, to see pride and joy, you couldn’t help but smile at your boyfriend.

You had a great childhood, you grew up with loving parents and loving yet bratty siblings. Your childhood wasn’t quiet and always fun - your parents valued making memories with their children, so your parents took you and your siblings to sporting events, festivals (age-appropriate), holidays. They were strict, but you could recall how they let you sleepover with friends and bring friends over, you can remember how they let you go to concerts with your friends and/or siblings.

You kept that family love in your heart and Peter really felt it.

Peter wasn’t much of a sports person, but when he was in the presence of you and Tony, he doesn’t mind much. 

“Listen, kid,” You say, ruffling his hair, “You’re part of the Avenger family and you’re a superhero with wicked abilities - you know for the fact that Rogers and Romanov will not go easy on you in training.”

“He’s right,” Tony calls from behind, not looking up from his work as Peter groans.

“But, you could totally avoid intense training if you told them that you do sports with me, nothing too heavy,” You smiled, as Peter thinks it over.

“Like what?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, we could play baseball? The good all hit and run style. Or maybe volleyball, you pick the sport that week and we’ll do it.”

“Do you even have the equipment?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Peter, honey, you’re currently in the home of a Stark - you think Tony doesn’t have these things on standby.”

“I don’t know, he doesn’t seem to be an athletic type.”

“I heard that!” Tony exclaimed as the two of you laugh. 

When Peter moved in for the final time, Peter felt like he was somewhat out of place. He had a room at the Stark-(L/n) residence and he would spend nights, if not weekends, at theirs but he felt like he was intruding. It was a sudden change in Peter’s environment.

And yet, he felt warm in the house, whilst it really messed with his head for the past few days - you and Tony were slow with the process. You never pushed him out of his comfort zone. You helped him put up the stuff of his family around the house to allow him to heal.

You weren’t in The Avengers, so you had a lot of free time. Instead of working in an office, you created things to sell on the internet, it was a hobby because Tony insist you live a lavish life. But, that doesn’t stop you from working around the house. Peter was often met with delicious smelling food, whilst you had a rule that he would cook his own lunch if he didn’t have school and you would cook dinner for everyone. 

You, Tony and Peter, would sit down together with each other, talking about Peter’s day at school and how Tony is dealing with things with Avengers and Stark Enterprise despite Pepper being in charge of that. Even after eating, sometimes you’ll dig into some dessert and talk about shared interest such as music and shows.

If you guys are watching a series together, you’ll update them on lore or when the next episode is being dropped out. If it’s about a shared interest in music, you would happily indulge in what music has been released recently. 

Peter and Tony will happily clean after dinner, one will washing up and the other doing drying.

“You know we have a dishwasher right?” Tony called through as he hands Peter a soaked plate.

“And?” You called back, “It’s called responsibilities, I will not have lazy boys in my house!”

Peter chuckled as he put the plate down and takes the wet glass, he doesn’t mind the chores you ask him to do. You teach him lessons in life because sometimes just hanging around with you felt like home to him.

“You know how to work the washing machine, right Pete?” You asked, standing in the doorway of his room looking at the floor of dirty clothes.

“I’ll pick it up - I promise, but, um not really? Aunt May usually go to the laundrette.”

“Alright, when your laundry basket gets full, I’ll show you how to work the washing machine and dryer. I don’t mind doing your washing but every now and then, you can do it.”

“Yeah, that’ll be fine!”

When Peter fully settles into the house, he found himself loving his life. He loves watching you bicker with Tony about the stupidest things - mostly over characters in a show or film. In which, most of the time, he backs you up because the two of you are major geeks over shows and movies. 

Peter noticed how much you care for him, knocking on his door and reminding him to drink water and always coming to his room to deliver snacks ranging from a healthy plate of the juiciest fruits to unhealthy sweets.

Whilst both of you were in Peter’s life, he saw you more as comfort - it was taking a while for Peter to adjust with Tony, he still see it as a mentor and student sort relationship. But, with you, he sees someone who he could come to for any troubles with school and relationships. 

Peter walked into the living room, hearing how you and Tony were bickering over which character was better in Game of Thrones in each house. Peter couldn’t help but laugh about it.

“Hey, kid! Tony greeted with a wave, placing the hand back on your shoulder.

You smiled at Peter, “Heya Pete!”

“Hi Mr Stark, hi dad!”

Silence.

The only thing that was playing was the show in the background as Peter stood in his spot in utter fear. Tony sat there in silence as he looks over at you, you slowly got up from your seat without saying a word and made your way to Peter.

Peter looked at you with wide eyes, “I- I mean...!”

You engulfed him into the biggest hug you could muster. One hand on his back and the other in his hair, Peter found himself relaxing as he immediately wrapped his arms around you and grip you tight. You brushed his hair as he buried his face into your shoulder.

You release him, in fear that you might suffocate him, “I’m really honoured.”

“I-” Peter turns red, looking down for a moment before looking at you, “You are my dad, to me.”

You smiled widely at him, “Okay, celebration time, let’s bake cookies!”

You lead the way as Peter offers to help, the two of you pull your sleeves up as you bring the ingredients onto the counter. Tony followed, silently watching with a fond smile upon his face. He ruffles Peter’s hair with a smile as Peter beams at him.

“Alright, what can I help with?” Tony asked as you asked him to bring out the kitchen utensils, “Oh and Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“What about me?” Tony pouts as Peter widen his eyes as you laugh loudly.

“Tough luck baby, it looks like Pete favours me,” You teased as Tony scoffed.

“No, unacceptable, I’m taking Peter for a week out, I’ll be the favourite parent.”

You roll your eyes as you look over to Peter whilst Tony rant, shaking your head and nodding your head towards your boyfriend, as you mouthed to Peter “Get a load of this guy.”

Peter smiles.

Peter knows death, but he’s well acquainted with family.