#second guy is a character of mine if youre wondering who he is

[butchbarneygumble]

I've heard this one a hundred times over so enjoy the sass

[zecoritheweirdone]

first art post of the new year!!! granted, i don't share my art here that much anyway, but– shhh.

hehehehhhooo,, here's something i've been working on for 'bout a month,, albeit not consecutively– took a few,, very very long breaks in between working on this,, but i managed to finish it in the end! am i satisfied with it? .......ehhhh? not completely, but if this took any longer, it might not have seen the light of day, so like. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

anyway,, made a little poster for my favorite fic, tommyinnit's services for villains, vigilantes, and various other vagabonds, by @scorpionoesit!!! it's really really good,,, and i've always wanted to make more art for it,, so i decided– poster! at least,, that's what it's mean to resemble,,, dkdmkdmdkd.

i will freely admit,, i'm... not the biggest fan of the fan-made logo i tried to design for it,, feels a bit boring, and could definitely have used a bit more pizazz, something to make feel more like the fic itself(what does that mean? you figure that out),,,, but– again, steam was running low,, dkdnksjs. graphic design is my passion. i do also have other complaints, but i'm afraid i already punched my one-use self-critique card,, oh well,,, dkdnkxjdkd.

regardless,, even with the flaws only i can really see,, this still turned out pretty okay!! hope you enjoy it, mx. scorpio and mx. alibi!!! and i hope everyone else has a wonderful new year!!!!

[demonpiratehuntress]

fictional boys (Monster Trio + Ace, Kaku)

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Kaku x F!Reader

summary - their reactions to finding out you have a crush on a fictional character

warnings - slightly angsty in Sanji's part but otherwise none

a/n: Kaku is severely underrated and there is a shocking lack of fics for him

ZORO

You're always reading. This was normal for you, but Zoro had never seen you this engrossed in one before. You spent more time with that damn book than you did with him these days, and even napping with you was a pain because you always had it with you. And he didn't understand your obsession with it, until he overheard a conversation between you and Nami.

"So who's your favourite?" The orange-haired navigator asked excitedly, leaning forward for the gossip.

"(Random Name)," you answered just as eagerly, your eyes lighting up excitedly. "He's the coolest!"

"Right?" Nami agreed, a dreamy smile on her face. "And the hottest."

"Oh yeah definitely."

"Who's the hottest, now?" A familiar deep voice cut through before you two could get any further than that. Zoro stopped by the table, crossing his arms and looking unamused.

"A guy in this book," you answered your boyfriend, unaware of the hostility in his tone, "He's this really cool knight who-"

"I'm cooler."

You looked up at him in surprise, not expecting him to cut you off with those words, "What?"

"Your stupid knight," he clarified, "I'm cooler than him. And hotter."

You looked at Nami, who was trying her hardest not to laugh. Then you looked back at your boyfriend, who was looking at you expectantly. Waiting for you to agree.

"Zoro-"

"Oh, so you like him better than me?"

"No! I never-" You stopped, starting to smirk. "Wait...are you jealous?"

He glared at you, "I don't get jealous."

"Oh, alright then," you sat back, deciding to tease him. "Then I can tell you more about his heroics, if you'd like."

A growl followed your words, and the book was quickly pulled from your grip and tossed overboard. The silence was only broken by a splash, before you finally reacted.

"Zoro! What-"

"Mine," he suddenly lifted you up bridal-style, "All mine." He carried you off to his room to show you - remind you - who you belonged to.

"I'm way better than that shitty knight."

ACE

The last time Ace had seen you, you were reading. The next time he saw you, you were still reading. He had gone and had a whole island adventure while you'd apparently just lay on your shared bed with your nose buried in a book. He wondered what was so special and interesting about it, so when you went to go do something he picked it up and read a little bit of it.

"Ace? Are you actually reading something?"

You giggled from the doorway, watching as the second division commander jumped, startled, and dropped your book. He looked up at you, pouting slightly.

"Just wanted to see why it's more interesting than I am."

"It's not more interesting than you are," you denied, coming over to the bed. You sat down next to him, picking it up and checking if you still had your page marked.

"But you're ignoring me to read it!" He protested, crossing his arms. With that and his pout, he looked like an upset child. It was cute.

"I'm not ignoring you! It's just..." You sighed. "There's a character I really like and I want to see where his story goes."

"His?"

You realised your mistake too late. Ace's eyes narrowed, looking from your face to the book. For a moment, there was dead silence, before he suddenly burned your book to a crisp. Your eyes widened and you were about to scold him for that, but he quickly engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug, nuzzling his face against your neck.

"You don't need a stupid book boy, you have me."

"Portgas D. Ace, are you jealous of a fictional character?"

"W-what?! NO! I just...you know...you don't give me any attention anymore!"

"So you're jealous. Of a boy who doesn't exist."

He groaned, keeping his face buried in your neck so you wouldn't see the embarrassing blush that fell over his cheeks, "Not jealous. Just want you." Before you could tease him any further, he leaned up to kiss you deeply.

"I'm the only one who's allowed to have you, no one else. Not even some damn fictional character."

LUFFY

He doesn't think much of it when you spend most of your free time reading. He doesn't feel threatened by anything or anyone when it comes to you, but he is also very confused by the concept of fictional characters. So when he hears you and Robin gushing about one, he is only intrigued by what you guys are talking about.

"Did you get to the part where..." Robin was asking you, rambling on about one of the scenes in the book.

"I did!" You gasped, "And I loved it. Especially what he did."

With Zoro napping, Sanji cooking, Chopper making more rumble balls, and Franky and Usopp working on the ship, Luffy had nothing better to do than come sit and listen to you and Robin. When he heard 'he', though, his interest was piqued.

"Who's 'he' (Name)?" He asked curiously.

You blushed at his question, unsure of how to explain this to your boyfriend, "He's, um, he-"

"He's (Name)'s fictional crush," Nami answered for you, shooting you a playful smirk. She knew damn well what she was doing, and your eyes widened.

"Luffy-"

"What's a fictional crush?" He blinked, confused.

"Nothing!" You quickly responded before Nami could open her mouth again, "It's really nothing, it's not important."

"It means (Name) likes a boy in the book she's reading," Nami continued, "The same way she likes you, Luffy."

"NAMI!" The glare you shot her could make sea kings tremble.

"But why?" Luffy questioned, "(Name) said I'm the only one she likes like that."

"And that is true," you agreed, smiling as you gave him a quick but loving kiss on his cheek. Sometimes you were grateful for Luffy's obliviousness.

"Good, because I would have just fought him for you."

SANJI

Sanji was happy to see that you had found something to occupy yourself with while he was busy, so he wouldn't feel guilty about leaving you alone so much. He would bring you snacks and refreshing drinks while you read, happy to serve you and keep you satisfied while you enjoyed your mental adventure. But a conversation between you, Nami and Robin changed everything.

"(Random Name) is so hot," you were gushing as Sanji arrived with another tray of drinks, "Like, unbelievably hot. And he's so sweet, too. Definitely boyfriend material."

While Nami and Robin eagerly agreed with you, Sanji almost dropped the tray he was holding. His eyes went wide at your words, and he felt his stomach churn.

"My love...who are you talking about?"

He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but why would you openly talk about some other man in front of him? Is this how you felt when you saw him give attention to other women? He swore he would stop right now if it meant this person wasn't real.

"A guy from the book I'm reading," you smiled up at him, but faltered when you saw the look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he shook his head and forced a smile, "I'm glad you're enjoying the book, love."

"Sanji, he's just a fictional character," you turned to face the cook completely, "I wouldn't really date him, even if he was real. You know I only love you, and you alone."

Your words were reassuring, and Sanji was grateful it wasn't any real person, but the words 'boyfriend material' rang in his head again. He set the drinks down. Then, unexpectedly, he got down on his knees and clasped his hands together in a begging gesture.

"(Name), my sweet, beautiful girlfriend that I love more than anything else in the world, I promise to stop looking at and flirting with other women if you stop reading that book!"

You raised an eyebrow, realising that he really was jealous of (Random Name), "You really mean that?"

"Yes yes yes! Please!"

"You better keep that promise."

"I will, because I'm only yours and you're only mine."

KAKU

With Kaku's job being...what it was, you spent majority of your time at home in Water 7 alone. He was almost always away on missions, leaving you with nothing to do but turn to books to occupy yourself during the day. So in the absence of your boyfriend, it was only natural you would be drawn to fictional men as a way of receiving affection.

Kaku didn't expect to come home and find downstairs neat but empty.

"(Name)?" He called out, frowning when he got no response.

He came upstairs, finding you asleep on the bed with a book clutched close to your chest. He looked at the title - it was a romance. That made him feel guilty; he knew you didn't like romances, and that you only read them when he wasn't around. He tried to remove it from your grip so he could cuddle you instead, but this action stirred you and you slowly sat up.

"Kaku?" You blinked the sleep out of your eyes, then smiled softly, "You're back. Hi."

"Hi," he replied sweetly, returning your smile. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"It's alright," you reassured him, "I didn't realise I fell asleep. Must have read until I passed out."

He chuckled at that, before gesturing to the book, "What were you reading about?"

"This?" You looked down at the book. "Oh, I just heard from a friend it was good. And that the main male character is swoon-worthy, which he is. I can see why she liked it."

At the mention of the male MC, Kaku felt an unjustified and unnecessary bout of jealousy swell up inside him. You liked the guy in the book? Maybe if he had been here you wouldn't.

"You don't have to be jealous you know," you started to smile playfully. "He doesn't compare to you."

"I'm not jealous," he tried to deny it, but his rosy cheeks gave it away. "It's a fictional character, why would I be jealous?"

"'It'?" You teased, pulling him closer to you. "So jealous you can't even give him a pronoun." You laughed, and the sound relaxed the tense CP9 agent.

"Ha, ha," he replied dryly, wrapping his arms around you. "Come here."

"I love you, and only you," you smiled and kissed his cheek.

"Good, because it will only ever be me and you."

[willsimpforanyone]

Hya!!I was wondering if you could do a poly!solangelo x child of posioden!reader smut. Like a bit of a friendly/cute tease of how Nico keeps falling for posioden kids. I hope your having or had a good day! Also your work is like the meaning of a MASTERPEICE!!!!!!!! Thank you😁

thank u for being so patient and so sweet about my work! <3

all characters are over 18, they have an apartment or something together etc. also i made the reader amab!nonbinary because i don't have enough representation of enby sex with a dick

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Even I could feel the heat from Nico's gaze as I blowdried my hair, ruffling the strands between my fingers. I smirked to myself, making eye contact with Will as he brushed his teeth.

"Do you think he thinks he looks brooding?" I stage-whispered, feigning secrecy between myself and the taller of my partners. Will snorted, and immediately sputtered toothpaste over the sink.

"It went up my nose!"

I cackled, throwing my head back and turning off the hairdryer to set it down on the bathroom counter. Nico's voice growled (read: whined) from the open door of the bedroom- "That's karma for laughing at their stupid comment."

"Aw, the edgy bastard can't handle being called an edgy bastard?" I teased, coming to lean against the doorframe as Nico stayed propped up on his elbows, laid on the bed.

He stuck up a middle finger and I blew him a kiss.

"Be nice to the edgy bastard," Will cooed, coming to wrap his arms around me from behind and hooked his chin over my shoulder. His minty breath brushed cool over my cheek. "You know how he gets about Poseidon's kids."

The other middle fingers came up as Nico flopped to lie flat on his back to swear at both of us. "I am not- I don't get like anything, fuck the both of you."

"Is that on the table?" I grinned, leaning back into Will and feeling his hands drag from my waist to my hips. Nico emitted an indignant, affronted noise that mellowed out into something approximating curiosity. Interesting. "Answer me, baby, do you wanna fuck both of us? Or... do you want both of us to fuck you?"

Will's hum vibrated through my ribcage and he nosed at my cheek. "Maybe he wants to see you all powerful and shit, I think. Powerful the way that P-"

The speed at which a pillow thumped into the both of us was honestly impressive, and I shrieked a laugh as it smacked into my (and therefore Will's) face. Nico was now sat up, arms crossed and a disgusted expression on his face. "Don't even, do not bring that name into our sex life, that boy was a mistake I wish never to repeat."

"Hey," I pouted playfully, picking up the pillow and throwing it back. "That's my half-brother, y'know."

Nico threw his hands up in the air and flopped down onto the bed. "Why, why must you remind me of that, do you hate me? I won't let either of you fuck me if you remind me that I'm dating the half-sibling of the first guy I had a crush on when I was 14 when I am now 24 and a whole ass adult who would like to not talk about dumb 14 year old love."

"Hey!" Will protested, waddling with me over to the bed and dragging me down onto it with him. "I have no relation to He Who Shall Not Be A Part Of Our Sex Life."

I had to agree that he deserved the second pillow to the face that Nico served him, and I wiggled out of Will's grip to go crawl over to the son of Hades. "Won't mention it again, Neeks, promise, I'm sorry."

The pout I recieved was adorable and I was utterly powerless to resist kissing it. I was rewarded with a shy smile and hands coming to rest on my shoulders. "Thank you, baby, I appreciate that."

I nodded, kissing him once again. "Now, seriously, do you wanna fuck? 'Cause you were definitely eye-fucking me in the bathroom and I wanna know if you're up for more."

Nico hummed, nodding his head and bumping his nose with mine. "Mhm, yes, I do, I would like to be fucked because I'm warm and still kinda sleepy and frankly being between the sea and the sun sounds incredibly appealing."

The soft whine came from Will, who squirmed over to bury his face in Nico's hair. "I love you so much and you're quite romantic really and I wanna hold you while you get fucked because I don't want to, like, do that bit right now. That okay?"

"More than okay," Nico replied softly, a hand leaving my shoulder to scratch gently at Will's golden halo of hair, freshly washed and smelling of roses and honey. I hummed an agreement, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

"You can hold him together while I take him apart, hm?"

I felt the shiver of Nico's body and by Will's hidden smirk, I could tell he did too. Hefting himself up, Will crawled over to the headboard, making grabby hands at his boyfriend. "Come here, you." He recieved a pout, Nico's head tilted back to look at him and exposing his pale olive-toned skin to me quite nicely. Will rolled his eyes fondly and reached out to heave Nico up into his arms. "24 year old adult my ass, demanding to be carried everywhere."

I shrugged, grinning and crawling over to curl my fingers over the waistband of Nico's worn sweatpants that are only acceptable to wear to sleep. "He can be a pillow prince if he wants- what are you gonna do, say no?"

"...no, I'm going to indulge him every time because life was mean so I won't be," Will mumbled, face smushed into Nico's hair, voice dripping with affection.

Nico shifted uncomfortably, the skin of his cheek caught in between his teeth. "You don't have you, y'know? I'm not- if you don't want to, I'm not gonna make you." He looked at me, nerves spiking with worry that he's somehow forced us into this.

"Neeks, we want to do this," I reassured him gently, pulling at the elastic of his sweatpants and murmuring the words into the soft skin of his lower stomach. "Will just wanted to hold you, and you were totally okay with that, right?" He nodded. "And I know that if I didn't want to do this, I could say so and we'd do something else, right?" Another nod, then a blink and a visible steeling of his nerves and a softening of his body.

"Yeah, of course, anything, anything you'd want," Nico whispered, fingers tangling with Will's as they both watched me ease Nico out of his sweatpants and gently pull his thighs apart.

I brushed a kiss over the inside of his thigh, laying down on my stomach. "Right now, I wanna make my boyfriend feel good while our other boyfriend looks after him, does that sound good?"

"Colour, baby?" Will murmured into his ear, reminding him of the traffic light system- green is good, yellow is slow down to a stop and talk, red is stop immediately and transition into aftercare.

"Green, green, I'm good," Nico breathed, eyes locked onto me as I pressed my lips up his thighs. I blew softly over his dick and he inhaled sharply, the same moment he twitched under my attention.

The first swipe of my tongue had his stomach muscles tensed, lip caught between his teeth. Grinning, I looked up at Will. "Lube, please, loverboy." Will rolled his eyes but blushed at the name, obediently grabbing a bottle from the bedside drawer and passing it to me.

Holding it in one hand to warm it up a little, I used the other hand to wrap firmly around Nico's dick, holding it just so I could get my lips wrapped around the tip. The twin inhalations from the boys above me were fuel to the burning heat in my abdomen.

"F-Fuck," Nico whimpered, fingers squeezing tight at Will's as I dragged my tongue around the head, coaxing him harder and harder in my hand. Slowly, I took more into my mouth, feeling the familiar weight of his cock on my tongue and sucking very lightly. The taste of precome burst on my tastebuds and I shivered in delight that my tough, edgy, extraordinarily powerful boyfriend was so easy to please.

Will's lips were pressed to Nico's ear, voice soft and lilting. "Aren't they pretty, huh? They look so good with their head between your legs, does their mouth feel good, baby?"

"M-Mhm, r-really good, so warm, shit-" Nico gasped as his cock bumped the back of my throat, hips jerking up but Will moved both pairs of their hands to hold him down.

"Behave, Neeks, let them do the work," he hummed, kissing Nico's temple. I flicked open the cap of the bottle, releasing my grip on Nico to drizzle some lukewarm lube over two of my fingers.

I pulled my mouth off him slowly, blinking up at my boys through my lashes with a cocky smirk on my face. Nico already looked wrecked, my poor love. "Ready for more?"

His nod was almost frantic, and I laughed softly. "Alright, just relax, I've got you, hm? Will's gonna keep you nice and warm and grounded, okay?"

I rubbed ever-so-gentle at his hole, getting him used to the feeling before easing the tip of my finger inside. Nico threw his head back against Will's chest, gasping.

"Shh, I know, I know," Will cooed as I pressed in further, making sure not to hurt him as his hole swallowed up my finger to the knuckle. I moaned at the sight and the feeling, hips pressing into the bed as I dragged the finger back out. "Feels good, doesn't it? They're so good with their hands, so good at getting you ready for them, shh, don't squirm, be good for us, baby."

Nico's eyes were lidded and heavy, cheeks flushed down to his chest and lips parted in shallow breaths. He looked gorgeous and I kept my eyes on his face as I slipped a second finger inside him along with the first.

He keened, back arching and toes curling. Soft, almost sleepy moans fell from his lips and I soaked them up like ambrosia. "Beautiful," I whispered, pulling and pushing my fingers into the tight, hot heat of Nico. I could feel him relaxing, acclimating to the feeling and loosening up under my touch.

"B-Baby," Nico panted, hips making aborted little rolls despite Will holding him down. "More, p-please, want more, wanna feel you."

Will chuckled lightly, nuzzling into Nico's pink cheek and looking down at me. "You heard the man," he grinned. "Give our pillow prince what he asks for."

I saluted from between Nico's thighs. "Sir, yes sir!"

Nico scrunched his nose, a playful smile tugging at his bitten lips. "Cringe, ew, stop immediately, I will not let you fuck me in some kind of military kink scene, you two can negotiate that firmly without me."

Laughing, I crawled up to be face to face with him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "You don't wanna be the lowly soldier being taken advantage of by his captain and their general?"

"No," he declined flatly, one eyebrow raised in disgust. "No, I do not want that."

"Spoilsport," I pouted, leaning over Nico's shoulder to press my lips to Will's as well. "Guess I'll just have to fuck you without the honourifics." I opened the lube again, hissing slightly as my wet hand wrapped around my sensitive skin, pleasure and desire running thick through my veins as I knelt back between Nico's legs.

Will smothered a laugh, arms moving to wrap around Nico's ribs under the t-shirt he was still wearing. His eyes met mine and he winked. "You'd look hot in the uniform, though." Nico smacked a hand over Will's mouth, then repeated the action with mine when I opened it to reply.

"Enough! No military kink in this bedroom while I am also in this bedroom, and especially not when I am waiting impatiently to be fucked by my partner!"

"I love it when you get demanding," I smirk into his palm, leaning over him with one hand settled on the bed and the other guiding my dick to rest teasingly against Nico's hole. He clenched and released, making a punched-out sound as I applied the barest amount of pressure.

"You're such a tease," Will laughed, smoothing his hands down Nico's sides. "Let the poor kid have it, come on."

"I'm 24!" Nico protested, wriggling slightly to look back at Will. "Just 'cause I'm younger than both of you- oh!"

He choked on his protestations as I finally pushed in, head breaching his tight hole. My head dropped forward, chin almost to my chest as I moaned lowly, his warmth pulling me in little by little until I bottomed out. Nico's hands scrabbled for purchase at my shoulders, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to get used to the feeling.

"Just relax, deep breaths, baby," Will soothed, voice liquid and silky to my ears. "It's okay, I've got you, do you need anything?"

Nico shook his head jerkily, focusing on breathing as I stayed as still as I could, holding myself up over the two of them.

A hand pushed my hair out my face and I looked up at Will. "You too, hon- I'm literally wrapped around our Nico-" (our Nico, ours) "-but I've got you too, do you need anything from me?"

I melted inside, his striking blue eyes feeling safe and lovely and not for the first time I thanked the gods that I got to fall in love with both of them. I shook my head, a small, shy smile pulling at my lips. "I'm okay, I'm good, just waiting for Neeks to be okay."

"I'm okay," Nico parroted, hips rolling experimentally and I gasped harshly at the sudden sensation. He smirked, despite being slightly floaty. "I'm ready, are you finally gonna give me what I want?"

I laughed breathlessly, just once, before I moved my hips. I pulled out and pushed back in sharply, revelling in the yell the action dragged out of the man underneath me. I repeated the movement over and over, fingers curling harshly into the bedsheets and stomach tense as I pound into my emo pillow prince over and over.

"This good enough, huh?" I gasped out, grinning in satisfaction as Nico only nodded his head. He squirmed and twitched against Will's chest, hands grasping at my body wherever he could reach.

Will gently spread Nico's legs further, hooked Nico's knees over his own and suddenly Nico yelped, cock jumping against his stomach where it had been smearing precome over his skin. I grinned, aiming for that one particular spot again and again, reducing my boyfriend to a moaning mess of pleasure as he melted into the arms of our other boyfriend.

"There it is," Will cooed, teething over Nico's ear. "That's where it feels so good, doesn't it? Our baby, they're so good at this, found your prostate so easily, they know your body so well."

Both Nico and I flushed at the dirty talk, the sinful words of the child of Apollo who became an utter menace the moment he found out how his voice affected us. He kept going, muttering filthy things into Nico's ear just loud enough that I could hear him over the pounding of my heart in my ears.

"B-Babe, W-Will-!" Nico groaned, shaky hands clutching at the back of my neck. "Can you- please touch me, wanna come, 'm so close, baby, please?"

I snapped my eyes to Will, knowing that Nico might be too out of it to remember that Will didn't want to be too involved. "You don't ha-have to, sunshine, I've got him i-if you don't want to."

Will shook his head, smiling softly at me and dragged his hand teasingly down Nico's torso to palm at his neglected cock, flushed and weeping. "I've got him, I want to, we can make him come together, right?"

I nodded, breathless and beginning to chase after my own peak after focusing on Nico for so long. Will's long fingers wrapped around Nico's cock and I cried out as Nico's hole tensed around me at the touch, dropping my head onto his shoulder.

"Fuck, fuck, need- need Nico to come first," I pleaded, ever the polite gentlefolk even as I was falling headfirst (dick first?) into pleasure.

Will's hand jerked and tugged almost ruthlessly at Nico, sending him spiralling into an orgasm. He thrashed between us, a soft scream ripping from his throat as he came all over himself, white streaks staining his pink, blushing skin. I pulled out of him quickly, giving a throaty, choked moan as I released over Nico's stomach, hips twitching against nothing as I bit my lip hard.

Nico's eyes were closed, lips parted as he panted, but he waved his hand about until he found my head, dragging me down into a fierce kiss. We kissed until we were dizzy, tongues tasting like each other and bodies settling down from the highs.

"Love you," Nico mumbled, words pressed against my lips and I thrilled at the admission, just like I did every time.

"Love you too," I whispered back, nose bumping into his cutely.

"What am I, furniture?" Will joked, earning tired laughs from both me and Nico.

"Very comfy chair," Nico hummed, tilting his head back to press clumsy kisses into Will's jaw. "Favourite chair."

"Love you too," I whispered again, this time leaving a kiss on Will's forehead and he blushed at the simple affection, rolling his eyes and kissing my cheek back.

He sighed quietly, looking down at the mess we made of Nico. "You know you're for sure gonna need another shower, right?"

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this truly got away from me, and i blame the fact that i've been reading so much quality smut fanfic. hope you enjoyed!

[buddie911abc]

Here I go again.

Buck asks Eddie if his son is the real reason he doesn't date. Eddie responds with, "That and, they weren't my type."

This has been a flag for everyone who reads the subtext, but let's take a moment to look at the last GIF.

Eddie says they weren't his type. Buck turns around to look at them and probably assesses what makes them, 'not' Eddie's type because the girls were all subjectively pretty. There were also a variety of types of women there.

But look closely at the GIF. Eddie said they weren't his type. While Buck is glancing back, Eddie gives Buck a quick look that really screams, "You are it. You are the type." When I noticed this from the GIF edit, I thought it might be the creator slowing it down, but nope. If I look at the episode, it is the same or nearly the same. This is early season two, and I have always thought, in the early episodes, there was no intent to pair Eddie with Buck as anything but a friend. However, this scene makes me wonder at what point Tim M or whoever was writing changed their minds about adding in a subtextual narrative.

I find it very difficult to see this scene as a heteronormative exchange. In fact, it even feels like Eddie is pushing back a little to test where Buck stands. Buck as a character who lacks self-awareness gives a mixed signal answer. (which tracks with his character at this point and matches his coming-out arc.) **edited to clarify** Buck's mixed signal response to Eddie saying they aren't my type is, "Not mine either, at least not anymore."**

A few seconds later, Buck says Eddie has a weak excuse. My lovely and wonderfully sassy Eddie says, "You live in your invisible girlfriend's house, and you're telling me about weak excuses." He essentially points at Buck's closet door, but of course, this is something that Buck couldn't see or pick up on at the time. These moments are small in the grand scheme of the show as a whole so I'm afraid it will be forgotten. It would be nice to have some sort of throwback acknowledgment that this scene hasn't been retconned.

To backtrack a little bit here, I would also like to point out something else about the early timing or the writing of these characters as potentially queer. They are outside. (True I don't understand the ins and outs of filmmaking so there may very well be a reason for this.) But the shot itself is making them walk close together. Not just close, their shoulders are literally bumping against each other, hitting and knocking at each other in a way that might appear "unintentionally" intimate--until you remember they are outside. It seems to me like there are dozens of ways to shoot this thing that don't require them to be so casually physical with each other. For the scene to be shot like this and then consider the canon conversation that took place, it feels quite intentional that the writers wanted viewers to look closely for something else.

Whenever certain people call Buddie shippers delusional, I think about this. Subtextual language aside, the scenes are shot in such a way as to plant the idea of "More." There is attraction here. There is flirting.

Someone, somewhere wanted to tell this story from the start; and I'm not mad about it. I'm 100% here for it, and I'm ready for it to go down as the most epic love story I've ever watched or read about, but I also admit that I want it to be canon, not so I can throw it in anyone's face that their ship is wrong, but so I can prove I'm not some weirdo putting two hot guys together. I'm seeing a real romance being built. I want that validation as much as I want everyone under the LGBTQ umbrella to see representation for themselves on screen.

If you want to see the scene, go to about 3:05.

[kimpossibly]

𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐈𝐓

REQUEST Hi hi happy new year!! I love your rowan fic (can't wait for part three) and I was wondering if you could do hc's for Wednesday characters (Wednesday, Enid, Xavier, Rowan, Tyler) seeing their SOs in a suit (preferably a female reader please)? thanks! — anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: AHHHHH MY FIRST REQUEST!! Hi hi happy new year I love this prompt! I'm getting maaaaaajor Kate Bishop vibes here...this is so exciting. I kind of ended up doing the suit hc + how they would act when taking you to the Rave'N, so I hope you like that bit as well :) Happy new year! I hope you enjoy it!

PAIRING: fem!reader x wednesday characters WARNINGS: two little suggestive comments, but other than that it's just fluff!

✰ 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐒

We all know that Wednesday is not one to show enthusiasm...or any emotions. About anything. Ever.

But when you appear in the doorway in a suit, she almost almost cracks a smile.

She recovers quickly, of course, and gives you a brisk "You look nice."

I'm just going to assume you're wearing a suit to some sort of formal event — maybe even the Rave'N

Regardless of where you're going, Wednesday sticks by your side the entire night, glaring at everyone who looks at you.

Basically she's giving everyone the silent "She's mine."

And if anyone comes up to you to flirt? Oooo boy she is threatening them with everything she has.

And after the potential flirters walk away, terrified, and you give her a surprised look, she just stares back at you like she's done absolutely nothing wrong (which, in her mind, she hasn't.)

"Wednesday, what was that?"

"A reasonable reaction to people hitting on my date. Why do you ask?"

And you can only roll your eyes at her, blushing like mad as you wrap an arm around her. "No reason."

✰ 𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐃 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑

Now Enid is the exact opposite of Wednesday when it comes to this. When you pop up, girlie squeals.

As in, loud enough to make everyone cringe and cover their ears

Once again, in the opposite fashion of Wednesday, Enid takes every opportunity to show you off to everyone, so much so that you end up a little embarrassed.

"Everyone, look look look! Look at how good Y/n looks!"

"Enid."

"What? Can't I tell everyone how good my girlfriend looks?"

While not socializing, she is dragging you onto the dance floor just so that she can admire you from every angle

And every five minutes she reiterates the sentiment

"Ugh, Y/n, you look so good!"

"I know! You told me five minutes ago! And five minutes before that! And five minutes before that!"

Poor girl is sooooo down bad.

✰ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐄

I feel like he'd get so thrown off by you in a suit that it'd be easy to mistake it for him not liking it.

Like, he's just so baffled that he can't properly articulate his feelings towards it.

"Y/n...you...um..."

Your heart starts to sink a little, but you cover it up with a small grin.

"That bad, huh?"

Needless to say, that gets his lips moving.

"No!" he shouts, a little too loud. "No, no of course not. You just...you look incredible."

He just genuinely forgets how to get across how drop dead gorgeous he thinks you look

And he feels sooooo much pride when you guys walk in together

He's not going to show you off verbally, but with you on his arm, he's exuding "Yeah, that's right, look at my badass sexy girlfriend."

And towards the end of the dance, you'll ask him if he's ready to go

"Ready to leave?"

"Yeah," he says, then leans in to whisper in your ear, "I really want to see what that suit looks like on the floor."

I think you know what comes after that...

✰ 𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖

Oh my God...this boy forgets how to speak.

The second you appear in the doorway wearing the suit, he's a stuttering mess.

He's gonna need his inhaler if he wants to get a few words out

Once he gathers himself, he'll finally tell you how amazing you look

God he feels so cool arriving at the dance with you on his arm

He's just like me...he thinks women in suits are hot.

Literally cannot take his eyes off of you the entire night

He's not much of a dancer, but if you are, he'll probably suffer for a few minutes or so. Just for you.

Plus, it's just another opportunity for him to look at you up close, which is a total win for him.

Also, he is very touchy just in general, but I imagine especially so at this dance.

When you're off to the sides, he'll keep an arm wrapped around your waist or a hand locked in yours.

If you're sitting, he'll keep a gentle hand on your knee

And when you're dancing? He will be holding your hands, waist, anything.

He just likes the feeling of security and knowing that you're there with him and you're not going anywhere.

He'll probably even pull you out of the dance a little early, just so you guys can get back to his dorm before Xavier gets there

✰ 𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐈𝐍

I may not know much, but I know that this man is going to get you blushing in 0.000275 seconds.

He'll momentarily be awestruck by you, but of course he'll recover pretty quickly from the shock. Then, he'll say something that'll get you all hot and bothered

"If I had known you were going to pull off a suit better than me I would've brought sweatpants."

Idk what it is about that slightly awkward, slight confident vibe he has going on, but it works

He knows how to make a gal smile, that's all I'm saying.

He'll be a proper gentleman the whole night, but he's expertly hiding how freaking good you look in that goddamn suit.

He'll probably even make some kind of "twinsies" joke...because, you know...you're both in a suit. Please laugh he'd be so embarrassed if you didn't.

You guys would be on the dance floor ALL NIGHT

You'd be tearing that shit UP don't lie

And it is so much easier to maneuver in a suit over a dress, so you best believe you guys are doing allllllll the dancey dances

The only reason you stop is when one of you is about to collapse and you need to go slam some punch for stamina.

And at the end of the night, he would pull you close just to tell you once more how absolutely amazing you look, just to see the cute lil blush that follows &lt;3

[bettyfrommars]

Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 3: Crimson and Clover

Eddie x fem!Reader & Steve x older!OC

masterlist playlist

18+MDNI, not too many warnings for this part just mention of losing a parent, hint to an abusive relationship, alcohol consumption, tons of awkward flirting, eventual smut, but very much a slow burn. Steve is in his mid-late 20's, aunt Kim is mid 30's to early 40's, or whatever age you are, dear reader.

wc: 4.5k

Summary: Hello! We're getting to know a bit more about the character dynamics, listening to some of Eddie's thoughts, and catching a glimpse at a third possible romance on the horizon. Preparing us for the wild ride that starts in the next chapter.

Songs for this chapter: Under the Milky Way/The Church Edge of a Broken Heart/Vixen Seek and Destroy/Metallica

The shores of the resort were thick the next day with people who worshiped the sun, playfully kicking at the water in their bathing suits, stretched out in their lounge chairs, glistening in layers of Hawaiian Tropic tanning oil.  

You, on the other hand, were still fully clothed, covered in SPF, under one of the big umbrella’s the resort offered with your headphones on to drown out the sound of the screaming children.  Your dad was in the shade next to you, absorbed in a book, while aunt Kim caught some rays on her backside in a black one-piece that was high at the hip, flipping through an issue of People magazine.  It was the Summer of Love issue celebrating the 1960’s with the Beatles on the front and the quote: “It’s 20 years later, do you know where your love beads are?”

“Don’t you want to get in the water, Bird?” Your aunt cooed politely, adjusting her big sunglasses on her face.

You shook your head, pulling your headphones down.  “I think I’ve developed a phobia of public watering holes.”

“Suit yourself,” she sat up and brushed herself off.  “I think I’ll take a quick dip.”

“Watch out for sharks,” you quipped, earning the weight of a magazine being thrown at your hip.

“This has been enough excitement for me,” your dad cleared his throat, placing a bookmark to save his spot, standing from his chair, knees popping.  “I think I’ll head in, get some writing done before dinner.”

“Later dad,” you mumbled, wishing you had an excuse to hide in a room by yourself all day.  

Once he was gone, Kim took a drink out of her water bottle and heaved a sigh.  “I wish the two of you would give this place a chance.  Look at that lake!” She stretched her arm out, pointing. “It’s breathtaking.”

You gazed out at the expanse of the cheery, vacation scene, bursting with melancholy.  “Mom would’ve loved this place,” you choked on the last word, not sure where that fresh pang of emotion had come from.  

Kim chewed the inside of her cheek, equally adrift in reverie, when a body stepped up to block the sun, putting her in its shadow.  “I was hoping I’d run into you again.” 

The body belonged to Steve, and he was shirtless, in a pair of navy-blue Staff swim trunks, short and slightly snug against his hairy thighs, and flip flops.  His lips were glossy, and even though he wore sunglasses, he had to shield his face with his hand, squinting against the sun so hard that his top lip curled.

Kim tried to speak so fast she coughed, wondering if she looked too frumpy in the suit she had on.  What was she thinking? He had to be a good 10 years younger than her, no way he was interested in—

“Kim, right?” He aimed a finger gun at her, but then he struggled a bit with your name, snapping his fingers to ignite recollection.

“And you’re Steve,” Kim's eyes couldn’t help but land on the silver chain nestled in his ample chest hair.  “Did you, um, are you working on your tan?”

It took him a second to catch what she was referring to, and then he smirked, pulling a crumpled polo from his back pocket.  “I jumped in to cover lifeguard duty for a buddy of mine,” and then he shifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and so did she.  “If you ever need a swimming lesson, I’m your guy.”

“You’re a swim instructor too?” Kim asked, impressed. Steve put his hands on his hips, accentuating broad shoulder muscles.

“Nah,” he shrugged, tucking his chin. “But I’d do my best.”

You dropped your gaze to the sketchbook you’d been doodling in, trying to pretend like you weren’t listening.  From the headphones around your neck, the song Under the Milky Way by The Church played and a handful of kids ran by you giggling, dusting sand onto your blanket.

Steve wished you a good afternoon just before he excused himself, seemingly headed back to the pool area.  You thought he’d been on his way somewhere else, but you were mistaken.

“I think he likes you,” you swirled a few doodles, raising an eyebrow.

“Noooo,” Kim gave a long protest, adjusting the straps of her bathing suit.  “He works here, it’s his job to be friendly.  

“Yeah? Is it his job to keep checking over his shoulder at you as he walks away?”

Kim peeked just as the man in question tripped over his own feet.  Regaining his balance, he waved and said, “I’m okay,” and then proceeded to put his shirt back on as he approached the lifeguard station. 

It was your turn to stiffen and feel tingly all over when you spotted Eddie strolling down the sidewalk from the main house, wearing a tool belt loose at his hips to accompany his denim and staff shirt attire.  

From the way he knocked that Lance guy out with one punch the other night, you wondered if his hand hurt.  Adjusting yourself, you wet your lips, as if he’d spot you or something, which was impossible from that distance.  He cut in front of the fenced pool area, heading for the outdoor bar that had a thatched roof like you’d see at a tropical beach.  For the first time that day, you noticed that Chrissy was working the area, carting fancy drinks around to the guests at the pool.  Her blonde ponytail bobbed as she turned from what she was doing to talk to him.  

She dipped her chin a few times in answer to whatever questions he was asking, and then he squeezed her arm affectionately before taking off again.  

“Do you want anything from the bar?” You got to your feet, dropping your Walkman to the towel.

Kim cocked her head, considering the question.  “Is it too early for alcohol?”

Eddie was back on the path, his back to you as he got further away, but your attention was on Chrissy mixing cocktails in a metal shaker.  

“I can see if they have mimosas?” You weren’t thirsty, really, but you were curious.  

Kim decided on a bloody mary and asked you to put it on her tab, slipping you a few bucks for a tip.  

The smile Chrissy gave you as you approached was polite, but it did not reach her eyes.  “What can I get for ya?”

You told her, fumbling over your words a bit, and then waited on one of the five stools for her to make your drinks.  She scooped ice into a Styrofoam cup and tossed in a jigger of alcohol. You noticed a gold, heart shaped locket around her neck with something engraved on the front.  

“Is it true you used to play with Vixen?” You asked, in awe.

Chrissy’s face fell and she paused to stare at  you.  “Who told you that?”

“Oh, um, Joyce, she, well—sounded like she was proud of you.”

Chrissy went back to work.  “That was a long time ago, back when life was good.”

“It’s not good now?” You were intruding, and you knew it, but still, you couldn’t help yourself.  

Chrissy scoffed. “You could say that. Lemon in your tea?”

You nodded, wondering if there was anything you could say or do to cheer her up.  

“How long have you and Eddie been together?” 

She frowned down at what she was doing.  “Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” she corrected.  “He’s like a brother to me. Known him since I was a kid.”

“Oh I see,” you pressed your lips together, trying not to appear relieved at that news.  

There was a lull of silence as she finished up and you felt compelled to fill it.  “I saw you play with the house band last night.  I think you’re really talented.”

You could hear the click of her molars gnashing together when she placed both drinks in front of you. “Playing lame cover songs for a no-name house band is the best I can do with my life right now. Music is the only thing I’ve ever cared about.”

You used some of your own cash to give her an even bigger tip and scooped up your drinks.

“Hey, wait,” Chrissy called after you. She rubbed her forehead and tried to smile.  “Listen, I’m sorry that I’m, that I’m being such a bitch,” she shrugged. “It’s been a shit couple days.”

You shook your head, cold drinks sweating in your hands, about to tell her that you understood, but the two of you were interrupted.  

“Bird, there you are,” you froze at the sound of Troy’s voice. “Glad to see you’re enjoying the amenities.”

Troy had a green and white tennis outfit on with a racket in his hand, and you caught the way Chrissy tensed and quickly turned away at his entrance.  She folded the tip you’d left and put it in the front pocket of her apron.  He came up close to  you—too close, invading your bubble—and so you shuffled back, bumping into one of the stools.  

“The staff is treating you well, I hope?” He leaned against the tiki bar, and it was not lost on you that Chrissy pretended to be so busy she didn’t notice him.

“Just about to bring this to my aunt,” you lifted the red drink with the celery stick sticking out of it. You glanced at Chrissy, but she went to the other side of the bar to help someone else.  “The service here is impeccable,” you said, loud enough for her to hear.

You headed out and he kept up, sticking by your side. “I’ll walk with you,” he winked.

“Great,” your smile was a tight, thin line.  

—-------

Eddie bent at the waist to sip from the stone drinking fountain near one of the utility sheds and splashed water on his face a few times, combing wet fingers through his hair so that his bangs were off his forehead.  He worked the cool water around the back of his neck, wondering if he had a sunburn.  He loved Indiana for the fall colors and the long winters, but the summer? The summer heat could go fuck itself.  

Water was still dripping from his chin and nose when Steve walked up, sunlight through the leaves making patterns on his face.   

“Did Robin mention we need to borrow your van tomorrow night?” Steve bent down to take a sip from the fountain after he asked it.  

Eddie pulled the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face, exposing his stomach and trail of hair from his belly button to his waistband.  “As long as you don’t bring it back on empty. What’s wrong with your car?”

“We need to pick up a bunch of Robin’s stuff from her ex’s house,” Steve raised his brows high, locking them in place. “Girl is a bit of a psycho, I don’t want Robbie to go alone.

Over Steve’s shoulder, he caught sight of you making your way back to the umbrella with Troy by your side and he hoped that you were smart enough to know that guy was a piece of shit.

“I work late tomorrow, but I’ll help you unload when you get back,” the tip of Eddie’s tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, eyes darting to you again.  You weren’t some goddess from the cover of a hotrod magazine, or one of the metal babes who always tried to go down on him when he used to play shows with his old band, but yet, without knowing anything about you, the sight of you made his heart jump into his throat.

“Nah, we got it,” Steve talked as the two started walking.  “It’s just a mattress and a chair and some clothes I think.  I told her just to let them go, but it's the principle I suppose.”

“I get it man, believe me,” Eddie once drove three states just to get a rare Scorpions concert tee back from an ex who stomped his heart.

“Hey,” Eddie caught Steve before he headed off in the other direction.  “Jam at the Hideout tonight?”

They bumped fists. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

—-------

The movie Casablanca was the offering at the outdoor theater that night, and respective families cuddled on the lawn on their various blankets and camp chairs under cover of generous tree branches.  Halfway through, you excused yourself from your aunt’s company to find the restroom, and that was when you spotted Chrissy and Troy having what appeared to be a heated conversion at the curve of the sidewalk near the rose garden.  You ducked behind a tree just as Humphrey Bogart said one of his infamous lines on the screen.  

Since everyone’s attention was occupied elsewhere, no one but you saw the way Chrissy pointed in Troy’s face, only for him to snatch her wrist in a way that made you gasp.  She yanked her arm away and turned on her heel, but then he caught up and lunged in front of her.  Whatever he said to her then calmed things down for a moment, she stopped trying to break free, and then he cupped her face as if he were about to kiss her, but she shoved away again.  That time, he let her go.  Hands balled into fists in his pockets, head down, he stormed off in the opposite direction, toward you.

You stood very still, hoping to be mistaken for the thick trunk of the tree, and thankfully, it worked. You came around to glare at his backside, but then trotted after Chrissy.  She was long gone, walking as fast as her feet could carry her along the treeline, and you didn’t think she’d appreciate you screaming her name at the top of your lungs in front of the other guests.  

It was pure luck that made you take notice of something shiny on the ground, a pile of glistening gold on the sidewalk.

It was a necklace, a heart locket to be exact, much like the one you’d noticed around Chrissy’s neck earlier that day.  You ran your thumb over the engraving on the front and let the delicate chain drag along the back of  your hand.  

You were sure that it belonged to Chrissy, the clasp must’ve broken during the struggle with Troy.  You had to get it back to her somehow.  

—-------

“Where are you going?” Your dad asked as you sailed through the living room on your way to the door later that evening.  He looked at his wristwatch.  “It’s almost 11.”

You’d planned on him being in bed already.  “I, well, I ahh—” you scrambled for an excuse, something that wasn’t “I’m going off the property to where people fight and get drunk and listen to metal”.  You were 21 and technically, by the law of the land, could do anything you wanted, but anyone who has ever traveled with family is familiar with the tendency to be treated like a child infinitely.  He loved  you, he worried about you, and you didn’t want him to stay up all night pacing, so, you lied.  

“There’s a meteor shower tonight, and a bunch of the guests are watching from the boat docks,” god, you hoped he wouldn’t fact check you on that.

He shuffled some saltines absently out of a tin.  “You’re still coming on the boat with us tomorrow morning?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you beamed, clenching the front of your jean jacket closed to hide the revealing shirt you wore underneath.  

You raced down the porch steps once you were able, dashing into the night with Chrissy’s necklace safe in your pocket.

—-----

A guy in a Black Sabbath shirt and a drastic mullet with hair down his shoulders moved out of the way for you as you crossed the bridge, and then you had to stand there and take a breath. Robin wasn’t with you and you hadn’t been invited to the Hideout this time, maybe they wouldn’t want you?  Surely you could find Chrissy at work the next day and give her the necklace then? Fuck it, you were almost there.  

You could hear the shrill feedback from a guitar and then someone speaking into a microphone.  Was that Eddie’s voice? Your heart raced.  People cheered at whatever was said, and then the drum beat kicked in a few times, followed by guitar riffs, and a woman’s voice singing the Vixen intro to Edge of a Broken Heart.

“I can't believe I could have been so blind

But love is strange

I thought about it for a long long time

But the truth remains”

You could feel the music in your chest.  Was that Chrissy? Perhaps it was the “band practice” Robin told you about, but the music didn’t sound at all like what you’d expect to hear from the conservative house band. The sliding door was open once you were in view, with people mingling outside, and you dodged around them, sucking in a plume of secondhand smoke from a passerby.   

Slithering through a few more bodies, you stepped right over the spot where Lance had gone down the night before, and then you had the perfect view of Chrissy exercising her impressive pipes on the microphone under a few ropes of tiny, pale string lights.  

Steve was on bass, hair flopping in his face, his mouth holding an “O” shape as he played. He had on a thin white tee that was soaked through with sweat on the front atop belted blue jeans.  Eddie arched back, exposing his throat, his fingers deftly working the strings on his smoke black Warlock guitar.  He had a Bark at the Moon shirt on with wide, ripped out arm holes exposing the tattoo work on his ribs.  His hair hung in his face when he bent over to play, a frown of concentration knitting his brows together.

Chrissy jabbed her fist in the air for the chorus and the crowd screamed it:

“I've been living on the edge of a broken heart

I don't wanna fall, I don't wanna crawl

I've been living on the edge of a broken heart

Don't you wonder why I gotta say goodbye”

She commanded the stage, playing guitar as she sang. You were too absorbed to realize that you had made your way forward and were right there front and center when Eddie glanced up.

He wasn’t expecting to see you, so he did a dramatic double take, nostrils flaring the moment your eyes connected.  Why couldn’t you just stay away?

A smile teased at the corners of your mouth, but faded to an unsure lip bite when he averted his gaze, scowl deepening.  He ignored you for the rest of the song. 

When it was over, there were cheers and whistles all around.  The drummer with the mop of tawny hair twirled one of their drumsticks in the air with a flourish and caught it, clapping the high hat.  Voices murmured around you as people fell back into conversation while they had a break from the volume of the amps, and you shuffled to the side, following Chrissy as she took her guitar off and held it by the fretboard.  She had on a cropped shirt with her shorts, golden hair loose and wild around her shoulders, her short fingernails painted black.  There were a few old, wooden apple box crates stacked on top of each other to act as a makeshift table, and she grabbed the neck of the beer that was waiting there to take a sip.   

Eddie continued to play, wailing on the guitar with precision, while Steve and the drummer followed his lead to the tune of Seek and Destroy by Metallica.

You tapped Chrissy on the shoulder, and she jumped.  “Oh shit, you scared me,” she said, spinning around. She checked around as if she were expecting to see someone else there.  “Where’s Robin? Is she with you?”

“No, I, just a sec—” you dug around in the front pocket of your jacket, panicking for a moment that you forgot to bring the locket with you. “I found this on the sidewalk, and I thought maybe you dropped it?”

Chrissy gasped at the sight of it and her eyes began to water.  “How did you–?” A sob caught in her throat, and she reached out to gently take it from you.  She shook her head in disbelief.  “I looked everywhere, I thought it was gone forever, I—”

“I thought that was you!” It was Robin, bobbing on the balls of her feet as she came up to nudge your shoulder.  But then, her attention turned to Chrissy and her face tensed with concern.  “What happened, why are you crying?”

“No, no,” Chrissy sniffed and opened her fist to show Robin the piece of jewelry.  “It’s my grandmother’s locket I told you about.  Bird found it.”

Robin bent to get a closer look and the two women knocked their heads together, sharing a laugh.  “The clasp is broken though,” Chrissy mused.  “It must’ve come off when—” she swallowed, deciding not to finish that sentence.  “I’ll take it into town to get it fixed this weekend.”

“Give it here, I’ll fix it for you,” Robin volunteered.  “Not only can I unclog a toilet, but I’m also pretty crafty.”

“Y-you’d do that for me?” She asked as she was passing it over.

“Of course,” Robin chuckled.  “I’d do anything for y—I mean, what are friends for right?”

Chrissy turned her attention back to thank you properly when Steve pushed in between the other two girls and slung his arms around their shoulders.  “What's going on?”

Robin cringed.  “Gross, Dingus, you’re all sweaty,” to which he shook his head and droplets from his hair flew everywhere, making the girls scream and push him off.

The three of them got into conversation about something and you sank back against the corrugated metal wall to observe.  You hadn’t noticed the music stopped but the drummer was in the crowd having a beer and just as you were on your toes trying to find Eddie, a warm body sank in next to you.  

“Hey,” Eddie said.

You looked just in time to catch his gaze traveling down your body, but then he was quick to lift his beer to his mouth and pretended to be watching the crowd. 

“Hey,” you returned, suddenly full sentences and conversation felt so foreign.  You were acutely aware that there was plenty of space along the wall, but he was pressed close, bare arm touching yours.  

“They let you stay out this late on a school night?” He grinned against the aluminum rim, amusing himself.  He had a second beer in his other hand, and he passed it to you.

“Ha. Ha.” 

He had one knee bent with his foot on the wall while the other leg stretched long to show the heavily scuffed toe of his black boot.  

You shuddered despite the heat.  “So, how long have you and Chrissy been playing music together?”

He hummed, shifting so that his bicep rubbed against you, squinting one eye shut in thought, tilting his head back.  “Been something like a decade now, I think? Feels longer.  Feels like I’m 60 years old some days.”

“How old are you though?” You swallowed so hard your throat clicked.  “45? 50?”

He leaned into you, hard enough to push you over if your feet weren’t planted, his hair skimming your shoulder.  “Close enough,” he paused to say something else, but then puffed out his cheeks and exhaled.  

He wanted to ask how long you’d been playing the cello, but how would he even know you did without admitting he’d watched you that night from the street like a stalker? “Do you think you’re gonna stick around, watch us play some more?”

“I could,” you were about to add something super cheesy like, “if you want me to,” but opted for nonchalant.  “I love watching Chrissy play.”

He nodded a few times, and pushed off the wall, handing you his beer.  “Hold this for me?” His silky brown eyes locked onto yours, the tip of his tongue resting between parted lips.  “Please?”

There you were, holding Eddie Munson’s beer.  He got behind the mic and took his shirt all the way off to wipe his face with it before strapping his guitar on.  The next song they did was an original, something that Eddie and Chrissy wrote, and Chrissy came in on backup vocals, while Eddie growled out the lyrics, banging his head every so often.   He swiped his bangs from his forehead, wet with perspiration, and his fingers worked like magic along the strings.  At one point, he and Chrissy shared the same mic, belting out the words.  

He made eye contact with you three times, not that you were counting.  Each time longer than the last.  When it was over, he came out and took his beer from you, fingers touching as he did so.

“Eddie, I think I—” you were about to let him know you should probably get going, but he’d already turned, chugging the rest of the beer as he went, and then they were right into the next song.  

Eddie wasn’t sure why you made him so curious, but the voices in his head were screaming at him to shake it off.  Somehow, he’d gone four years without getting involved with a summer person, he’d never even been tempted really.  Nothing good could come of it, especially since he’d probably end up being nothing but a vacation fuck for you to brag to your friends about.  

He glanced around but couldn’t find you during the song.  When he went to check for you at the wall, you were gone.  

---

thank you again for the love on this and for reading!

---

taglist: @micheledawn1975@kurdtbean@katethetank@elvendria@spookysqaush86@somethingvicked@stylesxmunson@laurenlokirby@sapphire4082 @kellsck @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @justdamnpeachy @dashingdeb16 @corrodedcoffincumslut @bexreadstoomuch @ohmeg@marrowfrog00

[twilightmalachite]

Esu Sagiri - Idol Story 2

Author: Akira

Characters: Esu, Subaru

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Hehehe… But you know, even though I was crying like an idiot just by watching… You were smiling up until the very end and did your job perfectly as an idol, Senpai."

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Spring

Location: Cemetery

Second year of ES’ establishment. At a secret cemetery somewhere in Tokyo…

Subaru: (Dad.)

(I’m sorry I visited you so late this year as well.)

(I’m getting busier and busier year after year, you know? Although in Trickstar’s case, it’s more like there’s no leisure for the poor...)

(You wouldn't angry at that, would you though, Dad? ‘Cause you were much busier than I was, day in and day out.)

(Nothing could be done about that, though. You were a super idol who carried the industry on his shoulders, after all.)

(You never gave up, though. You never complained, and on holidays you would even be sure to come back home with a smile on your face just to make your family happy.)

(You sure are amazing, Dad. I’ve always admired you. And I’m now in the same position as you—I’ve become an idol.)

(As time passes, I’ve slowly realized more and more just how amazing a person you were.)

(It made me happy. It made me happy to be able to understand you, Dad.)

(Hey, Dad, I wonder if I’ve become an idol worthy of your praise.)

(If possible, I’d like to have you say “Wow, you’re amazing, Subaru!” if you were alive.)

(And I wish you could ruffle up my hair like I was a dog, just like you used to too, but…)

Esu: NwaaAAAAAAH!?

(thunk)

Subaru: …?

Hmm? Umm, are… you okay…?

Esu: Ah, It's okay, do not mind me! My arms are just outta shape, as it’s been a while since I’ve climbed! I bit off more than I could chew!

I took a dangerous route to get away from this creepy guy, and accidentally slipped from somewhere high—

Esu: —Wait, you’re Akehoshi SubaruuUUU!

Subaru: Yup. Huh, are you a fan of mine?

(This isn’t good. I didn’t really want my fans to know where my dad’s grave was.)

(Although his reputation’s been restored to an extent, there’s still a lot of anti-fans who believe those rumors and consider him the worst idol ever…)

(I don’t want that. What if his grave gets vandalized or something?)

Esu: Oh, no no! It’d be presumptuous for someone like myself to call myself a fan!

Presem… Presim, prisum… Huh, is “presumptuous” correct?!

Subaru: Yep, that’s it.

Esu: Was I right? Got it! Good, good, hip-hooray! I mean, that was very kind of you! This debt of gratitude will not be forgotten even if I am reborn seventeen times over!

Subaru: Seventeen times over, huh? What’s with that oddly specific number?

You’re a strange kid.

Esu: Huh, you think so? I find myself to be normal, though! Maybe I’ve become a little out of touch with the world after having been cooped up for a while?

If I do anything that feels off, do feel free to point anything out! I’ll correct it!

Subaru: Alright. Well to start, it’s looked down upon to cause a ruckus at gravesites.

Esu: You’re right~! My bad! I’ll quiet down! I’m a man who has often been told “You’re so cute when you keep your mouth shut, Esu-kun!” by his inconsiderate classmates!

Subaru: So your name’s Esu, huh?

Esu: Yes! I am Sagiri Esu! My name’s pretty tough to read, or excessively sparkly rather, so it’s okay if you don’t remember all of it![1]

You’re free to just call me something like “Ecchan” or “Sacchan”!

Subaru: Ecchan reminds me of Eichi-senpai. Sagiri—I feel like I might’ve heard “Sagiri” somewhere before…

Esu: Oh, so you recognize it? My father used to be real popular! He was even called a super idol at a point!

Subaru: Ah, that’s right! There was a super idol who showed up sometime between the times of Hokke~Papa—Hidaka Seiya-san and my dad, right?

His name was Sagiri. My dad said that he looked up to him, so I remember.

Esu: Ahaha~, although it was all downhill for him once the next super idol, Akehoshi-senpai’s father, made his appearance.

Subaru: Well, my dad did become the talk of the town for many things, both good and bad… Those from around that time aren’t talked about as much anymore, with Hokke~Papa being an exception.

It’s like it’s all been balled together as a dark past to be forgotten, thanks to all that’s happened.

So I dunno how things are now, but, umm you—Sacchan, what’s your father doing now?

He’s not active anymore… right? I feel I’d know about him if he were active.

Esu: Oh, my father died.

Subaru: …Is that so? Sorry, I didn’t know…

Esu: Nah, if you didn’t know, you didn’t know! He passed away three years ago, and by the time he’d already turned over a new leaf as just an ordinary man.

Just an ordinary man, just with a bit of a nice-looking face.

Could at least look ugly… Wouldn't have to be followed around by that pervert then…

Subaru: Pervert? Had your father been targeted by some weird stalker or something, like mine was…?

Esu: No, no, this pervert has nothing to do with my father’s death. Sorry if I’m being difficult to follow! My communication skills aren’t all too great, after all! Just terrible!

My father died in a plane accident. Just a common—well, it’s not common, but an ordinary accident with nothing to do with idols or anything like that.

I was involved in the accident too, and although I managed to survive, I’ve been in the hospital up until recently. So, I've been in the process of rehabilitation for about six months, as of now.

Subaru: Is that so… I probably wouldn’t have even known three years ago. In the period before I entered high school, I would shut myself away from any and all information.

All of the information that would drift my way… I wouldn’t wanna hear any of it.

Esu: I totally get you~. It feels like anything and everything is an attack on you when your heart is weak, doesn’t it?

Even though nobody in the world probably spares a single thought about you.

Ah, but you’re an idol, Akehoshi-senpai, so tons and tons of people pay attention to you, of course! I was really moved by the SS from two years back![2]

It was like—and sorry if this sounds disrespectful—but your father also passed away… I felt like I could relate with you in some ways.

Like, “Ahh, this person, he’s me.”

Subaru: … …

Esu: At the time, I understood the expression on your face, your voice, everything, as if they were my own—I empathized! I was no longer able to distinguish between you and I!

I was in the hospital, lying in bed watching your performance, and I cried so hard that even the nurses became seriously worried about me.

Esu: Hehehe… But you know, even though I was crying like an idiot just by watching…

You were smiling up until the very end and did your job perfectly as an idol, Senpai. So, I thought you were real amazing—

Esu: Ahh, I can’t find the right words! Hang in there, my vocabulary!

Subaru: It’s okay. I understand you.

Thank you. For watching my performance.

You cried in place of me, didn’t you? Maybe that’s why I didn’t have to show a shameful sight like that upon such an important stage.

So… I know it sounds weird, but thank you. Really.

Esu: Oh no no, I seriously didn’t do anything! I don’t know what to do being shown gratitude like this?!

Oh, shoot!? I hear Fuyume’s voice! He hates exercise and isn’t all that good at it either, but caught up to me through sheer determination…!

I-I’m so sorry, but I gotta go now! It’s over for me if I’m caught!

Subaru: It kinda feels like you’re in danger… Do you need me to hide you?

Esu: Ah, that’s very kind of you, but I’m alright! This is a problem I gotta resolve on my own…!

But if you’d like, do offer some incense at the grave over there, the one decorated with cutesy goods.

That one’s my father’s grave.

Subaru: Right. This cemetery is for those in the industry that need to be kept secret from the general public. Both your father and my dad rest here.

It was through some sort of fate I was able to meet you, and hear your words that made me happy, so… Yeah, I’ll be sure to offer some incense.

Esu: Thanks! I’m sure our fathers are happy too! It doesn’t seem like they were on good terms when they were alive, but everyone becomes a Buddha when they die, right?[3]

I’m sure all those concerns and karma have been thoroughly purified!

—Eek, his voice is getting closer! Maaan, I wanted to have a nice and quiet visit to his grave after all this time!

But, well, I also caused a ruckus for no reason, and disturbed Akehoshi-senpai’s visit to his grave! That makes it sort of a mutual karmic retribution, right!—kinda?

Subaru: It’s fine. My dad always liked it when things were lively.

I’m sure he’s standing beside your father, watching over with a smile on their faces—over us.

[ ☆ ]

story directory

A sparkly name (キラキラネーム) is a term that refers to a recent phenomenon of giving names that are over-extravagant and notably very difficult to read. Esu's name is written with the kanji 笑主, which is both very unrecognizable as a name (it uses the kanji for laugh/smile + the kanji for lord/master), the reading is also very unnatural. The phenomenon is similar to the one where people will name their babies stuff like "Mhackenzeigh" or "Lakynn". Since knowing that 笑主 is read as "Esu" doesn't come instinctively, it would be difficult to remember; hence Esu saying there's no need to remember it all.

Referring to the SS where Trickstar won, back in ! era. If you aren’t aware of what happens to Subaru and Trickstar during the event, I highly recommend reading SS - Friendship 14 until the end of the event story, else this entire scene won’t make as much sense.

Esu uses a lot of Buddhist terminology here. If you’re familiar with the idea of reaching enlightenment, once you reach enlightenment, you let go of all worldly possessions, realizations, attainments, and achievements. This is what is referred to when one becomes a Buddha.

[lily-blue]

Stupid but mine

☆ characters: hermes’ son!haechan & apollo’s daughter!you ☆ genre: percy jackson au, humour ☆ warnings: physical fight, mention of blood and injury ☆ request: FWS24. form this prompt list ☆ summary: Haechan is always ready to defend your honour, even if it means he needs to fight one of Ares’ annoying sons ☆ words: 1,6k ☆ dedicated to: @dat-town​​ ♥

You had known Haechan since you had been ten; he had been the first person who had pissed you off when your mother had sent you to Camp Half-Blood to spare the rest of your family from possible monster attacks. You might not have been as smart as Athene’s children nor could you have read emotions as easily as the kids in the Aphrodite cabin, but from your first day at the demigod training facility on Long Island, it had been painfully obvious to you that it had never been about your safety. And that had turned you into an angry and rude teenager, who hadn’t known when to shut up or retreat. You would never regret punching the boy in the face for his comment on your emo eyeliner.

You had never regretted becoming his best friend, either, though the latter had taken a lot of time, convincing and a life or death situation that had turned the entire camp into a bloody battlefield two weeks before your sixteenth birthday. Gosh, the smug look on his face when you had ugly cried next to his not-so-unconscious body in the infirmary had burnt into your brain. You were pretty sure that, up to this day, he hadn’t forgotten about it, either.

Offering one of the strawberry cupcakes on your tray to the gods, you almost fell head first into the altar when a large body crashed against yours; you hated how you didn’t even have to turn towards the culprit to know who found joy in messing with you. When you had applied for the vacant camp instructor positions at the end of your last summer at Camp Half-Blood - which had already been three years ago - you hadn’t thought much about whom you would have needed to work together with in the future, and you cursed yourself for overlooking the possibility of numerous summers in Yuta’s company at least three times a week. The demigod was a pain in the ass, a man on a mission to raise your blood pressure for no goddamn reason. For Zeus’ sake. He was so annoying. Wasn’t it time for him to grow up?

‘Hey, asshole!’ Your best friend’s angry voice came from somewhere behind you, and you closed your eyes for a second to ground yourself. You knew… you just knew that all hell was about to break loose. Because as much as you appreciated him for always having your back, Lee Haechan hadn’t grown up yet, either, despite working as an instructor in a camp full of young kids and teenagers.

‘And here comes the self-proclaimed hero,’ Yuta mused, mockery thick in his voice, which only fueled Haechan’s frustration. Sliding your gaze from one to the other, you wondered whether you should have turned a blind eye on the upcoming disaster for once or stick around in case someone got hurt. You wished you could have walked away without feeling guilty. It would have made your life that much easier. ‘What do you want, Lee?’

‘Hm, dunno. An apology for a starter doesn’t sound so bad,’ Haechan retorted immediately after he inserted himself between the two of you. You could see people starting to pay more attention to your group. Though, there were many campers who took one pitiful look at the guys and decided they weren’t interested.

Their disinterest spoke volumes. These two had already caused more commotions this year than the previous one and September was still five weeks away. You let out a resigned sigh.

‘You know the two of you aren’t actually together?’ Yuta scoffed, the smirk in the corner of his mouth mocking as he was clearly trying to push Haechan’s buttons. ‘The Aphrodite girls were messing with your wine.’

The memories from last Sunday washed over you in way too vivid waves; the kiss you had shared with Haechan was something you had tried to ignore ever since you had woken up the next morning. You pressed your lips into a firm line to swallow back a careless comeback. You were afraid it might have caused more harm than good if you had admitted that you had enjoyed the soft touch of your best friend’s lips against your own.

‘I said apologise to her for pushing her into the altar on purpose,’ Haechan stood his ground, his appearance surprisingly level-headed, although for someone like you, who had known him over a decade, it was obvious that he was fuming inside. Unfortunately, Yuta had spent as many summers in Camp Half-Blood as the two of you if not more (you had never bothered to ask), so he saw right through Hermes’ son.

‘You’re not my boss. If anything, you should be the one following my orders,’ Yuta retorted, chuckling with a wide smile to rile the other demigod up.

You took it as a sign to stand between the two, blocking the older’s line of sight as much as you could with your petite body. Why did Haechan have to grow so tall? When you had been eleven, you had been almost a head taller than him.

‘Like hell I would,’ your best friend spat, putting his hand on your shoulder before he slowly, gently pushed you behind his back. ‘Don’t make me kick your ass in front of all these kids. Because that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t apologise,’ Haechan claimed as he walked up to Yuta and poked his chest once, twice, three times.

‘My ass? Really? I will make you eat your words before you have the chance to pull your sword out of its sheath, baby boy,’ Yuta taunted and for the nth time since you had become a camp instructor, you wondered why you hadn’t quitted the moment you had realised Yuta and Haechan had also gotten the same position. Could you have been a masochist at heart?

Or an idiot, maybe. You should have dressed in a clown costume for Justin’s infamous party this Halloween.

‘It’s so on,’ Haechan exclaimed and the two were out the Dining Pavilion before you could have taken your first bite from your strawberry cupcake or said as much as:

‘That’s a very stupid idea.’

Not because you didn’t believe in your best friend - Haechan was surprisingly good with swords -, but because how else would you have described a deliberate one-on-one duel with one of Ares’ most ruthless sons. Haechan must have lost his mind to not see how idiotic of an idea it was. You swore he was the reason you were losing so much hair these days because of the constant stress he was putting you through.

Abandoning your lunch, you did grab two pieces of cupcakes before you ran after the idiots, which meant you made it in time to hear Haechan brag about his speed and those muscles he had indeed put on in the past years. Hell, he was so confident, for a second you believed he would defy all odds and teach Yuta a lesson.

Instead, he found himself on the ground in less than forty seconds; your heart skipped a beat and you forgot to breathe when the sword fell out of his hand. He looked so miserable. 

‘Yuta, that’s enough,’ you stood between the point of his sword and Haechan’s ass, flinching at the stinging feeling of the blade scratching your cheek. The cut was small enough to not faze your audience, but deep enough to draw blood, which was seriously annoying as you knew it would leave a scar. Your skin was too sensitive not to; you still had acne scars on your chin from months ago that hadn’t gone away.

Your staring contest with Yuta ended with the boy’s arm falling back by his side and a quiet apology that sounded more like a mockery than an actual display of worry and regret. It was fine with you, though. You hadn’t needed his apology to begin with.

You didn’t wait for the crowd to disperse; in spite of how common these disputes were in the camp, there were always a couple of spectators who lingered. You would have been careless to waste even just a couple of seconds on them when Haechan’s heavy breathing got more and more uneven. You had to act fast.

So you turned around and crouched down next to his body. The soothing balm you had made of herbs that grew in the forest surrounding the camp was in your hand in a blink of an eye. Being the daughter of the Greek god of healing (and poetry, music, knowledge and a dozen of random things people would have bragged about on their CVs these days) sure had its perks. After all, your talent with medicine might have been inherited. 

‘Next th… next time he will think th… twice before he’s rh… rude to you,’ your stupid best friend forced through his teeth, his smile pained but genuine, which made you feel conflicted and bothered. Hadn’t he realised yet that he had more than probably fractured his ribs? You didn’t have to take off his uniform to know the bruises on his chest were nasty. Yuta had made sure to make confetti out of his ugly, orange tee.

‘Sure he will,’ you mocked, sarcasm dripping from your retort, so that Haechan could feel your disapproval even if he missed your eye roll.

And no, you did NOT blush like a schoolgirl just because he had said that. Just because defending your honour was clearly more important to him than his own well-being. It wasn’t romantic. No, it was idiotic. He was an idiot.

But god, he was your idiot. And you loved him more than you let him in on.

the end.

[lynnuvo]

Hi I hope I’m not bothering you but I just finished reading the reenactment fanfics and I was wondering if you’d be open to make one about “Princess and the Frog” or “Mulan” those are the only films that I remember the character having a more “got get it/work for it” attitude and relate a lot to that plus the yans would be interesting to read (to me at least I mean it’s ur writing not mine) anyway thx for the attention hope u have a great day and keep writing awsome fics :>

From 👻 anon

Hello 👻anon! Thank you so much for the touching compliment! I was wondering which fairytale to do next, so I'm glad you suggested either of those. Although it's been a long while since I've watched Princess & The Frog, I'm going to try my hand at that one since I love the story. For those who prefer a male yandere, don't worry! I'm planning on writing another version of this fairytale for you ღ

.·:*¨ ✘- It Takes Two to Tango - ✘ ¨*:·.

Characters: Yan!Charlotte x Female (Y/N) in Tiana's role In which Charlotte intends to take the only desire she can't buy: her best friend

A Tale in the Baking

When you reincarnated into your new world, you were sleeping soundly in bed with a young, blonde girl who wore a frilly dress that scratched your skin. You were pretty confused and somewhat panicked about your predicament: your childlike appearance drastically contrasted from the mature adult life you've been leading. It wasn't until the end of the week that it finally dawned that you were in the middle of the fairytale "The Princess and the Frog."

Your father, James, had passed recently. Your mother, Eudora, shared his dream of owning a restaurant to you several times already as she reminisced her late husband. Of course, you provided as much comfort as you could. Charlotte visited your home every two days, more clingy than you remembered her being in the movie (likely due to the event).

Now, while you weren't aiming to follow exactly in the true protagonist's footsteps, the prospect of owning your own restaurant sparked a fire in your heart. It was ridiculously difficult to try to own even a car in your previous world. However, there was a key difference in that world and the current one: your family was close with the La Bouffs, the wealthy family Charlotte is from.

As you grew older, you became a confident young woman who didn't dare let a soul deceive her in any way. Because your relationship with Charlotte also grew, you vowed to never let anyone deceive her as well. She was veracious and at times ill-mannered, but you knew deep down that she was also naive. You weren't sure of what the true protagonist did outside of what was told in her tale, but it was your story now. So, you defended Charlotte at every corner & convinced her to tell you of any hardships she had--or of anything, really.

Who knew that such actions intended to protect her would ultimately backfire?

Lollygagging

Ever since she was little, Charlotte dreamed of a prince coming to rescue her from trouble. She'd ramble on and on about this dream to you, who listened to her oh so intently. As time passed, this dream took a different turn. She pondered about it often, twisting the idea in her palm left and right while guys fawned over her.

One night, her father came into her room and introduced an opportunity of a lifetime: to marry Prince Naveen of Maldonia. She was ecstatic and agreed right then and there. In that same week, however, she began having second thoughts.

She visited the restaurant you worked at alone soon after. Picking up her sour mood, you took your break early and sat with her at a table, inquiring whatever was the matter. For someone like her to display such an downcast face in public was a rarity. She told you about her worries. Was marrying Naveen the right choice? What if he wasn't as great of a prince as she hoped he would be? What if she wouldn't be happy after all?

After comforting her softly, you chuckled and cheerily reassured her that everything would be well. Marrying him would mean she'd have both her best friend and the prince in her life!

(You were really hoping they'd get married. On top of Charlotte's happiness, the prince would be a great advantage in your career.)

Charlotte left the restaurant with a laugh, but your support left her heart heavier than before.

At the masquerade ball hosted by her father in honor of Naveen's arrival, Charlotte escaped to your side at every chance. As much as you loved her, her constant presence was disrupting the anxiousness you were trying to keep down. The story had already started off on the wrong foot. Where Charlotte was meant to introduce her potential relationship with her father Big Daddy was instead Big Daddy stopping by to eat with one of his clients at your restaurant, sharing the exciting news.

Once Charlotte darted into the kitchen for the eighth time that night with another excuse to talk to you, you gripped her by the shoulders, instructed her to be a good host and tend to her guests, and to not search for you until the night concluded.

Charlotte hated how you pushed away--hated hated HATED it. But still, she'd do it for you. She'd do it because you trusted she'd listen.

In the meantime, you waited in Charlotte's room until a frog jumped onto your balcony. You already knew you were going to be outbid for the mill (just like how it was in the fairytale), so you weren't wasting any time crying over a destined lost investment. When Naveen in his frog form entered the home, you rolled his eyes at his request to help him find a princess and agreed as long as he married Charlotte regardless of whatever was to happen that night. He had no problem with that.

Lucky for you, knowledge from your past life would serve your career well. You told Naveen that because Big Daddy was crowned Mardi Gras king recently, Charlotte would be a princess. All you two needed to do was to wait for the party to end.

Barely Lovely Triangle

As you suspected, Charlotte came running up to you after the ball had concluded. She chided you with tears in her eyes for leaving her alone for so long. You apologized, saying you only wanted the best for her and the Prince and that you being there likely would've prevented any action from her towards him. She begrudgedly agreed before going on to share how wonderful the dance was. She'd never danced like a royal until that day.

You nodded and "uh huh"-ed and dropped compliments as she talked. Once she concluded, you asked her to please listen to what you were about to say. She guessed the matter had to be serious enough for you to possess such a tone, but she hadn't expect an explanation about the frog beside you.

She pointed at him, a corner of her lip lifted in uncertainty. "So he's a prince, the one I was just dancing with was a fake, so I have to kiss that him to bring the prince back?"

You nodded. "Yup. Do you believe me?"

"I....I do. But what's going to happen to the fake one?"

"He'll be exposed in no time. Please, Charlotte? For me?"

Oh, you know she can't resist any request if it's for you.

Naveen, truth be told, transformed right then and there, into a dashing human of royal blood. After talking about you three's lives for a little while, he bid farewell and wished to meet you and Charlotte again soon. Knowing better now, Naveen kept his distance from danger, and low and behold, Lawrence--the man who had disguised as Naveen with the help of an evil talisman--was arrested for fraud.

Surprisingly, that was the start of a friendship trio. You, Charlotte, and Naveen hung out together every now and then in different locations. Of course, you and Charlotte remained closer than ever, but you were relieved to at least have a breath of fresh air. You didn't really have that many friends in city because you were so engrossed in either work or plotting against a destined marriage you didn't want. You were especially glad that Charlotte and even her father weren't keen on getting Charlotte married as soon as possible. Maybe with how things turned out, you no longer needed to worry about the fairytale's plot.

Too bad Naveen eventually falls in love with you anyway.

His proposal came during one of those days where only two of the three in the group were hanging out together. He happened to stop by your restaurant as you finished your shift and offered to walk you home after stopping by another location. You accepted, but you later wished you didn't once the proposal at a beautiful park happened. You rejected him kindly and reminded him that he had a duty to fulfill, and that was marrying your friend. He apologized. You felt bad, but you weren't in love with the guy! Plus, you wanted that restaurant of yours more than anything in that world. No man was going to stop your dream.

You shared what happened the next day to Charlotte at her house. In contrast to the rant you expected from her, she was...eerily calm. She inquired about the person who has your heart, and to that you told her you didn't have anyone. She nodded and recommended you stay away from Naveen for a bit. Men can take rejection quite rough was the summary of her small spiel about men this and men that. And according to her recommendation (even though you were planning to anyway), you didn't pay Naveen's business any mind. He didn't come around as often.

Over the next couple weeks, Charlotte would visit your home more often to hangout. She'd bring up the topic of romance a couple of times, but your answer remained the same: your love was for her and the restaurant you wished to own.

You'd ask about her and the prince every now and then. Her answer was the same: she wasn't as sure about marrying him anymore.

Love is the Secret Ingredient

At last, Naveen's proposal came in the privacy of a beautiful park with a pavilion and crispy lake. He had set up a picnic for Charlotte and him. They chatted as they ate, and once they concluded their afternoon meal, he popped the question.

Although Charlotte had convinced herself for days that she must accept for her dear friend, she just couldn't.

"I'm sorry, but...I don't think I can do this."

To say Naveen was disappointed was an understatement. Not only did the real thief of his heart reject him, but his business partner and friend also did. Charlotte felt guilty, but imaging herself being stolen away from you was a nightmare! And imagining you being stolen from her.....

Without a proposal to the wealthiest family in the city, Naveen was lost. He had arranged the marriage with Big Daddy to combine their influential powers (Big Daddy's wealth & Naveen's royal title despite being casted out by his family). Luckily, you arranged for him to work with you--to start him on the path of someone in your class.

Charlotte, of course, hated it.

She got an earful from Big Daddy for her rejection, but she didn't care. He would soon lose interest in the proposal as well anyway. After all, she was a Daddy's girl, and he wanted her happy.

Charlotte walked you home almost every work day. Her constant attention made you worry for her own health, but she was a ray of sunshine around you. How hurt could she be?

Soon, Naveen stopped showing up to work. The manager told you that Naveen told him he had lost motivation to work and quit. You were stooped, but when you went to visit the hotel he's been staying at since coming to the city, the receptionist shared that he left two night ago.

Charlotte told you that he happened to overhear her talking about a wealthy friend she had in another city. She arranged for him to go meet and live with the friend at his request.

You scowled with a heavy heart. "Wow. He didn't even bother saying anything to me. How shallow."

Charlotte pouted. "Yeah! He dare he! Guess it's just back to us again, huh?"

You smiled. "Yeah. You get me, Charles."

Adoration flowed through her veins. She was worried you might catch some strange aura off of her, but she wasn't lying. The situation was just premeditated. Within a week, Naveen should arrive at the hotel Charlotte had pointed him to just to find out her friend (she gave her a fake name, of course) had already left that hotel present day's tomorrow. There was no way he could afford the trip back to New Orleans. His entire trip to get there was funded by Charlotte herself.

Two months passed before a letter arrived in your mailbox. The mill that you had lost during Charlotte's ball was bought from the previous owner, and the lawyer inquired if you still wanted the property. You didn't waste any time meeting with them. You intended to sign it over to yourself, but the lawyer suggested another property--one that was more spacious and had much more potential. He offered it at the same price, just as long as you took one or the other. You accepted the second option.

Charlotte was elated to see how thrilled you were. Because you used up most of your savings on signing over the new space, she offered to help renovate the place using her money with refusal for objects. She even asked if she could work for you whenever she had time! You couldn't help but be grateful for your dear friend. You were typically too busy for other friendships, but never too busy for Charlotte.

From then on, life was like a fairytale. You worked your butt off at your new restaurant and taught Charlotte the ins and outs of active involvement. She loved it. She loved working with you. She loved watching you negotiate with hagglers and host events to promote the place. Because you were often exhausted by the end of the day, she suggested (quite strongly) that you and your mom move into her home. It was safer that you come home with someone, and her house was so big, you'd have all the privacy you want!

(Don't expect much privacy from her, though).

Suitors weren't a rare occurrence. You became quite a sought after individual as your business grew. But Charlotte knew how you felt and ensured anything causing your stress was taken care of. You tell her everything, after all!

And of course, she tells you (almost) everything. No boy ever became a problem after Naveen. And like always, despite her new insecurities towards being involved in the "working" part of business, no one was to bring her down. For instance, Charlotte overheard an employee of yours discussing her lack of tack to a chef. She mumbled about it to you over dinner, asking if she was a burden to you. The next work day, the employee praised her progress more than twice in one shift.

One night, you both decided to have a sleepover in Charlotte's room. Trying on different dresses and watching movies had tired such pretty girls out. Laying in her bed, you brushed some blonde locks away from her gorgeous face. "You know Charles, these days, I feel like you're my only true friend."

Charlotte giggled and cuddled closer into your arms. "I'll always be silly. Even if the world crashed, we'll have each other to rely on. No one else!"

"You're absolutely right. No one else."

As she drifted off to sleep in your arms, you continued to brush her hair with a smile on your face. Running a restaurant was hard work, but gambling your luck on Charlotte was even harder. It was a relief she didn't reject Naveen due to affections for another guy. As long as you continued to open your arms out to her, you'll be fine, life would be bliss.

[justtwotired]

Whispers of the night - Lloyd Garmadon x F!reader

Part 1 - previous - next

Tag list: @beachcombers-boyfriend @cipheress-to-k-pop @whore-of-many-hot-men @bodieohbo @anyth1ngfor0urmoony @luvizuku

Your POV:

We got of off Lloyds dragon and I felt myself grow more nervous by the second. I was about to meet Lloyds mother and his Sensei.

About a week after I found out he was the green ninja, he told me about his dads passing, I had never seen him so vulnerable.

He had almost cried and I had hugged him, making him actually cry. We had sat like that for a few minutes, me holding him as he cried, slowly telling me how it happened.

It was that moment that he opened up to me more, telling me about events in his life. He even mentioned about being possessed one time, I think that was the worst, but he doesn’t talk about it much.

Flashback:

We where in my backyard, my parents and little brother where in the city so we had the house mostly to ourselves, if you ignored the two bodyguards and our two other staffmembers.

His head was resting in my lap while I read a true crime book. He had his eyes closed and for November, it was a pretty sunny day, making his blonde hair shine gold in the sunlight.

In my book, the main character was about to meet her boyfriend’s parents, which got me thinking.

“Hey, Lloyd?” I asked, making him open his eyes and look up at me with a small hum. “When am I going to meet your parents?” I wondered. “I mean you’ve already met mine,” I chuckled

His small smile fell slightly and he avoided eye contact. “I think my mom would love to meet you soon,” he said making a smile grow on my face. “But, my dad he uh… he died a few years back… we never really shared it with the media,” he admitted and my heart fell.

He had never told me that, not as the green ninja, not as Lloyd, as no one…

“Oh,” I breathed, “I’m so sorry,” I muttered as I combed a hand trough his blonde hair. As if on cue the sun had vanished.

“It’s fine,” he spoke and sat up, still avoiding looking at me, but I looked at him and saw him fighting the tears in his eyes. “It was a long time ago,”

“Even if it was a long time ago, it shouldn’t mean that you can’t grieve anymore,” I said and laid my hand on his. “May I ask what happened?” I asked and he lightly nodded.

“There was this guy, Master Chen, he owned the noodle house before Skylor,” he started and a small frown appeared on my face.

“The one that hosted the tournament of elements?” I asked and for the first time, his eyes shot up towards mine.

“You were there?” He asked with a small frown. “I don’t remember you being there,” he recalled, slightly looking away in thought.

“I wasn’t there,” I said, “but I was invited, I just didn’t go, I liked living without thinking much of my power, only using it for a laugh with my friends or training with my father,” I explained which got a small smile out of him.

“That’s clears it up,” he said and looked down at his lap. “Well I’m glad you weren’t there,” he admitted. “It was horrible, Chen was a bad person trying to steal our elemental powers to turn him and his goons into Anacondrai, which eventually worked,” he said and I gave him a horrified look, picturing the scenarios in which Sensei Garmadon could’ve passed.

Lloyd looked up at me for a second to see this look but when he noticed I didn’t have any additional comments, he continued. “The only way to get rid of them, was to open a gate to the cursed realm and sent Chen and his goons trough with the help of some banished Anacondrai generals, but someone had to offer themselves up, someone who sent the Anacondrai there in the first place,” he said and let out a shaky sigh.

“Your father,” I finished for him making him nod, swallowing thickly as he played a bit with his fingers. “He was a good man,”

I looked at Lloyd and took his hands in mine again making him look at me with tears in his eyes which he tried to blink away.

“You know it’s okay to cry, right?” I asked and with that, the first tears rolled down his cheeks. I opened my arms to invite him for a hug and he immediately put his arms around me and we sat there for a while,

He cried while I whispered reassuring things to him.

I looked around the monastery, it was really beautiful. There where beautiful blossom trees and and flowers around. It looked peaceful and I could hear a water stream somewhere nearby.

My mouth opened slightly in awe at the beauty of the place, taking it in and smelling the fresh air around.

“Are you coming?” Lloyd asked, taking my hand. I nodded and let him guide me to the door and trough the monastery that was just as beautiful on the inside.

We then entered a room where someone was hunched over some papers and another was busy with what looked like a huge computer. On the screens I looked at what seemed like the point of view of a security camera and Cole looking around somewhere.

“Lloyd, you’re back,” I looked at a woman with ginger hair and a smile painted on her face, hugging Lloyd tightly.

He hugged her bag and then parted to face me. “Mom, this is Y/n, my girlfriend,” he said gesturing to me and I was about to politely stick out my hand to shake hers, but she already pulled me into a hug.

“Y/n! Oh how great to meet you, look at you, so beautiful,” she put me at shoulders length, a huge smile on her red lips. “I am Lloyds mom, you can just call me Koko, or mom, whatever you want,” she said and hugged me again.

“Hi, thank you so much, it’s so nice to meet you too,” I said with a small laugh and Lloyd gave me the thumbs up and a wink, making me give him a look.

“Lloyd has told me so much about you, can’t seem to stop it, I’ve told him so many times to let me meet you, but he kept putting it off,” she waved a hand and my eyebrows went up as I looked at Lloyd.

“Has he?” I asked and he rolled his eyes while Koko led me to the table.

“She’s going to embarrass me more then the others already have!” He argued and I laughed. “Plus, I was afraid she’d scare you off,” he admitted.

“Scare me off? Lloyd, have you ever met Millie?” I asked and he chuckled. “Nothing scares me off,” I stated. “But do tell me all the embarrassing stories of Lloyds childhood, I am really interested,” I looked at Koko who already got stars in her eyes.

“Wu, stop being busy and come meet Lloyds girlfriend,” she ordered a man with a long white beard. I supposed this would be their sensei.

“Y/n hm?” He turned to me and stuck out his hand for me to shake, which I did. “My students have all told me a lot about you, it is nice to be able to meet you,” he said, with a kind smile.

“It is great to meet you to,” I said politely and let go of his hand.

“Would you like some tea?” He asked, and I contemplated for a moment and looked at Lloyd who nodded encouragingly.

“Yeah, I’d love some tea actually,” I said and the man smiled approvingly.

“Good,” he mumbled before beginning to walk away. “I will be right back,” he told us and left the room.

“Don’t mind him, but if you turn down his tea, he will see that as a red flag,” Lloyd said making his mother chuckle.

“I’ll remember that one,” I said with a grin.

It wasn’t my intention to stay as long as I did, I was about to go, really, but then the others came in and we had fun and then Cole came back and we where all teasing him for liking Luna… time flew by.

“I really hink I have to go now,” I eventually said looking at my phone for the time.

“Awe, really? We’re having so much fun, can’t you just sleep over?” Jay asked and I chuckled but shook my head.

“I don’t have my clothes or anything with me really, besides, I don’t know if my parents would be pleased. Especially my mom,” I said, a bit disappointed.

It was true, mom was still not really trustworthy of my surroundings, even though Allistor is locked up now and I’m safe, she’s still scared, which I understand, of course. Yet it restrains me from doing things like this…

“Oh, it’ll be fine, just borrow some of my stuff and tell your parents that you’re here,” Nya said and I frowned slightly.

I contemplated for a moment and looked at the others, “I don’t know what they would say when I tell them I’m at the monastery with the secret ninja force,” I said with a small laugh. “Even if greenie was my bodyguard,”

“Oh, but they know who I am, I don’t think they’d mind, and come on, they- or at least your father, knows sensei Wu, is it’s fine, really,” Lloyd said, making me think for a moment before smiling.

“Fine, I’ll ask if I can stay over,” I said and they cheered.

I quickly texted my mom as the others already started getting things ready for a movie we could watch.

You

Hey, mom

I know it’s late, but I’m currently at the monastery with Lloyd and the other ninja and they ask if I want to sleep over, can I?

Mother dearest

Hi hunny, it’s fine, you don’t have school after all, but please be back before dinner tomorrow.

You

Will do, thank you so much

Love you mom

Mother dearest

I love you to, honey.

I put down my phone to see all the others staring at me with hopeful eyes.

“She said yes,” I announced and they all cheered once again and Jay hugged my tightly in excitement.

We watched the movie, after that I baked some cookies with Zane while the others played video games and we all ate them with some tea before going to bed.

I slept in Lloyds room, which did make me a bit flustered, but I’d live with it. He leant me a big t-shirt and some sweats I can sleep in while Nya already gave me some clothes for the next morning.

I was combing my hair in Lloyds room while he was in the bathroom, I could hear him arguing with Cole and Jay about something making me chuckle.

After a while the arguing stopped and I let out a small sigh, god was I exhausted, it was four in the morning and I’d done a lot today.

Suddenly there where arms snaking around my waist and a head with blonde hair leant on my shoulder.

I had not heard Lloyd walking into the room, but he was a ninja, so I really shouldn’t be surprised.

Once again, his lips attached with my neck and he trailed kisses to my collarbone, making my breath hitch.

“Lloyd,” I murmured and he chuckled against my skin.

“In my memory you said we’d continue later,” he gave me a look and turned me around. “Isn’t this later?” He asked making me shake my head with a chuckle and pull him down by the collar of his shirt, kissing him till I felt my knees grow weak.

The next day I woke up with two arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I slowly cuddled closer to my sleeping boyfriend and was about to close my eyes again when his opened.

“Hmm, morning Princess,” he groaned. I smiled and leaned into his touch. “Morning, love,” I whispered and he kissed my forehead.

We laid there for a few moments in silence, enjoying the moment of quite.

Suddenly the door flew open and the both of us looked up to see a grinning Kai in the doorway. “Good morning love birds!” He greeted loudly. “It’s time to get up, Zane is making breakfast already!” He said and I groaned and let myself fall into the bed again.

“What? Did I interrupt or something? Where you a out to fuck?” Kai asked and crossed his arms. “You knowing you two are getting to that I think it’s time I explain-”

“Kai!” Lloyd interrupted him and Kai grinned at us while our faces where red as could be. “Get out,” Lloyd said and Kai was about to say something but left after receiving a stern glare from the both of us.

“Asshole,” I mumbled and Lloyd chuckled before kissing my forehead again and then getting out of bed.

“Nooo,” I whined and he chuckled when I grabbed his hand in attempt to pull it back. He leaned down, kissed me and left anyway.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 10

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

I am so stoked for this chapter! I've been really getting into the story to the point that I want to read multiple chapters per day (I COULD but I also want to be able to take notes- so I cannot realistically with the amount of hours in a day I have) BUT I will continue with one a day.

Normally I have hot drinks while reading, but I am dehydrated as fuck, so take this as your (mostly mine, but also your) reminder to drink some water.

Let's get into it!

Wait! Like three seconds in and we are starting off strong! How can Sha Hualing control Shen Qingqiu??? p213

Holy shit, even in his new body he's being poisoned. I suppose, theoretically, if there is a person who never gets poisoned, there must be a person, statistically, who always get's poisoned. p214

Shen Qingqiu (probably): if I had a dime for every time I had demonic blood poisoning me I would have two, and that's not a lot, but fucked up it happened twice. LOL

also Shen Qingqiu (probably at this point): "and this is how I was abducted and then became a qi sex slave for a half demon cultivator" p214

Omg also, the fact that Sha Hualing tried to plant a fake SQQ to try and appease Luo Binghe. RIP to her this time for almost (accidentally) doing it again. no wonder Luo Binghe is so pissed! pp216-217

Oh god. SQQ probably doesn't die here but it would be equally terrible and funny if after all of this, second body and all, like less than 2 days in, Luo Binghe just accidentally destroys SQQ. immediate end of story p217

Well- the system is now fixed! p220

and now shen qingqiu is wearing basically a veil, oh my. p222

(Okay unrelated but related to the veil, I desperately need some arranged marriage au's. I am so ready to read the heck out of this pairing when I'm done the books).

I have a sneaking suspicion that this man (SQQ) does a terrible job of hiding his identity. "he just had to be especially careful so Luo Binghe didn't discover that he'd pull off a great escape using the Son-Moon Dew Mushrooms". p222

He really needs a better name than peerless cucumber. LOL I can't every time he introduces himself. p223

oh no, baby Luo Binghe has been mourning this entire time. p224

You know what, I'm not even mad that Little Palace Mistress is in this awful state, she is a vile character that has not grown on me at all. p226

Yeah Shen Qingqiu he definitely did not end up with any of the women because he has been super mourning for you my guy. (not that he knows this because he is oblivious af) pp228-229

Oh. My. God. This man really thinks that Luo BInghe is asexual. I can't wait till he finds out. LOL p230

Oooo! Another dream realm sequence p231

oh and we have two SQQ's (again I need this fanfiction)

aaaaaah luo binghe has clocked the real SQQ p236

Okay okay, he thinks this SQQ is part of the dream and does not know he is indeed the real deal. thank fuck for SQQ's sake I guess p236-237

Oop. now this guys is "yes and"ing Luo Binghe in the dream. Oh gosh I hope this ends alright. p237

The head pats! p238

OH MY GOD p239

DREAM REALM KISS??????!!!!!!!!!!!!! p239

(AHAHAAA his face in the art tho)

LOL the system p239

Bro just found out why Luo Binghe had no wives and is GOOPED. He really found out in the worst of ways for him ahahahahahahahah I am CACKLING p241

I truly don't know how these two end up together with SQQ not vibing at all. is it Stockholm syndrome? like I genuinely do not know how SQQ ends up realizing his emotions for this man.

SQQ is literally saved by the bell in this one. p242

Liu Qingge is here?!?!? has he been trying to avenge SQQ this entire time? p243

Ah, Fuck!

SO MANY THINGS HAPPENED.

We have a kiss, we have a SQQ now trying to be sneaky, I honestly don't know how this man is going to stay hidden- if at all.

And next chapter we have a showdown ?!?!?!?

[silent-stories]

The best babysitter

(Eddie Munson x F!reader)

That day, you were supposed to babysit your four-year-old cousin, Alice, but you'd completely forgotten that Max had asked you to help with a school project.

So, before you went to see Max, you left the kid with Eddie, saying you'd be back soon.

Eddie had been nervous all morning: he didn't have much experience with children and, knowing that many people thought he was scary, he was afraid she would get scared or started crying when she saw him.

"Alice, this is Eddie. He's a friend of mine. Eddie, this is Alice, my cousin." You introduced them leaving the kid in Eddie's arms, right out of his trailer.

He tried to hide the sigh of relief he let out when, holding her in his arms, she simply grabbed the pick attached to his necklace, played with it, turned it over in her little hands and looked at him curiously.

"Will you guys be okay?" You asked.

"Yeah, sure. Don't worry." He said as the little girl tugged at a strand of Eddie's curly hair, causing him to chuckle.

You thanked one last time and headed into the trailer in front of Eddie's to meet Max. Her project took longer than expected and after several hours, you went back to Eddie's trailer door, hoping everything went well.

You knocked hearing voices coming from inside but nobody opened the door. You lowered the handle, discovering that the door was not locked and you entered, to find yourself in front of one of the most wholesome scenes you'd ever witnessed.

Eddie and Alice were sitting on the floor, some books, pencils and markers scattered around them.

He was reading from a book a conversation between two characters, for the first he emitted a deep, low voice and for the second one more acute and high, making the little girl burst out laughing every time.

You closed the door behind you, without announcing your presence yet and you leaned against the wall observing the scene with a smile on your lips.

You noticed that there were two messy pigtails on the little girl's head. They weren't there when you brought her to Eddie so the only option was that he made them.

You giggled at the image that popped into your head. The tattoos on Eddie's arms had been colored in, probably with the markers on the floor, and there was pink nail polish on his nails. You wondered why the hell Eddie owned pink nail polish.

"Y/N!" The kid suddenly exclaimed, pointing at you.

Eddie turned to you. "Hey, you're just in time! We need the princess."

You joined them, sitting next to Eddie who offered you an amused smile. "I am already the ogre, the witch and the knight. Please be the princess."

You chuckled. "Okay."

"Finally the princess has graced us mere mortals with her presence!" He exclaimed theatrically, making Alice burst out laughing again.

"This is the moment when the knight declares his undying love to the princess, swearing allegiance to her until the end of his days!"

That was also the moment you realized you didn't just have a crush on your best friend; you were completely in love with him, but you didn't say anything yet.

There was a kingdom to save for the moment.

[irayoeywa]

seashells ✧

part two.

lo'ak sully x fem!metkayina!reader

warnings/notes - the characters are speaking na'vi unless stated otherwise, the gif is mine, border creds to shifterium.

< part one part three >

series masterlist main masterlist

the golden rays of the sun lit up the blue sky the next morning as you sat in your family's marui, eating slices of yovo fruit.

your mother cut a few more pieces of the yovo fruit before sitting the pieces in front of aolani.

"mawey, aolani.” you chuckled at the 9 year old that was hungrily devouring pieces of the fruit.

“she’s exceptionally hungry this morning because she barely ate her dinner last night.” your mother said, cutting more pieces of another yovo fruit for herself.

you took another bite of the pieces you cut for yourself, "why?"

"swallow your food before you speak y/n." your mother scolded before continuing, " but your sister was too busy showing us what she found yesterday morning. no matter how many times i tell her to stop bringing her seashells to dinner."

"sorry, i just really wanted to show daddy what i got." aolani said, wiping her mouth with her forearm. you shook your head, finishing the final piece of fruit.

"i should get going." you stood to your feet.

"where?" your mom asked.

"tsireya invited me to help them with the sully's today.” you answered. she nodded, "don't let your father find out."

since last night, your father's feelings about the sully family were very clear. so if he heard that his eldest daughter was helping said family adapt to their new living conditions, he definitely wouldn't be happy about it.

you nodded, "i know. i will see you later."

"be safe, ma 'ite."

"bye y/n!"

both your mother and younger sister said their goodbyes as you left the marui. soon after leaving your home, you were diving head first into the ocean with tsireya, aonung, and roxto with the sully's following in pursuit.

your body moved through the tepid water easily. as someone who was not only born in water but also swims every single day, it was more of a first nature rather than a second.

as you swam, you remembered the siblings that were following you. you maneuvered your body so that you were facing the 3 na'vi that were behind you, much closer to the surface. it was obvious that they lacked experience in this area due to the way their limbs were kind of floating around freely. not really showing much of a technique.

you tilted your head to the side, watching the 3 bodies swim to the top.

'swim together with us' tsireya signed beside you when the three sully’s looked at the four of you. they seemed confused by what tsireya said so you just beckoned for them to follow. they understood that and you were off again.

after about 2 minutes, you watched the three of them go up to the surface once again.

'what's wrong with them?' aonung signed, clearly confused on why they kept going back to the surface.

'they need air.' you signed.

'those guys are bad divers.' roxto signed.

'stop. they are learning.' tsireya signed and as usual, you and her were on the same side of things. after aonung dramatically threw his head back, the four of you swam to the surface to check on the others.

"are you alright?" tsireya was the first to ask.

"you're too fast. wait for us!" tuk exclaimed.

"just breathe." tsireya expressed.

neteyam, the oldest, was the next to speak, "we don't understand this finger talk, guys, we don't know what you're saying."

you shook your head, "don't worry about that, we will teach you."

"you guys are not good divers, maybe good at swinging from trees but-" aonung started to insult the trio but you immediately brought your hand up, smacking the back of his head, he turned to you with an offended look on his face to which you completely ignored.

"hey, where's kiri?" roxto suddenly asked. you suddenly realized you hadn't seen the short-haired girl since all of you started swimming.

"who?" aonung asked, confused. you internally groaned. you began to wonder why he even came if he was just going to be this way.

"kiri. their sister." you deadpanned. roxto announced that he would look for her while the rest of you moved on. as roxto dove back into the water, the group moved onto the next activity, which would be taming an ilu.

"these are ilu, if you want to live here, you have to ride." aonung explained after calling to the animals. this is the most serious and helpful he's been all day.

deciding to help the sully brothers first, tsireya walked over to neteyam which left you with lo'ak. you steadied the animal for him before turning to lo'ak who was watching you interact with the water creature.

"this should be easy for you." you said.

lo'ak tilted his head at your words, "why you say that?"

"well i imagine that taming an ikran is much harder." you shrugged. before lo'ak could either confirm to deny your statement, aonung yelled something out.

"let's see tree boy go!"

you rolled your eyes, wishing he would stop referring to the forest when talking about the sully's. you motioned for lo'ak to get on the animal which he did quickly.

the boy leaned back, grabbing his kuru and made tsaheylu with the ilu. your brightly colored eyes watched as his eyes closed, eyelashes brushing against his cheek. a deep breath made it's way from his throat, to his cheeks, and out his mouth as he and the creature got used to one another.

a moment later, the animal was no longer by your side as it swam forward. you and your other peers squatted down into the water to watch lo'ak. not even 10 seconds later the force of the water pulled the boy off of the ilu. aonung and his friends laughed, clearly enjoying lo'ak mess up and make a fool of himself in their eyes.

you let out a small chuckle when the ilu splashed lo'ak before swimming away. the laugh was replaced with a genuine smile when the taller boy walked back over to you.

"don't beat yourself up. i got pulled off of isla a few times when i first tamed her." you said when he stopped in front of you.

"isla?" lo'ak questioned.

"my ilu." you confirmed.

lo'ak nodded, "ah. but did that really happen or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

"no, i swear. i have a few scars from scraping my skin against the coral." you pulled your hair from one side, revealing the series of scars to the boy in front of you.

lo'ak's lips upturned slightly as he eyed the scars on your collarbone. he appreciated the little things that you were doing to make him comfortable with no adapting quickly.

"..so do you wanna try again?"

the rest of the afternoon went by smoothly. you were a little worried about being teacher material but you seemed to be doing pretty well.

you were now standing with tsireya while helping tuk feed her ilu pony. you handed the fish to tuk and she feed the animal. watching her react so positively made you smile.

"if you think this is cool, you should come with my sister and i. some mornings, we go to the other side of the beach and collect things."

tuk gasped as she looked at you, "can i?"

you nodded "yeah we're going tomorrow morning. you are welcome to come but ask your parents if that it's okay first."

"okay!" tuk exclaimed before she began softly petting the creature.

"y/n!"

you turned to see the source of who was calling your name. there you saw aolani standing on the netted pathway above the water.

"hey, aolani. this is tuk, she is almost your age. and tuk this is aolani, my little sister." you introduced the two girls to one another.

tuk waved and said hello, aolani returned the kind gesture.

"daddy is looking for you." aolani said when she turned her attention back to you. he must need you for something and aolani didn't want to tell her where you were.

"okay i'm coming." you said before turning to tsireya, "sorry, i have to go."

"no you're fine. i can take over from here." tsireya smiled.

"thanks. i'll see you later and hopefully i will see you tomorrow tuk." you bid your goodbyes before leaving and retreated home with aolani.

"friend? and who is this friend?" neytiri asked as she looked at her 7 year old daughter. the same 7 year old who had been babbling about a new friend the whole time the family was eating breakfast. she mentioned being invited to go beachcombing but her parents just wanted to be safe first.

"my new friend, y/n! she's super nice." tuk said, an innocent smile on her face.

"do you guys know a y/n?" jake asked his older children.

neteyam was the one to answer, "we know her. she helped lo'ak tame an ilu yesterday. she's nice."

"yeah she's cool." lo'ak added to the conversation and your credibility.

"alright tuk, you can go." neytiri spoke but before the small girl could celebrate, her father spoke up once again.

"but your brother has to go with you, to keep an eye on you."

"what? why do i have to go?" lo'ak groaned.

"because i need neteyam to keep an eye on you but he can't do that if he's with tuk. so you're both going, end of discussion." jake said. lo'ak rolled his eyes while neteyam had been silent the entire time. he was used to being told to watch after all his siblings so this didn't phase or surprise him. he happily stepped up to the plate whenever his parents asked him to do something, wanting to make them proud.

the walk to your marui was quiet. tuk was in her own world, bouncing along the woven walkway while her older brothers walked behind her. upon reaching your marui, they stopped at the entrance.

aolani, who was playing with one of her toys, looked up, seeing the three newcomers in her home.

“hi! i’m aolani.” the girl said she walked over to them.

the voice of your younger sister caused you to look up. you watched as both neteyam and lo’ak greeted the child and introduced themselves to her.

you stood to your feet and walked over, catching their attention.

“y/n!” tuk said excitedly. you smiled before bringing your hand to your forehead and bringing it down as a greeting. they all followed in pursuit.

tuk’s wandering eyes caught sight of the toy in aolani’s hand. it looked like a replica of the animal she was feeding the day prior. it reminded her of the ikran toy she brought with her.

“is that an ilu?” she asked aolani.

aolani nodded, “yeah! i made it. you wanna see my other ones?”

tuk nodded eagerly and the two walked over to aolani’s pile of toys. after they walked away you turned your attention to the brothers in the entrance of your home.

“soo, what are you two doing here?” you asked curiously.

“we wanted to accompany you-” neteyam started but lo’ak cut him off, “our dad forced us to come.”

you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at lo’ak’s bluntness.

“yeah, that sounds about right. but you don’t have to come. i can take them on my own.” you spoke. you didn’t know how long the sully family would be staying but you wanted their time among your people to be enjoyable. you didn't want them to be upset at spending an afternoon with you.

“it’s fine. we’re happy to come.” neteyam spoke before looking at lo’ak, “right?”

lo’ak rolled his eyes before giving a tight lipped smile.

you watched the interaction in amusement before smiling, “despite how fake that was, i appreciate the effort. girls let’s go."

you walked along the sandy beach with both lo’ak and neteyam on either side of you.

“how long have you been doing this?” neteyam asked.

“uh i started when i was aolani’s age and i’ve been going alone until aolani turned five, after that i started bringing her with me” you answered.

“so what do you guys look for?” lo’ak asked, swinging around a stick he found a while back.

“anything that washed up and looks cool. we usually find shells and sea glass.” you said as you bent down. you began lightly digging through the sand.

"neteyam! come look at this!" tuk exclaimed as her and aolani were looking at something in the sand. neteyam looked at lo’ak once more before walking over to his sister and her new friend.

you looked up from your spot to see what lo’ak was doing but the sunlight blinded your vision. you brought your hand up to block out the bright light. once your vision finally adjusted, you noticed that lo’ak was skillfully swinging around the same stick as he looked out at the ocean.

“maybe you should use that stick for something other than swinging.” you poked his calf with your finger.

lo’ak looked down at you, “i don’t think i’ll find anything.”

“just try.” you gestured towards the sand. he looked at you for a moment before sticking said stick into the sand. he moved around a few times before he felt something. after moving some sand out of the way, a beautiful seashell came into view.

you reached over and picked it up. it was a clam shell in a wonderful shade of blue. with a dopey smile, you held the shell up to lo’ak.

“told you.”

lo'ak playfully rolled his eyes, "okay you were right. what kind of shell is it?"

"i am always right so you better get used to it." you spoke while inspecting the shell, "and lucky for you, this is a blue clam shell."

lo'aks eyebrows furrowed in confusion. the hair that resided on his brow bone was very unusual for you. your whole life, you've only interacted with the metkayina clan and na'vi from the surrounding villages which have all looked similar to you.

now living with na'vi from a different area of the planet was something new and also living with someone who has physical traits of two different species. it is very fascinating to you. it reminded you that all beings can be different from one another.

“lucky? lucky how?” lo’ak asked as he squatted down beside you to hear an explanation.

“for us metkayina, blue is a symbol of trust and loyalty. while the clam shell can provide protection and safety. we sometimes give them to newcomers. even though you found it, it's like a gift from us to you. you trust us, we grant you safety." you explained before handing the shell to him.

lo’ak smiled faintly, taking the shell from your smaller fingers. the teenager then found himself both more intrigued and curious.

"so what do the other colors mean?"

taglist - @tsireyasluvr @miffysoo @yawnetu @navijean

had writers block for months but i think i'm back.

[thegirlfromgonewiththewind]

Hi, again. 👋

I found the post you were talking about. The stan's account was deactivated, but yeesh. 😬 Nice replies to them, btw.

The stan that bashed on me said I was being misogynistic, even though I'm a black woman who just wanted to see another black character get their chance to shine.

Hell, it's not just the shows and movies (I think this all started with Endgame). It's also the Steve Rogers musical too. I don't know if you know about it, but Disney made the musical real, and it really did Sam and Bucky dirty.

Sam isn't even in it. Maybe he was mentioned once, but the musical showed an image of Sam as Captain America. As for Bucky, his scene from CA:TFA, where he saved pre-serum Steve, was given to Peggy instead. Bucky was mentioned once, and the musical tried to justify Steve's ending from Endgame. All for this ship.

And, frankly, I don't hate Peggy, I'm just more annoyed that other characters get shoved aside as well as this great dynamic that Steve and Bucky had, while she and her ship with Steve has been getting propped up more and more. But, seeing some of your and the others' posts, I get why you guys don't like her.

Girl, don’t get me started on the abomination that was Rogers the musical. It could have been glorious, it had so much potential, but once again Bucky’s role in Steve’s story was given to Peggy, and Sam wasn’t even there!

I feel like Marvel feels the need to tone down Stucky or their friendship overall because it was just too powerful. We all remember the hashtag that begged Marvel to make Stucky Canon, #givecaptainamericaaboyfriend. They just couldn’t let it happen, not to a main and important character like Steve, god forbid. And so ever since civil war Stucky has always had little to no scenes together no matter how well established it was in previous projects. All their scenes and dynamic were given to Peggy, their friendship was toned down, Steve’s whole ending happened. It just feels like Stucky is so menacing to Marvel that the only way to stop us is by destroying Steve, Bucky and their relationship.

I mean, Steve is given no justice in his ending and in all the other projects he appeared in. Bucky went from a victim and prisoner of war to someone who must make amends for things that were beyond his control. And the depth of their friendship was toned down and reduced every time Peggy was involved. And then they wonder why many people in the fandom dislike Peggy or why the whole Rogers the musical initiative flopped the second it went beyond Hawkeye.

Like, even if you don’t ship Stucky you can tell that they care for each other, and you can tell there was a shift after people actually wanted Marvel to take action and do something about this dynamic. Steve can’t get even one episode as his own character because Peggy must be there. Bucky had more luck, but still… and let’s not even talk about Sam, his only appearance was as a zombie!

In another post of mine I ranted about how bothered I was that Peggy was inserted in the 1602 storyline, and i haven’t changed my mind. It would have been so nice to give Steve one episode about himself, about his dynamic with his best friend and about the relationship with himself and his fellow avengers. But no, Peggy must be there too, and for no good reason as well.

I feel like Marvel trying to erase pre-existing relationships to have Peggy shine only results in fans turning their back on Marvel and hiding in fanfiction or whatever piece of media that can actually bring justice to the characters. Once someone on Tumblr said “you gave us the characters, but once you mess them up they’re not yours anymore. You don’t understand and respect them, therefore you don’t deserve them.” and I couldn’t agree more, which is why I am currently reading and writing fanfiction rather than buying into everything marvel gives us.

Peggy was the love interest with more screen time even before what if and all that jazz, she had her own show! And I fear that the day Marvel will realize that pushing a reimagined Nazi turned Mary Sue into every single what if episode where she can fit instead of enhancing the characters that are actually relevant in-universe it will be too late.

Sorry about the rant, I get carried away when it’s about my boys lol

[skagheart]

Born to Die

hey, so, basically, i was writing this fanfiction called born to die based upon kurt cobain and an original character called nirvana lacey anhedönia and, well, i never finished it and i think i’ve lost the inspiration to. but, i still want it to see the light of day because i think it’s beautiful (sort of). so, here we are.

Gibson Girl.

1480 words.

July 6, 1981.

Aberdeen.

Washington.

[ You wanna… ]

Lovelace.

That’s what I’m fucking carving into my arm. With that oh-so-American size of the knife, the cut was deep and my handwriting as unhinged as it could be, probably and possibly worse than the cruel (upon me!) variety of forms it takes; like it was in my journal (I’ve always adored the copulation of the words probably and possibly as it tends so well to my seeming lack of sincerity and existential confusion), but worse, worse. Tingling all over I was in not an aroused, sexual way—but in the way it tingles when the high becomes scary, when the swirly faces start to scratch at you and when your belly feels scarily pregnant (everyone whom I know wants children; I wonder, am I sociopathic or a prophetess? Probably both, they’re primarily synonymous anyway). I knew so damnéd well I was addicted to this shit, the little, translucent, hallucinatory blotters (I prefer ’em trippy on both the outside and in, and pink; but I’m an addict! I’ll take whatever anyways) I get by shaking my ass to the guy whose name I do not wish to have my married brain clouded with. He still cut into my head like the knife that was working with all it’s effort and my inputs carving that v on my plump, ripe forearm. I was addicted as fuck; and I fucking loved it. At the very fucking least, I was pumping out poems like a heroine of the fifties. It’s what it was: the fifties had Sylvia Plath and the eighties had me. Downright iconic. The blood by now—I felt like a lamb, but I knew I was the dragon—was flooding my lap on which that forearm of mine was settled. I apologise if my writing, grammer, thoughts, anything else is fucked up in this or don’t make sense—I’m drugged up into Cloud Nineteen (ten blotters, two packs of Marlboro Reds over this evening).

I know I sound fucking insane and I probably am, and I treat myself to pain Virgin Mary couldn’t have dreamt off—but, I promise I’m not mean. Just a hard, excessive exterior and a tight, eager posterior in this dollhood of mine. Does that even make sense…? I don’t fucking know shit… “Ah, fuck…” I whispered with the most disappointing one I could muster when I fucked up the second l of Lovelace.

Lovelace, Lovelace… Great, I have to recall him.

The fucker who got me into this.

Norwegian trucker in India who was friends with my greaser pa, Norman Anhedönia, called Gibson Lovelace. The chap had forty years worth of oxygen wasted in his shallow breathing (he always breathed shallow, even when he came; I had noticed), a nine-incher monster of a dick, pedophilia, a drunkard wife and an obsession with me. I’d always been what Nabokovian terms would term nymphet, and I do say I’m split on it. I’m a shit daughter and a demon child, or am I? Maybe I’m just depressed and suicidal, or I’m fucking divine and the reincarnation of Eve meant to meet her Adam through a senseless act of violence upon myself (I didn’t know at the time, but I was fucking foreshadowing; go me.). Every girl needs a senseless act of violence properly upon herself but rarely upon the other to discover her one and only cult leader.

Anywho, Gibson led me into his truck away from my father who was too busy cleaning his shades listening to Elvis on the records: January of ’77, I was seven going to turn eight in the November of that year. He fucked me raw, smashed my head so hard into the steering wheel that I bled (I was questioning too much), kissed my cuts and made me promise I wouldn’t pick up a knife again but didn’t do shit about what I actually felt; he told me to stick my tongue out and placed this thin translucent sheet of pink from a little booklet he kept in his glovebox. And I decided that I loved it. I’m at fault, I’m at fault… Fuck Waheguru.

I’m finished. I squeezed my arm as hard as I could, the blood spraying over the marble floor (I had tucked the rug away; I can’t let Mumma see). My incisors with the utmost force to keep my vocal chords at bay dug into my chapped bottom lip and drew blood there too. It trickled down to my chin and came to nirvana at my lap resting amongst the other red molecules; it left a ferric taste on the tip of my tongue, slightly bitter and quite sweet. Bittersweet. Blood, blood, blood, blood, blood… Blood, everywhere. Gibson would’ve rubbed it all over my nipples and told me to lick it up like it was his sperm all over my asscheeks or, well, just cheeks. I did have quite big tits for an almost twelve-year-old, I must admit… I’ve always had more estrogen and my estrogen was also more sensitive: susceptible. Susceptible to manipulation, fuckery, religion, what not… Finally, I could fucking feel something except for the stimuli of my g-spot and the irritation in my nostrils that still blossomed when I chainsmoked indoors or that itching feeling in me when I go too much time without my LSD. I have this delusion that I only pump men good or pump out good stuff when I’m pumped on those little squares: He said that LSD would be good for me when I told him that I write; I’ve been pumpin’ poetry for my baby ever since. I hate children, and I sincerely wish that all babies die alongside their parents and the doctors and the nurses and the medical’s parents and me…

My disorders kicked in (Borderline Personality Disorder, majorly untreated) and I fucking panicked. After so much shit, I fucking panicked. Panicked. Jumping up almost to slam my head to the sink I was cutting up like ham under, I had to hold onto the sink to make myself stand actually. I slowly experienced my hand creep up to switch on the faucet (like Gibby did to the faucet in my eyes everytime he crossed my neurocircuitry) and my other arm (I’m right-handed) creep to wash the blood from Lovelace off. Thankfully, I had a few bottles of peroxide, a pack of Reds, a babydoll dress all set up, razor and men’s shaving cream, my skincare, makeup—all of that set up, and the shower prepped as well. Today, I was to die.

The same year as Gibson’s arrival to me, I spiralled and ended up flinging my curvy body down the roof of some pretentious hotel in Seattle. I didn’t die, unfortunately. Then, well, I was transferred to a crazy people place for four years until I got out in March of ’81 (this year!) equally, if not more, fucked up. I had glowed so much surrounded by my little hellspawns, my creatures... My paradise is dying in the arms of nobody. But, I couldn’t care when the blotters kicked in and helped my cerebrum in distorting so fucking shittily my face into some eldritch horror that passed the likes of werewolves mid-transformation and golems. I giggled manically at the twistings of my eyes into the hair and my ears into halo, my mouth stretched through the giggle was transmuted to the petrified image of a dog and a lady and what fucking not. Oh, I need my pen… Pen, pen, pen, pen,... pen!

The lad

I tried to write into the journal page I had kept open on the small settee of my bathroom that I had also made sure to drip some of my essence onto (not like that, pervs; the blood, I’m saying) but my mouth wouldn’t co-operate with my cerebellum or my cerebrum. The giggles just wouldn’t stop and they just got more and more distorted like guitars fitted into amps and amps and shredding. I fell back on the ground, it cushioned by my ass, and held my head in my arms, shaking my head as if to curate outside of my all the fogginess and to shake out of my trip. I wanted to write, write! Not whatever the fuck this was. My eyes were squeezed so hard, I was crying. And, I couldn’t fucking stop laughing like a shitshow.

“Oh, God, stop, stop, stop, just fucking stop…!” Hadn’t even realised I was sobbing but in that moment that epiphany hit me like a freight train (whatever the fuck a freight train is; I just picked up on the writing tool from whatever I read using this). My arm was still bleeding, smearing blood over my cheeks; my lip was still cut from my teeth, bleeding the smaller bits too; I was shaking like a fucking banyan leaf in the rainstorms of Wash.

• • •

Strangers.

5010 words.

July 6, 1981.

Aberdeen.

Washington.

[ Don’t talk to strangers, or you might fall in love ]

Even the isolation, deprave, and mesophilia of our fucked-up, Lacey, crazies hospital was better than this drenched, little town. What was better than any of those two fucking disasters, though, was my stance on the railway tracks. Sittin’ there like teke-teke, waitin’ for my gorgeous guts to be smashed over, destroyed, violated, clawed out by the grinders of the train. I’d never seen starry nights—the ladies at Lacey would never have enough testicles to let me watch a shooting star and hope that it crash into me, the fuckin’ meteorite. My years at Cawnpore already were quite less in number, and it eternally was too polluted for us to see something more than the dhruv star and a few other killers; I’d never seen starry nights. According to this astronomical magazine I picked up while the nurses took us out to the local stores of Lacey for us teenage girls to detoxify our battlefields for minds, today was a meteor shower and I was thoroughly intrigued by blazing space rocks in the skies, so I bluffed and fucked my way out of the hospital. My egg and sperm donors did not believe for a major nanosecond that I was cured. At two years of pained age, I was standing in the middle of the gray-like-me roads, conscious of the act; at four, I burnt my pierced earlobe on purpose, using the steam-fuelled iron to; at six, any blade I pranced upon would find it’s metallic way to scent the room in the aroma of my equally metally blood, I only wished for one to kiss those marks and draw about them, to be what the lyre was to Apollo; at eight, this curvy brain of mine finally snapped into her hemispheres and told me to fling my curvy body down the highest story of our hotel. At eight, my suppliers abandoned their Catholic mistake of a dolly into a mental hospital in my Americana birthplace, Lacey.

There, I morphed myself like the blesséd Phoenix, curse, profanity I am into The Mother. Mother Lace, Mother Nirvana, Messiah of thee, and the literary combo of Three. One of the only times I shall ever cherish are my years with those six girls… My girls: my loves, only ones who would ever succeed in enveloping me with so much heat that the outward exterior, the exoskeleton of middle fingers and catty hisses, melts into a puddle of rot beneath me and the inner delicacy of my wretched fragility and mortality is on display for all those mental fuckers to eat.

Needless to say…, I missed my bundle of little women, my packets of compressed, oppressed joy. So, I lay there longing with my arms stretched onward craving hiraeth in the Heavens—now that I look back, it never was hiraeth. I knew exactly what my home was: the browned mental hospital where I spent four formative years of my Jim Morrison's life in. I longed for the hug of my collected daughters, their soft digits brushing my hair as they softly inquired escape from the hellhole I promised to save them from. My girls... I loved them, like the mother they never received. I had promised, I had promised… I was a betrayer. What mother to those girls…

On instinct I experienced my hands reach to the crown of my head, relief coursing through my blood the moment a thorn stung me. Their entity had crafted for me a crown of thorns to relish me as their Lady and Saviour. I did feel blood seep from the pinch, but I stuck my finger between my lips and thrashed my tongue around, gazing at the dying glows of the starry night.

I pretended to be Jesus.

I am Judas, or am I?

I don’t even know what I’m writing. You’re hallucinating while interpreting strange symbols written left-to-right in lead and antimony compounds upon thin, delicate tablet-like structures made of tree sap, so I guess we two are never too far apart in our crazy.

Well, to them (my girls: Laine Jean Ray, Bonita Ana Dios, Aurora May-Belle Long, Theresa Midge Check, Verbena de Baïa Voisin, Margaret Sarah Check), I still remain Yeshua. Yet, I feel a wolf in lamb’s skin as myself; a panther in the throes of the night sky that I stare emptily, tearily, upon. I fake it so real, I am beyond fake (translation: you people are fucking dumb).

In my convulsing tubule of thoughts birthed by my cerebral quality, I failed in my life to notice movement, possibly a metre from me. I was laid over the railway track like a corpse, eyes empty yet body warm for no reason at all. It truly seems bizarre how the movement noticed me neither—maybe dissolved so much in the grief were they that they were as heady as me, as crazy as I! Trapped inside the fever dream of their own thoughts, vowed to never spit it out, bit tongues and summertimes spent in clawing bedsheets and clamping hands over the own lips so as to refrain from the awareness that might spread. That might say…: I am iron. I am usable, extremely so. Exploit me, as if you have not already. Though, I might have not warneth thou… I rot as vigorously as I am used, keep me out in the world and I will break down and become ash of myself. In the velvet night, a puff of air as a sigh crawled out of me, liquid dripping down the corneas of I, ruining not the night (this was to be, I planned to die today for fuck’s sake) but my precious mascara and eyeliner. Oh, how I worked on that lining to accentuate my inherited, unwanted, auto-appreciated felinity. I’d be the prettiest girl in the morgue.

Someday you will ache like I ache.

Anyhow, the shower from the atmosphere had concluded a few minutes prior. And, well, finally, the train I was waiting for to scramble and crumble my guts into nothing but wasted potential, like I already was, had arrived… Only, it arrived wrong. It ran over the steel beside me, beside us (counting in the movement I am). A severe monsoon bummer filled my chest, the void in my heart had been concealed tightly and packed with Lyssa, Eris, what not. I craved to screech at the tyrant Father for his sin, for his fucking disruptive mercy on me—I did not want mercy! I needed death to fuck me like his personal, unpaid, loyal servant-girl; I needed it violent! So, as soon as all registered in my voluminous cerebrum, I recoiled in my pose, resorting to the protection of a foetal position as I screamed out my sobs and muffled them by staining my shaved thighs with my lipstick and drool smelling of minty chew-gum that I chewed last minute, tears of brown-black from my mascara and liner, hitting my head against my knees and punching the bloody rails that I was once moonbathing over until I experienced my knuckles burn and bruise, actual slivers of blood peek through the skin. I continued then too, but was too passionate in my quiet wailing to keep up the aggression.

And, thence, I swiped my tears with my bleeding knuckles, unrealising in my little girl’s misery of the fact, and smeared blood over my eyes and mascara over my blood. By some distance, I could hear some twigs crunching, maybe it was the movement I hadn’t noticed beforehand. When I did notice in that current moment, fear struck my gut like Cupid’s arrow when I had seen Priscilla Presley for the first time in forever. Naturally, a response occurred within the fatty mass of electric muscle in my head and I recoiled within myself, burying my face in my knees that I had pulled to my tits, only my eyes blinking up like a defensing cat—if I had been a cat, my pupils would have shrunken to that reptilian, creepy glare. I saw that the thing was lighting a cigarette, my cravings relit alongside (the appearance of the thing was half-revealed in the dim spark).

Stupidly as I ever could be, I murmured from my coil, “Do you have a light?” However softly I did speak, the boy did hear because it was the death of the night in wherever we were, the railroad was as quiet as could be with the crickets around chirping and inaudible bats may or may not be sauntering about. Dim moonlight that I somedays worshipped (as a witch, I did) proved herself, and I saw him. The first predicament was that he’s cute: blond, ice eyes, hopeless swagger, shaky legs. He paused himself in his trek, and slowly but mildly clumsily, turned to see my form. Perhaps cold moonlight proved her importance to hallucinatory pages of dead sap’s inkéd words of feel-good love. Wow, fuck, I went overboard on there. So, he scrutinised me for a moment, squinting to gaze at me carefully.

I’ll never forget what came out of my future husband’s mouth the first time he spoke a single thing to me…: You look very pretty when you’re crying; tears suit you. I don’t think that I can emphasise the moan that was nearly to escape me at that very moment, it was a shockwave of whatever down my spine to my ladyness. My knees dropped to become flat, just legs, and I did acknowledge the gashes in my doll heart bleeding so vigorously, it matched my swallowed drool.

“You don’t mean that, you’re drunk.”

His honeyed voice, sort of scratchy as I observed he was pubescent and hormonal in his blue jeans, white striped shirt—walked into the room, you know you made my eyes burn!—and black-y jacket he kept open, pushed me to experience the yayo-type, giggly joy of his chuckle, he shook his head in amuséd denial of his drunkenness. He was poetic, he had a slur, he had his thin lips wrapped around a cigarette—shit, I needed them wrapped around mine… And, I loved it. Why the fuck was I enamoured? “You’re a hypocrite,” He paused for a moment, maintaining that smile. Two distinct holes, punctures in muscle, were noticed by thee truly, myself, at that very moment; I felt my ribcaged heart palpitate. “You’re bawling your eyes out here like Virgin Mary.”

“Oh, fuck me, that’s beautiful.” The moan that was slowly and gradually, steadily and irresistibly, mountaineering up my throat finally escaped in the form of this: *Oh, fuck me, that’s beautiful*. Which, I did mean—how could I not mean *this*? I’m not Lisa Rowe, you buzz (although I wish to be—have you not read the sheer charisma produced from the description Kaysen emits of her? She was definitely the prettiest girl in the morgue!).

Hands of his extended to mine, both, and I took them, shakingly wobbling from my psych-out. I felt drunk. As terror-inducin’ it seems, drugs had exhilarated me, no cock of a man who had money this nymphet had onlooked had been left out, I was such a La Lolita for my crazy desires—but I had never had a swig before. Smelling the booze off my falling, twisted guy as he pulled me up from my literal and mental death—I only knew that my heart was hitting at my sinews, she felt a depraved wanderlust. Some wanderlust it was to, like a man in a Prime Minister pose, mark that free, angel Earth mine with maybe a flag (a tattoo) or a hole (a lovebite), something, somewhat. I held onto his shoulders for both metaphorical and literal support, he held onto the curve of the lower back I possessed, though the fabric of his jackie didn’t benefit friction and he kept slipping his arm off accidentally because, one, he adorned too much weight on; two, the fabircs intermingled like our forms, the cheap satin and whatever the fuck his jacket was made of. “Why am I a hypocrite, though?” I finally asked this little blond dude what had been pestering me (I am not to blame for this worthy-of-disdain obsessiveness, I have Borderline Personality Disorder. I am Cool Girl: I am nothing in my soul if not obsessive) for how millennium long. His ocean eyes matched mine for a moment, and he seemed to think through for a momento before he permitted the giggle of a hyena break out of him: Because you’re pretty when you cry, and I’m not.

“Yes, you are.” No hesitation was laced through me, none of that unaware uncertainty that I usually experienced leaking through my tune when I comforted one of my girls—my girls...—and instead was there an ignorant stubbornness. I was always stubborn, but what the fuck? I, having registered in my still plush cerebrum that my crown of thorns (gifted to me by Laine specifically, although all the girls worked on it) had fallen like my Lucifer when I had risen, thence I bent to grab my status, injuring my already injured hand thus further as the thorns pierced and pricked into my skin. And, I didn’t even cry…

He recoiled almost physically at my olden compliment (remember the first dialogue of the previous paragraphed rambling?) and I was due a breakdown of my psyche in that very singular fraction of a minute when my man suddenly perked up, “I only have this cig,”, changing the subject. Yahweh, my knuckles burnt. I ohed a tiny bit, and chuckled, extending one of my quivering, weak limbs and bending to wrap my lipstickéd lips on the ass of that cigarette, same one he took a drag from not fifteen seconds ago. His Atlantic eyes widened for a twiddling momentous, and, possibly and probably in drunken stupor and marijuana heights of his death wish, he giggled—I physically felt my pupils dilate, what the fuck? Maybe it was the nicotine, maybe it was the aftershocks of my tiny-teeny mental breakdown on the rail, maybe it was hisself… Damn, I think I understood Grant so well in that miniscule moment: Heaven is a place on Earth with you.

The world was built for two.

Delusional, I was convinced that it was us two the moment he grabbed the cigarette from me for his chance, and he examined the matte, messy mark of my lip stamped on it.

With the dumbest smile he could muster in my damnéd opinion, this little, blond, territorial, underdeveloped man adjusted his lips on the exact place I had left my shine, suckling it like it was some part of me. He knew what he was doing, I could pluck it from the glitter in his pretty orbs that told me shit he’d never be able to spit out in our tragic, magic relationship of some thirteen years. We kissed in death like we kissed in that moment, he blew smoke into my mouth and I giggled, almost extracting the alcohol of his from the roof of his mouth as my tongue felt her way around. We parted for perhaps, well, a second (I don’t remember the details, I’m writing this after our wedding sex, 1988. We’re in our flight back to Olympia from Honolulu, and he’s sleeping on my tits), and rejoint as I adjusted the angle to kiss-fuck this virginal Cherub better. “Darling, is this your first?”, he nodded, responsive—to be frank, that was adorable...! I’m pretty sure I squeaked out of sheer kiddy excitement, squeezing the sides of his face (cheeks). My grip migrated to around his neck, form bent for he was teenier than I. I didn’t even know his name and we were kissing in the blue dark…

Parting, I only gazed into his oceanic gaze and breathlessly giggled, “Oh, wow, fuck,... That was…, yeah.” A grand total of seven partners (three females, four males) I had engaged in before this merman, and I had never felt myself stolen of breathe ever in my existence after a mere kiss. Possibly was it the intoxication, the nicotine fucking over my senses so that my taste buds tickled with the enriching experience of his glazed cavern, but was it not thrilling, oh Mary! I had enchanted outward the sweetest giggle, and he in his still stupor snuggled his head inside the curve of my shoulder and chest; he was only that much tall. I was not lanky in any aspect, neither I am still—on the flipside, truth is that my mother repeatedly insisted upon me to not drown in my head and force her to onlook, rather to go outside, soak some tan (I am racially brown, thence I don’t require a tan) and run some. I decline profusely, tangling in blankets again and writing what, if discovered, would have positively filed me into the South Sound Behavioral Hospital yet again for a term not of four years now but of God-knows-how-long.

Eventually, I figured: some other day, this nymph may or may not have only prolonged my life now, and I told myself it. By the railway roads were grasses uncared for (like most daughters were; the human was their mother and the stain’d, tall grasses were the lost), we decided unconsciously to sit by those and talk the dimlight of the night off the clouds, to dawn we conversed. As unbelievable as it may sound considering the turbulence not even Athena might have dreamt of that had plagued the twisty courses of my lifetime, I had not sipped upon the liver eater yet: alcohol! With my newfound darling, that was precisely what I did.

We were dwelling inside uncanny synchronisation with our acts: we looked around at the same time, fixated on the same piece of cement, reached to gasp one another’s hands the same moment. I didn’t flinch, neither did the blond darling. Which..., was quite, well, it was especially choking as I... Usually froze at contact of the physique from someone whom I loved. Around this time, with my drink-induced lover, it felt good.

We curled up by grass, against a gray boulder-like structure, perhaps a part of a rotten or demolished building of some sort, debris. There, I suckled upon the lengthy cancerstick and inquired like an owl: “Why were you here, anyway?” In a casual tone I did, as if it was something so normal that I was nonchalant. “Oh, y’know, to kill myself.” The answer delivered by this sweetness would dwelling in me a day or so afterward (take that very literally) was just as nonchalant, confirming the suspicion conjured by my despaired subconscious that he was just as heady as me, as crazy as me, someone who would rot along me like iron all the while fearing the rot, hiding from something murmuring within thyself and teetering about; aura as a nymphic call and melancholia as the default ring of the mood. GOD is a teenaged girl of grunge and glitter, and I am a doll (soulless, empty, pretty with no matter on the inside yet pretty from the back—it matched!).

“No, no, like, why?” I repeated with an accentuated tone and my regular gestures of hand and eye, “The reason you wanted to kill yourself. I don’t judge, promise.” I shrugged, chuckling a bit as I passed the miniature cancer to him for a drag. “Clearly.” He chuckled too, widening his eyes momentarily to allude to my appearance; as I remember it, that elicited out from me a little giggle. I mean, it was the factual; darling, not lying. A girl; a girl dressed in a pearly babydoll dress with lacy tights (opaque white-like, frilled, a bow on top of each, knee-high) and no footwear with mascara smeared down her face from a clear breakdown of her battlefield for mind, manic brown eyes with a grape-coloured lipstick on pouty heart-shaped lips, blood and dirt also staining her optic area due to her bleeding knuckles from which she punched the steel of the rails because the train did not run over her? Paired alongside the fresh wounds on display littered across that fatty arm of hers? Oh, she was a crazy chick—and I could tell that this little guy loved it. He loved my mania, he loved my blood, he loved my crazy, he loved everything that I loved about myself. Maybe it was his alcohol that urged him this way, but I loved him for he loved what he saw.

But is she pretty on the inside?

“Well,” I spaced back in with the thrill of his voice curling the air around us; I wish we were plunged into steel. Sound travels best in something like steel… What would his voice be in steel? The thought messaged down my spine a shiver. “’s mostly everything about my life. Wouldn’t say I’m addicted, but all I do these days is mope and get high, or drink. I’ve been this since last month. Last year, I saw this… This dead boy who hung himself in the woods. That really affected me, I think; I’ve got suicide genes.” He paused a bit, sighing as he was passed the smokestick again. I puckered up a bit and drew closer to his pretty face, rounding my lips out and pushing out a ring of cigarette smoke. On impulse, he stuck nose through the centre of the dissipating smoke ring which drew from me another giggle—he was just like me! I did that too! I’d never thought someone else would…? What the fuck is going on?

Taking a drag, he then resuméd: “My parents are divorced… I’m really embarrassed of that.” He added a bit hesitantly, I could gauge that he still felt the shame of it all; which perplexed me. A divorce is shameful? How so? It’s a fucking life decision… But, that’s okay because this little one was clearly less mature and emotionally developed than I, although that amount still was remarkable considering his physique and my presumé of his age (which I thought to be elder to me, but still not too much so). “Why?”

“I want my real family back. My dad promised me he wouldn’t remarry, and he fucking did; to a bitch nonetheless. I hate her and her children are so… Phoney…!” Humming at his hurt words, I was analysing him: eyes gliding over the pasty, smooth contours of his vanilla face; staring into the trench of his pupils surrounded by his ocean eyes as he passed back the almost dead cigarette to me. The guard he wore over his exterior again was forming as he read that I was reading him without contempt (he thought I was feeling that, but I was simply analysing him emotionlessly—as if he was a labrat and I was dissecting him to figure out the following: what the fuck is this little shit?). But, I got him before he leaned away or apologised: Don’t worry, go on. Say it. I hate my cousins too. He relaxed yet again, I could see his shoulders come down and he leaned into me again,. Our heads were almost leaning against each other’s, breathes intermixing with each intake and out. “Go on.” I repeated, tapping his knee to accentuate my point.

He snapped out of whatever daze (he was reading me too, perhaps; mentally dissecting my Barbie body too, perhaps) and his hand came to clasp mine. I bit back a giggle and a smile at the contact, he did notice the corner of my lips tilt upward so he took that as a positive for further lacing of his fingers with mine. I, now a bit assured in myself, squeezed his hand and nudged him again: go on.

“Right,” He chuckled, “So, well, I just feel… Alien. You know, when I was little, I used to look at the stars,” He pointed briefly to the stars that were shining above the both of us, “And imagine my real family because I just felt like I wasn’t from here, like I was from another planet. I think I like that feeling, I was homesick for a place that didn’t even exist. And, to be honest, you’re the only other alien I’ve met.” That made me giggle after I muttered hiraeth at the sentence spoken second to the last. I found in my nicotined mindscape that this… Theory, was almost verbatim of a theory I myself had gardened in my meadow for mind. “Y’know…! I felt like that too, still do actually. I just used different terms for it. I called whatever the fuck our species are Earth Angels, angels on Earth. I read somewhere once that a person with scars of cuts on their arms was called an angel by a kid, and I think I really internalised… That.”

He chuckled, “Your mind is divine, Pretty. Yeah, I think my family is also a reason in why… I want to kill myself, y’know?”

“Oh, absolutely. I love them so much so I do what they want and they hate me for every speck of originality; I don’t know if it’s my mental disorders or it’s my hormones, but every small inconvenience makes me wanna kill myself. I’m also a hater! I hate everything and I do nothing to change it which, admittedly, makes me an arsehole—but, fuck it.” We both had laughter crawling up our throats and I could tell it wasn’t actual laughter. Oh, no. It was mania, laughing not because it threatened to spill; laughing because you had nothing else to do. Like crazy people (I do think that I am insane, in some way, shape or form. But, I also think that I’m supersane. Who fucking knows? I think a lot, don’t I?).

The cigarette had gone out by now, I think I had stubbed it out by pressing to the moist ground after he had truly started opening the shells of himself, not wishing to be distracted by drugs when I had the most addictive and healthy sedative offering his lifestory to a little shit like me. “Well, what’s it for you? I haven’t ever seen… You around…” He slurred out as we jumped down from our maniacal, little, episodic bursts of sacrilege or insanity… Well, are they not synonyms?

“Ah, so, I just moved here about a… Maybe a few days ago? I think a week or so. I moved from Lacey, though I’m actually Indian. Well… It’s a fucked-up fairytale, really. My whole ancestry and family is the following: sexist, racist, extremist to Sikhism, religious, doomed, homophobic, transphobic, Islamophobic, very, very Indian. It’s only my grandmother who acknowledges the sexism floating between our family; she dreamt high and was ambition incarnate but her marriage to this horrible fucking man led her to be so oppressed she couldn't speak a word of English without being thoroughly taunted for it.” His face clearly contorted into a gnarly grimace, and I felt my nose start to itch and burn again remembering all this up… Never had I ever trauma-puked this well or been so comfortable vomiting it out to someone I did not know.

“’s just… Fuckin’ Hell. I can’t translate it into words, I can only feel.” Shaking my head in a paternal sort of disappointment (no matter how much I despise the fact, I am my father’s daughter; his copy of carbon) at my inability, I felt myself pulled in again… How? How was he doing this shit? Being so fucking kind? It made me anxious, admittedly. Why was he so kind? What did the fucker want?

I’m being too cynical. I wanted to cry; instead I accepted his tentative comfort and shoved my face into the nook of his neck, breathing down it like a vampire in the night. I had the purely feminine, feline urge to wrap myself around him like Sarin and never let go to slowly dissolve into him even if maggots eat us out. Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why…? For a few minutes I think, we stayed in that exact position, in a sort of silence that neutered my turmoil. His arms were gel onto my wounds, and I, terrified, readily crept in like the Dutch beetle on the elm.

“Don’t.” I eventually muttered out into the tender, pale, untouched flesh of temptation on his neck; I don’t know why I did it, don’t decipher or discover the root at all. What is a girl to do when offered love on a silver spoon when she only possesses a forked tongue of venom caused from licking slivers of love off a parental knife? I was a black, not racially but spiritually. I was corrupt, disgust, free-use trash for swollen cocks with zero semblance of any soul and only a pretty body. It’s my pretty power which is my ugly. I am disgusting… I sometimes feel the scorching need to cleanse myself, to face redemption, to hurry to salvation; and other days I revel in the hellfire of lust that would surround me once I am liberated of this uséd body.