#ohhh moody blue

[oliver-do-the-twist]

In honor of the Kings birthday I'd thought I finally share this

"Moody Blue" 20x24in done in oil

I think I'm in love with this one ngl, it took me a while to finish

Edit: I am currently working on getting a high quality scan so I can put this on my redbubble. Prints will be available soon, check out my pinned post!

[girlwithwolftatoo]

Hey! How would the moon boys react to fem!reader? Cupping their face in her hand out of the blue?

Weather is more than appropiate for fluff stuff <3

Moon Boys + Reader cupping their face

Marc Spector:

The most reluctant of three. He craves for signs of affection but won't react positively to it at first.

Your hands holding his face makes him feel... weird, a little vulnerable, a little childish. Consider most of his childhood and adolescence he didn't get much love.

"Drop it" he murmurs, but he's not serious. Won't take your hands off, won't turn away, he just struggles with his own feelings.

Little by little, he breaks. He sobs with an expression of embarrasment, as if waiting you'd find it ridiculous or stupid (which of course, isn't the case), and may kneel down as you still cup his face, all defeated and tired.

Listening words of reassurement and compassion is the best for him. Feeling you trust him and love him despite any mistake or flaw gives him the self-confidence he lost so long time ago, and the fact you don't judge him is even more important.

"I'm sorry, I... I know I'm not good foor you..." "You never say that again, Marc. It's a lie. You're good, for yourself and for me"

Steven Grant:

You probably caught him in the middle of a crisis or a panic attack, mumbling so fast his accent becomes thicker and you can barely undestand what he says, and once you put your hands on his jaw...

"What are...? Ohhh that feels better, yes..." he murmurs as soon as the warmth of your hands relax him almost immediately.

May close his eyes just to enjoy your spoils, even will accept to sit and, perhaps, a little massage on the shoulders (he's very ticklish so be careful).

Little by little, his tangled mind takes a straight trail of thoughts, and he vents everything in a more calmed tone. It's not just the flesh to flesh contact, it's the fact you're there, listening him, what helps him to recover quick.

Chances are he may reccomend to take a nap together, just to be sure he'll wake up in a better mood, or simply make some tea for you and him as a gesture of appreciation for what you did.

"Honestly don't know what would I do if you weren't here, love"

Jake Lockley:

For this case I can imagine two scenarios: one, Jake returning early in the morning, all tired and moody, or two, you having to approach Jake to calm him down since he's losing a little his temper and probably about to do something hideous.

If it's the first case, Jake simply walks in, dropping his jacket nd mumbling something about being sick of everything. Once your hands reach his face, he sighs almost in relief, as if he just entered a hot bathtub.

"I'd wish I could spend night here with you instead of outside more often, bonita" he complains and groans like an exhausted dog, allowing you to rub his face. A soft smile appears in his lips, and you know he's back to normal again, like a spell.

The other scenario sounds dangerous, but not because of Jake. As soon as he feels your presence right next to him, something in his mind sounds an alarm and he stops anything he's doing. If you'd got hurt during his watch, he would never forgive himself.

"Jake, Jake!" anyways you need to call him out to be sure he's paying attention. "It's okay, mi amor, it's over". Just a single hand will do, and he cups it into his own hand, gently squitting his eyes.

"Perdóname, princesa, I just... had a bad time" he murmurs, grabbing onto your hand as if he'd never let it go.

[ni-kol-koru]

8, 14, 23

For either of the Miyajis. Or both ;)

Ohhh, love this one! Thank you so much for sending the numbers! Of course, I will do both of them! To visually separate the post I will use the orange heart for Kiyoshi 🧡 and the yellow heart for Yuuya 💛

8. What's something that the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

Kiyoshi 🧡 :

Of course it has to be the fandom's need to exaggerate Kiyoshi's bad temper and tendencies to say some foul things. My man has a bad temper, yes, but the fandom is acting like he can't chill, like everything pisses him off all the time and that just makes him look like a terrible person. We've seen him relaxed when he was walking with Taisuke after the exams that day. We know he is actually pretty generous and kind, he literally gave his personal items to Shintaro because they were his lucky items. We heard how genuine and sweet he can be when he finds Shintaro and Kazunari fooling around with the piano (from the special CD). People act like he is just angry all the time and ignore his better sides and all of his other qualities, hobbies and personality traits. He is just a little moody and irritable, like all of us are sometimes. He is just a human, he experiences ups and he experiences downs, he has good and he has bad days. His foul language also has nothing to do with his actions! Has he ever thrown a pineapple on someone's head? Has he ever buried, fried, ran someone over with Shinsuke's pick up truck? I don't think so. The worst he's done was smack the back of Shintaro's head to help him regain his composure. He's all bark, no bite and I will say that a million times if I have to!

Yuuya 💛 :

People usually ignore his existence, which I obviously don't like. When they don't, which is rare, they tend to do the same thing they do to his brother. They make him out to be nothing but an angry, violent man, which I might dislike even more! Just because his brother is a little moody and irritable doesn't mean that Yuuya is, too! We've seen him throw a basketball on Kazunari's head with the signature 'I will kick you' and people decided to base his personality off that one moment. There isn't much about him, but we do know a few interesting things that his personality could be based off. We know he has a picture of Tae-Chan on his phone (which is pretty cute and wholesome if you ask me), that he becomes the captain of the Shutoku Basketball Club (which is a pretty big achievement), that his eyes are same as his brothers, that he is a Taurus (a sign that's known for being very stubborn and hard-working but also very sweet, genuine, family-oriented and honest) and that he got angry when someone humiliated his big brother on National TV (I would be pissed, too). All of that, and people choose to take the one characteristic they already took for his brother and exaggerate it. I just really wish people didn't do that.

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character?

Kiyoshi 🧡 : I always thought Kiyoshi's hair looked really soft and fluffy and I would like to believe that it's something he would also love to achieve with his fashion. I think he would prefer style to comfort and that he would wear something rather classy as well. So, he would likely wear a vest and a shirt, some comfortable dress pants and dress shoes. When he's feeling cozy and comfortable he would wear a shirt underneath a stylish sweater with baggy jeans and with some comfortable sneakers, or dress shoes yet again. What would make him achieve the soft look would be pastel colors! So, imagine all of that in beige, baby blue, light orange, pink, lavender... He wouldn't add any unnecessary accessories, as he believes that keeping it simple is the best way to make a good outfit. He would not look for any attention with his fashion, and this is something that looks average enough, but still fashionable and stylish! I am not sure what that fashion aesthetic is called, but my Pinterest research says it's something like soft-boy and light academia!

Yuuya 💛 :

His hair suggests that he likes to look a little sharper and a little more dangerous than an average person. I can see him wear something rather punk and emo, something that would make him look a little unapproachable and a little scary. With that said, he would mostly wear darker and non-saturated colors, as well as rough textures like leather or denim! Considering we've seen him wear a skirt, I wouldn't be surprised if he was comfortable with wearing feminine clothes or even makeup. Jackets, vests, crop-tops, band t-shirts, baggy or tight, low-rise pants, skirts, shorts, baggy pants and ripped versions of all those items would make up 99% of his wardrobe. I can also see him adding lots of interesting accessories like rings, belts, chains, necklaces, earrings! He would absolutely kill the style if he had some extra ear or face piercings and wore something like a smeared black eyeliner! Not sure what this aesthetic is called yet again, but I hope you got the idea of what I meant!

23. Favorite picture of this character?

Picking only one is tough, so I will make categories yet again! Unfortunately, Yuuya doesn't have a lot of screenshots and almost no appearances in the Replace Plus novels, games, CDs and the movie... Still, I included everything I could find!

Kiyoshi 🧡 :

Anime screencap:

Manga panel (half of the page):

'See you next week!' card:

Replace Plus novel panel:

Cross Colors picture:

Yuuya 💛 : Anime screenshot:

Manga panel:

BONUS Replace Plus novel panel:

[convex-solos]

hi. time to talk about some of my general takes on convex, the vex and vex magic because i need to share my ramblings with the world (beware this might be. kinda long.)

The Vex

i guess i should start with the vex? yes. so basically vexes are a hivemind: sometimes i just refer to them as The Vex because they are a single entity to me. vexes are hedonistic, they are greedy and vicious creatures who only seek satisfaction for their own needs.

they’re bloodthirsty, sadistic, power-hungry and they thrive in chaos. vexes need an evoker, or at least someone to leach onto, to be bid to the physical world. they can possess people and only have complete loyalty to themselves and their evoker, no one else.

they are driven by their desires and are very volatile, moody and can be quite frivolous sometimes. dealing with them is tricky, they’re easy to anger.

ConVex

scar and cub have precise motivations for making a deal with the vex and become the convex.

cub is kind of like marlow’s dr. faustus, who in order to have access to all existing knowledge he makes a deal with the devil. yeah that’s cub. he’s a magician in the renaissance sense of the word, he sees the world as something ruled by laws that he can understand AND bend to his will.

as of scar, he joins first and foremost because of cub, he’d follow him to the end of the world (and vice versa). but that’s not the only reason, because the vex promises scar that his life, already very precarious, will be sustained by vex magic and as long as he’s bound to them he will not die. he accepts of course but there’s a catch: scar’s life is entirely in the vex’s hands (why else would he be so loyal to them?). the vex have control over cub’s life as well, but that bond is a lot less constricting than scar’s.

they also both have a penchant for violence and pranks. so it all works in their favor (if you don’t count the dubiously consensual possession in S5). in exchange for their bodies (literally) and their unquestioned loyalty they will have unlimited access to vex magic and become vexes themselves. so yeah they accept.

i also have this idea in my head that turning into a vex hurt A LOT because their dna (code??) was completely rewritten. so it’s gory and not pretty. they also ate each other’s hearts at some point because of freaky cult-ish vex rituals i guess.

scar and cub are soulbound after becoming vexes. since they were originally humans they now both have a physical and incorporeal form and they bound each other to the physical plane.

the vex took scar’s right eye and cub’s left one and replaced those with Their eyes to stake a claim on them and to bind them to the hivemind forever. yeah it’s a cult i cannot stress this enough. once a vex, always a vex.

it takes a while for them to get used to being possessed (they never remember much) but it’s evident that after S6 they become fully in control of their powers and magic (the masks aren’t necessary for magic anymore). i like to believe that it’s because they have proven their loyalty so now they can be more independent from the hivemind, but the line between the vex’s will and their own becomes progressively blurrier.

Vex Magic

ohhh vex magic is fun to talk about. so.

cub stated that vex magic it’s inherently powerful, as it’s stronger the more you believe in it. it’s pure, raw energy that only chosen ones can control and manipulate to their will (e.g. convex).

scar and cub’s wings are illusions (unless they need to fly obviously) but if you try to touch them you will quite literally get electrocuted. they can phase through walls and can turn into actual vexes (tiny little guys <3). they have cold blood, which is blue, fangs, claws and their skin has a kind of ashy undertone.

scar is more magically inclined than cub, but the latter makes it up in physical prowess and fighting skills, they perfectly balance each other in battle.

vex magic is addicting, it tastes sweet and scar and cub are naturally attracted to it. all shiny objects, especially diamonds and crystals, have a very similar taste to it so that’s why scar is so fond of eating them (cub eats them too but he does it when he thinks no one is looking). the same goes for cake of course.

vex magic also works like poison: they can influence their “preys” with it and basically paralyze and then kill them. it’s overall a very versatile magic that can be used for anything and everything if they try hard enough.

so yeahhh these are some of my major headcanons/views on my favorite little guys, feel free to ask about them though i’d love to talk about this more :)

[arc-misadventures]

For the kryptonian au since he’s part Superman has he ever encountered any kryptonite

A Pretty Rock

Jaune: Hi, Mom.

Kara: Hello, Jaune. Why did you call? You know we can just talk, and we can hear each other with our super hearing.

Jaune: I know, I just prefer looking at you when we talk, it feels better than this weird disembodied talking thing we do. Plus it doesn’t look weird.

Kara: Fair, that’s fair. So, how is school, meet any hot girls~?

Jaune: I won’t lie, there are a few.

Kara: Good, very good~!

Jaune: That’s all you’re gonna get on that front.

Kara: That’s good enough for me~! So, how are things going with your team?

Jaune: It’s going great! Well… Mostly great… Ren, is the brother I never had! He’s really great to be around, a but moody, but hey, who isn’t it? Pyrrha is a ray of sunshine, she’s been giving me help with all this stuff I need to learn about being a, Huntsman. She’s amazing~!

Kara: Is she now~?

Jaune: And, then there’s, Nora. Haaaa…

Kara: What’s wrong with, Nora?

Jaune: She’s developed a habit of finding shiny rocks, and throwing them at me.

Kara: What’s wrong with that?

Jaune: She’s either throwing, Dust shards she somehow manages to find. Or, a Kryptonite shards…

Kara: Oh, how did that go?

Jaune: Well…

~~~

Nora: Hey, Jaune! Look at the cool rock I found?

Jaune: What ro-AHCK?!

(Thud!)

Nora: Jaune…? Jaune?!

~~~

Kara: Green Kryptonite?

Jaune: Yep, she hit me square in the head. Knocked me out cold…

Kara: Ohhh…! That must have hurt…

Jaune: Yeah, she’s got one hell of a throwing arm…

Kara: Well, she was bound to find a green Kryptonite shard now, and then. You know how she’s like that.

Jaune: Yeah… Green shard…

Kara: What happened?

Jaune: Well…

~~~

Nora: Jaune, I made you this cool necklace with this pretty red rock!

Jaune: Red rock?! I don’t like red… rocks…

Nora: Tada~! Oh, don’t you look good~! Don’t you agree, Jaune? Jaune…?

Jaune: Hehe… Hey, Nora…?

Nora: Yeah?

Jaune: Didn’t you break my bed the other day…?

Nora: Yeah, sorry about that.

Jaune: Not yet you are.

Nora: Hmm?

~~~

Kara: Red Kryptonite?

Jaune: Yep…

Kara: Haa… What happened?

Jaune: Well… My month long detention is almost done…

Kara: Oh no…

~~~

Jaune: Bahahahaha! Burn you pathetic insects! Burn!

Ruby: He’s destroying the cafeteria with his laser vision!

Yang: AHHHH!!! He cut my hair?! My hair?!!!

Glynda: Why is he acting like this?!

Nora: Don’t worry! I’ve got this! Hey, Jaune!

Jaune: WHAT?!

Nora: Catch!

Jaune: Nice try, you’re not gonna… Gonna…? Uhh… Why is the cafeteria on fire?

~~~

Kara: Blue Kryptonite?

Jaune: Yeah…

Kara: Where does she find all of these?

Jaune: I don’t know, and I’m too scared to find out.

Kara: But she hasn’t found any other types of Kryptonite has she?

Jaune: No, no she did…

Kara: What did she find?

~~~

Jaune: It’s, Nora’s fault not mine! Red Kryptonite makes me evil!

Yang: But, you cut my hair, you bastard!

Jaune: Okay, I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…

Nora: Catch, Jaune!

Jaune: Don’t you dare?! Wait… Pink Kryptonite?! Ohh…

A brilliant shining light envelopes, Jaune as he turned into what some thought was a far more appealing form.

Jaune: Fuck…

Nora: Wow! You turned into a girl!

Jaune: I hate it when this happens… At least, my clothes changed to fit this body… But, gods I don’t have a bra! These things are at least are a, Double H! My back is going to kill me!

Nora: But, your smoking hot! Right guys! Guys?

Five red faces, and five noses bleeding. Jaune couldn’t help, but watch as his friends lost their minds. Jaune, couldn’t help, but sigh as he did it again.

Jaune: Haaa… Not this shit again…

~~~

Jaune: It wore off, but yeah, I hate it when that happens.

Kara: But, I like it when, Jeanne shows up.

Jaune: I don’t. And, I made it sure to tell, Nora that.

Kara: Oh, and how did you do that?

Jaune: I told her to cool off…

Jaune tilts the camera to the side to show, Nora frozen in a broke of ice.

Kara: Uhh… Is that a good thing?

Jaune: Well, I would drop her from really, really high up, but she enjoyed the fall too much. So, yeah… This is the best option I’ve got.

Kara: Will she be okay?

Jaune: Well, this is the forth time I’ve done it to her before. So, she’ll be…

(Shatter!)

Nora: I’m free! Take this, Jaune!

Jaune: …

Jaune: Fineeee…

Kara: Hi, Jeanne, how are you?

Jaune: Haaa… Fuck.

[musingsofaperpetualdaydreamer]

The Tortured Poets Department: The Anthology first listen 🎧🪻✨

More than 15 years later wow it still feels so magical to listen to a brand new album. The joy, the excitement, the nervousness. I mark chapters of my life with her albums, they always seem to arrive with perfect timing. Is it fate or delusion? Probably the later, obviously she has no idea who I am. Idk it feels nice to delude myself now and again that we’re all journeying through this time together in some connectedness (is that a word?). It feels sort of nostalgic in some ways, from being just a child to now an adult, it’s like Sesame Street that grows up with you. Not a great analogy but what I mean to say is it holds a special place to me.

This album, this anthology feels much like we’ve been handed her diary, filled with sticky notes bound together, it’s so raw but so expertly crafted, messy feelings but the penmanship is exquisite. From her debut album, it’s always been poetry. She transports you to her world. What a journey, what a joy, what a gift.

I like to capture my first thoughts of each song in my silly chicken scratching written notes. Most of it makes no sense. It feels like a nice silly tradition and it’s fun to look back on. So here goes:

Fortnight

- It’s giving moody 1989??? Excuse me miss?!!! Ohhh she knows. Preach bye time to cry

The tortured poets department

- Ooooh we’re in an 80s dreamscape. Yes yes yes. Who’s gonna love you but me? A fluffy dreamland Patty smith? Insert wait I understood the reference meme. Ooooh it’s lovely. I am sad

My boy only breaks his favourite toys

- excuse me?? I’m shattered byyyyyeee. I’ll tell you that he runs because he loves me?? You should’ve see him when he first saw me? Once I fix me he’s gonna miss me??? Ladies and gents welcome to afternoon tea on the menu SCALDING hot queen’s special. Maybe I’m a crumpled up paper on the floor. Maybe I am no more.

Down Bad

- well damn she’s said the quiet parts out loud again. Oh smokes time to dissapear into this galaxy smoky cloud of night. One of us. One of us. One of us.

So long London

- literally standing by the river in the rain. May as well cry my damn eyes out . Darn it blondie. Poetic destruction. Crying my eyes out by the water like I’m in made in Chelsea. Darn.

But daddy I love him

- a folklore ode? Little house on the prairie Princess revolution. Serve it up serve it up I’m ready to be stuffed like a winter pig. A grown up love story. It’s ridiculous and maybe wise eyes know too well it’s chockablock of red flags but darn I’m a cheesin’ this is so cute.

Fresh out the slammer

- oh it’s like August but dark. August dark afternoon blistering hot and the storm is about to come.

Florida!!! Ft Florence and the machine

-ExXUSE MEEEEEEEeE?????!?!!?teee heee heee heeee. Your home’s really only a town you’re a guest in??? Sorry can’t speak my jaw has shattered. Pls pls. Palm tree pls.

Guilty as sin?

- A false God dreamy haze confessional? With sprinkle of Gold Rush??? I am a melted.

Who’s afraid of little old me?

- The who’s who of who’s that is poised for the attack? But my bare hands paved their path, you don’t get to tell me what’s sad? - I AM CHOKED. Silenced mute. Ohhhh miss blondie is on BUSINESS. TELL THEM SWEETIE. Oh my heart 💔

I can fix him (No really I can).

- Oooh moody blues preaching with generous dash of delusion? Ah yes my routine favourite beverage. I am drinking this up like air. Drunk on false hope? One of us. One of us. One of us.

Loml

- You Holy Ghost you told me I’m the love of your life. Oh no I’m crying again. Back to crumpled paper rocking back and forth on the floor in a ball it is. It’s so pretty yet, shattering. Devastating. I wish I could unrecall how we almost had it all. Dancing phantoms on the terrace, are they second hand embarrassed that I can’t get out of bed ‘cause something counterfit is dead? Yep that’ll do it.

I can do it with a broken heart?

- Oh damn. Honey nooooo. Oh myyyy. Oh I’m in this picture and I don’t like it. It’s so artfully done, so upbeat and Poppy yet so hauntingly sad. Yes that’s the point but it’s sooo well done. Oh sweetie. I can’t stop laughing it’s not funny, it’s just you too pumpkin. I wanna hug her and tell her it’ll be fine. Ok ok.

The smallest man who ever lived

- Oh I’m speechless. And I don’t even want you back, I just want to know, if rusting my sparkling summer was the goal. The bridge? Excuse me while I sink to the bottom of the darkest ocean.

The alchemy

- Oooh it’s so cute and dreamy. I’m beaming you can hear her smile when she sings.

Clara bow

- Oooh it’s the lucky one grown up. The bridge is a masterpiece. It’s hell on earth to be heavenly, thems the breaks it don’t come gently. She knows she’s a star, The never ending cyclical wheel of stardom, even the shiniest, ends with a new star born in its shadow.

The black dog

- Oh No no no I Am 1 billion percent destroyed. Byeeeee

Imgonnagetyouback

- Oooh blondie is on the prowl and what can I do but bop like the well stuffed clown I am. Insert meme of cat bopping their head.

The albatross

- Banjo? Haunting country cautionary tale? - scathing review of one’s reputation, worst traits but underneath it all is just vulnerability. Caged for ‘monstrosity’ but being so vulnerable and just wanting to be freed loved. The ‘monster’ trying to protect the one they love from the things that will come for them too? Do they even realise it? Do they care? Wow it’s poetically beautiful.

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

- Oh it’s sad. If you wanna break my cold cold heart, just say I loved you the way that you were? Oh myyy. Replaying old moments, looking for clues wondering if it can all have a new ending? Wow.

How did it end?

- Wow the invasiveness of empathy of the innate curiosity of wanting to know, so you can something comforting, learn from it but you forget how it can be the worst part, having to offer up a ‘post mortem’ to all when you’ve barely even processed its ended yourself. The cyclical nature of it happening every time like it’s just a formal process we’ve come to accept even though it haunts us all. Ironically as we listen to this. Wow so beautifully done.

So high school

- I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you, and in a blink of a crinkling eye, I’m sinking, our fingers entertwined. Awww the sort of bubblegum silly feels you roll your eyes but you have the biggest smile on your face. It’s soo cute. You know how to call, I know Aristotle.

I hate it here

- Oooooh tell me something awful like you’re a poet trapped inside the body of a finance guy. One of us. One of us.

ThanK you aIMee

- Oh my goodness it’s grown up mean but she made it out. It’s so sad but I’m beaming. I say that’s my baby and I’m proud. Andrea? Oh thank you next. Not the kid. I’m cackling.

I look in people’s windows

- Oh it’s haunted death by a thousand cuts glimmering of desperate false hope. It’s lovely.

The prophecy

- Oh. Damn yep that’ll do it. Right in the ticker. Damn. It feels very much like am I doomed to always be the one before the one? Wow. Just yeah.

Cassandra

- I don’t know why but this makes think of safe and sound. Like the woman that was there when everything burned around them. She’s telling her side. Everyone’s there to watch you burn, screaming your guilt but silent when they’re wrong? If that ain’t the truth miss. Oh wow. Shes beautifully captured such a dark chapter.

Peter

- Oh wow it’s beautiful. It’s like post cardigan and she’s all grown up. 'Cause love's never lost when perspective is earned. But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light. Oh wow it’s wow.

The Bolter

- Oh we must stop meeting like this but it always ends with a town car speeding. Wowowow. It feels like the time she fell through the ice, then came out alive. Oh my a BEAUTY.

Robin

- Oh it’s so pretty. It’s like never grow up, safe and sound and seven swirled together. Wow. It’s like she’s talking to her child but then also herself in the past and present, like from an older perspective? Ohhh it’s beautiful. Why does this make me think of coraline’s real mother watching her sleep? I wanna cry.

The manuscript

- Wow god it’s beautiful. Another time travel song. You keep revisiting past in your mind and you gain perspective and then you realise you aren’t that version of you that lived it anymore. You can feel it still, not as deeply perhaps but you’re disconnected from thinking the way you did at that time or after. Is sobering and haunting. The healing. Wow wow wow.

@taylorswift thank you my love 💕

[carrickbender]

SATURDAY SIX

- So my BFF's brother in law's cousin is on the Tampa Bay Devil Rays(like the real squad, not one of their farm teams!), whose 13-0 start turned into 13-1 start thanks to 'my team', the Toronto Blue Jays, last night. I told my BFF, who is a Mariners fan, that Toronto just "24 Elsinore'd" their asses and I think that reference should be a thing, damn it! (Please tell me yall kinda get it... please?)

-Anyhow, I got my yellow belt cert from CWU yesterday in Lean, and we are well on our way for our green belts. I'm sure some of you have more experience, but this is an interesting process and as it turns out, is in demand. And as the dude put it...

-Also as it turns out, there's a rainbow bus in Henry's Richard Scarry book. I'm sure Ron DeSantis and Charlie Kirk are gonna get all fired up about it sooner or later. I mean, while all the other intentional cruelty for crueltys sake and being general miserable human beings is low hangingfruit for them, they have to save something for desert.

- ohhh, and speaking of fruit and ACTUAL desert, H's culinary adventures in deliciousness are stinking up the house once again: banana-apple bread. I can eat a few crumbs, but the smell is absolutely lovely.

- Living in a wet climate means doing your first mow of the lawn as late as possible and whenever it isn't raining, and that was yesterday. My weed whacker fired up nicely, and the Honda lawnmower ran like a top. I somehow managed to mow over all of Cabo's "nitrogen bombs" without stepping in any...

AND the hummingbirds didn't declare war... which was nice, because they're sooooo territorial and moody. (I mean, it's not like we haven't sustained the ungrateful a-holes on liquid crack all winter!!!!). I'm regretting not giving the quince a serious haircut because its kinda a mess, but then again, it will be some of the first foods for the bees so it's not a big deal. Plus the migratory hummingbirds will be here soon so nature needs all the snacks.I mean, God forbid the flying spicy needles not get all of the foods!!!

Anyhow, if you've made it this far, thank you. And if you think about it, send a little good energy my way for the 2 jobs for which I just applied. Great company, management, and they're definite prospects. There are lots of other folks who need the good energy of the universe, but if there's a little left, a new breeze in my sails would be welcomed.

You are all lovely and wonderful, and much love!

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

shhhh don't tell anyone my americanized name for the mini music playlist game ;)

TARYN

ohhh i will be very discreet my darling, muah!

t - tennessee whiskey by chris stapleton

a - ashes of eden by breaking benjamin

r - running with the wolves by aurora

y - yellow by coldplay

n - nights in white satin by the moody blues

send me your name and i'll make a mini playlist

[hacked-by-jake]

dark nights with bright sides, spent in white satin with you as my companion 😏🧹😌

Ohhh, same my lovely, lovely Jules. 'Cause I love you. Yes I love you. Oh, how I love you! And never forget: Just what you want to be, you will be in the end. 😌💚

Thank you for sending in, my queen! I really appreciate it. And it's always a pleasure to talk about our (:P) song 💚

-> if you want your followers to tell you something that reminds them of you, anonymously or not!

[emblemxeno]

So translations confirmed Zephia of the Four Hounds is a dragon as well(demon dragon). So it really seems red + blue are colors signifying dragons. Griss is a Japanese delinquent and basically Hubert. Marni is cheerful and moody, and Mauvier(armored knight) is…an honorable and noble knight.

Ohhh, neat!! I remember Mauvier in those leak pics too, I wonder if he'll be like... a Duessel if the game says he's honorable.

And dragon tribes are fucking cool

[ticklishfiend]

Angry Little Guy

My Hero Acadameia - Kirishima/Bakugou

A/N: heyyy haven’t written in a hot minute (again lmao)!! my mental health has been taking a tolls recently so writing has been hard, but i still hope y’all enjoy what i wrote today!! i love these boys sm and i hope to write some more for them in the future :) hope u enjoy!! xx

Summary: After Ms. Joke visits the school and forces Bakugou to laugh after he was being a grumpy-butt in class, Kirishima can’t help that he just wants to hear that cute little laugh again. But when Bakugou refuises to laugh any other way, Kirishima decides to use some...persuasive methods :))

Word Count - 2,550

—

Today was a physical training day for Class 1A, all the students gathering in the training gym in their matching blue and red outfits ready for whatever task Aizawa had prepared for them that day. Aizawa’s demeanor today, however, was just a little…off. Sure, he was being hs regular boring, monotonous self, but something about the way his eyes seemed to sink deeper into their sockets, and the way his back seemed somehow more slouched than usual, showed that the class’s teacher was a little more annoyed today than he already was regularly.

“Does Aizawa-Sensei seem more…upset than usual?” Kirishima scratched his neck worriedly, heck cocked as he watched Aizawa pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know, man, the guy’s never exactly been the bubbly type. Maybe he just got less sleep than normal,” Denki shrugged, his eyes also meeting the groggy teacher stood in front of their whole class. “What do you think, Bakugou? Think Aizawa woke up on the wrong side of the bed or what?”

“Shut the fuck up, Sparkplug, he’s about to start class,” Bakugou grumbled, not even glancing down at his bright blonde counterpart for a second.

“Okay everyone, it’s time to shut up,” Aizawa spoke loudly, his eyes tense as he stared the teens in front of him down. The mumbles in the room went silent as Aizawa began his lesson. “Today’s gonna be a little…different. Despite my pleas against this, you’ll be taught your training by a different pro-hero today from Ketsubutu High.”

Muffled whispers slowly rose up from the crowd of teens before Aizawa, mumbling predictions of who the hell could be teaching them today and why it wasn’t someone already from their school. Of course, as always, Iida’s hand was the first to shoot up and question this strange decision.

“Aizawl-Sensei, why are we being taught by a teacher from another school? Why not use any of the many teachers we have available at UA?”

“Unfortunately, Nezu believes it would be best for you all to not only be trained by the same heroes, as you need to widen your options for training techniques, especially considering many of you need to learn better techniques of distraction. Which is exactly why they’ve brought in-“

“Helloooo~!” The gym doors behind the students’ burst open, a female figure standing in the doorway with her hands on his hips and a bright, wide smile imprinted on her face.

“Oh no way!” Sero pointed excitedly towards the woman. “It’s Ms. Joke!”

“That’s right, future pro-heroes!” Ms. Joke began making her way over toward Aizawa, his glare on her intensifying with every step she got closer.

“Ohhh, now I get why he’s been so moody all morning,” Kiri whispered to Denki, the two sharing a knowing glance as they both grinned.

“Joke, why are you so late? You were supposed to be here an hour ago so we could discuss-“

“Oh cmon, Eraser, don’t be so serious! Just got caught up in a little morning traffic is all, plus spreading a few smiles along the way!” Joke grinned widely at the stoic man beside her. “Y’know, I’m always happy to spread a few more smiles as long as they’re coming from your cute little face-“

“That’s enough, Joke. Please get on with the lesson,” Aizawa rolled his eyes, refusing to look over at his extremely smiley counterpart.

“Whatever you say, future husband!”

“Not your future husband-“

“Okay guys! So who here knows about my quirk and can explain it properly to the rest of the class?” Joke asked, followed by multiple hands shooting up into the air, Deku’s even waving about excitedly (as this IS his favorite thing in the world to discuss).

“Hmm…how about…you! Mr. Grumpy in the front!” Joke exclaimed, pointing towards Bakugou. His arms were crossed in contempt, eyes glaring into Joke’s happy persona like his gaze alone could burn right through it.

“I didn’t even raise my hand,” Bakugou scowled at his higher-up, his stance never wavering. “How do you know I have any idea who you are?”

Ms. Joke smirked at Katsuki. “Y’know, teachers talk, Bakugou,” the mention of his name made his eyes grow a little wide in surprise, not expecting her to know him by name. “Sure, I know you from the sports festival, but I also know you from a little more than that. I know that you’re an angry little guy who doesn’t like not being at the top, and you find satisfaction in knowing more than your peers. I also know you’re very smart, and you’re well educated on the status of most- if not all- pro-heroes today.  So, I’ll ask again; can you please explain to the class what my quirk is and how it functions?”

A silent but stressed pause fell over the group of teens. None of them had expected Joke to get so analytical on Bakugou like that, and it made them all feel a little fearful of what the “angry little guy” had to say next to her next. Bakugou’s glare on the woman deepened, his brow furrowing slightly.

“You can make people laugh uncontrollably, basically making it easier for you to fight them with one-on-one combat. And if you want me to be honest,” Bakugou’s face contorted into an ugly smirk, his arms crossing tighter as his body leaned in ever so slightly towards the hero. “-it’s one of the lamest quirks I’ve ever seen from a pro-hero.”

The air in the room was suddenly 10x thicker than before, almost making it harder for the students to catch a healthy breath. Ms. Joke only smiled fondly at the teen before her, walking closer to him until they were face-to-face.

“Y’know Bakugou…ever since I saw you perform at the sports festival, seeing you so red-faced and angry the whole time, I couldn’t help but wonder…” Joke’s hands went to her hips as Bakugou’s smirk slowly began to fade. “…does that guy ever really laugh?”

Suddenly and without warning, Bakugou began belting out one of the screechiest laughs anyone in that gym had ever heard in their lives. His arms came down to his stomach, harshly crushing his abdomen as if this would cease the laughs at any capacity. After a second, one of his hands shot towards his mouth, after he must’ve finally realized how embarrassingly girly his laugh must’ve sounded.

“Oh my god, no way! Bakugou can laugh!” Denki shouted, pointing at the hysterical boy in front of him. The rest of the class erupted into giggles, unable to contain it after hearing that contagious laugh leave that angry little man.

“SHUHUHUT UHUP! THIS ISN’T FAHAHAHAIR!” Bakugou’s screams were muffled behind his hand, but it did nothing to mask the laughs coming out of the boy.

“So, is anyone who didn’t know about my quirk starting to get how it works?” Joke giggled, Bakugou now crumbling to the floor on his knees without even meaning to. After another moment, his laughs began to die down to soft titters, before standing back up on shaky legs. To his dismay, his face was flushed an adorable shade of pink, and though everyone noticed it, no one dared to make a comment. His eyes made their way to Joke’s, an angry flash of light glaring from them.

“YOU MADE YOUR POINT YET, HAG?!” Bakugou shouted, his hands in a combat position by his sides, making small explosions not big enough to hurt a fly from his palms.

“Yes, actually. I think we’re ready to move on to the lesson at hand!”

-

“Man, I still feel sore after training today. Who knew Ms. Joke could be so ruthless at hand to hand combat!” Kirishima exclaimed, massaging his shoulder before turning back to his homework in his lap. He was sat crisscross on Bakugou’s bed, with said explosive teen leaning against the wall behind him also working on his homework.

“Whatever, Shitty-hair, it wasn’t that bad,” Bakugou rolled his eyes, earning him a shove on the knee from the red haired teen beside him.

“You’re just mad she had you laughing like a little girl in front of the class and you KNOW it!” Kiri chuckled.

“Hell yeah I’m mad, I’m fucking pissed! That hag had no right to do that, it made me look like a fucking idiot!” Bakugou grumbled throwing his head back and hitting the wall with a thud.

“Oh cmon, it wasn’t that bad, it was adorable! You should totally laugh like that more often, Bakubro. I know I’d sure love to hear it,” Kiri giggled, looking up at Bakugou, noting the small tinge of crimson painting his cheeks. He decided to be nice and not say anything, just like he had been at training.

“I’m not adorable, fuckface, and after that whole stunt I don’t think I’ll ever laugh again.”

“Bakubro, you know I can’t have that! I’ve gotta get my dose of Kats giggles every once and awhile, even if I have to pull em outta ya!” Kiri snickered, playfully shoving Bakugou in the shoulder. “In fact, I wanna hear you laugh right now! Cmon, gimme them giggles!”

Bakugou just looked up at Kirishima with the most blank expression he could possibly pull. Kirishima pouted, grabbing his and the other boy’s homework and moving it to the other side of the bed.

“Shitty-hair, I was working on that-!”

“Ah ah ah, Bakubro, you can get right back to your work as soon as I hear that laugh of yours that I heard earlier today!” Kirishima moved to sit cross-legged in front of Bakugou, giving him the dopiest smile he could pull in hopes to get the boy to giggle even a little.

Nothing.

“Kiri, I can’t just laugh on command. You’ve gotta do something funny, and you’re not a funny fucking person,” Bakugou’s expression remained partially blank, but Kirishima could spot that hint of mischievousness behind his eyes that got him all worked up and playful.

“Hmm…well, while I might disagree with you on that, it’s really hard to make you laugh. And trust me, I know that from experience,” Kirishima brought his hand up to scratch at his chin, looking Bakugou in the eyes experimentally. Then, a lightbulb went off over Kiri’s head.

“Hey, Bakugou?”

“Um…yes?”

“Are you ticklish?” Bakugou remained unwavered, but Kirishima could tell that question made the blood boy uneasy.

“No. Can I get back to my work now, Shitty-hair?”

“I already told you, we aren’t working until I hear you laugh. And, I don’t believe you.”

“Well you should, because I’m not.”

“Then can I?” Bakugou furrowed his brows confusedly at the question.

“Can you what?” Bakugou asked, his head leaning back in confusion.

“Can I tickle you? Y’know, since you aren’t ticklish.”

“No, that’s a stupid question, why would you tickle someone who isn’t-“ suddenly, Bakugou’s words halted as Kirishima grabbed the boy by his shoulders and turned him to push his back onto the bed. He sat down on the boys waist, pinning his hands beneath his knees, effectively trapping them. “WHAT THE HELL, SHITTY-HAIR?!”

“What? You said you aren’t ticklish, so this-“ Kirishima pulled Bakugou’s shirt up just above his lower ribs, before lightly and slowly tracing shapes into the boys sides. “-shouldn’t bother you at all.”

Bakugou’s entire body was as stiff as a board, his eyes shut tight and his mouth shut even tighter. His teeth grinder against one another and titter after titter left his lips against his mind’s wishes.

“Kiri- I- Stop- hehe-wait, just hold on a minutehehe-“ Bakugou giggled lightly, his hands struggling beneath Kiri’s knees. Then, Kirishima began digging his fingers into his ribs, and that’s when all hell broke loose for the explosive boy beneath him.

“WAHRHEIT! STOHOHOHOP! NOT FAIR! NOT FAHAHAHAIR!” Bakugou twisted and turned his body, but to absolutely no avail. Kirishima was massaging circles into Bakugou’s lower ribs, and the hysterical boy under him just couldn’t take it. “See? Now THIS is what I wanted to hear, Bakubro!” Kirishima moved his right hand down to skitter his nails on the boy's lower belly, resulting in high pitched squealy giggles to leave the Bakugou's lips. "Aw, you're so ticklish! I never expected this from you, it's so cute!" Kirishima cooed, only making Bakugou's laughs to grow more frantic and panicked.

"NOHOHO! NOHOHOT CUHUHUTE! NOT CUHUHUHU- AHAHAHA!" The boy's words trailed off into even more giggles as Kirishima brought his left hand down to sueeze at his hips. "NOHOHOT THEHERE! PLEASE! I CAHAHAHANT!"

"Aww, is this a bad spot, Bakugou?~ Is it really ticklish right there?~" Kirishima teased, now moving both hands down to sueeze and spider over his hips, which proved to be one of his worst spots so far.

"YEHEHES! TIHIHICKLES!" Bakugou screamed, his legs kicking out frantically behind Kiri as the red-head experimentally moved his fingers upwards and dipped into his bellybutton.

Bakugou let out the most high pitched scream Kirishima had ever heard.

"Oh my god, dude! Is it that bad here?" Kirishima used one nail to scratch at the inside walls of the navel, while another finger skittered around the entire button.

"BAHAHAHAD! SO BAHAHAD! PLEHEHEASE!" Bakugou whined, small prickles of tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"Alright, alright, i'll quit. But-" Kirishima halted momentarily, his nails resting on Bakugou's lower tummy without moving. Even with the lack of movement, Bakugou couldn't help the small giggles that left his lips, his childish giggle box already turned on it's head, making those unmoving nails feel like their skittering all over his tummy. "-first you have to admit that your laugh is adorable."

Bakugou's eyes widened. "What?! Are you crazy?! I'm not gonna say something like th-hehehe!" Kirishima slowly began skittering over his lower tummy again, his fingers slowly but surely getting closer and closer towards his navel.

"Bakugou, you are way too ticklish to just not comply with me right now. Just say what I want and I'll let you go," Kirishima smiled, bringing one hand up to skitter at his lower ribs, resulting in a surprise shriek and louder giggles from the boy. "Unless...you don't want me to stop?"

Bakugou's entire face turned beet red, and this time Kirishima just couldn't help himself. "Aw, Bakugou~! Y'know, you're way more of a blusher than you'd like to admit, but that's just another thing that makes you intesnely adorable. So say it! Say you're adorbale!"

"Nohoho! I cahaha- Kiri plehehease! Don't make mehehe!" Bakugou whined, twisting his body as if trying to escape the unstoppable fingers on his torso.

"Cmon Kats~ Just say those two magic little words~"

"Alrihihight!" Bakugou shut his eyes tight, turning his face as much as he could to try and smush his words into the mattress. "I'm...I'm adorablehehe..."

Kirishima finally halted his fingers and moved them off the boy's body, but still not getting up off of his waist. "See? Was it that hard?"

"Yes!" Bakugou whined, finally pulling his hands out from under Kirishima's legs after the red-head gave him some leverage to, shoving them into his face to mask the ever-growing blush and smile emerging.

"You're too cute for me, Kats. I don't think I can handle it," Kirishima smiled fondly at the boy underneath him, his heart swelling in his chest unbeknownst to that angry little giggly guy.

-

A/N: i hope u enjoyed!! i just love lee!bakugou so i rlly couldn’t help myself LMAOO he’s so cute wtf :(( anyways, if u enjoyed this pls consider liking and reblogging!! reblogging is much more appreciated as it helps spread my fic to more ppl :)) love u!! xx

[charlottan]

Ahhhh becomes entranced with rabid music love again. Only now it's aimless but ohhh man I need to listen to someone's music with so much love...... I mean right now I'm listening to the pretty things and I love their music.......but also it makes me want to go back and listen to the Moody blues again. I love 60s twee British psych prog!!!!!! Aaahhhhhhhahahahahahhhhhhhh man

[katatty]

2, 29, and 43 for local menace Wisteria and 33, 49, and 56 for Abigail (my beloved), please!

2. Do you think you would get along with your oc if you could meet them? What things would you talk about?

Honestly, no way! Wisteria would be an entertaining person to know but I'm sure she'd annoy the crap out of me xD I could see us having some conversations about arts and crafts type stuff, maybe?

29. If a perfume was to be made to represent your oc, what sorts of smells would be included in it?

Ohhh, I'm not the best at scents, but I could see if being a very cloying, flowering smell? But with a little bit of wet paint mixed in, haha. Maybe some "spicy" undertone like jasmine or francinsense.

43. How important are the rules to your oc? Do they follow them to a t, or do they enjoy breaking them?

Wisteria is very lawful, honestly! Her rule-breaking has only happened with matters of the heart, and was very distressing even to her, haha. A more formally polyamrous nature suits her really well, she loves talking about rules and boundaries etc. She's not always the best at picking up on more "unspoken" rules, though...

For Abigail

33. What five objects or things could be expected to be found on your oc’s person at any time? Why?

Painkillers, band aids (because she's a nurse at heart and always has basic first-aid stuff), some cat treats, probably a book to read, and a locket with her daughters' pictures inside

49. What would be the perfect gift for your oc? What would be their reaction to receiving it?

Abigail is an absolute romantic at heart, so anything well-thought out and sentimental she would love. Or anything handmade! Maybe a book she'd been talking about wanting to read, with a sappy love message written inside (she's not against writing in books - she thinks it gives them more character)

56. What is your oc’s favourite colour? If you had to choose one colour to represent your oc, what would it be and why?

I associate her with purples, dark greens and dark blues. A kinda moody, cool colour pallette. I think her favourite colour is purple, but I think dark blue represents her the best - it has that melancholy but soothing sort of vibe, at least to me

[mynameseri]

B2 for Abbacchio pls 💜

Ohhh Mr Moody Blues why are you crrrryying 😩

I hope you like it 😍❤️

[artificialqueens]

Tree House Kisses, Chapter 36 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Brand new content! Thank you so much to anyone following this reposting. We’re now caught up, and the idea is to post about a chapter a month until we’re done with the story. (Fingers crossed.) Please let us know if you have any requests! 

Click here for previous chapters, or here to read on AO3. XOXO!

Chapter Summary: After the Spring musical forces Courtney and Adore back into each other's lives, Adore gets advice from a very unlikely source.

Chapter 36: Something Good

It was about 2 weeks into play practice for The Sound of Music when Courtney discovered her favorite place in school to make out with Roy: the backstage dressing rooms. She was sitting perched on the counter, Roy’s mouth trailing down her neck. Her hands moved to his waist, tugging on his fly.

Roy groaned slightly, then glanced around the dressing room, asking, “Aren’t you worried that someone might walk in?”

“Isn’t that part of the fun?” she replied with a wicked smile.

He grinned back, dimples deep in his cheeks, shaking his head. Now that the musical had begun, he was relieved, in a way, that there was finally an after-school activity that they could do together. Ever since she’d quit cheer in the Fall, it seemed to Roy that Courtney had been floundering. She wasn’t involved with any sports or clubs. He knew that a big part of it had to do with Adore. She was obviously still feeling depressed about their fractured friendship, which was understandable.

And Roy was happy to fill in the gaps, in theory. But as much as he loved Courtney, he worried that maybe she was putting too much pressure on their relationship. After all, he was just one person. One busy person. So the play gave them a chance to spend time together with more of a purpose. And even better, forced her to socialize with people besides him.

“It’s also slightly terrifying…” he said, gesturing to the door.

Courtney giggled, popping open the button and unzipping him slowly, lips brushing against his, tongue teasing. Roy knew that he shouldn’t let things go this far in public, at school. That this was just part of their game--the one where she was always pushing the envelope and he was responsible for setting the boundaries. But he was only human. Sometimes he didn’t want to be the one to stop things. Sometimes, he just wanted to enjoy himself.

“Fuck…” Roy’s fingers dug into her waist as her hands reached into his pants, heart pounding in his throat.

“Hey-oh dear god!” Jinkx stood in the doorway, a hand covering her eyes. “Uh, Leisl...we need you onstage…we’re about to work on Our Favorite Things.”

“Okay!” Courtney chirped, sliding off the counter, buttoning her top and giving Roy a chaste peck on the cheek.

“And uh…please take care of that...gross situation...” Jinkx made a vague gesture towards Roy’s crotch. “...before you come onstage?”

“Shit, sorry.”

“Good luck, Daddy,” Courtney sang, tossing Roy a kiss as she sailed out the door, leaving him reeling and dizzy.

-

The worst part about having to see Courtney all the time, for Adore, was how visibly okay she was.

Adore knew she shouldn’t be watching them. But somehow, she couldn’t help her eyes from drifting in their direction at lunch. Watching Courtney lean back, her fingers pressing into the grass. Her head fell backwards, elongating her neck and catching Roy’s attention.

Roy stared at her for a few moments, probably as transfixed as Adore as the sun highlighted Courtney’s angelic features. Adore watched as Roy reached over, slipping his finger under the chain of her necklace before leaning over, placing a soft kiss on Courtney's shoulder. Her glossy pink lips stretched into a wide smile, basking in his attention.

Wishing that she hadn’t seen such a small act of affection, something similar to sadness washed over Adore. Adore knew that Courtney missed her, in theory. She knew that cutting her off had upset her. But she also knew that, ultimately, she was fine. And that was the really gut-wrenching part.

Because Adore was not fine. As much as she tried to pretend sometimes, the loss of her best friend was like an open, gaping wound. She never forgot. She never moved on. She just went through her days feeling numb at best, and miserable at worst, and usually somewhere in the middle.

She had other friends. And she loved them. But Courtney had always brought a special kind of light into her life that no one else could. And the really sad thing was that for a long time, Adore genuinely believed that she’d done the same thing for Courtney.

But it was clear whenever she glimpsed her giggling at play practice, or fooling around with Roy on the grass at lunch, or even just walking through the halls—her light was still there. Adore’s absence hadn’t dimmed it at all.

Adore hated to even admit to herself how much it hurt, but there it was. The raw truth.  

-

“Willam, stop!” Courtney tried to hold back her laughter and get him to focus on their choreography.

Willam was a clear example of how boys could get lead roles with two left feet, whereas she got scolded if she missed one step. They were trying to rehearse their dance during “16 Going On 17” and he was just not taking anything seriously. Partly because he’d been empowered by Mrs. Maguire to be a bit of a ham, when she told him, “I’m not saying you have to camp it up like Dan is doing, but don’t feel like you have to play him perfectly straight.”

Of course, Willam had taken that direction and ran with it, mincing about the stage and tossing imaginary hair. Still obviously a little bitter about getting passed over for the ‘Baroness in Drag’ role she’d given to Dan. In spite of everything though, Courtney was happy that they had so many scenes together. Yes, he could be a pain in the ass, but screwing around with him like two naughty children was just the perfect distraction for her.

Sometimes, as much as she loved Roy, the sympathy in his eyes when she got down was too much to bear. With Willam, there was none of that. They could laugh and have fun and be crazy and she never had to worry about him making her think about something deep. She never had to worry about him being tender or careful the way Roy was sometimes - the way even her mother had been since she’d confessed about her fight with Adore all those months ago. If she spaced out or got wistful, all Willam would do was punch her on the shoulder and tell her to stop being a moody cunt. It was refreshing and necessary.

“Okay, let’s try that again,” said Mrs. Maguire, gesturing for Thorgy to reset the music.

“Hey, Mrs. Maguire. I thought this scene would be kinkier. Weren’t Nazis really into like, BDSM and shit?”

Courtney let out a shrieking giggle, clapping her hand over her mouth.

“Willam, please try to focus on-”

“You’re thinking of Cabaret,” Jinkx answered from the front row, not even looking up from her script.

“Ohhh, bummer.”

“How about a spanking?” Courtney asked gleefully, bouncing around the stage on the balls of her feet. “I mean, he fully deserves it. Both Willam and Rolf.” She gave him a good smack on the ass to emphasize her point, spirits high, an almost manic gleam in her eye.

“Guys-” Mrs. Maguire was starting to look a bit irritated.

“Oh no, I’ve been a bad little Nazi,” Willam said, bending over, putting a finger in his mouth. Courtney giggled harder and slapped his ass again, harder this time.

“What in the actual FUCK?” Bob said, darting out from behind the wings.

Courtney and Willam both whirled around to face him.

“Guys. Please pay attention-” Mrs. Maguire began, but Bob cut her off.

“No, I’m sorry, are these two blonde, blue-eyed, devil fuckheads trivializing white supremacy right now?” he yelled. “Actually, no, worse, they are fucking fetishizing white supremacy. What the fuck?!”

Courtney’s eyes went wide in alarm.

“I’m sorry, Bob,” she said immediately, hitting Willam in the shoulder. This was all his fault, after all.

“Yeah, sorry,” he echoed, “But my character just really likes a spanking-”

“Bill!” Courtney exclaimed, hitting him again. “Bob, I really am sorry. That was dumb.”

“You’re damn right it was!” Bob said. “Now, I want you to apologize to everyone here! Including your Mexican boyfriend!” He pointed at Roy.

“I’m sor-”

“I’m not Mexican, Bob,” Roy called up from the audience.

“Stepping on my motherfucking point, Del Rio!” Bob yelled back.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean it that way,” Courtney said, heart pounding with embarrassment and fear. Bob hardly ever got angry like that. What if he stayed mad? What if she lost him? What if she lost April, too? Tears pricked at her eyes. Why was she so stupid? “That was insensitive; we won’t do it again, I-”

“Good!”

Bob began to march offstage, and Courtney swallowed, regret swirling in her chest, cheeks still hot with shame. What the fuck was wrong with her? Why did she let Willam rope her into that whole thing?

“Leisl! Rolf! Can we get back to your number?!” Mrs. Maguire asked.

“Yes, sorry!"

-

Courtney rang Bob’s doorbell and bit her lip, clutching the pink bakery box in her hands.

“Hey…” Bob opened the door, looking her up and down with a slightly confused expression. “What’s up?”

“Um...April said that the apple fritters from Hal’s Donuts are your favorite.” She held out the box, which he took from her skeptically.

“They are…but why?”

“I just felt bad. About the thing with Willam earlier.” Courtney shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh.” Bob sighed. “Well, you should. I mean...I think it’s okay that you feel bad.”

Courtney nodded, swallowing down a lump in her throat.

“I wanted to tell you that I really care about you, and I’m sorry, and if I can make it better-”

“Court, this isn’t about me and you. You know? It’s just like...sometimes it’s really exhausting how much racism and bigotry is just everywhere, all the time, even in a stupid school musical,” Bob said.  

“Yeah. I get it. I mean...I think I get it.”

Bob smiled ruefully, holding up the box. “But I do appreciate the reparations.”

“Anytime,” Courtney said, grinning back at him.

“Just want to make sure...you’re not hitting on me right now, are you?”

“No!” Courtney glared at him. “Come on!”

“Okay, okay, just checking,” he laughed.

-

Adore sat in the back of the theatre, trying to get some of her most annoying homework done while the Von Trapp children rehearsed “So Long, Farewell” onstage.

“I’d like to stay, and taste my first champagne-”

“Courtney!” Mrs. Maguire cut in. “Can you please do the champagne line in a less sexual way? Remember that he’s your dad in this show, not your boyfriend.”

“But I love my Daddy,” Courtney simpered, fluttering her lashes and making the other Von Trapp children titter with laughter.

“Stop it,” Roy said, trying to suppress his grin.

“Courtney, look at it this way. It would be a real problem if Captain Von Trapp got a boner on stage. Especially while his kids are singing,” explained Mrs. Maguire, increasing the giggling from the peanut gallery.

“Yeah, a real problem!” Roy echoed.

“Sorry Daddy!” Courtney sang, skipping back to her place in line.

“Dude…” Bob’s voice carried further than he intended through the theatre, catching Adore’s attention as he thumped Jamin on the shoulder. “Did you see that?”

Adore tilted her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as if she actually needed any help hearing Bob. He was only a few rows away, and even though he seemed to think he was being quiet, his big mouth was 100% audible to anyone in the vicinity.

“Courtney? Is a total fucking nympho,” Bob continued.  

“A nympho?!” Jamin repeated, tossing his head back to let out a loud cackle, earning a few looks, but ultimately ignored.

“No, really?” Thorgy gasped at the idea, blinking at Bob in disbelief through thick glasses.

“Yeah, I’m telling you!” Bob insisted, snickering. “Roy says that she used to be kind of a prude, but now she cannot get enough. She just wants his dick like, all the time. Everywhere. I think he used the word ‘insatiable.’”

“Attagirl!” Willam said.

Anger started to find its way into Adore’s veins; the natural instinct to defend and protect Courtney regardless of them not being on good terms poked at Adore like a hot spike.

“Poor guy, he’s exhausted,” Bob said, laughing some more, and Adore slammed her binder shut, immediately grabbing her stuff and racing outside.

Something about that conversation made her feel embarrassed and angry, almost vengefully so. How dare they talk about Courtney that way? Sure, she had her faults, but hearing them laugh about her was so vile, so utterly boy. So wrong. And Adore knew exactly who to blame.

-

The sound was a cross between a thump and a click, and it caused Roy to look up from his desk, confused. It was after the second one when he realized that something was hitting his window. He crossed the bedroom and lifted it, surprised to see Adore standing there, several pinecones in her hands, about to hurl another one.

“Uh...hi?”

“Come outside!” she demanded.

“Why didn’t you just use the doorbell like a normal person?” Roy asked.

“Why don’t you stop asking pussy-ass questions and get out here?”

Roy rolled his eyes. Obviously, she was in some kind of mood. (What else was new?) He decided to follow the path of least resistance and just do what she wanted.

“I’ll be right down.”

She was pacing around the driveway when he stepped outside, practically wearing a hole in the pavement.

“Hey. Are you alright? What’s-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Adore exploded. “Why are you such an asshole?”

“Uh…” Roy wasn’t sure what this tantrum was about, so he decided to diffuse the situation with some humor. “Well...my parents are both assholes...and then they fucked, and…” He held up his hands as if to say ‘Ta da!’

“That is so not funny,” she said, turning on her heel and sitting down on the curb.

“Listen. I’m sure I deserve all this wrath, but I don’t actually know where it’s coming from. Care to enlighten me?” He walked over and sat down beside her. Just far enough that he’d have time to run away if she took a swing at him. Which wasn’t entirely out of the question.

Adore groaned before speaking.

“Bob is going around talking about how...how you told him that Courtney used to be a prude but now she’s a nymphowho can’t get enough of your stupid dick. It’s gross.”

Roy began to laugh, and only stopped when he saw the expression on Adore’s face grow even angrier, cheeks darkening.

“I...Adore, come on. I never said that.”

“Well, Bob says you did!”

“Well, Bob makes up a lot of shit! Who believes Bob?! And who knows why he said it?” Roy said, suppressing another laugh. He knew why, if he was honest. He’d been telling his friend about how extra needy Courtney had been lately, and he may have left out the part about how sad she was and exaggerated the sex part...just a little bit. That was harmless, right?

“People believed him!” Adore insisted, tears pricking her eyes. “And you need to put an end to it, or you’re just as guilty as him! If you really cared about her, you wouldn’t want people saying that shit.”

“I don’t really think Courtney would be-” Roy paused mid-sentence, remembering who he was talking to. Who the hell was Adore Delano to lecture him about this? If he really cared? He had given her the benefit of the doubt, seeing how upset she was, but now he was pissed. “Why do you care, anyway?” he asked. “You’re not even friends with her anymore.”

Adore’s face crumbled, tears filling her eyes, a hand covering her mouth. Roy suddenly felt overwhelmingly, unjustifiably guilty.

“Hey...come on…” he began, and then reached out to give her an awkward hug. “It’s...it’s all gonna be okay.”

“It won’t,” Adore sobbed.

“Sure it will,” he insisted.

“I didn't mean-“ Adore hiccupped, “-for it to go on...so long.”

“Okay so...end it. You’re the only one who can.”

“But what am I supposed to say? How will I explain?” Adore buried her face in her hands, Roy’s own hands hesitantly patting her back.

“It doesn’t matter what you say, Dory. She won’t give a shit,” Roy sighed. Was he really going to be the one to fix this friendship, after everything that happened? Apparently, yes. What a chump. “She really misses you, you know. She still wears that stupid bracelet every day.”

“I know,” Adore said, voice breaking.

“And she still...you know, she thinks that any day, you’re just gonna magically be friends again. You know how many times she’s said like…‘Roy, she’s not gonna possibly be mad at me on Halloween...She can’t hate me on Christmas...Roy, it’s my birthday, she’s gonna call me.’”

Adore closed her eyes, gulping for breath, too upset even to make fun of Roy’s terrible impression--he sounded more like a low-rent Marilyn Monroe impersonator than Courtney.

“Are you trying to make me feel worse?”

“No, I’m trying to say...whenever you decide that enough is enough...she’ll be ready. She won’t care. She won’t need an explanation. She’ll just be...so happy.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Roy looked at her curiously, wondering if she knew how much he knew.

“Why wouldn’t I tell you? It’s the truth.”

“Yeah but…” Adore sniffled, wiping her face on her flannel shirt. “I know you hate me. I figured you’d be happy to be rid of me.”

“I don’t hate you. You hate me,” Roy explained slowly.

“I do not. I just...you know, you’re like that one obnoxious, know-it-all cousin that we all have.”

Roy frowned, brows furrowed.

“I don’t have a cousin like that.”

“Right, because you are that cousin, dork,” Adore laughed through her tears, shaking her head.

“Oh.” Roy paused, tilting his head. “Why do you think I hate you?”

Adore shrugged.

“I’ve never hated you. And...even if I did, I’d still want you to make up with Courtney, because I love her, and she loves you. And I want her to be happy.”

“What a hero,” Adore said, rolling her eyes.

“Look...I’ll tell Bob to knock it off with the nympho comments, okay?”

“Okay.” Adore sighed, wiping her eyes again. “Thanks.”

“Sure. You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah…” She swallowed, looking away, suddenly a little embarrassed about losing it and crying all over Roy, of all people. “Why do you have a basketball hoop, anyway? You're three feet tall and you suck at sports.”

“First of all. I'm 5’9” - a totally reasonable height. And second...it's Vanessa’s.”

Adore chuckled, looking back down at the ground. She knew what she had to do now, but she wasn’t sure how.

-

Pearl’s pencil moved in quick light strokes across the page, filling in the lines on a weed bouquet, with rolling paper for stems and nugs as petals. The cold frame of Violet’s bed continuously pressing into her back from Violet’s constant shifting above made it a less than comfortable position for her, but Pearl was content. Because honestly, no matter how sarcastic, bitchy or self-centered Violet could be, Pearl always jumped at the chance to hang with her; especially when it was just the two of them.

“Ugh, can you believe this. ‘Who Wore it Best?’” Pearl was suddenly engulfed in the aroma of lemon and berries as her sketchbook was replaced with a magazine and Violet’s long dark hair brushed against her face, tickling her nose.

“I mean obviously, none of them. That dress is sooo, fucking ugly.” Violet scoffed. “I mean, nothing. Nothing. Can save that dress. Those pumps on Jessica are really cute though.” Violet’s red fingernail dragged across the page.

She then snorted before the magazine disappeared and she shuffled back to her position on the bed, tucking a pillow under her chest to get comfortable again.

When it was just the two of them, things were different. Violet would never admit it but she was much different outside of school, outside of being surrounded by tons of people she didn't like. She was softer, sillier and more enjoyable. Pearl suspected it was because Violet felt like she had to keep her guard up at school. Like she had to keep everyone at a fair distance so that no one would ever have the upper hand on her--or maybe it was because she was a Gemini and just a crazy bitch. But either way, Pearl liked it.

The blonde smiled to herself before setting her sketchbook aside and climbing onto the bed beside Violet. “Let me see.”

-

“I know!” Courtney exclaimed, as Jinkx laughed beside her, “That’s why I always ask him to-”

She stopped speaking suddenly, pulse racing. Adore was standing behind Jinkx, waiting for her cue, and around her neck was something Courtney hadn’t seen since wrapping it in September--the choker that she’d given Adore for her birthday. She’d long ago accepted that Adore might have just tossed it in the trash, or donated it to Goodwill. But she’d kept it.

For the first time in so long, Courtney felt a surge of hope, overcome with so much joy that tears stung her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Jinkx asked, placing a hand on her arm.

“Yeah…” Courtney watched Adore carefully as she turned to answer a question from Willam. Had she noticed Courtney? Had she noticed that Courtney noticed her? Courtney turned back to Jinkx. “Yeah, I’m good.”

-

Courtney stood in the wings, watching the little exchange between Willam and Roy in the “graveyard,” laughing to herself. If Mrs. Maguire thought that her flirting was bad, she should take a second look at Willam. Courtney glanced around to see if anyone else was enjoying their scene as much as her, when she spotted Adore. She waited for Adore to look up and catch her eye.

Adore gave her the slightest little nod, her first sign of civility since the Fall. Courtney’s heart soared. What should she do? Somehow, as much as she wanted to fling herself into Adore’s arms and sob her eyes out, she knew that it would be the wrong move.

So she bit her lip, making a slight motion towards the stage to beckon Adore over.

“Willam’s fucking with Roy. It’s totally making him squirm,” she explained in a soft whisper.

Adore chuckled a bit, standing closer to get a look at them.

On stage, Roy grasped Willam by the shoulders and hissed his line in a stage whisper.

“Come away with us!”

Willam waited a beat. But instead of reaching for his whistle like he was supposed to, he collapsed in Roy’s arms, crooning, “Yaaas, Daddy!”

“You ass,” Roy pushed him off.

Courtney turned to Adore, giggling, glad to see her laughing too, searching awkwardly for something to say. She reached out and touched the veil of her habit.

“I can’t believe you’re playing a nun.”

“Apparently, a lot of nuns were gay. No men to answer to, just women, don’t have to marry some douchey old asshole. Lesbian havens.”

“Wow. Cool.” Courtney nodded. “Sounds like cheer camp.”

Adore stared at her, blinking.

“Huh...I never realized how gay cheerleading was…”

“Oh yeah. Super gay. You should have joined in with me. You’d have cleaned up,” Courtney finished with a sly smile.

“Yeah,” Adore snickered. “Too bad I can’t dance.”

“That doesn’t matter. I can’t dance.”

“Shut up, yes you can.”

“No, I can learn choreography. But according to Alyssa, I had no rhythm,” Courtney explained.

“Yeah, well...Alyssa is a twat.”

“True,” Courtney laughed. She caught Adore’s eye again, grinning at her. And when Adore smiled back, she really did feel like she might break down in tears.

So she looked away, swallowing hard, dared to reach out her hand towards Adore. When Adore allowed her to link their pinkies together, her breath hitched in relief. Even better, Adore took a small step closer to her, allowing Courtney to rest a head on her shoulder.

They probably had a lot to talk about. And it was possible that things wouldn’t ever truly be the same as they were before. But for now, in this moment, Courtney felt like everything was exactly perfect.

-

Spring had brought more than blossoming flowers—and “pollen,” as Violet constantly whined about—for Adore. That dark cloud that had been hovering over Adore for so many months had finally vanished. The light in her eyes and the genuine laughter that fell from her lips was a breath of fresh air for everyone, but mostly herself.

She had been in such a good mood, she even volunteered to join Violet and Fame for a sleepover.

And now, Violet, Fame and Adore found themselves in the battle of the bored-est; Fame was stuck in a cycle of indecisiveness as she changed around her MySpace theme for the fourth time that evening; Violet was surrounded with a mess of old clothes from her closet on the floor; and Adore, well she was stuffing her face with pizza as waited for Courtney to text her back.

It felt as if things had never changed as Courtney was complaining about her grandmother, who Adore wasn’t too happy to hear had moved in. It had actually come as a shock to Adore. Yes, she noticed Muriel around more often in the neighborhood, but Adore never would have thought that she’d move in.

If only Adore could have been there for that conversation between Courtney and Karen.

Adore knew that it would be the thing she would always regret the most about pushing Courtney away--all the time and moments she should have been there and she wasn’t. The stories she could have been a part of, but now would only hear secondhand, through Courtney’s animated storytelling.

Adore willed away regretful tears before they came. There was no reason to shed sad tears now. She and Courtney were in a better place now.

Maybe, with time, they could even be better than before.

“Ugh, no. I can’t do this!” Violet suddenly announced, crumpling up a blouse and tossing it across the room in frustration.

Adore arched an eyebrow, waiting for Violet to elaborate.

“What’s wrong?” Fame asked, only glancing over at Violet, who was now sitting with her arms crossed, a pout forming on her lips.

“Wassup, Vi? Can’t find your favorite skirt?” Adore joked.

“Shut up!” Violet snapped, “No, I-I’m just… I need a break. I’ve been conceptualizing this dress for nearly two weeks now. And I don’t even like the fabrics together. I mean they’re sooo, fu-cking tacky.” Violet emphasized her point by tossing clothes in the air around her.

“Yeah, and I can not with this theme. I really wanted a theme that would incorporate everything that I am.” Fame pushed her desk chair away from Violet’s computer.

“I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. You had one of the cutest themes in school,” Adore tried to reassure Fame.

“Yeah, but it didn't say ‘FAME!’' she threw her hands up giving her best spirit fingers. “When someone clicks on my page they should instantly know ‘this girl is not like the rest.’”

“Why don't you just, put some pictures of a chicken as your background, and I’m sure we can find an audio of chickens clucking on the internet and call it a day. I mean everyone will definitely know ‘this girl is not like the rest,’” Violet suggested, causing Adore to choke out a laugh.

“I’m not sure whether to be insulted or… because that was actually a pretty good idea-”

Fame’s answer was followed by Violet’s famous screech of, “Hell no!.

“What?” Fame questioned.

“You’re an idiot,” Violet shook her head, climbing on her bed and settling beside Adore. “Do not put chickens as your background and please do not even think about an audio of chickens clucking, because I will never visit your page ever again.”

“Ugh, whatever,” Fame rolled her eyes, before focusing on Adore. “What do you think?”

“I wanna dye my hair,” Adore responded, gladly leaving the chicken conversation behind.

“Wait, huh?”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Adore sat up, tucking her feet under herself. “I think it's time for a change.” She gestured to the two-toned black to a faded blue greyish hair upon her head, the turquoise dye from the summer almost completely gone.

“Wh-” but before Fame could even finish her sentence, Violet let out something between a squeal and a roar of excitement, shocking the other two girls, as she bounded off the bed and started digging through her closet.

“Fame, come on, put on your shoes. We have to do this before she changes her mind. I mean, I had planned to just cut all her hair off tonight in her sleep, but this is so much better!”

“Wait, what?! OUCH!” Adore tumbled off the bed, trying to untangle her legs from beneath her.

By the time she was right side up, Violet and Fame already had their jackets and shoes on their feet.

“You wanted to cut my hair?”

“Adore, only in theory,” Fame tried to reassure her, “now put on your shoes and let's go.”

Adore swatted her hand away, “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“No, but neither did you. You were the one walking around here like some kind of dehydrated smurf, these last few months, so let's go.”

Violet began to pull Adore out of the room before she could even get her shoes on.

-

“Ugh, I don’t even know why you let it get this far.” Violet shook her head, whipping the dye together in the bowl.

“Tell me about it...” Fame’s disappointed tone made Adore smile. “The blue was fading three months ago. Violet, I told her to let me handle it back then.”

“She doesn’t listen.” Violet rolled her eyes as Fame draped an old towel around Adore’s shoulders.

But in spite of being the object of their derision, Adore felt amazing. In the drug store earlier, she’d chosen a bright, fiery, cherry-red. It would be glorious, a real statement--and it wouldn’t interfere with the play, since she’d be wearing a nun habit the whole time anyway. She was practically bouncing as she sat on the toilet seat in Violet’s small bathroom.

“You both just need to focus on not fucking my hair up. Because if I end up bald because of you two, I’m ready to fight,” Adore joked.

“We know what we’re doing,” Violet reassured her.

“Honestly, all this kinda makes me want to dye my hair,” Fame shrugged, looking thoughtfully at her reflection.

“Omigod! Please go red with me,” Adore begged excitedly. She loved the idea of more people joining in on the fun.

“Hmm, maybe. Not that bright though, maybe a bit more auburn-ish.”

“That… would look so good on you.” Violet’s eyes lit up at the idea of Fame’s famously blonde hair a darker red.

“You think?” Fame tossed her hair, fluttering her lashes at both of them.

“Yes, let’s do it!” Adore cried, gung-ho and excited, bouncing up out of the chair.

“Calm down, bitch,” Violet said, shoving her back into the chair. “One victim at a time here at Chez Violette.”

[art-and-the-hockeys]

The Cure to Sadness

Date: May 15, 2019

Hockey Players involved: Miro Heiskanen & Jesperi Kotkaniemi

A/N: The story can also be read on Wattpad

Warnings: just some moody, moody moods

Words: 3,157

Part: 1/1

In Dallas, the skies are pure blue as the sun glows every-so-brightly. Its warm rays stream through the glass door of Miro Heiskanen’s apartment and land on Miro himself. However, even with the comfort of the sunshine, Miro stays slumped on his white sofa, eyes glazed ahead at the dormant television with sadness.

Complete sadness.

Like a machine, his hand runs through the fur of one of his Pomeranians, who cuddles up against him on his lap.

His other Pomeranian is scooped up from the wooden flooring and into Jesperi Kotkaniemi’s arms. With it, Jesperi bounds up to its owner with a toothy grin.

“What are we gonna do today in yee-haw land?” He plops himself next to him. “Are we gonna ride horses? Lasso pigs? Is it gonna be…” He sticks his face into his. “...mint?”

Miro just snaps his small, blue eyes to him. Then looks back ahead at the dormant television. “No, we’re not doing that.”

“Then...what are we doing?”

Miro stays in the same position. He blinks.

Jesperi tilts his head with concern. “Heisky…!” He pokes his shoulder. “Where’s that smile?”

Miro’s shoulders drop, along with his head. “I don’t know.”

Jesperi pulls away with realization. “Ohhh, it’s Moody Miro now!”

Miro readjusts his dog on his lap. “I guess. I don’t wanna do anything today.”

Jesperi’s eyes light up. “This calls for…!”

His voice rings off as he springs from the sofa, letting the Pomerian go, and rushes into the small kitchen. He vanishes behind the kitchen island before reappearing with a box of cake mix in the air. 

“...CAKE!” He slams the box down on the island’s surface. “Nothing takes away moodiness like a nice cake.” He cuddles with the box.

Miro peers at the scene, his eyes droopy. “Thanks, Jeppu, but...I don’t want to.”

“Wait, wait…!” Jesperi dips behind the island again and rifles through the cabinets again. This time, he reveals a container of frosting with sprinkles. “FROSTING!”

“I don’t think you should eat that.”

“Who says I’m eating this? This is for you!” Leaving the contents behind, Jesperi leaps back to Miro. 

“Because you are moody.” With two fingers, he pushes a smile up Miro’s face by the corners of his lips. “And you gotta be happy! Because if you’re moody, then—” He pulls his hands away and gives a large frown. “—I’m moody.” He slumps onto the floor. “And everything is moody.” He drops onto his stomach. “And we’re all moody.”

And Jesperi just lays down, displaying his own sadness. The other Pomeranian trots up to him and licks the side of his face.

“Miro.” Jesperi peers up at him. “Why are you moody?”

Miro keeps his eyes ahead. “It just comes.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

Miro peers down at his back. Compassion forms on his face. “Okay, I guess I’ll help you bake the cake.” He then sits up, holding onto his pet.

Jesperi pops onto his feet, grabbing the dog in the process, and holds it up in the air. “Kippis!”

After placing the dog back on the floor, Jesperi darts to the kitchen and gathers all the utensils. Miro drags himself to be behind the kitchen island, completely contrasting Jesperi’s bouncing-off-the-walls excitement.

Once Jesperi lands next to Miro, Miro asks, “Okay, what’s first?”

Jesperi takes the box of cake mix and squints at it. 

Miro notices the front of the box staring at the younger Finn. “Other side.”

Jesperi turns it around and continues squinting. He then hands it to him. “I can’t read.”

With a huff, Miro reads it. “First, preheat the oven to three-fifty…Fahrenheit.”

Miro catches Jesperi about to take off to the oven and throws out, “No, I’ll do it.” He then pads past him, to the oven.

Jesperi sighs and follows him with his eyes. “Okay, what should I do?”

Miro busies himself by pressing the buttons on the oven. “Open up the box and pour the flour into the bowl.”

Jesperi’s eyes light up. He spins to the box, tears it open, and fishes for the bag. With victory, he pumps the bag of cake mix into the air before grabbing the bag with his teeth and ripping it in half over the bowl. Flour spills into the bowl and clouds up, billowing all over his face. He coughs.

Miro peers over his shoulder at the sound of his hacking. “What now?” Then with confusion, he returns to his spot and gazes at the dusty mess. “How did you open this…?” He holds up the shredded box as if it’s toxic. 

Jesperi gasps for air, waving away the flour in the air. “There were no scissors.”

Miro opens up the drawer beside him and pulls out a pair of scissors.

Jesperi halts his flailing and wheezing and stares at the tool with a powered face. “Oh.”

After putting the scissors away, Miro has to hold up a curled piece of the box to read the instructions. “Okay, now add water, oil, and eggs.” He puts down the box. “I’ll measure them out.”

“And me?”

“Clean yourself up.” Miro shuffles away. 

Jesperi wipes the flour with his shirt, only to get more flour on his face due to his shirt being full of flour. He coughs and sneezes some more.

Miro returns with the measured ingredients, including a clean rag, which he offers to the younger Finn. 

Jesperi takes it. “Kiitos.” He brushes off his face and hair. 

Miro cracks one egg. 

Jesperi pulls the rag away, his hair is messy and sprinkled with flour. His eyes widen in awe at the contents in the bowl. “I wanna crack the eggs!”

Miro pauses with a new egg in his hand. “Uh…” He holds it out to him.

Too eagerly, Jesperi slams the egg on the countertop. It splatters all over the countertop. 

Jesperi freezes at his mess. “Whoops.” He turns to him, his face growing red. “Can I...try again?”

Miro hands him another egg. “Gently. On the bowl’s edge.”

Jesperi follows his directions. The egg’s shell snaps against the bowl’s edge and allows Jesperi to split it over the bowl. All its contents slip into the bowl.

“Yes!” Jesperi tosses the egg shells aside before clapping and hopping in place. “I did it! Can I try another one?”

Miro gives him the last one. He then cleans the mess of the egg on the countertop as Jesperi cracks the last egg.

Done with his task, Jesperi drops the shells into the trash next to him and dusts his hands. “Okay, all done! Now?”

Miro peers up from wiping down the countertop. “Pour the water and oil into the bowl.” He resumes cleaning.

With glee, Jesperi takes each measuring cup and pours the liquids into the bowl. “And now?!”

Miro throws away the dirty napkins. “Mix.” He scoops up a whisk and holds it out to him. “With this. Gently.”

Jesperi takes it with a frown. “Aw...no electric whisk?”

“No.”

Jesperi stares at him with pleading, sparkling eyes. It’s a look only a cruel person would say “no” to.

Miro sighs, defeated. “Okay.” He plucks the hand-held whisk from Jesperi and exchanges it for an electric whisk. 

He plugs it in. “Start on the lowest setting. Mix it around gently.”

Jesperi bumps the switch up, turning it on. As the mixer hums, Jesperi works its spinning blades into the batter.

“Now, bump it up to a higher speed.”

Jesperi pushes against the switch with this thumb, which slips; the switch swings up to the highest speed. The flying blades send batter into the air, splattering on the walls, appliances, and the two Finns. Jesperi lets out a scream at the mayhem. Miro dives for the outlet and yanks the plug out.

And silence draws upon the kitchen. Minus the two’s panting.

“I want the normal whisk,” Jesperi finally admits.

Miro removes the electric mixer from the bowl and hands Jesperi the whisk. Jesperi finishes mixing the ingredients into a smooth batter with it.

He taps the whisk against the bowl’s edge and peers at the thick batter in the bowl. “Looks good?” He peers down.

Kneeling next to him, Miro wipes the batter off one of his Pomeranians. The two dogs are busy licking the batter off of each other. “Yeah!”

“Cool! Now?”

“Uhhh…” Miro rises to his full height and scans through the torn box. “Grease the cake pan and pour it in there.” He points to the spray can and the cake pan on the edge of the countertop. 

“Ooo, okay!” Jesperi snatches the two items and sprays the airy substance onto the pan. The two both squint as clouds form from the spray.

Jesperi finally stops. “Is this good?”

Miro gazes at the cake pan. Its inside is coated with white.

“Yeah, it’s good. Now, pour it in.”

Jesperi puts the cake pan down for the bowl and pours the batter in. His eyes glimmer at the sight. 

Miro takes a wooden spoon and scraps the leftover batter into the cake pan. 

He then places the spoon aside. “And I’ll take it to the oven.” He scoops up the cake pan and brings it over to the oven. 

Jesperi watches as he slides it into the oven, closes the door, and sets the timer. He then returns to him.

“How long is it for?” Jesperi asks with hopeful eyes.

“It said thirty-five minutes on the box.”

Jesperi cranes his head up and groans. “Ugh! That’s a long time!”

“Well, we can do something in the meantime…”

Jesperi straightens down. “Like?”

* * *

Jesperi finds himself staring at the two cute Pomeranians. Their small, black eyes shimmer as their fluffy sand and tan-colored fluffy fur add to their adorableness. Miro sits next to Jesperi on the floor of the living room, concerned.

Jesperi points to the left dog. “That’s Leo. No, no, no, no—” He points to the right dog. “—that’s Leo. And the other’s Max.”

A beat passes by.

“No, that doesn’t seem right—” Jesperi points to the right dog. “THAT’S Leo. And the other one is Max.” He presses his lips and drops his hand. “No, but he looks too old to be a ‘Max.’”

Miro gazes in helplessness.

The oven then beeps.

Jesperi’s face lights up. “CAKE!” He flies to his feet and bolts to the oven. “YES! CAKE! GIMME!”

Standing in front of it, he hops in place. Miro steps up to it and opens the door. He takes a toothpick and plunges it into the cake. 

He then pulls it out and presses his lips. “It needs five more minutes.”

Jesperi’s jaw drops, along with his excitement. “But-but-but WHY!?”

Miro shows him the batter-coated end of the toothpick. “It’s uncooked. You’ll get sick if you eat it like this. It does have raw eggs.” He closes the oven and sets the timer for another five minutes. 

Jesperi cranes his head back. “Aw man!”

Miro tosses the toothpick into the trash and turns to him. “Is there anything you want to do? Other than eating the cake?”

He throws a pointer finger in the air. “I got something!”

* * *

Sitting at the dining table, Miro scrutinizes something ahead. Across from him, Jesperi holds a small whiteboard with a proud smile. On the board’s white surface are scribbles of circles and lines.

“A...cow?”

Jesperi shakes his head.

“A...dog?”

Jesperi shakes his head again.

“A...bear?”

Jesperi shakes his head once again.

“A…”

The oven beeps.

“CAKE!” 

Jesperi drops the whiteboard and speeds to the oven. Hopping up and down like before, he watches Miro opening up the oven and testing the cake with another toothpick.

Miro pulls away from the oven and sighs. “Another five minutes.”

Jesperi halts his jumping. “WHAT?” He then collapses onto his knees and arches his body up to the ceiling. “WHY DOES LIFE HAVE TO BE SO CRUEL?!”

Miro peers down at him. “It’s just cake.” He then turns to the oven and sets its timer.

Jesperi plops onto his stomach and holds onto Miro’s ankles. “AND I NEED THE CAKE NOW.”

Miro huffs and peers down at him. “Okay, what did you draw that I was guessing wrong?”

“Oh!” He springs back onto his feet. “It was you playing hockey!”

Miro slightly gapes at him. “Oh. I wouldn’t have guessed...difficult level.”

“Now, your turn?”

“Alright.”

They return to the dining table and settle in their spots. Jesperi hands his friend the whiteboard and marker.

Miro erases the whiteboard with his sleeve and sketches something. He then shows it to him.

Jesperi’s face lights up. “That’s a flower!”

Miro nods, erases, draws something else.

“That’s a star. Easy!”

Miro changes up the picture.

“That’s a cloud!” Jesperi drops his expression into concern. “Heisky, you know you’re supposed to make the drawings hard to guess, right?”

Miro erases the drawing. “Uh...well, I don’t know how to draw hard…?”

“Try to draw me playing hockey!” He flashes him a toothy grin.

“Okay…”

Having the whiteboard propped to display to Jesperi, Miro begins to sketch. 

Confusion clouds Jesperi’s face. “Uhhh...a happy flower?”

Miro eyes him. He continues drawing.

Jesperi tilts his head. “A happy...building?”

Miro looks at him, concerned. He adds onto the drawing.

“A….car standing up.”

Miro adds the final details to his drawing. “It’s supposed to be you playing hockey. You told me to draw it.”

“Ohhh...that’s right…” He chuckles in embarrassment.

The oven beeps again.

Jesperi darts his eyes to the oven, gripping onto the table’s edge. “It HAS to be ready.”

Miro gets up and strolls to the oven before opening it. Jesperi approaches him from behind. He spots the lonely, bare cake in the large, glowing oven—golden, round, and perfect to devour.

Miro takes another toothpick and inserts it into the cake. He removes it and holds it out to Jesperi.

At the sight of the clean toothpick, Jesperi gasps and pumps his fists in the air. “Yes! CAKE!”

Miro exchanges the toothpick for oven mitts, which he uses to move the hot cake onto the oven. He then takes the ripped box from the countertop and reads, “‘Wait ten minutes to cool down before frosting.’”

Jesperi groans and drops his head onto Miro’s shoulder.

* * *

To pass time, the two immerse themselves in a game of hangman. Jesperi holds up the whiteboard to Miro from across the dining table. The whiteboard shows four lines underneath the hangman station.

Miro examines it. “Uh… ‘M’?”

Jesperi writes the letter on the first line.

“Oh! ‘I’?”

Jesperi writes that down next to the “M.”

“Is that my name?”

“No…!” He writes “R” and “O” on the side and draws out the head and back.

“Oh. Uh…” Miro leans closer to it with narrowed eyes. “Oh…” He pulls away. “‘Mint.’”

Jesperi scribbles in the remanding letters to create the word “mint.” “How did you know?”

“You say it all the time.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jesperi holds out the whiteboard and marker to him. “Your turn!”

Miro takes the items and resets the game with seven words. 

Jesper’s eyes widen at the long row of lines. “Oh wow! English?”

“Yes.” Miro nods. “I can make it Finnish.”

“No, I gotta work on my English.”

“Okay.”

Jesperi rubs his chin while staring at it with pinched eyebrows. “Uhhh… ‘M’?”

Miro shakes his head. He adds an “M” on the side before drawing the head.

“Ummm… ‘J’?”

Miro includes the back after adding a “J” besides the “M.”

Jesperi drops back against his backrest of the chair. “Oh no…” He frowns slightly with determination. “Mmmm… ‘I’?”

Miro puts in an “I” on the third line.

Jesperi’s face lights up. “Oh yes! ‘N’!”

He adds in two “N”s across the lines.

“‘Finland’”!”

Miro writes in the word. “You’re good!”

Jesperi smiles ear-to-ear, rocking back and forth. “Our country is always first!” He then glances at the clock on the oven. “Is the cake ready?”

Miro takes a look at the oven’s clock. “Yeah, I guess. Let’s frost it.”

“YES!” Jesperi dashes up to the cake sitting on top of the oven. He then follows it as Miro transfers it onto a plate and brings it over to the kitchen island.

Jesperi lowers himself to be eye-level with the cake, his eyes sparkling. “Mint…!”

Miro uncaps the frosting container and hands it to him along with a frosting knife. “You can frost it.”

“FROSTING!”

Jesperi drives the knife into the container, pulls out a load of the white, fluffy goodness, and smears it all over the cake. As he cakes the bread with the frosting, the frosting makes its mark on his face, clothes, and countertop. Miro stands aside, safe from getting dirty.

Jesperi scraps the last of the frosting and works it into the frosting on the cake. The cake sits on the plate, completely covered with frosting, which is uneven and sticking up at odd places. 

Miro gives him a warm smile. “Pretty good!”

Jesperi gazes down at his work, with a proud grin. 

He then holds out the opened palate of sprinkles to him. “Sprinkles?”

Jesperi nabs it and dumps the rainbow decorations onto the cake. The sprinkles sit on the frosting as a pile.

Miro rolls his lips at it. “Okay.”

Jesperi toss the empty palate aside. “AND NOW WE—”

Miro holds out a saucer with a cake knife and fork. “—serve.”

Jesperi sighs, lowering his level of enthusiasm. “Aw.” He takes the items, cuts out a mound of cake, and plops it on the saucer. He hands it to him. “For you.”

Miro receives it with a warm smile.

Jesperi then serves himself a load of cake before picking up a fork. 

He pumps the plate up into the air and announces, “To the moody, moody moods we all go through!” He then lowers his plate, digs his fork into the mass of cake, and stuffs it into his mouth. 

Beside him, Miro eats a forkful of cake. The sweet taste of frosting mingled within the soft, fluffy texture of the bread warms him up.

A smile works its way up Miro’s face. He peers up at him. “This is perfect. Thank you, Jeppu.”

Jesperi stops his mini dance and gives him a frosting-covered smile. “You’re welcome! And the cake is mint!”

“The cake is mint.”

Jesperi shimmies his shoulders as a little dance. “Mmmm, mmm, mmm! I’m having more!” He serves himself another helping before turning to the older Finn. “You want more?”

Miro halts from taking in another forkful. “Uhhh…”

“Come on. You can never have too much cake.” Jesperi cuts out another piece of cake.

“Well, alright.” He can’t hold back his bashful smile. “I do want more.”

With a grin, Jesperi serves Miro another slice. 

And with that, they eat together without a hint of moody moods.

The End.