#article writing contest

[riinawriter]

“The average novel is written at a 7th–8th grade reading level. Simplicity is powerful.”

Join my writing contest or reading club HERE

[superbat-lmao]

Jason becomes GothamPoet on twitter and writes little haikus about the city.

Gargoyles above

Grey fog rolls off the river

Bats fly in the dark

A gunshot below

my window. The paint chips like

flakes of red black blood.

Sirens and barking

Paw prints in muddy grass blades

Glinting silver cuffs

Footsteps on rooftops

Capes slide on my fire escape

White eyes in black smoke

Thorns crushed on sidewalks

Powder dusting over boots

White wilted petals

The parking garage

By the hospital is cold

In the August heat

He gains a small underground following. It’s mostly about life in the city, sometimes vigilantes or rogues. There is little nature in Gotham except for Ivy’s vines. On the day the Joker dies he posts:

The death of laughter

pulled from bloody teeth. A smile

of rigor mortis.

[archiesweirdparody]

Finally finished the article Ive been writing for a few months ☺️☺️ yay!!!

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Cosmo Tips 🦇

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: On Halloween, Eddie finds Cosmo's "Top Ten Kisses to Spice Up Your Love Life."

Word Count: ~3.4k

Warnings: So much kissing, suggestiveness, Eddie is so in love with you

A/n: I'm glad I'm back for another Eddie Halloween fic 🎃 He's so goofy, I had to write this idea. And of course, include spider-man 🕷️🕸️

“Eddie?” you muttered out of the side of your mouth, your lips still occupied with kissing his. You watched his eyebrow raise in question, which — in any other situation — you shouldn’t have been able to see while kissing. 

“I don’t think,” you began in between another kiss, looking at the soft brown of his eyes, “this one’s quite working.”

Eddie pulled away with a sigh, pushing his hair out of his face. He reached for the open magazine sitting on the couch next to you both. You just gave him a soft smile, a closed one, while rubbing your hand along his bicep.

“It says right. here.” he told you with a sigh, pointing his finger on the magazine article, “that kissing with your eyes open is supposed to, uh… ‘burn a fiery desire in your belly.’ Are you feeling a fiery desire?”

Your mouth flattened into a straight line, your head tilted to the side. “Maybe a sooty ember? It sorta felt like we were having a staring contest.” You leaned into him, resting along the crook of his neck.

“Yeah, and I was winning it,” he said, making a snort leave your throat. You felt the muscles of his face curve into a brief smile as he grabbed the magazine.

“You know, I’m not sure we should be taking romantic advice from Cosmo, Eds.” You muttered the words against the collar of his shirt, and after the other failed attempts, it certainly wasn’t the first time you’d said it. 

Eddie had taken the Cosmopolitan magazine from the doctor’s office and excitedly told you about all the gossip and sex tips in it. And of course, he needed a volunteer to really see how well these tips worked.

The first one, which had you on the kitchen counter with Eddie standing between your legs, had bruised your ego a bit — the unsexy attempts to jump onto the annoyingly high counters and the crumbs sticking to your thighs had not inspired any fiery desires. And the second one extinguished it all together, where you both held ice cubes in your mouths so your lips and tongues would be cold while kissing. Except your teeth were way too sensitive for the ice, and Eddie had nearly choked on his ice cube.

And kissing with your eyes open hadn’t reignited anything. You let out a sigh. “They make these things look a lot sexier in movies. And easier.”

Eddie continued reading down the list. As your hand moved to his leg, you began running your palm along his thigh. The soft material of his sweatpants were warm from his body heat. Maybe you could salvage the moment…

“Okay, babe, one last one. I think we could make it work,” he told you, pulling out of your grasp and standing up.

Or not. 

Slowly, you stood up after him, folding your arms over your chest. You watched him read the tip a second and then a third time. You found yourself unable to hold a laugh back. “And I think that you owe me big after all this.”

Eddie faced you, grabbing your wrists and uncrossing your arms. He placed them over his shoulders before his hands went to your waist. The weight of him felt heavy against you, the warmth from him almost intoxicating. He walked you backward, one careful step at a time. His mouth hovered right in front of yours. 

You arched into him, finally finding relief rather than following that stupid list. Silently, you begged him to just close the gap. The tip of his nose brushed along yours. You were seconds away from just kissing him yourself when your back collided with something hard, your head hitting it a moment later.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie said, panicked and eyes wide.

Meanwhile, a long groan fell from your mouth. Your hand reached back to hold your head, feeling a dull throbbing radiate along your skull. Eddie pulled you into his arms, walking the two of you back to the couch. You realized that you’d been leaning against the wall of your apartment.

“Are you okay? Do you need any ice?” he asked, pulling away. He gently pushed against your hand, silently asking whether he can take a look at the back of your head.

You let him. “I’m fine, just a little dazed,” you laughed out, wincing slightly when his fingers brushed along the spot where a bruise was likely to form.

“Sorry,” he muttered as he continued looking.

“Was this another one of Cosmo’s greatest sex tips? Cause I don’t think head injuries are the smoothest way to get someone all hot and bothered.”

Eddie finished checking you over and pulled you back into his embrace. “I’m throwing away that stupid magazine. Maybe I’ll burn it. Or rip it to shreds.”

“You could rip it up and then burn it,” you offered.

“God, you’re a genius, baby.”

You answered with a distracted hum. The rise and fall of Eddie’s chest against yours made the ache in your skull a little less painful. “Maybe Cosmo’s tips are spicing up our sex life a bit too much.”

“Maybe,” he said, trailing his hand up to cup your jaw, “Comso’s tips are actually too bullshit for our sex life.” Drawing you back to look him in your eyes, he traced his thumb along your cheek before pressing his lips to yours. You leaned into their softness and warmth, letting your mind turn blank.

Until your landline began to ring. Eddie pulled away, grimacing at the interruption. “You alright if I go get it?” Eddie asked you, dragging his gaze across your face.

You nodded your head. “Only if I don’t have to fight any more walls tonight.”

“Deal.” His lips pressed a kiss to your nose, rising from the couch and pressing another to your forehead. 

Resting back against the couch, you listened to him answer and talk to whoever was on the other side. Though it didn’t take long to figure out who it was.

“Christ, Harrington. That’s what you interrupted my makeout sesh for?” he asked into the receiver.

Your eyes widened, your body shooting forward as you sent a shocked look across the room. With gritted teeth, you admonished him. “Eddie!” You mouthed at him to stop as his cheshire grin widened.

“Oh, so now I can’t talk about my beautiful, amazing, hot, intelligent, sexy girlfriend anymore?” He put his hand on his hip, shaking his head. “Where’s the humanity in that? Steve, put this poor man out of his misery.”

His eyebrows slightly furrowed as he listened to Steve, the tip of his tongue sticking out in focus. “Okay, so I can talk about her? Great,” he said, settling in as he leaned against the wall. “Let me start with her ethereal soul capable of all things good in this world followed by the way no man deserves to even perceive her divine body. Then let’s go with her rockin’ pair of-”

“Eddie!” you said again, cutting him off before he could talk about that. And you weren’t the only one, hearing the loud interruption from Steve on the other side of the phone.

“Eyes! Her rockin’ pair of eyes. Get your mind out of the gutter,” Eddie finished, mock disappointment in his voice. 

You couldn’t help but roll your “rockin’ pair of eyes” at him as that smirk covered his face again. You watched as he sighed and said, “Yeah, yeah. Got it, Mama Harrington.”

After hanging up, Eddie made his way back, flopping his body onto yours. His arms wrapped tight around you as he shoved his face in the crook of your neck. He snuggled closer, and the hum from his throat vibrated along your chest.

“So are you going to tell me what Steve said?” you asked, rubbing a hand down his back.

“Oh!” Eddie said, as if he’d already forgotten. “He said to be at his place by eight sharp since we’re bringing the snacks.”

You hummed, slowly nodding. “Like the snacks you bought for this Halloween party and then promptly finished by the following morning?”

“Those would be the ones…”

“So,” you began, narrowing your eyes at him as he avoided the point, “we need to get ready now so we can swing by the grocery store and make it on time then, right?”

The groan Eddie let out rumbled from deep in his chest. But you simply raised your hand and smacked it down right on his ass. “Come on. Go face the consequences of your actions.”

Slowly, he raised himself from you, his expression sinking into a grimace from a few inches away. “You were a lot cuter when we were making out.”

Despite his protests, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips before pushing himself up and making his way to the bedroom. A stupidly happy grin covered your face as you got ready as well. It sat there as you pulled your outfit on and as you adjusted the red wig on your head.

In the bathroom mirror, you saw the door creak open to reveal flashes of red and blue and black. Slowly, you turned, eyeing him up and down. “Well hey there, Spidey.”

Clad in a Spider-Man costume, customized by the man himself, Eddie walked over to you. With his hands on your hips, he said, “Hey there, Mary Jane.”

Your fingers crawled up to his neck, your thumb tracing back and forth across his cheek. You leaned in and kissed him through the mask. But as you opened your mouth to tell him that it was time to go, his fingers grasped the edge of the mask.

Eddie had barely pulled it off before bringing you in close and kissing you again. His breath came heavy against your cheek, his fingers pressing into your skin. As much as it pained you, your hands came to push gently at his chest.

“Easy there, tiger,” you breathed out with a grin. You reluctantly slipped out of his grasp, grabbing his hand to pull him toward the front door. 

“Easy there?” he asked in disbelief from behind. “There’s nothing easy about how you look right now. In fact, if you ask me, things back here are getting pretty hard.”

You shot a glare back his way as the two of you walked to the van. “Hard like the wall you shoved my head into?” you jokingly asked, thinking again that there wouldn’t be any hard problem had you two not taken kissing tips from Cosmo.

Eddie reached his other hand to caress the back of your head. “Babe, I will spend the rest of my days redeeming myself. You know I’d fight that wall for you.”

You giggled, squeezing his hand before climbing into the van. “Or you could just get us to the store and Steve’s place on time,” you offered with a sweet smile, buckling your seatbelt. “Oh, and love me forever. There’s that part too.”

He beamed at you, his grin crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Now that I can do,” he said. 

He held your gaze as his fingers reached for the radio dial, cranking the Black Sabbath song playing even louder. You merely leaned back against your seat, watching him shake his head and drum his fingers on the steering wheel while he drove. 

And after you had a bag full of every kind of junk food to exist, the two of you walked up to Steve’s apartment. You continued to adjust your shirt, your jeans, your wig all the way to his door until Eddie grabbed your wrist with a gentle hand.

Even from behind the mask he’d just put back on, you knew the lovesick expression he wore. The one that told you everything you needed to hear.

You only looked away when the door swung open, revealing Steve in a pilot’s jacket and aviator sunglasses. 

“Looking fly there, Mav,” you told him, offering the bag of snacks to him. Meanwhile, Eddie posed beside you with his hands out as if he were shooting webs at Steve.

Nodding his head at your words, Steve replied, “You two nerds don’t look too bad yourselves,” before inviting you both in. His place, except for the counter where he began setting up the food, was covered in decorations — everything from spider webs to orange and purple lights to rows of pumpkins. You recognized the jack-o-lantern designs from last weekend, when all of you spent the day carving and throwing pumpkin seeds at one another. 

Eddie’s intricate design of the Hellfire Club logo sat next to your carving of a cat wearing a witch’s hat, which sat next to Steve’s unfortunate attempt at a skeleton’s face — but the teeth had fallen off, leaving the skull looking a bit gummy even without any gums. 

And as you heard Nancy and Robin’s voices from the next room over, you could take a good guess as to who helped him decorate (and forced him to display his failed jack-o-lantern). And as if on cue, Nancy came out in a similar looking leather flight jacket and aviator glasses — Charlie from Top Gun you guessed. But what threw you into a fit of giggles was Robin coming out in a full flight suit, her hair piled on top of head to look short, and a fake blonde mustache. 

From behind you, Eddie said, “Are you a porn star playing a pilot?”

“She’s Goose,” you loudly whispered to him.

Robin crossed her arms over her chest. “Top Gun was the only idea Steve wasn’t a total wuss about for our group costume.”

“Yeah, well you wanted to go as Pumpkinhead, Robin,” Steve shot back while Robin adjusted her fake mustache.

Not long after, you could hear the gaggle of kids outside the door — along with a heavy sigh from Johnathan as you swung the door open to reveal him standing surrounded by the kids. Their costumes looked familiar, especially Dustin’s Hawaiian shirt, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

In an instant, the kids pushed past you, talking over one another about candy already. Meanwhile, you cocked your head at Johnathan still standing there — in a gray tank top with the sleeves cut off and red bandana.

“The Goonies,” Johnathan muttered, his voice clearly tired from wrangling the kids. 

You made a quiet “ah” noise, raising your eyebrows. You give him a kind smile, letting him in and pointing him toward the drinks. 

As you helped Steve finish putting everything together, endless laughter filled in the gaps of silence. You watched the smiles etched onto every person’s face and couldn’t help grinning in return. “Monster Mash” played in the background, Robin was ranting about the themes of different “final girls,” the kids were throwing M&Ms into each other's mouths across the room, and you were grabbing a handful of candy to keep you going for the night.

And the party continued like that — blurring between catching up and laughing so hard your stomach began to ache. Or maybe that was from the obscene amount of candy you ended up eating. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not as the smell of popcorn filled the air and the TV lit up.

The group had settled on — unsurprisingly — Ghostbusters once again. The theme song started while everyone gathered on and around the couch, which included Mike and Lucas fighting over one of the many available blankets. 

But you walked over to Steve pouring the popcorn into large bowls and whispered, “Hey, do you mind if I hang out in your room for a minute?”

He turned to you, his eyebrows furrowing for a second. “Course. You okay?”

Waving him off, you said, “Yeah, just need a little break from all the commotion.”

A quiet huff left his mouth as he shook his head. “Don’t blame you. Not with–” his head whipped to the side. “Dustin, put that down!”

You just grabbed a handful of popcorn before backing away slowly. You giggled as you crept away to Steve’s room down the hall. Keeping the door ajar, you let out a long sigh. You pushed the wig hair out of your face and sunk down to the floor, your back resting against the frame of his bed. You leaned your head back and listened to the muffled sounds of the party.

Quietly snacking on the popcorn, you sat there enjoying the time alone. And just as your jaw was beginning to unclench, you heard the door creak open. You cracked an eye open, bracing yourself for more commotion, but peaked over to find Spider-man walking over to you. 

“You left,” Eddie said, quite astutely, the words nearly coming out as a whine. You closed your eyes again as he climbed onto Steve’s bed behind you.

“You’re a little needy, you know that?” you muttered with a grin, no bite behind your words. He settled on his back beside you, his head barely hanging off the edge.

He bumped his temple against yours. “But you love me.”

Your smile widened, soft and sincere. “Yeah,” you breathed out. Humming softly, you leaned further into him. Loose curls of his tickled your cheek as you tilted your head his way.

The weight on the mattress shifted again. When you opened your eyes, you were face to face with an upside down Eddie, who had scooted his head farther off the mattress. It almost felt like the air around you both had shifted, electrified.

Your gaze flitted between his warm eyes and soft lips, his breath ghosting across your skin. His hand moved to rest along your cheek, the tips of his gloved fingers holding your neck. 

He still made your stomach flip when he looked at you like this. Like nothing else existed in his eyes but you. 

All you could do was whisper, “Hi.”

A slight smile crossed his face. “Hi,” he whispered back. And thankfully, he pressed his lips to yours so you didn’t have to search your clouded brain for words.

His touch left a trail of heat in its wake, from his mouth to his nose nudging yours to his palm cradling your jaw. The feeling of kissing him upside down was different, but with each push and pull of him against you, the more you melted into it. 

Your hand curled into his hair, your grip growing tighter as your breathing grew heavier. His tongue slipped past your lips. You felt the quick beating of his pulse against your skin, and every inch of your body sparked alive.

A near whine fell from you when Eddie pulled away, but it quickly turned into a soft sigh when you felt him move down. From this angle, he easily kissed along your neck. You tilted your head back to give him more access.

“Eddie…” you whispered out, and you swore you felt a grin against your skin. When you couldn’t take anymore and you began pulling him toward you off the bed, a loud chorus of laughter erupted from the living room — making you jump and reminding you that the outside world existed.

Eddie nearly landed on you, a quiet groan leaving his mouth as he hit the ground. Quick breaths still fell from your mouth, your tongue licking your lips in his absence. 

With a slight scowl, Eddie rubbed his back. But it quickly disappeared when you replaced your hand with his and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“So…” Eddie said with that distracting smile of his, “did that ‘burn a fiery desire in your belly’?”

You nudged him with your arm, playfully rolling your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“That wasn’t a no, sweetheart,” he pointed out, his voice deeper than usual. And he wasn’t wrong, you thought, while your body still calmed itself — which was never an easy task with him so close.

You kissed him again, slowly this time, to savor the feel of him. The hungry look he gave you as you pulled away said that he was going to stoke that fire until it burned you alive. And you were happy to let him, but Dustin’s voice called from the living room, telling you two to come back or you’d miss the best part. 

Hand-in-hand, you two made your way back, sitting on the floor with your back surrounded by your friends. The movie and company were good, but you found yourself happily watching Eddie the entire night instead.

[saerins]

°୨୧ NO CONTEST

+ kaiser x f!reader | wc 2.8k | content: fluff, friends to lovers, slight hints of jealousy, mentions of alcohol, they go clubbing

notes: help me i think i made myself fall for this guy even more after writing this shit for him > ⤙ <

summary: being just friends doesn’t mean much when neither of you really want to keep it that way. problem is, will either of you make the first move?

SPOTTED: KAISER-KAIA DUO HIT THE STREETS, NEW BUDDING ROMANCE?

“i like you though, y/n.”

it’s spring and the weather outside is the nicest it’s ever been in a while and you have every chance to enjoy it except for the fact that dear michael kaiser is lounging on your couch, rifling through the magazine he got in the mail.

“right, haha, very funny,” you mumble sarcastically, slumping down onto the other couch where kaiser isn’t sprawled all over.

sometimes, you think it’s funny how he’s portrayed as this hot, sexy, confident soccer player who can do no wrong when it comes to matters with his looks, but then in private he’s like… well, this. his bed head’s a mess, his room slippers are the fluffy-fuzzy kind, and much less high maintenance than everyone makes him out to be. (but you have to stop yourself from staring because kaiser doesn’t sleep in anything but his sweatpants during this season and well, where his abs are concerned, he’s definitely got no problems there.)

kaiser sighs in the overdramatic fashion that’s probably his trademark right about now. “y/n, y/n, what do i have to do to make you believe me?” he turns around, smirking at you as he raises a brow. maybe it’ll work on his countless fangirls, but after being friends with him for over six years, you’re probably immune to it.

“maybe you can just shut up and get ready for your event later.” you roll your eyes, sauntering to the kitchen to get yourself some breakfast, automatically making two of everything because kaiser loves to crash your apartment in the morning. (he really does need to learn about personal space.)

breakfast preparations go quietly. kaiser listens to you—he shuts up and starts getting ready for his event before coming back into your apartment, all fresh and ready to shamelessly eat the breakfast you made, staring at you from across the table whenever you’re not looking like he always does.

“kaiser-kaia duo hit the streets, new budding romance?”

“miko, don’t tell me you’re reading that gossip rag too,” you whine, looking for any excuse not to dive into your pile of work for the day.

your colleague swivels her chair over to your cubicle, looking around to make sure your bosses aren’t around to witness the both of you slacking off. “hey, isn’t he your friend? give me the tea! are they really dating?”

leave it to miko to get all excited about dating rumours. you really don’t know what’s so special about them—kaiser’s gotten so many of them ever since, well, forever. even before he became a soccer superstar.

you remember what kaiser said in the morning. “i like you though, y/n.” always ready with that smooth tongue of his. that aside, if he really was dating someone, you bet that they’d be staying over with him more often than not, and there’s really no harm in rejecting a rumor as opposed to confirming one.

“nope, they just happened to be waiting for a cab at the same spot.” and paparazzis love to snap a shot from misleading angles. now that you’re really looking at the article, they managed to make it look like kaiser’s kissing her cheek. you find yourself rolling your eyes at it and looking away.

miko sighs, leaning back against her chair. “man, that sucks, they look cute,” she comments, scrolling away from the online article before she gives you a suspicious side eye. “hey, you sure you’re not dating him?”

you still a little at the sudden line of questioning before turning your attention back to your laptop equally quickly. “if i was, i wouldn’t be so free all the time now, would i?” a response to which miko shrugs off and decides to let go of as she retreats back to her desk.

as much as you love miko as your colleague, you haven’t been as honest with her as you could. she knows you’re friends with kaiser, yeah, but she doesn’t know he’s basically your neighbour. she doesn’t know that he comes over all the time whenever it’s off season. she doesn’t know that the both of you have fallen asleep next to each other on the couch.

she doesn’t know a lot of things—like how your heart’s beating erratically now at the notion of being someone special to kaiser. it’s always been sweet nothings that you thought would stay that way, and you’ve always been short at realising your own feelings, so much so you were, once upon a time, positive you had zero romantic feelings for your friend.

now? you’re not so sure anymore.

seven days pass and kaiser’s been pestering you every single moment you’re free—like he always does—but today’s kind of a special day because it’s your birthday and it’s an hour away from your dinner party yet you’re not even close to ready.

your hair’s wet, you’re still in your loungewear, you have no idea what to wear and kaiser’s just flipping through the channels, half bored to death. for his part, at least, he’s already ready.

it’s not even fair how he takes just half an hour to get ready and yet he looks like he does. hair perfectly soft, and he’s wearing a nice black suit with a wine red dress shirt underneath, his tattoos peeking out here and there. if he wasn’t a soccer player, he’d definitely either be a model or a very charming businessman.

“too handsome for you?” kaiser smirks as he catches you looking, and you have to spin on your heels to avoid getting flustered (to his face).

“shut up, kaiser, i haven’t found anything to wear,” you groan, making a beeline for your bedroom. you really wished your friends hadn’t booked a high-end restaurant for little old you—then you could literally just throw on anything and be done with it.

kaiser, completely comfortable in your apartment, strolls into your bedroom with you and starts browsing through your closet, ignoring your protests. within seconds, he finds a dress and holds it out, a lopsided smile filling his face. “how about this?”

the wine red satin dress hovers in front of you, and you have to swallow the lump in your throat before you speak, feeling the line getting blurry. “trying to get me to coordinate outfits with you or something?”

you’re trying your best but your voice quivers just a little bit, and you bet that smug smile on his face that he can hear it. “why not? we look good together,” he shrugs, as though it’s no big deal but it’s hard to stop yourself from overthinking when lately the two of you have been flirting more often and serious than usual.

rolling your eyes and trying not to be too late, you grab the dress from him and change into it, spending some time to yourself to recollect, internally cursing him for being able to make you this flustered over nothing at all.

by the time you come back out into the living room, hair all done and accessories settled, this time, kaiser’s the one who’s caught staring, shameless in the way his eyes drag over you from head to toe. you’d tease him for it, but you’re not entirely sure you’re ready for his comeback so you refrain.

as you grab your go-to black heels and sit down to strap them on properly, kaiser’s quick to offer a hand, his lithe fingers taking your heel from you, slowly inserting your feet, his eyes lingering on your face and his thumb rubbing circles around your ankle. your eyes are glued to his own, and somehow it makes you even more nervous when he’s not joking around. when he looks at you like this—serious, like he’s trying to tell you something without saying anything at all.

the way he ties the straps are gentle and precise, tight but not too tight that it’ll hurt you. you’ve jokingly told him to help you tie your shoelaces before but he’s always refused. yet now he’s helping you put on your heels on both feet without saying a word and the way his hand lingers on your calf when he’s done is enough to make you melt.

on some other day, you’d joke with him and get him to let go. today, you’re silent.

kaiser chuckles, though, his hand casually brushing up your calf slightly before he pulls away, gently patting your head as he gets up.

“let’s go.”

dinner is agonising, enjoyable, agonising.

it’s nice; being seated around a table, enjoying small talk and nonsense with the same group of friends, catching up with people like kaiser and ness who’s been away a lot because of their profession.

yeah, that part’s nice. what’s agonising about it all is how close kaiser is to you, how his right hand casually drapes around your shoulder from time to time, shifting down to your thigh sometimes, making you go crazy.

it’s not like the both of you haven’t been close before, but you feel like maybe this time, it’s different. it’s not just the close proximity, it’s the intimacy of it all that has you inwardly keeling over. what’s worse is that you think you want it, him. in a way you didn’t think to think of before.

“you sure you’re not dating him?”

miko’s words ring repeatedly in your head. somehow, your answer’s changed from nope to you sort of wish you did. you bite your lower lip, absentmindedly laughing along even if you didn’t hear the joke at all.

“you okay?” the voice in your ear nearly makes you jump up from your seat.

on your right, ness is grinning as he looks at you, like he knows something’s going on in that little head of yours. you shake your head anyway, but ness shoots you a knowing smile as his eyes briefly shift to kaiser’s arm around you before winking at you.

fuck, is that really enough to make the heat rush to your cheeks?

“y/n?” one of your other friends calls out, snapping you back to the foreground.

“what?”

“next stop: new club downtown! orange, or grape, or whatever the fuck name it is,” he drawls, excited, “you up for it?”

before you even get the chance to agree, one of the other guys speaks up. “hey kaiser, speaking of clubs, didn’t that dating rumour come up recently? the one with, uh, kaia?”

readjusting himself, kaiser pulls away from you, taking a swig of his beer. “don’t remind me,” he groans, sighing.

“why not? she’s hot!”

there’s a knot in your stomach that you can’t explain.

beside you, ness snickers. “tell ‘em what really happened, stupid.”

that manages to pique your interest.

kaiser sighs, resigning because he knows they’ll just keep hounding him if he refuses. “she tried her luck, that’s all,” he settles for something vague, trying to escape.

ness, however, ever the kind soul, expands on his words, making sure you hear every single bit—you’re not sure if he’s trying to egg you on or just see your reaction.

“please, she was trying to get you to send her home, no?” ness’ explanation gets a reaction out of the group, and you’re glad you all have a private room here so no one outside can hear you, servers included.

“shut up.”

“kaia and kaiser—has a nice ring to it.”

and even though kaiser doesn’t entertain that, you feel a little envy brewing inside you—one that you fail to drown out.

orange is filled with people; combining the fact that it’s holiday season and it’s the club’s launch night, it’s safe to say that there’s barely any room to breathe. still, your friends are all drunk on the alcohol, pulling one another to the dance floor, leaving you and kaiser at the table.

he’s still close as ever, his bare hands brushing yours, one of his arms around your waist, keeping you close.

“dance with me,” he raises his voice over the music. the way he smiles so genuinely now managing to make your heart skip a beat.

suppressing your grin, you wordlessly agree, letting him lead you onto the dance floor. he meanders the crowd skilfully, as expected considering he and ness are frequent clubbers. it’s only now that you realise you’d never gone to such a place with him, which is surprising considering your many years of friendship.

as you join your friends on the floor, you can’t help but notice how kaiser sticks to you and you alone, his hands on your waist, trickling up and down your arm, dancing along behind you. even surrounded by people, he commands your attention alone.

unfair.

but to kaiser, it’s unfair too. it’s not fair how you’re so pretty, it’s not fair how you’ve always been. it’s not fair that he’d fallen slowly for you, and now so so deep. how is it fair that even when he tries to forget you, when he tries not to mess with the friendship, that he ends up falling even more?

his eyes stay glued on you, shamelessly making sure no other man gets their hands on you—it’s fucking insulting how they try to get you to dance with them even when he’s right there. lucky for him, you’re not budging. you’re there. with him. only him. even if your other friends are here.

it’s just him and you and he wonders what you’re thinking. are you as flustered as he is right now? kaiser hasn’t even let himself drink more than one mug of beer, all because he knows this is a night he’d rather remember than risk forgetting.

“hey, isn’t that kaia?” one of your friends excitedly points out and kaiser follows his line of sight.

it is her, and she’s heading this way—but that’s not really important because what’s important is how kaiser noticed you’ve stopped dancing, awkwardly trying to shuffle away. it’s kind of funny, he swears he can tell that you might feel the same way about him. maybe you’re just more stubborn than he is.

so he keeps his arms around you, pulling you close.

“stay with me,” he whispers into your ear, and he suppressed a grin from the goosebumps searing across your neck. he guesses it’s a good sign you’re listening to him.

“kaiser, what’s up?” kaia greets, evidently trying to move for a hug but kaiser’s not budging, squeezing you closer instead.

he nods at her in acknowledgement before letting the rest of his friends throng around her for a photo.

once she’s sufficiently busy, he hears you speak up. “were you dancing with her that time too?”

kaiser manages not to snicker at your obviously jealous tone, “yeah, we went with a few other people after our shoot was wrapped up.”

you nod, and all kaiser can think of somehow is that your shampoo smells so nice. “oh, sure you don’t wanna dance with her again tonight then?”

are you testing him? it’s cute.

he shakes his head. “nah, i danced with her a lot that time already,” he teases, though he’s not too sure whether you’d take it like a joke like it was meant to. when you don’t respond, he chuckles, gently turning you to face him. “there’s one thing i didn’t do with her though.”

kaiser’s face is just inches away from yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek and he’s aware that everyone in the close vicinity is looking at the two of you but he doesn’t care.

honestly, he has to admit, he’s dreamed of doing this a thousand times over, always hovering between the decision to ruin this friendship or not. the thoughts were there whenever he’d wake up next to you on the couch. or whenever all of you met up and one of the other guys would throw their arms around you. or in the mornings when you made breakfast. there’s not a time he’s been sure whether this is what you wanted too.

hell, he’s not even sure now. but fuck, if he wastes another minute not trying he thinks he’ll kill himself for it. and he’s hoping to god this isn’t a dream because you’re not pulling away and you’re not treating this like a joke and it can only be because you want this too.

without another thought, his lips press against yours and it’s like the loud music drowns out into the background, getting lost and fading away. suddenly it’s like you’re the only thing in front of him and fuck, you taste even better than he can ever imagine.

“fuck,” he exhales, cheeks pressed against yours. “be mine?”

still breathless from that kiss, you chuckle weakly and nod, both of you earning whoos all around the room. (you make a mental reminder to tell miko before she winds up seeing this online before you get a chance to explain.)

and just like that, kaiser’s finally gotten the girl of his dreams.

“want you, baby, just you.”

the next morning, the two of you make the headlines.

LIPS LOCKED: KAISER & RUMORED GIRLFRIEND SHOW OFF THEIR LOVE

[bogleech]

Also going to finally make a pinned post for all my stuff:

BOGLEECH - my tumblr blog is named after this website I created around 2002 and still update. Thousands of pages worth of content focusing on creature design as well as real biology. My review of the original Legend of Zelda monsters might be the most straightforward example of my articles.

Links to some of the most popular content:

POKEMON REVIEW ARCHIVE: - I rate and review each and every single Pokemon, in Pokedex order, on its merits as a creature design. I also do so as someone whose favorite animals are all parasites.

DIGIMON REVIEW ARCHIVE - same, but more chaotic.

CREEPYPASTA COOKOFF ARCHIVE - for several years I hosted a yearly writing contest before it grew too big for me to keep up with. There are over a thousand user submitted horror, fantasy, sci fi and surrealist stories here emphasizing unconventional, original ideas you seldom see from the "creepypasta" community!

The original "MORTASHEEN" Monster Archive - since the early 2000's I've created and illustrated more than 800 creatures and counting for my own monster-catching world, now set for release as a tabletop RPG setting.

AWFUL HOSPITAL: SERIOUSLY THE WORST EVER (page one): an interactive comedy-horror-sci-fi webcomic I started in 2014 about a medical facility that could maybe be better.

Some of my other internet stuff:

PATREON - constant work makes my patreon updates inconsistent, but the content backlog goes back years with a huge amount of exclusive art and writing. I try to put up new exclusive stuff whenever I can.

ETSY - I design all sorts of original enamel pins like these, plus I sell zero-maintenance terrarium plants (just leave them in a jar!), original books and other things!

COLOR THE ABYSS (available on the above etsy!) - a 30 page educational deep sea coloring book! Includes a few famous favorites like giant isopods and hagfish, but mostly focuses on less popular, often much weirder animals.

UNBELIEVABLE BUGS - also regularly restocked in the etsy store, 30 of the strangest and most surprising arthropods most people have likely never heard of, illustrated by myself and @revretch, written for even the youngest kids to understand (but will likely teach you something new at any age)

My Itch.io and Ko-fi - both sell digital versions of my books, including some creepypasta collections and my first novel, "Return of the Living," about a world of entirely ghosts suddenly dealing with the appearance of ghost-hunting monsters.

TWITCH CHANNEL - I now try to stream something at least monthly, sometimes weekly when possible, from horror games to books and art.

YOUTUBE CHANNEL - archives my twitch streams and other little things.

INSTAGRAM - look at pictures of my huge weird collection of toys and Halloween collectibles

BLUESKY - I'm going to put mainly just updates to my stuff on here.

SEE ALSO:

HUMANS-B-GONE - a science fiction animated series by my partner @revretch, about a world of kaiju-size, technologically advanced insects and arachnids to whom vertebrates like us are just pesky little "gubs." Also has a tumblr account @humansbgone

FINALLY, HERE'S MY GUIDE AND RESOURCE TO MAKING YOUR OWN INTERNET WEBSITE IN A FEW MINUTES WITH NO KNOWLEDGE OF CODING

[joannerowling]

Fantastic Copes and Where to Find Them

"The Harry Potter books were absolute shit. I binged read them all in two weeks when i was 10. I was NOT impressed. Boring stuff from beginning to end. The racism really jumped out to my 10 years old eyes if you ask me. Yes i was 11."

"Harry Potter? Mid. Yes it's good children literature, but terrible for adults. Well, i myself read them as an adult. I'm an adult who is also an expert on children's media. It's not weird."

"JKR is a really average writer. She has won awards, sure, but just because she was selling so many books, they like, had to give her something. It's like a Miss Universe contest, it's all about popularity and fitting certain expectations, it doesn't mean you're that good-looking, it just means that under certain universal standards of beauty you are deemed the most beautiful. Doesn't mean anything."

"JKR, a good writer?? Cho Chang, duh. Slave race! Goblin jews. Need i say more? trust me, i know what good writing is, i read a lot - of Weekly Entertainment articles and reddit threads."

"Is JKR a good writer?? Hell no. XYZ said that her writing was, quote, very naughty. I haven't read XYZ's books, but i have read JKR's books. It's true. She's very naughty."

"Obviously Harry Potter is not good. It's set in BRITAIN. Aside from Dickens, Austen, Shakespeare, Christie, Shelley, Orwell, Woolf, Conan Doyle, the Brontës, Tolkien, Lewis, Barrie, Caroll, Blake, Eliot, Rossetti, Dhal, Fleming, Stevenson, Golding, Rushdie, and many others, when has British people writing about their own life and culture ever been interesting?"

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

i’ve had these two asks in my other accounts inbox for AGES bc i’ve had no motivation to write, but now that i have an idea of what i wanna do, ive FINALLY decided that i wanna make another fic!!

i love this ask that my beautiful moot @beautifulmusicengineer sent me, and wanted to do something similar to the whole “her-getting-angry-and-burning-something-of-tobias’-down” that wouldn’t hurt graysons family, because i feel like she wouldn’t do that to him, but is still very petty. anyway here’s the ficcc thank u again rose for the ask and also for the anon who asked that i write a fic of grayson and lyras situationship during the game !! 💗💗

Burning Portraits - lyra x grayson

synopsis: after alisa freaks about some NASTY rumours going on with the contestants online that are starting to affect the game masters, she wants to try to set things straight quickly by temporarily moving the contestants to hawthorne house. in the one day they’re at hawthorne house, she expects them to go to a short paparazzi filled gala, just to make sure that the public dies down on their horrible speculations, before resting up and going back to hawthorne island for stage two of the game. all goes wrong when tobias and alice are being appraised left and right, and lyra seems to find a certain portrait the most frustrating thing of the whole event…

————————————————————————

“Do I make myself clear?”

The sound of Alisa’s voice nearing the end of her pre-gala lecture was the only thing that floated away Lyra’s thoughts. This wasn’t like the masquerade ball with only the contestants. This was a black-tie event filled with people who wouldn’t even spare Lyra a glance if they so happened to walk by her on the street. And Alisa had made it very clear: no arguments, excessive drinking, and general “dilly-dallying” was allowed.

This had all started because somehow, photos of the contestants on the beach the night before got leaked. Those, of course, weren’t the problem. The pictures that were the problem, however, were the photos of Gigi’s head bleeding out. They didn’t happen to capture her fall. They did, however, happen to capture the look on Graysons face when he saw Gigi bleeding out in Knox’s arms. A lot of the photos had good quality, and it wasn’t a surprise when Gossip websites and even big brand articles were coming out with speculations of the feuds that seemed to be between the contestants. There was even some speculation about arguments and physical fights between the Hawthornes and the contestants, and how they had a connection to Gigi’s injury, which, if Lyra was being completely honest, she was honestly surprised that they weren’t connected to this. Hawthornes did have a good way of involving themselves in subjects in which they shouldn’t.

Lyra hated that she had to fight herself from looking at Grayson at that thought.

Alisa gave each contestant one last look over, and when she came to herself, Lyra wondered what she thought of her. With her backless black maxi dress, styled curls, and red lipstick, she looked every part the woman that would fit in these types of places. But Alisa’s eyes were unreadable as she continued to skim over the contestants.

“Remember the few things I told you all of you,” Alisa stated, giving each remaining contestant the once-over. “Rohan, no flirting. There were also photos of you talking and very clearly flirting with Savannah leaked in the bunch that some crazy paparazzi somehow managed to take, so how do you think it’s going to look when people see you hopping from one girl to another?” Lyra had to physically fight back a snort when she saw a flash of cold rage spark into Graysons eyes at the mention of Rohan flirting with Savannah. His brothers seemed to be doing the same, and Lyra watched out of the corner of her eye as Jameson whispered a retort into Avery’s ear, and Xander, who had overheard what he said, snorted.

“Brady, you can behave yourself well. Same goes for you, Savannah. And Lyra..” Alisa trailed off as her eyes met Lyra’s. “You seem to be good at it so far, but continue to work on keeping your attitude in check.” Lyra reared back and had to hold back a million little comments that she wanted to make in that moment.

“During those… situations that you made us act out back at Hawthorne House, I followed the ways you told me to react to comments, and only replied when you told me there was an opening. I stayed silent.” Lyra gritted out. Alisa raised a brow at her, before swiping on her phone, and pulling up a photo of Lyra from the leaked paparazzi photos.

“Is it really staying silent if this is the face you choose to stay silent with?” Alisa asked. Lyra couldn’t hold the sneer back this time. Her tongue, yes, she could control, but her facial expressions? Lyra had given up on controlling those long ago. Alisa hadn’t made any breaking evidence that Lyra hadn’t known already. Xander Hawthorne accidentally let out the slightest laugh when he saw that the look on Lyra’s face exactly matched the photo, but he quickly stifled the laugh once he saw that her angry glare was directed at him.

“You only just gave the contestants media training. And any accidental glare that Lyra might let slip would be reasonable anyway. You know the types of people who go to these events, Alisa. Everyone knows that her “look” would be directed to the right person.” Grayson reasoned, fixing Alisa with a look that Lyra was all too familiar with. It did feel good to have somebody who could actually make an impact on Alisa’s decisions defending her. Alisa pressed her lips together, staring Lyra dead on before expelling a breath.

“I’ll just have to take your word for it. Oren and his team will be driving you guys to the event. Let me know if you have any further questions.” Alisa stated. She then proceeded to walk away before anybody could actually ask any questions they might have. Lyra snorted.

“Lee-Lee’s harmless, no matter how intimidating she might seem to be.” Nash Hawthorne interjected, mainly keeping his eyes on Lyra as he issued the statement. Lyra didn’t respond.

“The event is supposed to start in 15 minutes. I can drive all of you there.” Oren, the Hawthorne’s bodyguard, interjected. “The contestants take one car, the Game Masters another.” Lyra mulled on that, and cast Grayson a sideways glance, wondering if he would be considered a contestant or a Game Master at this point.

“You’re going with them.” Jameson said to Grayson, as if reading my thoughts. “You are a contestant now, Gray.” Grayson gave his sideways smirk a hard look before walking over to Lyra, Brady, Savannah, and Rohan.

He stood directly in between Savannah and Rohan.

Lyra did not even bother covering up her snort. Rohan cast Grayson a sideways glance.

“Not standing next to Lyra?” he prodded, his dancing eyes going from Lyra’s to Grayson’s. In a flash, Lyra’s smile dropped, and she and Grayson both fixed him with a wordless stare. Seeing as Rohan wasn’t going to get much of a reaction from either of them, he just cocked his head to the side with a smirk, muttering the words “mean and meaner everybody”.

Lyra rolled her eyes and surveyed the other contestants again. It felt weird to not have Odette with her and Grayson. Catching Lyra’s stare, Avery spoke up.

“You’ll be able to see the eliminated contestants one last time after the gala.” she told Lyra. Lyra knew that she was talking about Odette.

“Did you talk to Gigi before leaving?” Grayson asked Avery, his mind apparently elsewhere. She pressed her lips into a thin line.

“I knocked on her door, but there was no response.” she offered gently. Lyra saw both Savannah and Grayson’s expressions shift. “But don’t worry, she should be feeling a bit better by the end of the night.” Turning her gaze back to us, she started to walk towards Oren, Alisa, and the Game master’s car.

“In the meantime, however,” she added, waiting for Jameson Hawthorne to open the car door for her before slipping inside the limousine, “we should be going.”

The car ride was completely silent, apart from the few comments from Rohan towards Savannah, and honestly, Lyra was thankful for it. At first it was a bit awkward, but slowly it settled into a comfortable silence, one where she could gather her thoughts.

Stepping out of the car with more confidence than she had earlier, Lyra waited for Grayson to close the door behind her before walking beside him to the other contestants.

“Quite a gentleman.” she commented, her eyes finding his as she teased him for holding the car door open for her. He gave her a subtle half shrug in return, but Lyra noticed that even when her eyes glided to the Game masters, Grayson’s were still stuck on her.

“I know Alisa made this event seem the tiniest bit overwhelming, but believe me, they’re not so bad!” Xander offered helpfully. Lyra gave him a pitying look. He seemed to be trying so hard not to make the contestants nervous, and Lyra found his empathy to be awfully endearing. He eventually sighed, breaking the silence.

“Is there anything we can do to take the edge off this event?” he tried, gesturing to himself and the other Game master’s. Rohan held his hand up to voice his thought.

“Whiskey might help.” he offered. Lyra side-eyed him. Xander snorted and was about to respond, when Alisa sidled up to them.

“Be polite. Don’t talk about politics or any menacing opinions. Don’t drink too much, and if you want to voice your opinion, do so thoughtfully. Now we can go in.” she ordered, walking away. Lyra gave Grayson an exasperated look, and he responded with an eyebrow raise of his own, as if saying “this isn’t even the worst of it”.

Lyra had to admit that the place was beautifully decorated. The music was serene and lovely, and the decorations were crystal and gold, giving a lovely touch to the whole ordeal. Lyra couldn’t stop her gaze from going to the huge chandelier on the ceiling, one with glittering crystals and jewels that couldn’t stop her mind from going to the escape room. To Grayson.

Tearing her eyes away from it, Lyra pretended not to feel the warmth coming off of Grayson’s body beside her, and turned her attention to the Hawthorne currently talking and walking towards the contestants.

“Everybody,” Xander announced quite loudly, earning a look from Alisa. “meet Nan!” Nan in question was the Hawthorne brothers’ great grandmother, and, from what Lyra could tell from how she spoke, had an attitude that Lyra honestly liked. But still….

She was Alice’s mother. Pearl O’Day.

Eventually, Nan’s eyes went to Lyra, and Lyra was immediately distraught. Suddenly, she felt about 3 feet tall and 4 years old, and Lyra had to blink to bring Nan’s face to focus.

“You, girl,” she said, narrowing her eyes, “where do I know you from?” Where do I know you from? She might have seen Lyra’s face on some magazine somewhere, but something deep in her gut told Lyra that that wasn’t what the old woman meant. Don’t trust your gut, Lyra begged herself. Whenever she did, it always landed her in trouble. But just when Lyra was going to smile at the woman, the look in her eyes that was neutral before, and awfully pleased as she watched her grandson, subsided. Looking at Lyra, her eyes were different. Colder. Like she was calculating something in her head, and when the fogginess in her eyes cleared—the look in them was knowing.

A coldness settled over her spine, nestling deep in her bones, and Lyra couldn’t bite back the frigid tone in her voice as she spoke.

“You don’t.” she stated, the reply so unnervingly detached that Lyra was surprised it came out of her own mouth. Rohan’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Lyra watch Nan, and Lyra could tell that the other contestants were starting to watch her too. But still, Graysons eyes were the only ones she went to, and seeing where her mind was, he switched the topic.

“Nan,” he started, prying the old woman’s searching eyes away from Lyra’s and holding his arm out for her to take, “have I introduced you to the event organizers of this whole ordeal? They’re a wonderful couple, and even better people.” Nan hesitated for only a moment, before putting her hand on his arm and harrumphing.

“I don’t believe you have, forgetful boy.” she told him, shaking her head at him. Graysons eyes caught hers as they walked away, a million questions in them, but at the same time, Nan’s eyes were still watching Lyra, calculating and cold compared to how she looked at her great grandson. Lyra swallowed.

“Thanksgiving with the in-laws won’t be so fun, huh?” Rohan pried, his eyes calculating as he watched Lyra. Lyra stared him down right back.

“You’re hilarious.” she said with a smile, before rolling her eyes once he turned his back. But she saw past his jokes. The contestants were starting to suspect Lyra’s coldness when it came to the Hawthornes, and she couldn’t have that. Her secret was hers, and if people found out—

It would take away the one piece of security she had left.

But then again… Lyra’s mind trailed off. Grayson knows. So does Odette. So just how secure are you then?

A fork hitting a glass pried Lyra away from her thoughts, and she watched as a woman with diamonds the size of Lyra’s thumb that graced her ears stood at the top of the curving staircase. She made an announcement, thanking the contestants and game masters of the second annual Grandest Game for coming and everybody else too, before announcing that soon there would be an auction.

But Lyra wasn’t listening.

She was watching Grayson from across the room speak to the woman currently announcing anything and everything’s husband, with Nan by his side. His eyes met hers, and for once, Lyra didn’t look away. She tried to read the message in his eyes, but he looked away, his hand tightening on Nan’s arm. My father and getting him justice may be dear to me, but his family is dear to him as well, Lyra thought. For once, all she wanted was her feelings to not be confusing. She hated that the hurt in her heart lingered more nowadays, and hated even more that she believed in the depths of her soul that Grayson’s hands could carry some of that hurt for her. If she’d only let him.

Unfortunately, giving permission for something as trivial as that, to a person with a last name as his, wasn’t as simple as one would think.

“Let the auction begin!” The woman finally finished, raising her glass and getting cheers from the crowd. A tap on her shoulder made Lyra turn around.

“C’mon kid, your seat is over there.” Nash Hawthorne told her, his eyes searching hers with a calmness that seemingly was Nash Hawthorne. But there was something underneath that, something that told Lyra that he had noticed the entire situation that went on between her and Nan— and was curious as to why it happened. Too bad curiosity killed the cat, Lyra thought, not willing to give the Hawthorne more than he already knew.

“Thank you.” she told him, with a polite—and absolutely fake—smile. Nash held her gaze for only a few seconds more, his eyes searching, before his expression shifted and he gave her a small nod. Nash turned around on his heels and started walking, and Lyra followed him, her pace quickening to match the cowboys long strides.

With her luck, Lyra’s seat was right in between Jameson and Xander Hawthorne’s. They were already sitting down, and, once he saw her approach, Xander’s eyes lit up. She sat down in her chair, and he immediately turned to face her.

“Pst, Lyra.” Xander stage-whispered, something lingering under the enthusiastic look in his eyes. Lyra turned to face him and dipped her head as his signal to keep talking. He took the opportunity immediately. “I remembered you saying you liked chocolate at the ball, so I snagged you some from the dessert table!” Lyra’s eyebrows shot up. Xander took a napkin out of his suit pocket and unwrapped it, revealing 4 squares of chocolate. Milk chocolate. Lyra quirked a brow at him.

“I’m more of a dark chocolate person.” she told him. He immediately groaned.

“Your taste in desserts are heinous and you deserve to be sent to jail.” he stated dramatically, taking a square of chocolate and popping it into his mouth. Lyra snorted at his reaction, and was about to reply when a man walked up onto the stage.

“I hope you are all ready, because the auction is about to commence. Stay seated and raise the paddle located under your seat to place a bid. Our first item of the night is a state of the art violin, crafted by….” The man’s words were repetitive and boring as he continued to drone on, revealing different objects and emotionlessly watching people bid ridiculous amounts of money on them. Lyra’s facial expressions were downright heinous when a measly metal watch went for over $35,000. Beside her, Jameson Hawthorne smiled.

“Auctions truly are something to behold,” Jameson told her. “A fool and his money during one are soon parted.” Lyra resisted the urge to roll her eyes. God save her from proverbs talking and over dramatic Hawthornes.

The auction seemed to be going smoothly, and all was well, till the lights dimmed suddenly and a spotlight was overcast onto the next item. It seemed to be a portrait, but there was a cloth of some sort thrown over it. Lyra furrowed her brows, and was just going to ask Xander what that was about when a waiter walked by and, without asking her, handed her a cup of champagne. When Lyra looked around, she realized that everybody was now holding a glass. She craned her head to look at Grayson seated behind Xander, but he didn’t seem to know what was happening either.

“Our next item is by far the most important of the night, and I would like to say the most special, as it was painted for two very special people.” Again confused, Lyra turned around again to meet Graysons eyes. He raised a brow at her, and his lips lifted by the slightest bit. Lyra huffed a breath at him. He looked like his expression was going to shift, but then he looked up.

His slight smile dropped.

Hearing a few ooh’s and ah’s from the people around her, Lyra turned around, and then immediately froze.

“Here is a portrait of Tobias and Alice Hawthorne, painted in the lovely couples honour.” The man stated, his voice proud. Lyra’s breath hitched. Tobias and Alice Hawthorne. Lovely couple. Honour. What honour did those two have? And why did seeming them, up on a mantle like that, make her want to crumble into a million pieces so badly? Everybody stood up, and Lyra sucked in a sharp breath before standing too.

“Before we bid this piece off, I would like to give a toast to the unfortunately deceased couple.” He raised his glass, and, one by one, everybody’s glasses raised. Except for Lyra’s. Jameson’s intruding eyes were watching her, and she could tell that everybody else was too. She could especially tell that Grayson’s were too. Raise your glass, she told herself. Yet still, she stood there. Frozen.

“Tobias and Alice Hawthorne were, without a doubt, the most generous and caring people this world could find.” The auctioneer stated, compassion in his tone. Lyra’s legs started to feel wobbly. “No matter what, they have been there for the big and the small, the rich and the poor, in every way possible. Whether that is fundraising, charities, or any other act of kindness that the two have shown this world, their undying support and kindness has always been evident.” Yes, Lyra thought, a numbing anxiety coursing through her veins, their support.

“So I dedicate this piece to the two, and hope that everybody can feel the love that I do just from looking at them. To Tobias and Alice Hawthorne,” he said. “The absolute best of us.” Those last few words rung in Lyra’s mind, sticking onto her like damp clothing sticks to your body. Everybody in the room started repeating those words. Everybody but Lyra, of course. She couldn’t stop staring at the two, staring and wondering if nobody in here knew just how horrible they could be when their kindness ran out.

And, once she could call to name the familiarity of Tobias Hawthornes eyes, she could no longer stand it.

“I have to use the washroom.” she breathed mid-toast, her glass the only one lowered and her breathing sped up as she rushed past Xander to the hall. Passing Grayson, she met his eyes and her heart squeezed from the familiarity. Tobias Hawthornes eyes. Grayson’s. One and the same. She squeezed her eyes shut and looked away, not allowing herself to turn back to see his face no matter how much she wanted to as she burst through the gala doors and out into the hall.

Her breathing only quickened once she reached the hall. How, just how could they be praised like that? How could they be considered kind and generous, and how could a whole room of people agree?

Because they didn’t have to find out how cruel a man and woman like Tobias and Alice Hawthorne can be, Lyra answered herself. It was so simple. They were rich, so they didn’t know how Tobias and Alice really treated the poor. Lyra felt sick. And then, once she reached the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and saw her father staring back at her? She felt angry.

She wasn’t going to cry in the bathroom the rest of the night. And even when her brain was yelling at her not to do anything rash, Lyra ignored it anyway, walking gracefully back towards the gala doors. She ripped them open and walked inside, going to her seat and trying her best not to meet Grayson’s eyes as she did. He’s really not going to like what she’s planning to do.

“Everything okay?” Came a southern voice from behind her. Lyra turned around to see Nash staring at her, his eyes not kind, but piercing as he looked at her. She realized then that Brady, Rohan, and Savannah were doing the same. But Grayson’s eyes? They were the only ones who Lyra had to fight back the urge to look to. He was the only one who she had to fight back the urge to look to. She smiled at Nash, and she could tell that Grayson knew it was fake.

“Everything’s fine.” she told Nash Hawthorne, turning around before he could poke around her brain anymore.

The rest of the night was fine. There were no more mentions of Tobias and Alice Hawthorne, except for a few compassionate murmurs here and there from people who just found their portrait oh so lovely, and Lyra could tell that Alisa was going to get them to leave very soon. The auction had ended a while ago, and the rest of the gala was reserved to talking and a bit of dancing, with waiters carrying handheld food and drinks everywhere. But still, Lyra couldn’t pry her eyes away from the portrait. That was, until, she felt a tap on her shoulder. When she turned around, she saw that it was Grayson.

“Care to dance?” he asked her, holding out a hand. Those three words brought her back to the masquerade ball, and Lyra barely nodded before Grayson pulled her away to the other 10 or so dancers, taking her hand to do so. Lyra felt the heat from his hands spread to her neck, and she reminded herself that they were just holding hands.

But later, her mind would force herself to reminiscence on the feel of his hand gripping hers.

“The portrait,” he said, once they were dancing softly, much more different from how they danced at the masquerade ball.

“The portrait.” she confirmed. He set his lips in a straight line. There was silence between them, until Grayson spun her closer. Lyra was distraught for a moment, until she realized that this dance was meant to be slower.

That, like all the other dancers, Lyra’s head was supposed to be barely touching from his chest. She turned her head in chorus with the other dancers, and Grayson brought her body closer to his chest, before the dance continued. Lyra sucked in a sharp breath.

“I’m sorry about your great grandmother.” she finally said. He raised a brow.

“Sorry about the way you talked to her?” he asked. Lyra set her jaw. He wasn’t going to get more from her than that. He smiled then, this one less discreet and small as all his others.

“Well, as simple as that apology may have been, I do acknowledge it.” he stated. Lyra rolled her eyes.

“Thank you for doing me that dire favour. How can I repay you for your acknowledgement.” she deadpanned. His eyes lingered on hers, and Lyra wondered for a moment if he said things like that on purpose, just to get a reaction from her. Behind him, she could see the portrait. Again.

Grayson knew what she was thinking of once her facial expression’s hardened.

“They don’t know the real him,” he started. Lyra was surprised. She’d never heard those kind of words come out of Grayson’s mouth. Not about his grandfather. “They don’t know that he’s not as generous and caring as they think he is. And they definitely don’t know Alice.” Lyra paused. Here he was, admitting his grandfather, the one who he looked up to all his life, was a complete fraud. And yet, Lyra couldn’t agree with him, because she couldn’t further hurt him.

“You didn’t exactly know your grandmother, either.” Lyra said, moving away from the topic of Tobias Hawthorne. Grayson’s eyes hardened.

“No. I don’t.” Grayson’s eyes were distant. Then, he spoke.

“Maybe she had just as hard of a life as the old man did.” Grayson said, his eyes soft as the dance slowed to a crawl. Lyra looked back at the painting, and made a face. If her father’s death had told her anything, it’s not to feel sympathy for Alice Hawthorne.

“Maybe she was an ass.” Lyra bluntly stated. He gave her a look.

“I am still here, you know.” he told her. She shrugged at him, and pulled him off the dance floor. Still, his eyes went back to the picture. “And looking at it gives me an…. odd feeling. I know he was the only parental figure I had, but I don’t think I want to look up to a man like him anymore.” Lyra looked to him with soft eyes. Softer than they were before, that’s for sure.

“Well, who knows. Maybe you won’t even have to see the thing anymore.” she said with a haughty look at the portrait. And with those words, she knew what that portrait needed.

One last finishing touch.

Finally, the gala had been emptied, and everybody had left. Even the event organizers had went outside to catch up with some friends.

But the contestants? They were all in a separate room, still in the building that the gala had taken place in. We were all getting talked to by Alisa, Lyra especially, about our behaviours at the gala. And, once she couldn’t take it anymore, Lyra got up, asked to use the restroom, and left.

Now that she was gone, she could go back to the gala.

To the portrait.

Slipping inside, Lyra made a mental note of where each and every single one of the cameras were. There were only 4 in the entire room, and, luckily enough, none of them were where the portrait was. That meant that as long as she was out of the cameras sight, nobody would see her. Still, Lyra had to remind herself that she had to be smart about this, and even though she felt angry and like she wanted to destroy something, she couldn’t let her emotions take ahold of her like they always do.

From her safe spot, she eyed the portrait still hanging on the stage. They must be waiting to mail it to the person with the highest bid, Lyra realized, her jaw taut. Then she eyed the small closet in the back of the room, close to where she was.

Walking carefully so that no cameras saw her, Lyra opened the door to the closet and stepped inside. She looked through every shelf, seeing only cleaning solutions, and was about to step out when she saw a bottle of something.

Something flammable.

Lyra looked at the bottle of acetone with a deep anger lingering in her. Then, she spotted a jacket. Shoving her hands through the pockets, she pulled out a box of cigarettes from one…

And a lighter from the other.

Lyra’s mind began to race as she grabbed both the acetone and the lighter, shoving the door open and, in quick yet careful movements, made her way to the stage.

There weren’t any cameras pointed to the stage.

Walking up the stairs, it was impossible for Lyra to tear her eyes away from the portrait. For years they had occupied her nightmares, watching Lyra watch her father kill himself over and over and over again. And apparently, her father’s life was never of value to anybody, because despite it, Alice and Tobias Hawthorne are still here.

Still here getting praised for their kind efforts that were all a lie.

Ripping open the bottle of acetone, she threw the liquid onto the painting, her anger building up as her movements became more and more aggressive. Then, she ripped open the cap of the lighter. She was about to flick the flame on and bring it towards the painting, when something stopped her.

When those icy blue eyes in her memory stopped her.

It became harder and harder to believe that she hated a man like Grayson when he was good, far too good to be a Hawthorne. Just burn the damn portrait down, Lyra told herself. But a part of her felt that to burn it down was to betray him.

And Lyra knew that every part of herself rebelled at even the thought of that.

His eyes. Lyra remembered how they looked when she ran out of the gala a mere hour earlier. They were cold, and, even though she could hardly tell from his icy exterior, grieving. She couldn’t continue to fight the line between doing what her father probably would have wanted her to do, and what she wanted to do. Grayson’s eyes were a telltale sign of that struggle.

And then, suddenly, those eyes weren’t only in his memory.

Grayson Hawthorne was standing in front of her, his eyes unreadable as he clutched his hand around one of Lyra’s, the one that was holding the lighter. She hadn’t even heard him approach.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, his jaw tight. The fight in Lyra was struggling to not go out when his eyes suddenly softened.

“You know.” Lyra told him, her voice just as intense, when in reality, her heart couldn’t keep up with this hurt. She dropped the lighter suddenly, and when the numb feeling in her chest gave way to grief, she couldn’t stop a lone tear from trailing down her cheek. The lines of his face that were previously so taut, suddenly softened. His facial expression fell, and, holding the back of Lyra’s head, he brought her close to his body in a loose hug. Lyra couldn’t stop the tears from falling then.

She wouldn’t say a word, an apology, anything, but she allowed herself the privilege of listening to the beating of Grayson’s heart. After a minute or two had passed, Lyra finally turned her head up to look at Grayson. His head was turned down too, and his eyes, unlike hers now so full of grief, were determined. He swallowed, before kneeling and picking up the lighter she had dropped, pressing it into her hands. She looked at him, and at the hands clutching hers in an attempt to push the lighter into them, and her heart squeezed.

“I can’t.” she whispered. Not in front of you, her mind whispered, the words left unsaid. Not when it’s the man who raised you. Still, the look in Grayson’s eyes told her he heard it all. What she said, and what she didn’t. He let his head hang till their foreheads were touching, the movement so achingly familiar to what he had done in the escape rooms.

“You have to.” he softly replied. She too heard what he didn’t say. She had to so she could reclaim the part of her that Tobias and Alice Hawthorne had taken away. Finally clutching the lighter in her hands, Lyra opened the cap, the spark that had went out inside her only a few moments earlier reigniting. With the flame of the lighter flickering to light, Lyra brought it to the portrait with a deep sense of determination and watched as the painting immediately burst into flames. As soon as the flame touched the painting, Grayson pulled Lyra behind her, and Lyra watched from behind his arm clutched around her body as the two melted away.

Suddenly, breathing didn’t seem so difficult.

Lyra watched with an oddly calm feeling as the portrait melted away, and although she knew in her heart that this would never take away the pain of her fathers death, it healed the part of her that was previously so scared of the couple.

Now, they were nothing but a phantom in Lyra’s mind.

Lyra was going to continue to watch the flames flicker to a stop with Grayson, when suddenly the doors of the gala opened.

Lyra heard talking, one of the voices being the same one as the woman that had led the speech in the beginning of the gala, and met Grayson’s distraught eyes with ones of her own.

Grayson beckoned her to walk towards the back stage silently, and the two of them slipped away behind the curtains.

“Where do we go?” Lyra asked Grayson in a whisper. Suddenly, she heard screaming and shouting. Lyra met Grayson’s eyes again. Clearly, they found the portrait.

Or, what was left of it, anyway.

Grayson quickly took Lyra’s hand. “Follow me,” he told her. Lyra’s breathing quickened the second their hands made contact, and she had to remind herself that they needed to go.

He pulled her away to stand behind the curtains. Lyra watched him plan out their next movements, and immediately knew what he was thinking. The only exit they could take was the back door…. which meant that Lyra and Grayson had to somehow find a way to go behind the group of aggravated people and sneak out. She met his eyes.

“You better not stomp.” she whispered to him. Lyra could tell that he was going to pull her away, when she did it for him, seeing the group walk closer to the stage and taking Grayson’s hand herself, darting behind them as quickly and quietly as possible to get to the door.

Once the two made it outside, outside the gala, outside the building, outside of Alisa’s endless lectures, Lyra looked at her partner in crime with a curious expression on her face. He returned it with a look of his own.

“What?” he asked her.

“Why’d you do it?” she inquired. He was his grandfather. The sole parental figure in his life.

And yet he watched as a portrait of that same man and his wife burnt to a crisp beside Lyra.

He gave a slight half shrug, but his eyes were distant. “You had to.” I had to. The words rang true. But did he have to watch?

“But..” she trailed off. “you were never meant to see that. He raised you, Grayson. I was angry. And a part of me will never stop being angry.” She took a step closer to him, her opening up to him being strange and out of the ordinary. But it was Grayson. How many times had he opened up to her for her benefit? “But if I knew you would follow me, I never would’ve gotten the acetone. I never would’ve gotten the lighter. Not because I’m a coward, but because I know you.” Those words bring his eyes to mine, a flash of surprise sparking them, and the sudden softness overtook Lyra.

There was something about the look of the yellow street lamp shining over his eyes combined with the moonlight that made Lyra unable to draw her own away from them. They were…. beautiful. And she could deny it all she wanted, but she knew that he was too. Still, she swallowed and kept speaking.

“I know that family means so much to you.” she stopped speaking to swallow again. “I was hurting. But I wouldn’t hurt you.” Those words were a mere whisper, her head ducked away with something like embarrassment, or shock at her sudden admittance. She wasn’t at all meant to be this kind of person, the one who opens up without a second thought. But what about Grayson’s presence made her forget about that?

Once she brought her head up to look at him, Grayson just stared at her. He stared at her with disbelief, as well as softness. It was something akin to adoration, as he flicked his gaze over her face, but once his eyes met hers again, the look mellowed. He squeezed his eyes shut, resting his head on the street lamp beside him.

“You know me.” he repeated, his voice hoarse like he’d churned the words over again and again in his head and couldn’t pry his mind off of them.

“Don’t I?” Lyra replied softly, not wanting to ruin the moment, but letting her brow raise at him nonetheless. He looked at her like how he did back at the Grandest Game Escape Room, his gaze like a physical thing as it burned onto her skin. More specifically, her eyes, her body, her.

And then, settling on her lips.

He’s just about to say something else when somebody bursts through the door.

“Gray, Lyra, where were you guys?” Nash Hawthorne is in the door way, and once he sees us standing together, far closer than Lyra had realized, he smiled lazily. “Am I interrupting something?” Frustration pulled in Lyra’s chest.

“No.” Her and Grayson spoke at once, stubbornly. Nash’s cowboy smile only widened. But there was something beneath that, the look similar to the way he’d looked at her back at the gala.

“Well alrighty then.” He turned around, and, just as Lyra and Grayson were about to follow him, he spoke again, this time more quietly.

“The portrait ain’t to your guys’ liking?” Lyra froze. Stopped moving, stopped walking, stopped breathing. Grayson did too, but only for a moment before he regained his composure.

“What do you mean?” Grayson asked his brother sharply, the question distantly threatening. Nash stopped walking to turn around and look at the two.

“I know you burned that portrait, Gray. Lee-Lee’s trying to get ahold of the security footage right now, as everybody could hear those people’s screams. I’m assuming that you’re not dumb enough to get caught on the cameras, just as much as I know that this wasn’t for you.” Nash spoke, letting his gaze slip to Lyra as soon as he said you. Lyra held his gaze, her stubbornness unwavering. She wasn’t going to say a word. Nash took a step closer to her. “You know what you’re doin’, Lyra?” He wasn’t going to intimidate her. Not when he had no clue what those beloved grandparents of his did to her father.

“Of course.” she said, her eyes hard. Grayson looked between them with a look on his face that Lyra couldn’t quite place. Then, he looked towards his brother.

“Sinite eam.” Grayson told him, his tone serious. Lyra looked towards him with a question on her face. She didn’t speak Latin. Still, Nash just stared Grayson down, before giving a hard nod. Then he turned on his heels, opened the door, and held it open for Lyra and Grayson. Lyra went in first, but couldn’t shake the look that Nash was giving her as she did.

As Grayson and her were walking back towards the room where they had previously been, the one that Alisa had been lecturing them in, she glanced at Grayson. His eyes were distant. That was, until, he looked at her. They cleared suddenly, focusing on her face. Lyra knew that Nash was behind her, and so she barely spoke under her breath.

“How screwed do you think we are?” she muttered to Grayson. Grayson pondered on the question for only a moment.

“Well, I want to say that it all depends on what lies within that tape, but you and I both know she’s going to find a way to blame us whether we’re seen on it or not.” he replied. Lyra sighed, before she was walking towards the door of the room they had been in a mere 20 minutes ago. A room where the other contestants are now. Lyra was about to reach for the handle, when Nash, suddenly by her side, beat her to it.

“Allow me,” Nash said, with a tight-lipped smile. Lyra’s eyes lingered on his for a moment before she huffed, ready to step in. But Nash wasn’t opening the door. There was a beat of silence, where nobody spoke or moved, before Nash spoke.

“Was it worth it?” he said. Lyra rolled her eyes, wanting to hear the end of his lecture, when she noticed that Nash’s eyes were only on her when he turned around. Not her and Grayson. Only her.

And his words weren’t accusing either. They were gentle. Lyra thought about it. Was it worth it? She looked to Grayson, and saw a truth lying behind his eyes. Today, she saw that Grayson burned to dust the idea that his grandfather and grandmother were saints, and differentiated the idea he had of them in his head to how they truly were.

But today was just as important for Lyra.

Burning that portrait showed her that Tobias and Alice Hawthorne weren’t so untouchable, that she didn’t have to feel like she couldn’t be defiant to any idea of empathy towards them.

And, when she searched her mind for that cool fear that always came when she thought about Alice, about Tobias, about the escape room and all she’d learnt, she couldn’t find it.

She was the daughter of a man who had been forced to death by Alice Hawthorne. Alice Hawthorne ran through Grayson’s veins. They shared the same blood. But she didn’t have to be afraid of that anymore.

Burning that portrait took away her fear and replaced it with something so much more dire. It replaced it with the drive to live a life by her own terms, not one laid out for her by the past.

“Yes,” Lyra finally said, her voice softer than it’d been in a while.

“It was.”

————————————————————————

idek what that ending was i just needed an ending cuz wtf this was so long. anyways im sorry that i had to submit u guys to this trash and i hate it but i was literally getting held at gun point by moots (cough cough @7975348473 cough cough) to post this sooo 😍😍

[jokeroutsubs]

[📝ENG translation] 'My Parents Gave Me a Strong Sense of Identity'

An interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin.

Original article written by Teja Roglič for Ona plus, published 05.11.2024. English translation by @kurooscoffee, review by @weolucbasu, proofread by IG Gboleyn123.

Full article and Spotify link under the cut 👇

🎧 Article available in audio form on Spotify.

Last year’s craze at Stožice, summer festival performances, the Eurovision Song Contest, international success. And then everyone asks, what could be bigger, what could be better? But as the band Joker Out releases their new album, they consciously follow the motto "I want less". Singer Bojan Cvjetićanin explains why: "This is our home, this is our base. If we don’t feel good at home, we can’t feel good anywhere. We need to rediscover love in our base, that’s what we told ourselves."

With the song Bluza, you’re returning to love. Why?

We went through a lot. The songs we released after Eurovision dealt with the most acute situational changes in our lives—touring, exhaustion, questioning ourselves. Now, it’s time to have a bit of fun again. And there's probably nothing more beautiful than being in love. (smiles)

I’ve been looking into people’s stories, into the lives of those around me, seeking beauty.

What did you discover?

That I enjoy writing about love the most. When you write from a place of uncertainty, it’s nice to get those feelings out; when you write about love, you search for timeless beats within yourself, not something that’s only fleeting. I write about the ideals of love I held as a child, and in the future, I’ll see how these have either evolved or fallen apart.

It's best to write about love...

When you have a broken heart.

Your Eurovision song was more socially critical, though it might seem, at first glance, to be about joy. In it, you say: "We won’t take part in your games or your divisions." Did the song’s message reach people?

Undoubtedly. A lot has changed in a year and a half, not only personally but also in terms of our views of social issues. For the first time, we've connected with young people from abroad. It was fascinating to see how connected the fans from different countries became, encouraging each other, learning new languages—even a lot of Slovene. The desire for peace and unity is very strong at our concerts, so our messages have touched them. But of course, you can never reach everyone. (smiles)

You mention changed perspectives with regards to society. Have any ideals been shattered?

Many ideals have crumbled. In school, learning about war, it always seemed odd to me that the world could just go on at the same time, despite the ongoing disruption in the system. Now, I see that we have access to all the information, that we see and hear what’s happening, that we witness an influx of people coming from regions where this is happening, yet everything literally carries on as usual.

War has become more of a trend on TikTok or Instagram than something people feel hurt about. This makes me very sad.

A lot of ideals that have shattered relate to the life of a musician. We’ve achieved things we could only have dreamed of—not just as kids; even two years ago, what’s happening now would have seemed impossible to me. But the ideal that’s crumbled is this one: I don’t always know how to appreciate what I have.

On tour, I often slipped into negative thoughts, didn’t appreciate everything happening to us. This links to the idea that this kind of life is easy, that as a successful musician, you only have fun. This, of course, isn’t true; it’s incredibly exhausting, both mentally and physically. I could go on until tomorrow, listing everything that’s fallen apart, but fortunately, a lot of new things have also come to be.

You’re the idols of generations; do you feel pressure because of that? After all, you’re still young guys too…

No. We already lost the childlike joy of music because we had to start working so much so early and get to know so many new systems. If we also take on the responsibility of raising generations of kids, we could truly fall into a black hole.

We need to be role models, but we can’t shape our work around that. On the upcoming album, there’s a song, 'Muzika za decu' ('Music for children'), which touches on this very point. We want to convey that we’re not addressing generations who think all younger people are lazy bums who only hinder the world’s progress. We’re addressing everyone who is young enough at heart to believe in a better world, a brighter tomorrow.

Photo: Vita Orehek

More and more musicians are stopping concerts at large venues when fans are in distress or overcrowding happens. You too?

Absolutely. This summer, we constantly stopped concerts if people were packed tightly indoors or out in the sun. We handed out a lot of water from the stage, and I even paused a concert if some listener (m.) was treating another listener (f.) disrespectfully. A concert is a safe space; there’s no place there for infringing on the rights of others.

That’s an interesting topic I wanted to touch on anyway. So what is the rock ‘n’ roll world of the new generation like?

It’s a lot better. I’m glad we’re not a group of drugged-out dudes living only for today. Carpe Diem really means seize the day, but for us, that doesn’t mean picking every fruit that exists in the world. Waking up healthy and energised, wanting to go to a concert, being open to meeting new people, our fans, being creative...

That’s what it means to seize the day. Sure, sometimes we go on a trip, we do have fun too. But I’m glad that sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll aren’t our guiding principles in the band. When we watched the documentary about Mötley Crüe, we saw how they started with heroin and opiates and ended with smoothies and fruit. Well, we’re already at the fruit and smoothies stage. (laughs)

“We’re constantly building a relationship that gets deeper every day, even though it seems like it can’t get any deeper,” you told me before the Stožice concert, as I was stunned when you said you were going on holiday with the guys right after the concert. How much do you invest in relationships within the band? We know it’s sometimes challenging to nurture a relationship between two people, let alone five.

This is like a partnership with five people. Except for intimacy, all the other elements of partnership are there. We’re companions. We often live together, work together; the dynamics are demanding. I talk a lot about this with fellow musicians. Recently, I was talking to Mr. Vlado Kreslin, and we concluded that being in a band requires a touch of madness.

Even if it ends someday—nothing is guaranteed—I know I have four lifelong friends. We exist as friends even beyond the band.

Success demands hard work; you’ve told me before how sure you were of your path in the band, of your decisions, and how hard you worked to achieve what you have. And we’re back to the topic that some might say your generation isn’t hardworking, that you’re quick to say what you won’t do at the work place...

The young people I know could hardly be described as not hardworking. I’d rather say we’re diligent, and the drive to work comes from the strong pressure that you need to achieve a lot very quickly, or else you won’t make it in this world. As for them being quicker to say no... Maybe they know they can’t live that way if something doesn’t work. And to live is very costly.

Young people feel they don’t have to stick rigidly to one profession, that they can change courses, jobs, and find something that suits them. We’re far from the days when the son was a blacksmith because the father was a blacksmith, and the daughter stayed home as a housewife. But we also have to know that there’s more and more uncertainty, precarious work.

If Gen Z is the way it is, I wouldn’t attribute that to the generation itself but rather to the Boomer generation. Everything that makes life harder for us isn’t the product of our ideas and actions. But it’s also true that sometimes, you need to stop, think, and make a decision. I’d like to do something today, something different tomorrow, but that’s not realistic. When you’re bombarded by choices from all ends, you have to make decisions. If there are three shirts in a store, I’ll pick one; if there are 250, I might end up buying sneakers instead. (laughs)

You performed at a concert aimed at contributing to the best possible care, treatment, and support for women with gynaecological cancer. You probably get invited to participate in quite a few charitable events; how do you choose them? This concert likely wasn’t a hard choice, as both of your parents are doctors...

My father is a gynaecologist, my mother is a pediatrician, so naturally, when I got the invitation, I immediately thought my dad would be happy if I could perform there. Otherwise, I choose events based on two criteria: whether it’s something important and whether I’m home at that time. I've often had to turn down an event I would have really liked to participate in simply because I wasn’t here.

Life has taken you all over in recent years. What have your parents given you that has stayed with you and has been proven most useful today?

They gave me a sense of normality. I'm an ordinary person who takes everything in moderation. I didn’t become a hedonist, nor did I give in to the patterns that the environment might impose. They gave me a strong sense of who I am and what I am, unconditional self-confidence, and self-respect. And the certainty that I’m never alone in anything.

Recently, the dramaturg Nina Kuclar Stiković and I talked about how Generation Z might be the first to actively work through its traumas, though she noted that taking on such responsibility across generations is a huge task. In the end, you might even feel worse. If you only become aware of your baggage but can’t overcome it, it can feel even worse than if you had never been made aware of it at all, she said. What do you observe around you, in your own generation?

Mental health has never been as openly discussed as it is today. I know many people who go to therapy. It’s actually strange that mental health was never treated before, that this stigma existed. If you have a cold, you stay home, you also heal a broken arm. Today's generations have managed to break free from these shackles. The individual is becoming increasingly more important.

People are working through the things in their minds. And this bothers many people from generations who suppressed everything and unleashed their traumas onto others. I often think how unfortunate it is that we don’t practice everyday therapy in our surroundings. Everyone surely has someone whom they trust. We talk about all sorts of things, but we never ask each other how we are and share that honestly. Now, I do this with a few friends, and it’s really nice. I go to my friends for therapy. (smiles)

Nina also mentioned that patriarchy has wronged not only women but men too. It’s unfair that men couldn’t show emotions and always had to be strong. It always helps if you can share your feelings with someone. What do you think?

The Neanderthal perception of masculinity is passé. We can all first tell ourselves, and then tell others, how we feel and what’s going on in our heads.

This summer, you performed at festivals. Now you have a new album, and you’ll be performing at various venues again, with tickets quickly selling out. It's a carousel that never stops. You mentioned earlier that you caught yourself maybe not appreciating it anymore. What do you do now to keep that from happening?

For the tour that’s coming with the release of the new album, we consciously followed the motto, "I want less." Last year, we played in Stožice, before that in Križanke. This year, we toured Europe, and everyone was asking us what big thing we’re preparing next. But we were only talking about how nice it would be to play at Ljubljana's Cvetličarna again.

Pass by Maribor too, go a bit to the clubs in the Balkans, and that’s it. This is our home; this is our base. If we don’t feel good at home, we can’t feel good anywhere. We told ourselves that we need to find love in our base again. I’m glad we recognise this, that we’re not just banging our heads against a brick wall. The purpose of this tour is simply to enjoy it.

A few years ago, you told my colleague Robert Rebolj, my fellow journalist, and your fellow musician, that you’d like to have kids while still young. Yet you also say that you're in a period where several of your ideals have collapsed as you look at the world around you. Does the desire still remain?

When I said that, I was thinking I’d have my first child between the ages of 28 and 30. Then Robert told me that having a child young doesn’t necessarily mean that. (laughs) I see it now, too, as some of my friends already have children, and some even their second. My calendar no longer just has friends’ birthdays, but, for instance, the first birthday of a friend’s child. (laughs) Yes, I think a lot about how this world is in many ways not what I imagined it would be, but I guess it’s always been that way throughout history—things have never been ideal. I think everyone, in every era, has felt the world is going to- hmmm, well, that’s how it seems to me too. (laughs)

[riinawriter]

WORKSHEET: Deep Characters Development

Hey everyone!! 💕

After sharing some of my tips on writing, I got a few messages asking—how do you actually make your characters grow in a way that feels natural and powerful?

✨ So I created a worksheet to guide you through it! Whether you're building a slow-burn transformation or showing your character cracking under pressure, this step-by-step worksheet will help you map out their journey clearly and effectively. It's perfect for plotting or revising!

Let me know how it works for your WIP—I love hearing how your characters evolve! 💛

You can find the worksheet HERE.

[dlscenarios]

Wonderland

Colin Bridgerton x f!Reader SMUT

"Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought..."

Cw: BRIEF BOOK SPOILER (only Danbury's lil contest, nothing more), SMUT, Feminine Reader (No body parts mentioned but they wear a nightgown & deemed a "lady of the ton"), Period accurate ideals on propriety & marriage, Dominant Colin/Sub Reader, First Time, Blowjob (I have never written a blowjob so in depth, my god), Come Eating

Started Kinktober with a Bridgerton, ending it with a DIFFERENT Bridgerton.

MDNI

All was quiet in your house. The clock in your room told you it was after midnight; everyone in your house was surely asleep, even the few servants your parents hired. Yet you were firmly planted at your writing desk, rereading another Whistledown article. After Lady Danbury's promise of a thousand pounds to whomever unmasks the anonymous writer, you had been working tirelessly to scan every page and find any slips in her identity.

The candle at your side was nearing its end when you heard a sudden rapping at your window. Jumping in your seat, you whipped around only to roll your eyes at the familiar figure. You set your quill in its holder and stood to open the window.

"Colin, what on earth are you doing here?" You chastised, stepping back as he climbed into your room. You lowered your voice, "It's the middle of the night!"

"I merely wished to see a friend." He flashed that cheeky, boyish grin that you swore you've seen millions of times before as he straightened his waistcoat.

You shut the window behind him, peering out to check the street. "What if someone saw you?"

"It's the middle of the night." He repeated your words and smiled innocently at the glare you shot him. "Speaking of..." He gestured toward your desk. "What has kept you up?"

You sighed through your nose and paced back to it, stacking the papers into a neat pile. "I'm afraid your sister has gotten into my head. She believes Whistledown has made a mistake in one of her issues that could lead to her identity. Besides, I could use a thousand pounds, so I might as well join the hunt."

"Found anything?" Colin stepped up to your side, peering down the articles in your hands.

"Not yet, but I only just started the 1815 editions." Avoiding his gaze, you left your desk to store the papers in a drawer, unaware that his eyes followed your every move. "In any case, you should not be here."

Colin rolled his eyes and groaned, "This again?"

"If anyone saw you scaling the second story of a house that is not yours, this could turn into a scandal."

"Why would I be scaling my own house anyway?"

"That is beside the point." You jabbed an index finger in his direction. "Just because it is late does not mean all of Mayfair is asleep."

"Says the one presently only in a nightgown." He retorted, knowing damn well it would cease your nagging about propriety. Your state of dress looked just as scandalous as his appearance in your room.

Your arms crossed over your chest. You hoped the action came off as more annoyance than sudden awareness of how little you were wearing. "It was not as if someone awarded me the chance to grab a robe. Besides, we have known each other for years. You saw me in leading strings."

"A child viewing another child in full dress is nothing compared to a grown man seeing a beautiful lady in nothing but a thin nightgown."

Your head tilted as his word choice dawned on you. "Beautiful? Colin-"

"Perhaps I said too much." He interrupted and turned to the same window he had come in through, avoiding meeting your eyes in shame.

You dashed in front of him and spread your arms, effectively blocking him from his escape. "No, no, no! You are not leaving after that."

Colin cracked a side smile, teasing, "Were you not just nagging me for being here?"

"That was before you said I was beautiful." You hesitantly lowered your arms. "Did you mean that?"

He stepped closer, green eyes bearing into your own. They only briefly shifted to your lips before returning. "Of course I meant it. Look at you." His gaze darted around your body. "It is baffling that you are nearing spinsterhood with no suitors. You are beautiful, intelligent, caring, witty...Any man would be lucky to have you."

Your heart caught in your chest. The man in front of you had been a friend for most of your life — had always called on you just to cheer you up after you failed to receive suitors — and you had found yourself wishing he was more for around half of that, but it had always been nothing more than an unrealistic fantasy to you. Colin was a Bridgerton for Christ's sake. He had women practically throwing themselves at him, especially after his return from traveling and attendance in the ongoing social season. Why would he be interested in you? Or worse, anyone like you.

A skeptic smile grew on your face. "It seems as if Cyprus has changed you. You never said I was anything close to beautiful before."

His eyes never left yours as he whispered, "Perhaps it did. However...I have learned a lot from my travels, including how I have been taking you for granted. I could not function without your letters. That was why I kept writing you. I would send correspondence to my family, of course, but you were the only one I wrote to every single week. Even my own mother did not hear from me that often. And every time you sent a letter back, I dropped every plan I had just to read it and respond. If anything, Cyprus made me realize how much I need you in my life. "

"Colin..." You started only to trail off. You had no idea what to say. His confession felt almost like a dream, one you'd surely wake from at any moment. His face was closer than it had ever been during your entire friendship. That alone would have made you speechless, but the words accompanying it...

"I need you, Y/N..." His voice came out quieter, nearly low enough to miss.

You repeated his name again, slowly realizing that his face was, indeed, getting closer. Your eyes fluttered shut on instinct and, not a second later, the very real softness of lips were on yours. A hand brushed up your neck, its thumb caressing your jaw once it rested below your ear as Colin deepened the kiss. His tongue prodded against your bottom lip, coaxing it apart from its upper half to seek out your own tongue. His other hand grazed along your bare arm, leaving a warm, ticklish trail in its wake as it gripped your shoulder. Its twin lowered and rested at your back, keeping you perfectly still against Colin.

As your own hands rose to cup Colin's face, the sudden chill of the window's glass touching your upper back lead you to retreat further into him. Colin moaned against your lips, quickly noticing the way your nipples pebbled through the thin cotton of your gown. You returned his moan as if on instinct before the hand situated on your back slipped lower, an open palm taking your ass into it.

You gasped, parting from Colin much to his chagrin. As if the kiss had been a veil to the outside world, blocking every other feeling aside from his hands and lips, you gazed up at him, noticing the unfamiliar sensation of his arousal against you. Colin was unable to stop himself from leaning in for another, softer peck all while never tearing his eyes from yours.

His breath fanned against your parted lips as he muttered, "You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that." The hand on your backside moved tantalizingly slow up your back as he continued. "How long I have wanted to have you like this. How I have thought of you every night I was away and wished you were in that bed with me."

"Colin..," you whispered, unable to form any other words in your head.

He pecked your cheek before leaning closer to your ear, "I love you."

You chased his words, turning your head just enough to breathe against his cheek. He slowly placed another kiss to you, then one on your temple, and again on your warm cheek then finally back to your lips. Surely, you thought, Colin could feel your heart nearly beating out of your chest every time his lips touched your skin. Both of his hands trailed down your sides as you feebly gripped the lapel of his coat, suddenly wishing to throw it off of him.

You had missed the faint smirk Colin wore as he pecked your cheek again. "Were you not just trying to kick me out, my love~?" He held you closer, despite how you impossible you thought that was, and softly pressed a kiss to your shoulder. "This could be scandalous~"

You remained speechless as he straightened his stance, hand slithering up to take yours. Your hold lessened on his clothing and briefly glanced to his lips before rising to mirthful eyes.

Colin smirked, lightly squeezing your hand and leaning his forehead onto yours, "You're beautiful...You're perfect." You tilted your head up, capturing his lips in a feeble kiss before he pulled away. "If we do not stop, this truly will cause a scandal~”

The glint of knowing in your eyes didn't go unnoticed. He wanted you. In the way you'd been taught only a husband should want his spouse, he wanted you. The way that, if the ton found out of this, would claim Colin had ruined you, but perhaps he already had as you found yourself wanting him in that same way. Your free hand trailed down along his front, never looking away from the hint of worry in his gaze.

"Please..." you muttered. He studied you for a brief moment before gathering you into his arms again and bringing you into a softer, loving kiss. An innocent kiss despite the fact that the hardness in his trousers still poked you. His lips left yours to mouth at your neck then your shoulder. Your head lolled back against the window as you quietly moaned, "Colin..."

He pressed another kiss to your neck, followed by one right below your ear as his voice, now gruff and laced with need, whispered, "I have an idea."

Colin's hands still secured you against him. If you were being honest, it was the only thing holding you up. You stared at him curiously and waited for him to continue.

"On your knees."

The command struck a cord within as you immediately sunk down to the floor in front of him, still gazing up at him as he sucked in a sharp breath. His hand pushed your hair back and away from your face. One of your own remained stagnant on his thigh. Colin had to bite back an expletive. He never thought you could look any more beautiful than you did at that moment, looking up at him with nothing but love and patience for his next move.

Biting his lip, Colin threw off his coat and tugged at his cravat. After undoing the few buttons of his shirt, his hand paused by the button on the side of his trousers. He looked down with a silent ask if you wanted to continue. Your breathing had become heavier as you nodded. Colin's free hand stole yours from his thigh, thumb grazing over the skin reassuringly as he undid his trousers. They fell in time with his undergarments, leaving his lower half completely exposed in front of you.

Your breath caught in your chest. As one would assume from an unmarried person in society, you had never seen anyone so exposed in person. Only your dreams had you imagined such, most of which involved your closest friend currently aroused by mere kisses. You looked up at him for guidance, unsure of what he wanted you to do.

He took his erection into his free hand, lining it up with your parted lips.

"Open..." His soft command almost came out like a plea. Slowly and hesitantly, your lips parted further, briefly glancing to his cock before darting back to his face. "Poke your tongue out."

You did as told, free hand digging into the fabric of your skirt before his tip made contact with your tongue. He paused there for a moment, whether waiting for assurance to continue or admiring through view, you couldn't tell. The hand tightly holding yours left to gather your hair into it.

"Close your mouth. I'll move slow. Watch your teeth." He waited perfectly still for your lips to wrap around the head of his hardened cock. Carefully, he pushed into your mouth, whispering a moan as he felt the warm heat enclose around him.

With each shallow thrust of his hips, he tested guiding you further along his length until your nose brushed against the thatch of dark hair at the base. Colin released a louder moan, not loud enough to alert your family of his presence, of course. You let him guide your head, eyes fluttering shut as your tongue runs along his skin.

The act itself had never made it into your fantasies, but you were certain the memory would plague you for the rest of your life. You savored Colin's touch, his moans, his taste as if he'd disappear after he was finished. That by some cruel twist of fate, he wouldn't remember this encounter come morning and you would be relegated to his side as nothing but a friend. Your throat contracted around the tip as his grip grew tighter in your hair.

His thrusts grew shorter but quicker. A shuttered whisper of "God..." clued you in and why. He was close, which meant he was enjoying your mouth pleasing him. You were the one making him feel that way, not some woman he'd met during his travels and not a meaningless debutante he'd plucked from the dance floor.

"Fuck, I can't..." he whispered — the first time he'd sworn in your presence, really — before thrusting a final time against your tongue and pulling you away. He gripped himself with his other hand, the one still weaved in your hand tilting your chin up. As he began to stroke himself, the slick squishes of your saliva mixing with his pants as the only sounds in the room, his green eyes met your glassy ones.

"Open..." he commanded. You did just as he asked, eyes closing as he released another melodic moan before feeling something hit your tongue. Colin continued to groan above you, his seed landing against your lips, a bit dripping down your chin.

When he finally released your head, your eyes opened and instinctively swallowed the slightly sticky substance. It wasn't bad, you blushed at the realization. You met Colin's eyes as he tried to catch his breath.

"God..," he uttered, thumb going to swipe the remnants of his come from your kiss-bruised lips, only to be stopped when you kissed the pad of it and parting your lips enough to suck the clear, sticky substance off. Colin huffed, an adoring smirk blooming on his face, "You're going to be the death of me."

After releasing his thumb, he helped you stand, your arms wrapping around his neck in an attempt at keeping yourself steady. You ripped your gaze away to find your clock, seeing just how late it had gotten. Colin pecked your cheek.

"I will leave you to rest." His whispered words coaxed you back to his face. "Perhaps our families could promenade at the park tomorrow. I'm sure they will like to know their children are engaged."

Your eyes widen at his smirk. "Engaged...?"

"You did not think I would confess my love and leave without a proposal, did you?" Colin quipped, once again causing your heart to nearly beat out of your chest.

Not knowing how else to respond, you whispered, "I love you..."

Colin softly kissed you, his nose brushing against yours as you part before he responds with a smile. "And I love you, fiancé~"

As a grin spread across yours face, Colin held you tighter. If it weren't for the scandal of it all, you hoped he'd never leave. You hoped to never leave.

[acourtofthought]

real talk: did the bracket thing lacking any Lucien/Elucien moments shake you at all? None of the bs articles or anything ever bothered me bc it wasn’t BB or SJM. But now it’s making me anxious: Lucien is supposed to be the next book w Elain. Why wouldn’t they represent him at all? Shouldn’t they be hyping up the characters we will be expecting next? It’s the publishers job to control the narrative… I just need my Lucien book 😭😭

Not at all. This was a fan made bracket which basically equates to "HS Popularity Contest for Class President" so we shouldn't have expected Bloomsbury to list what they wanted to see. If the teachers and Principal were making their top selection for Class President, the qualities they used to make their choice would look a lot different than the rating scale used by a bunch of 16/17 year olds. Even what Sarah herself would select as the top ACOTAR moments would probably look a lot different than what a group of really loud fanpeoples might choose. Bloomsbury didn't decide who to hype up, they let the fans decide and I'm not bothered by Elucien not being "the most popular ship" in the fandom because the fandom only makes up a very small portion of ACOTAR readers. Many casual readers I've spoken to think Elucien is happening, don't think much at all about E/riel but still rank Feysand as their favorite couple of the series. So all this noise about E/riel, Gwynriel, and even Elucien, that's made by the most dedicated (aka obsessed) of us and while I have absolutely no shame in that fact, it's leaving out a huge chunk of people who could have contributed to the vote but have absolutely no interest in following Bloomsbury let alone gathering their forces to vote certain moments or create multiple burner accounts to vote with. And while I ADORE Lucien and think he's the best male of the ACOTAR series, I am realistic enough to acknowledge that the series has been focused on Feyre and Nesta and their mates so far. I love the Lucien scenes but I don't know that it's fair to put his moments as more important than anything we've seen for Feyre (especially), Nesta, or Elain. And with Feyre's home now being in the NC, of course the Bat Boys will feature more heavily at this point. That still doesn't change the fact that Sarah has been building Lucien up for something amazing and that fan favorite or not, she's going to write a POV for him whenever she wants to (just like she did with Chaol's book though he wasn't a fan favorite at that time). And since this is the same author who was so excited to shock readers with Bryce landing in Prythian, something she didn't even tell her husband about, I wouldn't expect anyone to hint at Lucien's book being next even if that is the case.

[voylitscope]

Old newspapers are a great source for details like costs and very localized stories and controversies. And, because I am always thinking about them, I thought it would be fun to browse some old papers for a little historically accurate, pre-war, Stucky research. I feel like this sort of information is great for fic writing. I also just feel like it's super interesting.

I used the Brooklyn Eagle:

All ads/articles were pulled from March 10th, July 5th, (I wanted the 4th but that wasn't available) and today, October 16th of 1939.

Please enjoy: prices for clothes, appliances, apartments, movies, dancing, dinner, travel, and more. Also, a World's Fair Schedule, a suspect old recipe, a report on the controversy over the naming of Bed-Stuy, the knowledge that Coney Island had a record number of visitors on July 4th, 1939, and more amazing 1939 Brooklyn content.

Store prices:

Night out prices:

(Dancing on Coney Island for $1.25! )

(Actual Katherine Hepburn in the stage play of The Philadelphia Story! Whispering Enemies: a smash action show!)

Travel costs:

Costs for other activities:

Apartment listings:

For reference, $45 in 1939 is about $1,020 in 2024.

At the World's Fair:

(The cost of Fair tickets seems to have been a running controversy. The Letter to the Editor is from March 10th. The Schedule is from July 5th. Do you ever think about Steve and Bucky going to the World's Fair? Because I think about it all the time.)

Around Brooklyn:

(I honestly do not even fully know what is happening in this Ebbets Field one, but I think it's sort of incredible.)

(Listen. Please never feel like any fic premise you have ever, or will ever, come up with, is contrived or unrealistic. Because, today I learned that once, in 1939, this "popularity contest" happened. So, truly. Go wild.)

(What amazing headline work, the Brooklyn Eagle. Absolutely no notes. Just stellar. 10/10. I realize this one didn't actually happen in Brooklyn, but I had to include it.)

Just a bit more very 1939 content:

[twig-tea]

Love in the Big City Timeline in the Series

Here are the facts I've put together about the timeline in the series (which feels, unlike the book, a little more linear and so actually possible to do this with):

[indeterminate, elementary school, est. early 2000s] Yeong's mom finds out about Yeong's father's second family and divorces him

[indeterminate, high school, est. late 2000s] Yeong is caught kissing another boy on the playground and institutionalized by his mother

2012: The year that T-ara's song Sexy Love comes out (at this point I've just kept this on here for reference)

2014: As per his own narration in ep5, this is the year Yeong contracts HIV (in Feb) and is diagnosed by the military (and he only spends 1 month in the military before getting a medical discharge). He meets with the T-aras a few months later and says they're next for the military (shoutout to @impala124); he meets Nam Gyu and Mi Ae in late 2014, and Mi Ae tries to bum a cigarette from him in Dec 2014 (shout-out to @my-rose-tinted-glasses); Yeong moves in with Mi Ae in either late 2014 or early 2015, and soon after that is the T-ara karaoke sendoff after which he breaks up with Nam Gyu.

2015: Mi Ae's application to her job had 2015 on it; Mi Ae goes to the job retreat for a month, meets Jun Ho, and then several months after that, Yeong stops talking to Mi Ae for 10 months after she outs him. Some time in late 2015/early 2016, Yeong breaks things off with Nam Gyu again.

2016: We know Yeong won the contest in 2016 as per the book we see on Yeong Su's nightstand, and since Yeong called Mi Ae after that, we know they reconciled in 2016. Also, as per the last text message from him, Nam Gyu dies in 2016. After his funeral, Yeong takes over Mi Ae's apartment and Mi Ae gets married. Also, Yeong's mother gets diagnosed with cancer 3 years before she dies, which would be 3 years before Yeong tells Gyu Ho about Kylie, so that means her cancer diagnosis was also in 2016.

2017: Yeong Su tells Yeong he's moving to America [guessing based on how much time seemed to pass in their relationship]; Yeong attempts suicide

2018: Yeong Su sends Yeong the manuscript (which he throws out) [we know this was a year after Yeong Su leaves, but before Yeong's mother dies]

2019: Yeong's mother dies [I'm inferring because we know Yeong tells Gyu-Ho about Kylie in Jan 2020 after his mother's death and after they'd been seeing each other for a little while, so that puts Yeong's mother's death in 2019]

2020: We see Yeong's phone date the day he tells Gyu-Ho about Kylie as Saturday, Jan 25, which was a date in 2020 (but not 2019) [shoutout to @my-rose-tinted-glasses for pointing this out]; Yeong also has an article in his office with 2020 on it, so he was definitely dating Gyu-Ho and had moved from his job at the musical theatre to the company by 2020.

2021: [This is a guess, but we know Yeong's been together with Gyu-Ho for a year when he complains to the T-aras about their relationship and they suggest a trip, so I'm guessing the trip to Bangkok took place in Feb 2021 (around Chinese new year)--my best attempt to date this was the reference to the construction of the Pearl Building in Bangkok but that was constructed 2015-2017]

2022: Shoutout to @my-rose-tinted-glasses for catching the label on the package of his suitcase that Gyu-Ho buys for Shanghai, which says Jan 2022. We know Gyu-Ho leaves for Shanghai soon after that because in Feb 2023 the T-aras check in with Yeong saying it's 'that time of year'.

2023: In Feb 2023 we see Yeong quits his company to be a full-time writer; he writes the date on the book he signs for his former colleague and on his phone screen we can see Feb 2023 as well. We also got some confirmations of the timeline above, since he says in his voiceovers in eps 7&8 that it's been a year since Gyu-Ho left and he's been living with Kylie 9 years. [Note: there were subs in ep7 that said 2022, but they don't align with what's actually on screen]. In March, Yeong goes to Bangkok with Q/Habibi (Habibi's phone screen says it's March 8 when Yeong looks at it in the shower).

Feel free to correct me or add any concrete dates that I missed! I've now updated this with details from the last 2 episodes on Nov 12.

[awesomehoggirl]

starting a new thing called SUMMER OF REJECTION bc i dont want the fear of rejection to keep holding me back from writing and generally putting myself out there. this summer we are pitching articles and entering writing contests and putting ourselves in awkward social situations and the end goal is NOT to succeed it is to GET BETTER AT HANDLING REJECTION

[silverryuan]

Azul Ashengrotto with a Bad Genius reader (Part 1)

I accidentally made this fic longer than expected.

Warning: Slight Swearing

• Unlike my previous fics, you are from Twisted Wonderland and currently reside in it. And yay, you're in a dorm!

• You are a prodigy raised by your father. Growing up from the struggles of poverty, you study with tremendous efforts so that your father wouldn't have to pay for the tuition fees. Not only you gained the highest honors, you also gained skills from the experiences attending in multiple clubs. You missed the first month of school at Night Raven College despite receiving a letter from them because you needed a part-time job for financial support for you and your father.

• You sometimes contemplate quitting school for the sake of helping your poor father, but it all changed after you saw an article on your phone... An article of the Octavinelle Dorm's cafe, Mostro Lounge are hiring new student employees! You triple-checked the article, it's sources and even it's photos if it's legit and turns out it is! You immediately grabbed the opportunity to study and work on campus.

• You sit down in your desk to write a letter to NRC requesting to attend school now that you're no longer busy and send it via mail. Why didn't they just send the message through the phone? Because it's tradition. Not even a day passed, they sent you another letter, stating that the Ebony Carriage will escort you. Your father, now jumping with joy, told you to pack up your things. Although you dislike the fact that your father brought your trophies and medals with him, it would be a good proof if they doubt the 100s on your report cards.

• You arrived at Night Raven College via carriage and a ghost appeared to lead you to the headmaster's office. You and your father marvelled at how large the campus is but there's a weight of nervousness on your chest reminding you of how much it costs to attend such a prestigious academy. When you arrive at the front of the office, you grew even more nervous. Your father noticed this and held your hand, squeezing it, and he reassures you that they will accept you as their student. That calmed you down and you squeezed his hand, smiling back. You two pulled your hands back and straightened your posture after you hear a muffled "Come in" from the door.

• The headmaster, Dire Crowley, interviewed you and asked you cliché questions that you can easily answer like- Why do you want to study in this school? Do you know how big the responsibility of becoming a NRC student? If a certain terrible incident occurs on campus, what would you do and would you involve your headmas-- Wait, what was that last question?

Crowley: "Ahem! Now that I've heard your answers, it seems that you are very interested and motivated to be a student here. And judging by your report cards... Sevens, are these digits for real?... Despite having average magical abilities, you are obviously a prodigy of great talent. Is there anything else you would like to add?"

Father: "O-Oh yes, yes... I was thinking of presenting these to you, sir!"

• Your father pulled a box filled with your awards and certificates out of nowhere, meanwhile you're just getting embarassed because he also included the ones you have in kindergarten to grade school. You are rather impressed at how good he is at memorising which award is which.

Father: "... This ribbon is for best in finger painting in kindergarten. This award is from a sports competition at middle school... This one is from a swimming contest at grade school... This trophy is my favourite, it's from a math contest..."

BadGenius! Yuu: "Dad, I already told you many times. The school doesn't have a scholarship. That won't convince-"

Crowley: "Please do not fret! These are enough. I forgot to inform you that Night Raven College does not have a scholarship for we only teach potential mages. The fact that we are the ones that sent you the letter signifies that you fit the criteria. And although you are late, I am willing to enroll you here as a student, for I am gracious!"

BadGenius! Yuu: ".... I-I'm sorry, what?"

Father: "As in... for free?"

Crowley: "Indeed! Now all you have to do is ask the Dark Mirror where to orient you."

Father: "N-No payments whatsoever?"

Crowley: "As long as they study with diligence and work hard with determination to be recognized as the pride of our academy, I assure you that you will not be paying a single dime! Are there any more questions?"

• Your father stood from his seat and shook the headmaster's hand excitedly and you're just there, mouth agape and eyes wide open. Didn't think it'd be this easy to convince him.

Father: "None! Thank you, sir! Thank you so much! You are very generous!"

Crowley: "Yes, yes. My generosity knows no bounds!"

BadGenius! Yuu: "........."

• Press X to doubt. You bet that the headmaster allowed it because he thought if he enrolled you, the college would have a chance against their rival academy. Speaking of academies, you've actually heard of Royal Sword Academy. The students are all gifted and proper there, but you doubt they won't have room for someone who's in the lower-class of society.

• You found your place at the Octavinelle Dormitory and have a... Talking monster thing on fire? He's obviously pretending to be a student here but it's also obvious that he somehow snuck inside the dorm. You were about to kick him out but reconsidered after he offered to assist you with magic lessons in a panic. You decided that he can stay with you until you are able to enhance your magical skills further. "Fnyagh... Fine, deal! Just don't kick me out!" The monster now known as Grim sighed in relief.

• The job, which is the other reason you enrolled, is currently available for hiring interviews. You asked the hyena beastman waiter at the lounge where the interviews are being held. He called a man who's as tall as a fucking skyscraper named Jade and expressed relief since the lounge is running low on employees. You just followed him to the VIP room and observed him like, damn... Is he even in high school? What did his parents feed him? Why does he look familiar... Wait! He's one of the waiters in the background in one of the article photos!

?????: "Ughhh Jaaade! I'm tireeed! Azul keeps telling me to keep serving customeeers! It's boriiing!"

Jade: "Oya? Now, now, Floyd. Have patience. I found a new... Part-timer for Azul."

Floyd: "Hah? That Shrimpy right there?"

BadGenius! Yuu: "...Shrimpy?"

Jade: "Excuse my brother, he's in a bad mood lately. Come this way, please."

Floyd: "Jaaade! Ugh, screw this. I'm just gonna go out and find someone to squeeze!"

• That guy wasted no time and left the lounge. You and Jade arrived at what looks like an office door and he knocked. Once you heard a voice granting permission from the other side, you and him entered. You stopped to admire the business-esque aesthetic of the office and that huge vault at the back... "Ahem!" A voice snapped you out of your trance. A man with glasses and silver hair sat behind a desk waiting. Jade stood beside the man still smiling.

BadGenius! Yuu: "S-sorry."

????: "It's alright. Have a seat. You wish to speak with me?"

BadGenius! Yuu: "Thank you... I was wondering if you're still hiring new student employees?"

????: "Oh, of course! We still are, BadGenius! Yuu."

BadGenius! Yuu: "Oh that's good then... How do you know my name?"

Azul: "My apologies, I almost forgot to introduce myself. I am Octavinelle's dorm leader and I also happened to run Mostro Lounge, Azul Ashengrotto. It's a pleasure meeting you BadGenius! Yuu. The headmage, Dire Crowley, sorted you in this dorm, yes? He's already given every Octavinelle student profiles to me."

BadGenius! Yuu: "Oh... That's right."

Azul: "That aside, do you really want this job? This establishment requires only the patient and quick employees who are dedicated to their work. Are you qualifed?"

BadGenius! Yuu: "Yes, sir. If you have doubts, I have my resume ready. Would you like to have a look?"

• Azul nodded and you hand him your resume filled with experiences from your previous part-time jobs. Azul read your papers, trying to hide his astonishment but you could tell by his eyes. Jade leaned down, covered his mouth, and whispered something you didn't quite hear in Azul's ear. The silver-haired man widened his eyes and looked at Jade as if he's confirming something. Jade nods with his index and thumb finger on his chin, grinning at Azul. Azul straightened his posture and initiated the most uncomfortable eye contact with you, causing you to flinch in your seat.

Azul: "........."

BadGenius! Yuu: ".............."

Azul: "................................."

BadGenius! Yuu: "..............................................."

Jade: "😊..."

BadGenius! Yuu: ".... Is something wro--"

Azul: "You're hired, BadGenius! Yuu."

BadGenius! Yuu: "H-huh?"

Jade: "Congratulations."

BadGenius! Yuu: "Wait- you're just going to hire me? Just like that?? No interviews???"

Azul: "You're qualified enough. You start your work today with the guidance of your senior, Jade Leech. Unfortunately, a certain employee of mine is... Not on duty as of now. You'll be temporarily replacing him. If you don't have any more inquiries, then you are free to leave."

BadGenius! Yuu: "Um... I also have a familiar with me, is that ok?"

Azul: "As long as they don't cause trouble and are well-behaved, it's fine."

BadGenius! Yuu: "Well... Alright then."

Jade: "Let's do our best."

BadGenius! Yuu: "Same. Please treat me well, senpai."

• You exited the VIP room and started working on serving tables with Jade. You could've sworn you heard Azul mumble something as you left the room.

• The work is harder than you expected. There are MANY types of costumers you didn't know a single establishment could have. Ranging from the gluttonous students from Savanaclaw who gobbled down every dish you placed on the table and couldn't wait for more. The Heartslabyul students who can't decide what to order on the menu and constantly ask for recommendations. The antisocial Ignihyde students who prefer to wait on empty tables in the corner. And of course, the Pomefiore students who are Karens that act like they're going to die if their dish isn't 100% organic.

• As if the work isn't already tiring enough, a stubborn Pomefiore student ordered a dish and got angry when he saw shellfish in it and it turns out he is actually allergic. You apologize to the customer but he smashed the plate to the floor, shouting insults at you. The noise made the other students uncomfortable and moved to farther tables.

Pomefiore Karen: "Hey, what the hell is this?! Don't you know that I am allergic to shellfish?!"

BadGenius! Yuu: "I'm sorry, i didn't know--"

Pomefiore Karen: "Don't know?! I'm a regular here! You waiters should have known that by now!"

BadGenius! Yuu: "Listen here, sir. I'm a new worker. So if you could just calm down a bit and stop scaring the other customers, I'll--"

• Your attempt at calming him down failed as he splattered his drink all over you. Your Octavinelle uniform is soaking wet now but the he still hasn't had enough.

Pomefiore Karen: "This is ridiculous! I'd like to speak with your manager! How insulting!"

Azul: "What seems to be the problem?"

• Azul appeared out of nowhere or probably because he heard the noise and went to see the ruckus. He saw Jade, who was supposed to be in the kitchen, stepped out and Ruggie, who was supposed to be serving tables, stopped to observe the commotion as well. He turned his head to see what they're looking at and see his newly hired employee already getting the Karen Customer Special on the first day of work. He groaned in exhaustion... He's got a lot on his plate and he certainly doesn't want to deal with rambunctious people like him right now, so might as well throw him outside.

Pomefiore Karen: "Are you the manager?"

Azul: "Yes, I am."

Pomefiore Karen: "Well your employee here just served me a dish that I'm allergic to! Do they have no shame?! Is this how you treat your regulars?! I demand a refund!"

BadGenius! Yuu: "I'm sorry, sir. I'll pay for the--"

Azul: "Whether you're a regular here or not, it doesn't matter. They've apologized, did they not? Yet you mistreat them and disturb the peace the other customers are trying to enjoy during their meal. I shall not tolerate this. Jade, show them the door."

Jade: "Gladly."

Ruggie: "Shishishi! Finally!"

Pomefiore Karen: "H-Hey! What are you doing?! Let go of me! Get your hands off..."

• Azul then turned to you and asked if you're okay. You insist you're alright and he told you to take a break and go to the kitchen to dry yourself. That's where you met Ruggie, another part-timer in Mostro Lounge and a student from Savanaclaw. He teased you about your predicament, thanking you for sacrificing your uniform for the sake of kicking the Pomefiore Karen out. It seems like the hyena beastman dealt with him many times before judging by the sound of relief in his voice. That man was really hard to please...

• Days later, you finally get the hang of things here in NRC. Crowley has been giving you TONS of favors and he guilt trips you into thinking that you took his "kindness" in enrolling you as an advantage... And you somehow fell for it. Every. Single. Fucking. Time. Seriously, how are you falling for it? I mean, his acting was bad but you accepted those favors or else he'll revoke your father's deal. You made some friends, although they're not great study mates but they still stick with you and Grim.

• And speaking of studies, you actually became one of the most intelligent students at NRC, your grades on par with Riddle Rosehearts and Azul Ashengrotto. Makes sense since you have bigger scores at both written tests AND physical tests than they do. Your participation in multiple club activities made the load much lighter. Your well thought out ideas and suggestions for the improvement of school events pleased even the dorm leaders. You helped your friends with their own studies by explaining the instructions like a preschool teacher to a 5 year old. Your diligence and dedication to your studies easily became the reason why you're the teachers' favorite.

• ........ But Azul didn't like that.

To be Continued...