#'' it's tuesday let's have a ten day celebration ''

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Not A Coincidence

Bradley Bradshaw x Penny’s niece!reader 3k words

summary: It’s not a coincidence that you turn up at the Hard Deck for a beach day. It’s not a coincidence either that you end up inside the bar all alone with Rooster. And after what happened on Tuesday, well...  

fair warning: allusions to smut. no smut in itself. 

a/n: this is my first bradley oneshot and i am so fucking scared imma fuck up but yknow. we’re vibing. also the jake slander in this is all fun and games. i love him. 

main piece to “Tuesday Night”, “ Rooster At 5, Bradley At Night" and “Take Me On A Joyride”, can be read seperately tho

top gun masterlist

You were early. Too early. Much too early, considering it was currently 10am and your shift began at 5pm. But here you were, sunglasses high on your nose, bikini on under a loose shirt, straw hat on your head, towel and sunscreen in your bag on the passenger seat. 

It wasn’t a concidence that you’d decided on coming early for a beach day. It was far from that, actually. And you hoped, prayed, begged that Penny wouldn’t let it slip, that she wouldn’t rat you out. Because if she did that, you were not sure you’d be able to handle the teasing that would follow. Of course she wouldn’t want anything bad for you - just a little push in the right direction, she’d call it, and smile that smile of hers that had you and Amelia giving each other the side-eye every time.

But you’d have to take that risk. 

Because you sure as hell weren’t missing out on this shit. 

And it was all Penny’s fault in the end anyway. Penny’s fault because she was here on a Thursday morning, Penny’s fault because she was sitting outside, Penny’s fault because she just had to send you a picture, didn’t she? God damn her. God damn her for being your aunt. God damn her for not sending you that picture earlier. 

You grabbed your keys a little too tightly as you turned off the ignition and pushed the door open and close again with a bit too much force. One deep breath. Then another. You needed to calm down. 

You didn’t bother with the front door - if you could save the time it’d take to find the keys in your bag, you absolutely would - instead walked around to the tables at the back. This side of the Hard Deck was hardly ten metres away from the beach, so the second you rounded the corner, you stood, frozen in spot, and watched the picture Penny had sent half an hour ago become reality. 

And reality was much better than the crappy photo in any and all ways imaginable. 

The squad was all shirtless, all greased up, running after two balls, tackling each other, sand sticking to every inch of exposed skin, sunglasses on and drenched in golden light. It was like a scene straight out of some summer rom-com - actually, no, it was pretty much like a scene coming straight out of some soft porn. Unfurling right in front of you. 

Oh, you were in trouble. 

Especially the moment anyone spotted you. And they would. They fucking would if you didn’t move it right about now. 

As quietly as you could - and as invisible as possible, which was harder - you walked up to Penny, keeping your eyes firmly planted on the aviators rolling around in the sand. You were pretty fucking sure nothing would ever top this moment right now. Thirteen of what had to be the most attractive people on the planet tan, sweaty and half-naked? Yeah, there was no way in hell it would ever be any better than this right here.

You only glanced away for a second to sit down next to Penny, to take a look at the blank Sudoku in front of her. You snorted. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one who dropped everything to get here”, you said, eyebrows raised, put your bag down next to you and looked back at the beach where Phoenix was just throwing her arms into the air to celebrate something you guessed was a good thing for her team. Hangman looked livid. 

“What can I say?”, she chuckled. “Even an old woman can enjoy some eye-candy sometimes.” 

“You’re saying ‘old’ like you actually are.” 

“Well-” 

She was going to argue, like she always did (you’d had this conversation a ton of times already), but before she could, Maverick came jogging up from the beach to a little chair he must’ve brought for himself. He waved in your general direction. You knew better than to think it was actually meant for the both of you - you were aware enough of the history of his ‘relationship’ with Penny to not be that arrogant. It always went the same: the two of them stumbling across each other every few years, with the exception of the half decade when she’d been married, they hooked up, they had a great time for some weeks, maybe even some months, then Maverick got himself into some kind of trouble and had to move across the country, leaving behind Penny and her broken heart. 

As he sat down to keep watching the game, you realised that you’d been spotted. Someone had noticed Mav’s wave, had seen not only Penny, but you too, and well, you were fucked now. You were fucked because it was Rooster who’d spotted you. Rooster who had a shit-eating grin on his face as he peeled his sunglasses off and made eye contact with you. Rooster who you knew was smart enough to connect the dots, to figure out that you being here wasn’t some coincidence. Rooster who probably realised you were checking his team out - checking him out - even all the way down the beach and through your sunglasses. 

But who could blame you? 

Hell, he looked gorgeous in his dumb Hawaiian shirts and jeans already, you weren’t particularly shocked that he looked even better without them. 

He waved at you. Waved at you to come over. To come join them. 

Within a few seconds, the rest of the aviators were catching onto his idea, were looking at you sitting there watching them, were following his example and waving at you to come down. You bit the inside of your cheek. 

You’d thought that if you were sneaky, careful enough, that you’d be able to just sit here and stare at them, watch them play, admire them for a while. Maybe pretend to read a book if they were to spot you after all. But, no, of course not. Of course Rooster had to demolish your little plan, crumble it up into nothing. Curse him. 

You sighed, but you knew the squad well enough by now to understand that you had lost. You had no choice but to do what they wanted you to do - they’d find a way to force you anyway if you didn’t do it willingly. 

Penny’s laughter in your ears, you got up and made your way down to the beach, arriving to a chorus of cheers that had you grinning and bowing. You could very well just play this off as some funny coincidence as long as Rooster kept his mouth shut. But with the way he was grinning at you, you were doubting he would for long. 

“I gotta admit I feel a little insulted that I wasn’t invited to your private beach-party”, you said, letting your eyes rake over Rooster with no concern whatsoever for being caught. You had sunglasses on. Nobody could prove you were doing a damn thing. And he was just too attractive for his own good, too attractive to ignore, too attractive not to look.  

“In our defense”, Phoenix said, still a little breathless from the game, and held both her hands up. “We didn’t know we were even having a beach-party.” 

“You didn’t even know?”, you asked. 

“Mav took us by surprise. Only told us this morning.” 

You snorted, interrupted before you could reply by a ball landing at your feet. 

“You playing, Junior?”, Jake shouted, making sure to flex his arms just short of ridiculously. If he weren’t Jake and you weren’t you, you’d probably be super into him, more turned on and less annoyed, but this way you just rolled your eyes and flipped him off. 

“First of all, Texas boy”, you yelled. “Quit calling me that or I’ll cut your fucking dick off. With some elementary school scissors as well because that’s all I’d need. And also, you know I hate sports, the mere fact that you’re suggesting I move any more than necessary is laughable.” 

You heard Phoenix and Rooster snicker as Jake laughed and threw you a sloppy salute. 

“Whatever ya say, Junior.” 

Junior. How you despised that goddamn nickname. Mainly because it didn’t make sense anyway - you weren’t even Penny’s daughter, you were her niece. They’d make more sense calling Amelia Junior. But no, it had caught on, and now you were just short of slapping people every time you heard it.

You turned back to Rooster, swallowing hard as you forced yourself to keep your eyes on his face this time. 

“I’ll get you guys some drinks”, you said, smile tugging at your lips. “If, that is, you’re allowed to drink.” 

“A drink won’t kill us”, Phoenix winked, and then hauled the ball from where it still lay at your feet and charged at Jake. 

You chuckled. There was a heavy silence hanging over you and Rooster even after half a second, your sunglasses protecting you from too much eye contact and him holding it effortlessly anyways.

“You look good”, he muttered, his voice low enough that you knew none of the others heard it. A shiver ran down your spine. Your throat went dry. God, why had you got yourself into this? You should’ve saved the pic, thanked Penny and stayed home. None of this complicated shit. But well, seemed as though you liked it complicated. 

“Do I?”, you asked quietly, barely suppressing a grin. He made an acknowledging sound that almost had you throwing caution into the fucking wind and pulling him in for a kiss just like that. 

“I think I could use a helping hand”, you said instead, voice sounding more breathless than it probably should. “You know, with the drinks.” 

His lip quirked up at that, the indication of a smile that you were much too familiar with already. You swallowed. This man should not have this effect on you. But he did, and well, who were you to argue with god’s gifts? 

“I’ve always got a free hand for you, sweetheart”, he chuckled, his fingertips dancing across your upper arm. You sucked in a breath. 

He’d flirted with you before, yes. But ever since Tuesday, he’d taken it up a notch. You’d have expected something like this from Hangman, surely, but not from Rooster. Sweet Rooster. 

Not so sweet after all. 

“You’re unbelievable”, you muttered, shaking your head and looking down (a mistake, in hindsight, because that meant you were staring right down at his abs) to escape his eyes on yours.

“What, you don’t like these hands?”, he asked with a grin, his finger snaking just below the hem of your sleeve before he pulled back, holding his hands up in front of you and turning them around - palm facing you, back facing you, palm facing you. You could’ve slapped him. 

The thing was that he had really fucking nice hands. And you didn’t usually notice that. But his were big, his fingers long, so goddamn perfect on your waist, your jaw - useful too, you could imagine. 

“I like those hands carrying the drinks out”, you quipped. “Think the guys can make do without you for a few minutes?” 

He didn’t even take a look at the squad before raising his eyebrows. 

“Sure they can.”

You couldn’t help the grin on your lips as you turned and walked up to the Hard Deck, passing by Penny (with that annoying smile that told you She knew, she knew, she knew), only leaning down to tell her you were getting the squad some drinks before you were pushing open the door, stepping behind the bar and getting out a tray. You set it down on the wooden bar top, put a bunch of shot glasses onto it and got out a bottle of vodka, only looking up when you heard Rooster laugh.

“And here I thought I was getting my hands dirty after all.” 

You snorted, resting your palms against the edge of the bar and leaning closer over to him. It was dark, light barely flooding in through the windows with the shades down, especially with your sunglasses on, and you really should have taken them off, but the sweet advantage of Rooster not knowing where you were looking was a bit too sweet to give up just yet. 

He looked good even in this dim light. One arm on the bar top, his face turned to you, his sunglasses still up high in his hair. Usually he’d hook them into his shirt, but - well, he wasn’t wearing one. A layer of sweat was covering his entire torso, droplets dripping down his neck. 

“You” - you pointed a finger at him - “are a cruel, cruel man.” 

He leaned just a bit closer, grin playing on his lips, and your breath caught in your throat as he raised a hand, prying your own sunglasses off of your face. Carefully, slowly, paying close attention to not hurting you. 

“Now is that good or bad?” 

He folded the glasses, put them down next to the tray and caught your gaze. For the first time today, you were actually looking at him. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip all on their own. If he knew about even half of the power he had over you, you were fucked. 

“Well for me”, you grinned, not daring to do anything but stare right back at him. “For me, that could be very good. Depending on what you define as good, Bradshaw.” 

“Would be beneficial if our definitions matched.” 

You let out a laugh and shook your head, finally breaking eye contact to turn around and get out another tray, another few glasses (bigger ones, this time) and a bottle of water. Drinks were well and all but the squad needed actual fluids in their systems that weren’t alcohol and as far as you knew them, they had not brought enough to even last them much more than a few hours.

“You’re a menace, Bradshaw, is what you are. And now help me get these drinks out.” 

You grabbed one tray, grabbed the bottle of vodka and maneuvered everything out from behind the bar, towards the door. Your pulse was a bit too quick, your breathing a bit too shallow, but you were fine considering what had just gone down. Considering you’d been in here alone with Bradley goddamn Bradshaw, the literal finest man on the whole planet, and had managed not to throw yourself at him. Even after what had happened Tuesday. Even after knowing just how heavenly he felt close to you. Even with how horribly obviously he’d been flirting today. 

You had hardly taken two steps away from the bar top when you were tugged back - an arm around your waist, the tray wobbling dangerously. You put the bottle of vodka down on the bar, hard, much too forcefully, to keep everything from clattering to the ground. You were good at your job, yes, but not even you could keep a tray of close to fifteen shot glasses safely on your arm when someone was purposefully tripping you up.

“Shit, you can’t just do that!”, you cursed, carefully steadying the tray and putting it down as well before you looked up at Rooster. He’d let go of you, but he didn’t seem guilty or regretful in the slightest, that grin still on his lips. 

“You really want to leave me here without making use of these hands?”, he muttered, so close to you now that you had to tilt your head back to look at him. You wanted to be mad at him. You so, so badly wanted to be. But he was making it way too hard. 

“With what those hands did already”, you hissed, poking a finger into his chest. “I don’t know if I want to find out whether the rest of what they can do is just as destructive.” 

He laughed, his hands back on your waist again suddenly, fingers splayed across your skin (the shirt was really, really thin after all and you felt like you were on fire wherever he touched you), pulling you flush against his front. Your palms came up to his chest to steady yourself and you sucked in a breath - sweaty skin beneath your fingertips, well-defined abs against your stomach. Most definitely god’s gift. Shit. 

“Changed your mind that quickly?”, he hummed, thumb tracing the hem of your bikini bottoms over your shirt. “Think I can recall you being very eager to find out two days ago.” 

“You kept track?”, you asked breathlessly, the question sarcastic but your tone - sadly - outing just how affected you were by all this. By his closeness, his touch, his words. Oh, you were down bad. He chuckled. 

“For such a pretty girl like you? Always.” 

He held you just a little tighter, pulled you just a little closer. You hadn’t thought it was possible. 

“Bradley”, you whispered, and something in his expression changed like a switch had been flicked in his mind. His fingertips dug into your hips. 

“Say that again.” 

You didn’t think your mind had ever been this absolutely blank as you looked at him, rolled his words around in your head, your lips parted and your eyes wide. 

“Bradley”, you repeated - had you ever said his name before? On Tuesday you’d kissed him, sure, but you’d both been tipsy and it had been 1am and you were pretty sure you’d called him ‘Roos’, even with his hands pinning you to his Bronco and your arms crossed behind his neck. “Kiss me again.” 

#top gun #top gun x reader #x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw

[lopez-richter-fangirl]

The Tin Can Bros have launched a kickstarter to celebrate their 10 year anniversary with SEVEN new projects, and they need our help!

Read on to find out how:

This is Brian Rosenthal, Corey Lubowich and Joey Richter

You may know them from Team Starkid, or you may know them from their own group the Tin Can Brothers (creators of projects such as Spies Are Forever and the Solve it Squad), formed in 2014. To celebrate 10 years, they’re raising a goal of $200k in order to stage seven projects

They’re currently a week into their campaign and have raised almost $50k with 675 backers. But they still have a way to go! And to help, we need to spread the word

TINLIGHTENMENT PROMO SCHEDULE:

Saturday 10th - The Great Debate

What is it?

A live comedy game show featuring Joey, Brian, Corey and special guests pitted against each other to win a debate. It gets silly!

How will I be able to see it?

Live shows in LA (and potentially other places!) throughout the year, digital tickets, and eventually some ‘episodes’ on youtube!

What can I share?

If you’ve been lucky enough to see past great debates on Patreon, talk about favourite topics and moments!

If you haven’t, share moments and clips from the first public great debate livestream happening on Thursday! (I think - if plans are changed then they’re doing a terrible job letting me help them)

Talk about guests! They talked about a Dropout crossover which I know people have been asking for with Starkid. I don’t know what that is but tell the people that do!

Tuesday 13th - Gross Prophets

What is it?

A brand new comedy musical featuring Joey, Brian and Lauren with music by Ali Gordon and Angela Parrish (shitty broadway! https://youtu.be/AZ-bOPiDqo8?si=F6guq3Pk_lOkCB5B)

How will I be able to see it?

Live shows (some workshop-y) in LA leading up to a run at the Adelaide Fringe, with digital tickets and eventual youtube release

What can I share?

We don’t know a whole lot about this project yet, but we do know it’s got a great cast and creative team - talk about those people!

That it’s going to Adelaide!! Australia is frequently in the top backing countries on kickstarters, and those people finally get a chance to see a TCB show live!

Theories on what the show might involve!

Saturday 17th - SIS at the Fringe

What is it?

An Edinburgh Fringe run of the fucked up Scooby Doo parody, with the original cast!

How will I be able to see it?

Live shows throughout the entire Edinburgh Fringe run in August, or a digital ticket!

What can I share?

This is an existing TCB property, so talk about what you love from the original! Share art, gifs, edits, anything!

That it’s going to Edinburgh! As above, UK fans have been desperate for this for ages, now’s our chance! Make sure people know about it!

Tuesday 20th - Spy Another Day LA and London

What is it?

A live concert screening (Hollywood Bowl meets Rocky Horror!) of Spies with most of the original cast for LA and TCB plus Lauren for London!

How will I be able to see it?

A live show in LA in Spring (likely April) with a digital ticket option, and a live show in London in early September following their SIS fringe run

What can I share?

Like with SIS, anything and everything you love about the original show! Angsty fics, art, memes, it’s all good

Joe Walker. To me personally he’s just A Guy, but some people are still shocked to be learning he’s doing a show again! Get those OG fans to support this!

That it’s going to London. I need Joey doing a passable to decent depending on how much he’s practiced English accent in London! And again, an opportunity for one of the highest backing cities to see them LIVE

Saturday 24th - TCBoB at 54 Below

What is it?

The songs from their musical This Could Be on Broadway in concert at 54 Below in New York City, with Joey, Brian, Lauren, Esther, Bryce and Clark, plus more performers to be announced!

How will I be able to see it?

Live in NYC in November, with a digital ticket option

What can I share?

The first workshop only got a digital ticket release but if you caught that, share favourite parts! And the soundtrack is available, so talk about how fucking good the songs are

The fact that it’s an opportunity for people to hear these songs live!

Tuesday 27th - Intelligent Life

What is it?

A reading of TCB’s queer sci-fi comedy TV pilot

How will I be able to see it?

Live in LA in early Summer, or by digital ticket

What can I share?

Like with Gross Prophets, this is a brand new (to us) project so we don’t know a lot! But we do know it’s gays in space! We love space gays

Remember, these are just ideas. Share anything you personally are excited for and think other people might be interested in! The aim is to make sure people are aware of these projects, what they entail and why they need to happen! Any other way you have of getting the word out about the projects and the campaign in general is valuable!!

Join our discord for more ways to help or to ask questions! https://discord.gg/4VNEBzpA

And if you’re hearing about all this for the first time, check out the campaign! https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/tincanbros/tinlightenment-world-tour

#i’ll probably share a lot of this info again when it comes to the promo days #cause this is a lot to read lmao #just wanted to get it all out there #tinlightenment #tin can bros #tin can brothers #tcb #starkid #team starkid

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running From The Flames {Epilogue 1/2}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: parenting - that should be a warning lmao, sexual themes

F1 Masterlist || Previous Chapter - Epilogue 2/2

There was only one word to describe my life and that word was: chaotic. That being said, I still wouldn’t change it for the world.

The family calendar on the fridge was completely full and colour coded so we could all see where we were needed on any given day. Even so, I still lost track of my husband or our kids at least once a week. 

“Sydney, honey, have you seen your father?” I asked the spitting image of Pierre who was in the race simulator. He was always in the machine, practising for his upcoming debut into Formula 4 now that he had turned 15 and could move up from karting. 

“Picking up Addie from the airport.” He barely looked away from the triplet of screens in front of him as he answered with all the attitude of a teenage boy being interrupted in life. “It’s on the fridge.”

I looked at the calendar and realised I was looking at the completely wrong day. “Shit.”

“Ha,” he laughed loudly as he navigated the virtual track of the Red Bull Ring. “You forgot.”

“I didn’t forget,” I said as I scanned over the correct day and saw I had a board meeting to prepare for tomorrow. “I just thought it was Tuesday today.”

“Whatever you say, maman. You can tell me I’m your favourite, I won’t say anything.”

“I don’t have a favourite, I love you all equally. Now, can you finish that game and go do your homework? You still need to pack your bag for the weekend too.”

Addie was coming home from London for the week, taking a little break from her own busy schedule, to watch Sydney’s first race with us in Austria. 

It had been difficult to let her leave home at 18 but she had worked hard to get a place in the Arsenal Women’s Under 21 team. I had left home at the same age and Pierre had left even earlier, so we were hardly the exemplary figures to deny her. All we could do was make sure she stayed safe and she knew she could call either of us 24/7 if she needed help. It was also never that long between visits, making plenty of stopovers in England as we travelled. 

The travelling for work was tiresome but so far we had yet to miss a football match on Saturday or a karting race on Sunday. It did help being our own bosses so Pierre and I could manage our schedule around the kids. He had been running Strauss Fashion for the better part of the last ten years, after Granny finally retired properly, while I had been the Chief Technical Officer at Alpine, which Grandpa had purchased. 

When Harry passed away three years ago I found myself suddenly thrust into the ownership of the team and though there were plenty of offers to sell it, I decided to take the leap of faith and see where the journey would take me. I hadn’t looked back and so far we had two Constructors' Championship wins with our seasoned pilots, Gabriele Minì and Oliver Bearman.

We had come so far, it was hard to believe until I saw the wisps of grey hairs among the dark strands. 

“Maman!” I was pulled from my reminiscence and looked at my watch to realise how quickly the afternoon had gotten away from me as Clare bounded through the front door and leapt into my arms. “Maman, look!”

Clare had been a wonderful surprise that completed our family two years ago. After Sydney’s unexpected and frightening early arrival Pierre had been reluctant to try for another child, though he had always wanted three. I thought maybe he would change his mind after the terrifying memory faded with time but then a few years passed, we both got caught up in work, and after that it seemed too hard to imagine returning to sleepless nights with a newborn. 

But, the universe had other plans for us. What I thought was a long-enduring hangover, after celebrating the rebranding of Alpine into Gasly Racing, actually turned out to be morning sickness. Those final weeks before her birth were stressful enough to send Pierre to his doctor for a vasectomy but thankfully her arrival went exactly to plan and he could breathe calmly once again. 

“Hello my Clare-bear, wow, you have another bracelet.” You quirked an eyebrow at Charles as he arrived with Clare’s backpack on his shoulder and her spare carseat under his arm. “Uncle Charles has absolutely spoiled you.”

“Of course. A princess deserves it,” he stated proudly as he placed her belongings down and nodded his head to the simulator. “Is he all ready for the big day?”

“He is, I’m not sure I am,” I admitted as I put Clare down and she immediately went to interrupt Sydney by climbing onto his lap mid-race. If it was anyone else they would have received an earful but he just paused the game and listened as she told him all about her day at Uncle Charles’ house. “God help me when he gets to Formula One, I think I’ll have to revert the car back to a slower predecessor for my own sanity.”

Charles laughed but I wasn’t completely joking. The cars were so much faster than they were when he and PIerre raced. Though the safety features improved along with the technology that made them rockets on wheels it was still difficult to imagine putting my little boy inside one and sending it off. 

“You could keep him as a reserve driver,” Charles offered before shaking his head at the thought and taking a seat at the kitchen island. “But he’s stubborn like his father, he’d just find another team to race for.”

“No way, I can at least trust my own team to keep him safe. Same goes for Marc.”

Charles chuckled at the mention of his son who at 8 years old he was already a junior karting champion. “He said someone called him Il Predestinato after his race last weekend.”

“Yikes, I’m sure they meant it in a good way.”

The front door opened again and Addie blew in with all the gusto of a tornado, whipping around the rooms to greet everyone before she was up the stairs to her old room. Entering a little more sedately was my husband, his arms laden with more suitcases than anyone needed for a week away, especially when she still had a wardrobe full of clothes upstairs. 

“You are lucky you only have sons,” Pierre said to Charles as he kicked the door closed behind him. “I don’t work out enough anymore to be carrying this shit.” 

He dropped the suitcases in front of the elevator and hit the call button rather than carrying them up the stairs before pushing them inside as the door opened. After a few bad winters, where not even the central heating could keep the aches of my bones at bay, Pierre had made the call for the elevator to be installed and it had been a godsend in moments like this when heavy items needed to make it to the floors above.

Sticking his head up the staircase he called out, “Addie, your entire life and everything but the kitchen sink is heading your way.”

“Thanks, dad!”

“What was that about?” I asked after he joined us in the kitchen while the coffee machine churned out our usual drinks. “I thought she outgrew the ‘I’m too cool to hangout with my parents’ phase.”

Pierre's lips pressed together and he took a seat next to Charles, picking up Clare who had left Sydney to return to his practice. “Elias.”

“Vettel?” Charles asked, his eyebrows lifting when Pierre nodded and pushed his mug away so Clare couldn’t reach the hot liquid.

“They have been out on a few dates, apparently. I’ll have to ask Davis about it, assuming he went with them, it’s not like it’s his job or anything. Did you know that?”

I shook my head at the news, cradling my mug in my hands as I leaned against the bench and wondered if she had ditched her bodyguard once again. “He’s a sweet boy from what I remember, much like his father.”

“I don’t like it. I don’t care who his dad is,” Pierre grumbled before repeating, “You are so lucky you only have sons, mate. Teenage girls are stressful.”

“Ah, but I have two boys who think it is funny to have a competition to see who can fart the loudest,” Charles said as he took a sip of his drink.

“I mean, that’s kind of funny,” Pierre said with a smirk.

Charles sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. “Not when one always pushes too hard to win.”

The sip I was taking went the wrong way and I spluttered as Pierre laughed, “It’s all shits and giggles, until someone giggles and shits.”

“To think my poor mother went through this too. Drives me insane, mate. Bet you’ve never had to worry about that?”

“Thankfully, no,” I answered after recovering from choking on coffee. “But it also wasn’t bad enough to stop you from having another.”

“And on that note, I should get going. Mia won’t let me back in the house if I don’t pick up her favourite carbonara on the way home.” He smiled as he thought of his wife’s pregnancy cravings. It was the same one she had when she was carrying Marc and Antonio so it came as no surprise at the gender reveal when the backyard was splattered with blue confetti. “Thank you for letting me borrow Clare.”

“Any time,” Pierre chuckled as he clapped his friend on the back. Charles had been busy reinstalling all the baby gates and safety locks in his home, despite the baby boy not even being born yet, and wanted a toddler to help test his craftsmanship. “I won’t complain about a little free babysitting.”

Charles placed his empty mug in the sink and before kissing the top of Clare’s thick wavy hair. “Bye petite chérie, I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“Bye Uncle Charles,” she said with a wave, but it sounded more like Unk Cha and made him laugh as he approached the simulator.

I saw Sydney pause the race and Charles crouched down beside him, sharing a few quiet words of encouragement for the upcoming debut race. I couldn’t help feeling incredibly lucky to be surrounded by so many supportive people and my smile grew as a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. 

I turned to meet his lips over my shoulder and the magnetism that attracted us was still evident even after 17 years. Of course, like any relationship, there had been times when stress led to arguments and I would find him hours later in a spare bed, wide awake because he couldn’t sleep without me beside him. Those fights never lasted long enough to even remember what they were about and forgiveness came easy.

I turned in my husband’s arms and draped mine around his neck to admire him. Pierre was truly like a fine wine. Age had made him even more handsome and the small wrinkles at the corners of his lips and eyes were a testament to a life that was full of smiles and laughter. 

“Addie said she’ll watch the kids tonight,” Pierre whispered in my ear as he gently swayed to the melodic tune of his voice and I hummed with contentment. “And I got us a table at L'Ambroisie. You’ve been working so hard I thought we could do with a night away, just the two of us.”

“You think I don’t know your game, baby,” I whispered back, all too aware Charles was still chatting with Sydney and imparting some real world advice. “Wine and dine, pretty words, a hotel room. There’s only one thing you want.”

His lips curled into a smile against my cheek. “You know me too well.”

“You would actually get a full night’s sleep if you put your foot down.”

Pierre looked over at Clare who had helped herself to a banana from the fruit bowl and as if sensing she had been caught she looked up with an innocent smile. “How can I tell her no when she looks like that?”

“Mhmm, and that’s why she keeps climbing into our bed. You are a big softy.”

His smirk was flirty and fun as his arms tightened around me, pulling our bodies flush together. His breath was hot on my neck as he hid his face in the curtain of my hair. “Not tonight, ma femme. Tonight you will see just how hard I can be.”

Pierre backed up with a smirk but not before he sucked at the sensitive skin above my racing pulse. He knew exactly what he was doing and the smugness showed as he whistled a little tune on his way to help Clare peel the banana.

Shaking my head, I made my way to the stairs and said goodbye to Charles with the message to remind Mia that our plans for a spa day had been booked - but that didn’t mean he could slack off from the ankle massages he was giving her each night. He gave an amused salut but I didn’t see it as I pressed the button for the elevator. He was well used to the reminders by now, it wasn’t his first rodeo.

Knowing my evening plans had changed I went to my office and shut the door to silence the music drifting down the hall from Addie’s room. As CEO of Gasly Racing there was an endless stream of paperwork to be checked and signed, especially with the new expansion plan for the factory about to break ground. On top of that were the invites to attend fundraisers or speeches to prepare for the various charities I was ambassador for such as Women's Refuge.

When I finally emerged with my inbox up to date I could hear the laughter of all my children from where they lounged in front of the tv and the sound never ceased to make me smile. I had missed the sound since Addie moved out because it was rare to have all five of us here at the same time and I was reluctant to leave even for just one night when it came time to pack an overnight bag.

“We are allowed one night away, mon amour,” Pierre said as he stepped into the master bedroom to see me hesitating to step inside the wardrobe. “You and me, no interruptions.”

I relaxed into his embrace and sighed as he brushed my hair over one shoulder before kissing my collar. “And what were you planning that was so important it couldn’t be interrupted?”

His chuckle sent a shiver of delight down my spine and his fingers trailed down my ribs to the hem of my shirt before they slipped underneath the material to caress the soft skin over my stomach. I had to take a shaky breath when his thumbs caught the waistband of my skirt and I held it as I waited for them to hook underneath.

His lips brushed the shell of my ear and my lips parted in anticipation of his dirty words. “To sleep.”

“Huh?” I blinked twice, peeking over my shoulder to see his green eyes sparkling with amusement. 

“To sleep. Why, what were you thinking?” He tried to look innocent but when he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and his hand slipped down beneath my skirt he let the truth show. “Did you want me to tell you how I am dying for a taste of you? How I can’t wait to have these sexy legs wrapped around me when I make love to you tonight? I don’t need to tell you, baby, I’ll show you.”

I knew he could feel how damp my panties were for him from the smirk on his face and I almost whimpered when he withdrew his hand from where I needed it. “Now pack your bag, and make it quick, I’m absolutely ravenous.”

I bit my lip at the depth of his tone and knew exactly what it was he was dying to taste. I didn’t even look at what I was packing, tossing the first items that touched my hands before he stopped me and grabbed one dress instead. 

“This one,” he said as he held a colourful sundress that I rarely wore anymore, a soft smile warming his eyes. “It’s my favourite.”

Click here for the final chapter. 🥺

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts @alwaysclassyeagle @dr3lover @adalynneva

#pierre gasly x poc!oc #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #running from the flames

[buniyaad]

August 26th - September 1st, 2024

Monday, August 26th - Rescue // Doppelgänger // First Time

Tuesday, August 27th - Moving in Together // Multiverse // Sex Accidents

Wednesday, August 28th - Scars & Disabilities // Ex's // Aftercare

Thursday, August 29th - Double Date // Phobias // Secret Rendezvous

Friday, August 30th - Superfam & Flashfam // Fourth World // Control

Saturday, August 31st - Realizations & Confessions // Only Lovers Left Alive // Fuck Nasty

Sunday, September 1st - People of Manchester, Alabama & The Ravers // Nightmares // Accidental Kink Discovery

Purpose?

Continuing to celebrate the BartKon Renaissance in the modern era. Since the ship has historically been a rarepair since its conception in the 1990's, this fanweek acts as both a way to celebrate the BartKon narrative in DC Comics, as well as engage new fans in our small yet mighty collective.

Why should we participate in this?

Because you like BartKon. Because you saw fanfiction and fanart and shitposts, and decided you wanted to see what's poppin' in the BartKonosphere. All creators are welcome. Our romcom lovers, the darkfic connoisseurs, and of course, our smut specialists.

So how does it work?

The release date for fanworks is from Monday, the 26th of August through Sunday, the 1st of September, 2024. 

You have four months to write, draw, and create fanworks. On top of fanfiction and fanart, we also encourage meta, essays, ship manifestos, playlists, and poetry.

This is also an opportunity for new fans to engage with an old ship with a robust body of work, hence why this fanweek is dedicated only to BartKon depicted in DC Comics from 1994-2024. This is not a YJ-centric week, nor it is a BartKon+third week, nor is it a my-ship-is-better-than-your-ship week. Please be courteous and treat each other with respect when engaging with fanworks and their creators. If you misbehave, I will be cursing you with ten thousand years of bad luck on top of car/train/transportation trouble every day for the rest of your life.

BartKon of ANY comic book universe is acceptable. If you want to spend the entire fanweek exploring Luthor-El and Bart because you love horrific love, then be my guest! If you want a crazed version of Bart to kidnap Kon from Gemworld, go for it! Let that imagination run WILD!!!

Both safe and not-safe-for-tunglr dot hell tropes are welcome. Just make sure that you post any Mature content on a landing page that doesn't restrict Mature content (like AO3). I don’t want anyone getting their blog banned. We cannot defeat our capitalist overlords, but we can definitely work around them.

This fanweek will not have a dedicated blog. These prompts are free for anyone to use. Because it is a non-traditional, non-monetized, and free-to-opt-in casual event, there will be no mods but moi, no advertising of paid services, and no ratings or participant restrictions. I will open a collection on AO3 in August for anyone who wants their work collated for this event.

In order to ensure that both creators and the audience are making informed decisions about what they engage with, all creators are encouraged to include triggers and any other squick warnings. 

Please utilize the read-more function for fanworks that are longer than 250 words. We're tryna read yer stories, not get spammed with a wall of text. Please Be Courteous.

And last but not least - if you are engaging with any of the fanworks, reblog, reblog, reblog! Share the work with your followers. Send all the love to the creators for crafting their masterpieces!!

What can I contribute?

Fanart (standalones, comic strips, etc.), fanfiction (one-shots, multichapter, etc.), fanmixes, gifsets, graphics, meme collections, fanvids, ship essays and meta, songifics, playlists, poetry, whatever your heart desires! Go wild!!!

Can I create/write not-safe-for-tunglr dot hell content?

Yes!!! All creators are encouraged to include triggers warnings, sub-genre specifications, and other warnings in their posts. I will not discourage you from writing your 16k Bart Goes Insane Over Kon fic, but please... Be Courteous and tag your fanworks appropriately so people can make an informed decision about what they're comfortable with engaging with.

What does (X) prompt mean?

Each day has three prompts!! You can either pick a prompt OR you can combine prompts in different ways. Although the prompts range from The Basics, to Things That Frighten The Barts and Kons, and end with They're Fucking Nasty in Cissie's Basement Because They Can't Afford a Motel, I challenge you to let your imagination take you where you want to go with each prompt!! If you want to explore all three in the same fanwork, then be my guest!! I will not stop you :'>

Mainstream Canon, Elsewords, and AU content is acceptable! Just make sure to stay within the comicsverse. We have SO MUCH BARTKON MADNESS IN THE COMICS, SO PLAY AROUND WITH OUR BEAUTIFUL CANON!!! Creativity is key! Have fun!!!

Can I crackship/multiship/harem/OT3/polyam the characters?

No. It's literally BartKon Week, Heart & Bones Edition. There's like six active fans left on this bitch of an earth. Don't do this to me :'<

Does this have a tag?

During release week, use the general “bartkon” and "konbart" tags to share your work with the wider BartKon fandom on tunglr. You can use whatever other tags you fancy. The best way to share, however, is to directly @ me so that I may reblog it.

I didn’t read a damn thing before this, Ava.

TL;DR: Nearly four months until the fanweek!!! For all fanwork creators out there, now’s the time to start thinking about what prompts you want to utilize for your creations. There are no creative restrictions, but I do ask that you follow these posting tips:

All fanfiction should be under a read-more.  

Not-safe-for-tunglr fanwork should be LINKED to whatever landing site the content is being hosted on (Twitter, AO3, etc). This includes both fanfiction and fanart. I don’t want your blog getting flagged bc tunglr hates gay people.

Provide content warnings for all triggers, squicks, and sub-genres. Unfortunately, in my ten odd years away from DC Comics, the fandom's seen a resurgence in puritanical behavior and tons of censorship and self-censorship. Please list content warnings on your work but do not be discouraged in sharing your work. If a fancop gets on your ass, block them. Please block as MANY as you can. They're like pests, they're always gonna be there, but their influence can be diminished by staunch blocking and reporting.

You can participate as much as you want!! Maybe you only wanna create for one day? Cool! Maybe you’re an overachieving corporate clown insomniac like myself, and wanna create for every day of the week? Go for it!!! 

The most important thing is to have fun :)

Closing Remarks

Like all my other events I host, this event, too, is entirely selfish. I've loved BartKon since I was a child when I was first introduced to it in the form of Bart/Clark on Smallville. Although I only recently came back to reading DC's mainline comics, BartKon still holds a special place in my heart even after all these years, and the few who still create and engage in their fanworks inspired me to host a little something-something for our small community.

Take your time, look through the prompts, and get your creative juices flowing! I will be sending out reminders until the go-live date.

For the people who showed interest during the initial interest check, I hope you're able to participate. To the people who hate me, your mom's a hoe. Thank you.

#bartkon #konbart #kon el #bart allen #superboy #impulse #dc comics #bartkon week #real talk #ava's ficcing adventures #superboy 1994 #impulse 1995 #young justice 1998 #young justice

[mydemonsdrivealimo]

Halloween (chapter 6)

Book: Open Heart

Chapter: 6/7

Character(s): Jensen Valentine (MC), April Smith (OC)

Rating: Teen

Words: 1186

Chapter Summary: A tense meal between Jensen and his mother

Lyrics:

I know that you fear that I'm wicked and weary

I know that you’re fearin' the end

But I only tell the truth when I'm sure that I'm lyin'

So I'm settin' sail once again

He glanced at the clock on the wall, the second hand ticking away at a record time. He made it there early—for probably the first time in his entire life—after Lenora, his foster mom, dropped him off at a semi-decent diner only a few blocks away from her house.

She asked a few times if he’d rather her stay, but he didn’t think that’d go too well. It was a miracle enough that they granted unsupervised visits. Though, he had a feeling his mom wasn’t too happy about it at all.

The last time he saw or spoke to her was the fifteen minute recess in his last hearing. She stopped on her lunch break, barely spoke two words to him, then left again. It had been over a month since. She had surely received a number of letters on the terms of their visits, considering that she had been ruled unfit to care for him, and this was their first allotted meeting time that she agreed to.

Outside, the sky was still gray but the snow had ceased. He had attended his new school for only two days before winter break, and now there were only a few left until he’d have to go back. They were having their new years celebration tomorrow night and he would be surprised if they let him stay up past 9:00 PM. 

He wanted to tell her about how they were. About how sterile their house felt, how his room was made for someone much younger than him, with a toy chest in the corner of the room decorated with classic kid’s toys and little pictures on the walls. 

Maybe he should leave out the nice bed with new sheets and blankets, built with a frame and box spring. And maybe the little basket of fruit sitting on their kitchen counter. And the fully stocked fridge, family photos on the walls, and the desk, beanbag, closet doors, and full dresser in his room. 

Maybe he just shouldn’t bring it up at all.

A waitress walked by and gestured with a pot of coffee. He shook his head no before checking the empty parking spots outside again. 

It had been another ten minutes and she still wasn’t there. Lenora was supposed to be back after an hour, and at this rate they wouldn’t be able to finish their food, even if it was done by then.

He picked at the napkin in front of him, pulling off little pieces and crumpling them up. Snacking on the little crackers in the basket in front of him, he finally heard her shuffle in, trying to take her coat off as the hostess led her in.

She settled in, shoving her coat and purse onto the chair next to her and giving the waitress a smile as she poured her a mug of decaf.

“Hi,” he said as she added her sugar and two creams. She hummed in reply, setting the garbage off to the side of the table, swapping it out for her menu.

He already picked what he wanted before she got there, waiting for her to choose before starting the conversation again.

“How has work been?”

“Oh, just great. The car stopped working again, so I couldn’t get there on Tuesday.”

He never really knew how to respond to her. He knew that things went wrong for her often, and maybe there weren’t many positive things to look for, but it was hard to come up with a response to only negative options. She kept going, talking about how shit work was and the people at work, as he quietly waited for her to be done.

Thankfully the waitress came around again before he had to say anything. They both ordered and sat in silence once again.

“So how are they? Your new parents?” she asked. It didn’t sound like it was in an accusational way, but it was hard to tell when he knew how good she was at hiding it.

“Fine. They’re kinda boring, but it’s okay.”

She gave him a look that told him to keep talking.

“There’s not a lot of color in their house. It looks like it’s a show house, I guess. And they have kinda boring jobs. It’s just not very exciting.”

“Well maybe you should be a little more grateful—raising a kid is fucking expensive, you know that.”

God, he couldn’t fucking tell if she was on his side or not. One minute she was shit talking with him, and the next she was ridiculing him for not being grateful, or appreciative, or thankful enough. Maybe he was reading into it too far, but he wished just once they could have a casual conversation without feeling like he had to worry about saying the wrong thing.

Their food got there and he was quick to start eating, both of them sitting in silence. It was usually like this. Most of the time their conversations couldn’t stay civil, so saying nothing was the safest option.

He thought she’d miss him. Even though it was easier for her—not worrying about getting him to school, not worrying about keeping them in a big enough space, not worrying about putting food on the table for both of them—he thought that maybe they could throw away the tension for one breakfast together. 

Something was wrong, though. He didn’t even try to call her in the last month when they were apart, too busy with his new school and new life to even make an attempt. He knew she was probably busy, too, but he couldn’t help but be upset that she didn’t make an attempt either. Even asking more than one question would’ve made it feel semi-normal. Maybe about his school, or what he had been up to, or what they did for the holidays. Even though it wasn’t much, it was better than nothing. It was better than pretending this was how he wanted her to react after not seeing him—truly seeing him—for two months.

But maybe it was wrong that he didn’t miss her as much as he should have, either. He probably should’ve felt bad for not calling—he did every once in a while—but at the same time, it was refreshing. It was refreshing to be away and stressed for different reasons; not ones that threatened his quality of life.

And even now, maybe he shouldn’t feel so bad. Sitting in silence across from her for a brunch she didn’t seem that she wanted to be at. Sitting in silence after two months of barely speaking, after being taken away from her. After a month in a juvenile detention center he shouldn’t have been at. After being made into a fucking spectacle in front of his peers, the community, for a crime that shouldn’t have even gotten him arrested but somehow his two best friends got off with nothing and he was made to look like a whole ass criminal. Where was she then? After years and years of struggle, you’d think getting out of it would be just the miracle they needed.

tagging: @jerzwriter @cariantha @kyra75 @gutsfics @inlocusmads @lilyoffandoms @choicesficwriterscreations

#jensen valentine #open heart #open heart mc

[signalhill-if]

The Veterinarian - Short Story

To celebrate Test Run going into early access, I'd like to share last month's short story with you folks. I'm also just really excited to share it in general. Here's how Doc met one of the other cast members... Word count: 1.6k

It was a warm Tuesday evening in mid-May, the light pushing its way in through the window was starting to wane, and a young veterinarian was manning the desk at his newly founded medical practice. A powder blue typewriter sat in front of him, its keys rhythmically striking the page as he typed. His handwriting was practically illegible- it wasn't something you needed to learn in order to set a broken leg or inject into a vein. And a photocopier was too expensive anyway. So his funding requests (charity requests, really) would have to be copied by hand, letter by letter, ten or twenty or fifty times.

Today was quiet- even with a price tag of free, not many people were aware of his practice. Sometimes there would be days of silence, with no patients in sight. But the monotony of the rapid thunks against paper was broken by a creaking sound on the other side of the room. The front door. Its hinges were rusty. This place used to be a butcher's shop before the raids drove it out of business. Nothing had been replaced, just scrubbed to within an inch of its life.

Emil's eyes flicked up from his work to watch the approach. The door swung slowly open, and a young man hobbled in from the warm wind outside. He cut an interesting figure- wobbling slightly on one leg, his body long and sinewy, his face mostly hidden by a shock of blonde hair. There was lipstick smeared down his chin. His outfit was mostly obscured by a rough-spun shawl draped over his shoulders, but under it Emil could see a hint of a red slip and fishnet stockings. The fact that he was wearing heels made his unsteady gait even worse.

"I'm afraid I'm a little worse for wear, doc," the man muttered. There was a nervous laughter under it all, like he couldn't contain his irreverence for even a moment. "You don't charge, right? I can't really afford it."

Standing up from his chair, Emil approached the limping man. His voice was tinged with concern. "What happened?"

"You should see how the other guy looks," the guy muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm... not doing so hot. I came here cause Tomas said you deal with people like us."

It had only been a few months, but the people had already started to blend out into stories. Remembering a single name like that would be like remembering a single letter of a novella. Context clues would be necessary. "People like who?" He rested a hand on the man's back to start leading him to one of the cots.

"Queers." Oh. The word coming from this man's stained lips was weighed down with baggage that Emil could sense but not understand. "Boys who wear dresses."

The young man allowed himself to be led over to the cot. His leg was certainly broken, though not badly. He had bruises forming on his arms and upper thighs, and one on the left side of his face. Not in any recognizable pattern, at least not without further inspection. He must have been beaten, kicked, maybe by a group. "What's your name?"

There was a pause before he responded. "Yvette." It was hard to tell if it was fake, or if he simply used enough of them that he had to pick which to use. Probably the last one.

As he lowered himself onto the bed, Yvette inhaled sharply and gripped the metal frame with an unsteady hand. "Jesus, doc, I think it's broken..."

"I think so too." Emil kneeled down next to him, his hands tentatively grazing against the fishnets. "I'll need you to remove the stockings, though. With minimal movement. I need to splint it so it will heal correctly."

"Oh my," he muttered, a smile flickering across his lips. The opportunity to jeer at Emil was overriding whatever pain he was in. Normally, I'd expect men to take me to dinner first! Or pay me, at least."

Emil clenched his jaw. He wasn't going to let this phase him. Not even as his cheeks flushed and he averted his eyes. He had to make this interaction normal at all costs. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened to you?"

"Sometimes when a guy sees a pretty girl, he just can't help but drag him into an alley and beat him half to death. Hormones." He said it with such nonchalance. This wasn't unexpected for him.

What was unexpected was the way Yvette hiked up his dress enough to start peeling the fishnets down his thighs. Not enough to be explicit, but a clear invitation. Look, if you'd like. Emil was sure to avert his eyes after catching a glimpse of red lace.

"I'll just be a moment... I need to fetch a splint." Standing up bolt straight, Emil rushed back to his office. Yes, that was where he kept most of his medical supplies. It was also an enclosed space away from this patient. And he needed that right now, if only for a moment.

Bracing his arm against the wall, he took a deep breath. His eyes caught his face in the mirror hanging on the wall. His cheeks and softly freckled nose were flushed, and a bit of sweat was accumulating on his brow. He'd been running this clinic for only a short while, and he felt utterly unprepared to deal with even the most remotely difficult of patients.

A deep breath. He ran his fingers through his crop of dark hair. Unphased. He was going to be unphased.

After collecting his supplies (and himself), Emil stepped back out into the clinic. The patient was reclining on his cot, the pain still evident but not nearly writhing in it like a lot of folks would be. Maybe on opiates? Such a thing wouldn't be uncommon with these lower-city genderfuck types. Take an upper to party, a downer to relax after all that partying, and another upper to keep from falling asleep... and on. Or maybe he was just really good at hiding it.

"You're lucky, the fracture is quite minimal. You'll be up on your feet again in just a few days." Emil quickly set to work wrapping tight cloth bandages around Yvette's leg, starting right at the ankle and moving upwards. "Until then, you shouldn't put too much weight on it or do any strenuous exercise."

"That's horrible," Yvette complained with a hint of a grin. "However will I live without my daily hikes? What about the weightlifting contest on Monday?" Lying there, half propped up on his arms, swimming in his shawl, he looked like a model out of a fancy old painting. Something you'd see on auction in one of those upscale shops in The Heights.

Soon, Emil had finished applying the splint. He ran his fingers over the handiwork, feeling the shape of Yvette's calf under his fingertips. And then he stood up. "That should heal well. I'm afraid there's very little I can do for the bruises, but you don't seem to have any other fractures."

"Thank you so much, doc." He overpronounced every word, holding out a dainty hand with chipped red nail polish. Beckoning. "Come here, let me thank you properly."

Reluctantly, Emil stepped closer. Close enough for Yvette to grab his wrist and pull him in all at once. In half a second he was leaning down with his hands planted on the frame and the cot, his face next to the patient's. The young man's lips grazed his cheek, leaving a delicate kiss. In a hushed tone he muttered, "I wish there was something I could do to repay you for helping me out like this..."

"I don't accept payment for my services." The flush was coming back to Emil's cheeks. He was trying desperately to stay professional.

Yvette's lips got even closer to Emil's ear as he muttered, "How about if you ever need my services, they're free of charge?"

Emil didn't need to question what kind of services he meant. He straightened up, his face hot. "If you need a place to stay while that leg heals... my beds are open until a higher-priority patient needs them." Both of them glanced around the room in unison, remembering that they were completely alone, with two other cots unoccupied.

The next few days were quiet as well. The practice was new, after all. There were periods of relative peace, and periods of intense business. In truth, Emil had hoped it would get busy once Yvette showed up. It didn't.

He wasn't quiet, either. They spoke about his concerns, about how money was tight and clients weren't going to be interested in him for weeks until the bruising got better. They spoke about the city they'd grown up in, how different everything was from their youth. They spoke about work, with Emil trying his hardest to pretend he wasn't interested in this particular topic. And they spoke about each other's bodies, a week or so later, lying next to each other in the warm embrace of Emil's bed.

Running his fingertips along Yvette's side, feeling the bone just under the skin of his hip, Emil muttered, "I don't know how you convinced me to do that. It should go without saying, but sleeping with a patient isn't very professional."

"It was inevitable," Yvette teased. "I always get what I want, doc."

"So what do you want now?"

Yvette paused for a moment, his eyes fluttering shut. His hair was splayed out on the pillow, his makeup still smudged and never removed. "Right now, I want a glass of wine, a massage, and a nice relaxing bubble bath. In the future... I'd like to be a friend, not a patient."

Sighing and letting himself sink down into the mattress, Emil muttered, "I guess if you always get what you want..."

#i hope y'all like this ahhhhhhhh #i wrote this over a month ago but i still love it so much #these two.......... good characters #short story #ch: doc #ch: yvette #signal hill

[howldean]

1, 3, 4, 11, 16 for the fandom asks

1. list 3 positive things about your current fandom — this is all on supernatural because of course it is. a) there’s so many people with niche skills, like we have incredible levels of meta, incredible artists and storytellers, and a literal jarchaeologist. what the hell this is genuinely incredible b) oh buddy it’s only monday. brother it’s ten am on a tuesday yesterday was tuesday but today is tuesday too. sparkle on its werewolf transgenderism wednesday. cas died on a thursday it was sunny. fingers in my mouth fitzgerald fuck of desitel friday. i always know the day of the week c) there are so many freaks i get to call my friends and i think it’s wonderful. everyone from point a can also be your friend. your buddy who gives you music recs and asks how you’re doing after a hard day or sends you a gift to celebrate recovering from surgery and coexists with you and sends you asks and treats you with kindness and love. for the hell of it. like damn

3. a character that fandom has helped you appreciate — ohhhhh rufus absolutely. i loved bobby and rufus’ dynamics from the start but input from others has helped me fall for so many of the side characters on a deeper level like. i probably wouldn’t have even become so much of a garthboy or a jimmyfucker if i didn’t have people that were right there with me in the derangement soup

4. say something nice about a ship you don't ship — i think sastiel girlies have so much fun amidst all the horrors and i love recreationally receiving sastiel posts even if i don’t live the lifestyle (said in the tone of a moderately conservative uncle trying to his best about the gays) the posts i see are like a hearty stew.

11. if you're a writer or artist, what fic or piece of art are you proud of making — i’m really proud of a wip i’ve been outlining this week. and my first blip into letting myself write in my preferred style with oh, baby.

16. a tiny detail in canon that you want more people to appreciate — this one’s a toughie because i forget literally everything ever. i don’t think watching dog dean afternoon counts as a “tiny” detail because it’s an entire episode but so many people skip it and it fundamentally reshapes dean’s relationship with dogs. so instead i’ll say that dean got a ged!!!!! he didn’t need to!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but he did!! just for himself

SEND ME FANDOM ASKS‼️

#askbox games #i feel like i have a better answer for 16 but all niche knowledge has evacuated my brain cavity

[tendaysoftenzo]

Prompt Discussion - Tenzo’s Med Ninja Check-Up | Naps

Ten Days of Tenzo 2023: Day 9 (Nov 9)

Each year, the prompts for Ten Days of Tenzo are open to your interpretation! We enjoy all the TDOT participation, and we wanted to give some ideas for how you could interpret each prompt.

Tenzo’s Med Ninja Check-Up

The data books suggest that anyone with Hashirama's cells has heightened healing abilities, so maybe Tenzo can also heal without the use of signs! Is he immediately getting his wounds closed, a la early Naruto? Can he grow a whole new tiny-hand-growing-into-average-sized hand to replace a lost one, a la Deadpool? Does he perplex or excite the medics when he goes to the hospital for a most-mission check-up?

Or, perhaps this prompt means to you that Tenzo is chatting with a medical ninja. Is Tsunade, who is vaguely his relative, adopting him as a child or as a twenty-six-year-old man? Are Tenzo and Shizune commiserating over their high-energy jobs? Is he chatting with Sakura about the difference between Hundred Healings and Mokuton Healing? There are so many medics that Tenzo could talk to!

Maybe Tenzo is going to attend his yearly physical, and there is some new health development! Does he need reading glasses? Is he lactose intolerant now? Does he have extra health energy somehow, like being a supertaster? Are there any updates to how he wants to celebrate Testosterone Tuesday?

Maybe Tenzo is the healer in this situation! Does he have a natural ability to heal other ninja, or is it a skill he's had to fight for? Can his healing be boosted with bijuu chakra, in the way his other techniques are? Does he having a healing conduit/summons, like Katsuyu? As our favourite helper, he could also be our favourite healer!

Naps

This one can be as straightforward as it sounds! Let Tenzo have some sleep. A nap in his own home, a vacation nap, a catnap (no pun intended) after training Naruto, a nap on a friend's shoulder, a nap in a cave whilst studying Sage jutsu, a nap in a field of flowers he himself has made. Let him be comfortable.

You could also bring in the concept of naptime for kids! Maybe Tenzo is babysitting Sarada or Inojin or Boruto (or all of them at once) and setting them down for naptime. Maybe he's running the Academy Pre-School for Baby Ninjas. Maybe you're representing Tenzo as a kid himself, getting the childhood he deserves, having a safe adult let Toddler Tenzo take a nap.

Maybe we're using another definition of nap, and discussing the directionality of surface of a fabric. Tenzo could be sewing a garment to follow the follow the nap. Or he could be playing the card game Nap, and trumping all of his competitor's hands. Be it sleeping, sewing or staking his bet, Tenzo can be sure to make the most of his skills!

Thank you to everyone who suggested a prompt, and to everyone who enjoys TDOT. These are just a few ideas! Feel free to get creative.

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[sunflowerharrington]

The Dating Plan (Part One)

-> Summary: Tonight was supposed to be the last night of Peter and Y/N’s agreement and the ultimate stunt to make his ex, Crystal, jealous. But as everyone said goodbye at their prom, why did it feel harder to say goodbye to something that wasn’t even close to being real?

-> Notes: I tried following the American high school system but as you can see I have no idea what I’m doing. In a universe where the Avengers and X-Men go to the same High School. Reader and Peter’s ages are 18/19 so this is legal. I also made up the ‘Ten Days’ movie mentioned, so if there’s actually one called that about fake dating please please let me know!

-> Word Count: 4.7K

-> Taglist: @quickiesgirl, @xxlangdon, @langdon-cumslut, @sympathyforher, @unlivingdreams, dm comment or put in my inbox if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

I wrote this to celebrate the fact that me and @quickiesgirl are both so awesome! Can you write something where Peter Maximoff and Reader are on a mission and they must fake date each other, but later that night in their hotel room, they share a bed, which leads to some smut? — Okay so I changed up your ask a little bit, it’s not exactly a real mission but it is and also not a hotel room. I tried the hotel room but it just wasn’t giving what needed to be given so… ALSO there is smut at the end.

enjoy babes!

Tonight would be the night. As you stood there in the ball gown that Peter’s mom had kindly bought for you, you knew tonight was the end of your little agreement with him. It was senior prom and Peter’s ex-girlfriend would be also going to the prom after moving away just shy of three months ago, while Peter had planned to make her, like, totally jealous by bringing you.

When the class clown and most popular boy in their highschool had approached you with the scheme a little while ago, maybe a few months or so, you thought it was a prank. I mean who would actually believe it? It was almost ridiculous to work out, but seeing how sad he was post-breakup with Crystal paired with her transferring the Tuesday after the winter ball, on top of you having a crush on him since the fourth grade you couldn’t help but agree.

The two of you were wildly different, and as you ran your hands down the crisp edges of the tailored outfit, you knew and realized you’d be a crease he’d steam out of his life after prom. But hey, at least the weather’s nice, right?

As you were trying your best not to get too nervous, you heard the voice of your beloved fake boyfriend in your mind.

“Hey, Peter,” you said as you adjusted your hair.

“Nearly ready? Can't wait to see my sexy side piece.”

“You know what a so-called sexy side-piece is, right?It’s a side chick, Peter.”

“Whatever. I’m on my way, be ready, my sweets.”

“Save the cheese for when I get there, you clown,” you laugh, hiding your internal groan. How were you able to put up with this for so long? It’s not like he had any genuine feelings for you. “Are you dressed?”

“Yup, you told me I need to be ready to leave in ten minutes.”

“Look at you not messing something up for once!”

“Oh, come on! Not my fault the wind blew away the roses I got you. I spent so much money on them!”

“Well, you shouldn’t have run with them in your hands!” You said, and you opened your mouth to speak, when he cut you off. “Stop distracting me, Y/N. That’s not what I called you for. It’s about… well… It’s about us.”

"Don't tell me Crystal knocked up to your house at the last second of the final hour before prom to ask for you back… "

"What?! I told you, I'm totally over her! This is just to rub it in her face…"

“Sure, sure.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible, Y/N.”

“You love it, though,” you say, fixing the watch on your wrist.

He’d groan, halfway between frustration and amusement. “This is serious! I heard from Wanda that Crystal and her date, Natasha, are planning a totally OTT entrance, so I made an arrangement and we’re not doing the limo anymore.”

“Uhh…okay? Pretty sure you can’t carry all of us so how are we gonna get there quickly?”

“So first of all I asked Vis, and Wanda was all like,” he cleared his throat, pitching his voice up, mimicking his sister. “Peter leave him alone, he's a cyborg, not a transformer!”

“I mean she’s kinda got a point there.”

“Anyways! The rest of the group are showing up in a limo and we’ll arrive in a magical carriage pulled by horses!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me… What are you? Five years old?”

Peter groaned from his bedroom again. “No, Y/N! This is my last hurrah at this school, I’m not just gonna leave it entering like everyone else. We’re going to be there in 15, be ready to be picked up and I’ll be your Prince Charming, alright?”

“Fine. Whatever you say, M’Lord.”

Peter would abruptly leave your thoughts as he fixed his own hair. He cleaned up quite nicely when he put a bit of effort in, as you would remind him countlessly throughout the night. And he hoped you would be able to drive Crystal a bit jealous by your appearance, even when you were in a hoodie and joggers, Crystal couldn’t hold out a candle to you in Peter’s eyes.

The horses clip-clopped and trotted slowly up the driveway to the venue. This was the most extra thing Peter had ever planned, and that was including when he egged the principal, Mr Xavier’s car for switching him out of your class towards the end of the first semester.

“I’m so excited,” you said, eagerly watching people begin to get their phones out to capture the moment. “It’s almost time, Peter. Just look like you’re in love with me.”

Letting out a sigh louder than intended, Peter would take your chin in his hands, watching as you flashed him a confused look before you remembered people were watching.

“My darling dearest… my dove… my schmoopsie poo. The Salt to my Pepper…” He said mockingly, amping up the cheese as much as he could as your eyes flickered to hide your inner dread for the night ahead.

“You make me siiiiick,” you muttered in a sarcastic sing-song tone.

“The feelings mutuuuaaal,” he cooed back, giving you an Eskimo kiss, and you scrunched your nose up in reply. You looked adorable.

The carriage finally stopped, a plethora of students watching in shock and awe as you and Peter stepped out from the carriage. You blinked in the bright lights as you stepped out, dressed to the nines in a gown similar to Cinderella’s. As rehearsed countless times you dramatically lose your slipper, the reflective heel falling a couple of feet away.

On cue, Peter got down on one knee and retrieved the heel, taking your calf in his right hand to slip the shoe back on your foot with his left. He smiled his dopey grin at you before getting to his feet, and you let out a scream as he picks you up in his arms, bridal style, and carries you into the venue to the sound of others cheering for their favourite couple. Their favourite not-so-real couple.

All eyes are on you and Peter as you enter the venue, cameras flashed all around them, but soon your attention would be taken up a notch by Jean Grey. The over the top journalist hopeful slash interviewer ‘extraordinaire’ who was the student editor of the newspaper. And her boyfriend, Scott, who was the cameraman.

"Oh. Em. GEE! Peter! Y/N! Can we please get a recording for the TV?! It'll be super quick, I promise!"

You sighed, but then as Peter took a hold of her shoulder, a cheeky grin spread on your face.

"Sure, Jean. Fire away!"

"Really?! Oh my gosh, thank you thank you thank you! It means the absolute wo-"

“That means a lot that you think that of us, hon, but can we please get our interview now?” You said, not wanting to sound impatient, but it slipped through. And you knew it did because Peter nudged your side as your camera ready smile fell for a second.

"Oops! Sorry, I totally blanked! Scott, quick!"

Her date and camera guy, Scott, raised his iPhone so that she could quickly interview you and Peter.

"Oh my gosh, hi besties! We are live, here at Xavier High's Class of 1991’s senior prom, and Y/N Y/L/N and Peter Maximoff just made THE entrance when they showed up in a pumpkin carriage like in Cinderella! These guys have been the best couple in the whole school since they got together, and tonight's entrance just might've been the cherry on top of our crazy last year together! So, Pete, tell me: how much does it mean that Y/N is your date tonight?! I mean, after all, we always thought your date to prom would end up being Crys—”

"I'm ready to have a great time with Y/N! She’s such a fluffy little peach, sometimes I don't know if I want to snog the face off her or… well… yeah that’s about it,” he chuckled.

You’d perfected your fake laugh, a natural blush flushing on your face as you thought of the most embarrassing thing you could to get your cheeks to flush.

"And y'know, I honestly don't think she'd regret it if she did either! After all, I’ve been told I’m the best kisser in school,” he'd say, winking to the camera.

"No one says that," you said, panic clear as day in your eyes. "Is that good enough?" You said, raising your eyebrows. Before Jean could respond, you took Peter’s hand and began to drag him away, before Peter turned back to the camera one last time as you two walked off.

"Shout out to the hottest, most sexy couple in school, by the way! Can you be a legend and check out how many followers our couples' page for the newspaper has?!"

The girl quickly retrieved her notepad, checking her statistics. "Oh for fuck sake... 69… Peter!"

Scott and Peter would share a look with each other.

"Nice!" Both boys exclaimed, laughing.

"Byeeee, have a nice night, you guys!" You, pulling Peter even harder as you rushed yourselves away from the couple. Once you’d broken away from the crowd and made it to a secluded section of the posh looking building, you released his hand and your eyes bulged with annoyance.

"What the hell were you doing back there?!"

"I was doing what I was always do... having a good time!"

"It was stupid, don't do it again. You could have flashed me!”

Peter rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore that comment.

"By the way,” you started. “We never worked out what I get out of the agreement, did we?"

"Are you kidding me? You got to show up to prom looking like a princess! You got to skip lunch with us for months and we took you to my favourite cafes and stores... oh, and not to mention, I convinced Felix Krazken to stop bothering you!" He recalled, it wasn’t like him to get pissed off, but this, this did just that.

“Listen, just pull it together, Maximoff! Both of us are to pull no more stunts! We're just going to wait, mingle, have some dinner or something and wait for Natasha to totally flop when it comes to trying to upstage you. Sounds good?"

"Your wish is my command," he muttered, as you lead him towards the group.

Soon before long, your “happy” couple arrived towards your table, where Peter’s friends, Jubilee and Ororo waited with their dates, Hank and Logan.

"Oh my gosh! You two look amazing," Jubilee said, her face lighting up seeing you and Peter. "That was quite the entrance!"

“Everyone was looking right at both of you!” Ororo exclaimed, holding onto Logan’s hand.

“Thanks, girls," Peter said, sitting down next to you, resting his hands in his lap. “You know I want the rundown. What's the latest on Natasha? Any sign of her?!"

"I've been looking for the last hour.” Jubilee exclaimed. “She's been gone completely since four o’clock! It's so unlike her! She’s always parading around town showing off her face.”

"Maybe she's not making a grand entrance after all?" Ororo offered, raising an eyebrow.

"No, of course she is," you scoffed, crossing your arms. "She just wants it to be a surprise. As if whatever she could come up with would be worth all the mystery." You breathed out, rubbing your temples. "All this snake watching has got me famished. Have you guys ordered yet?"

"Not yet," Hank chimed in. "We were waiting for you two!"

"My man!" Peter said, bumping fists with him. Hank and Peter got on because they were both a little odd compared to the rest of your usual friends. "Whattaya think, babycakes? Should we order shit fish dish #1 or shit fish dish #2?”

"It's not shit, it's called class. Not that you’d know anything about it," you corrected, and he laughed along. "But I'm feeling something light tonight. Leave some room for fruit punch and whatever we sweat out on the dance floor?"

"Another frilly salad? I know your stomach's aching for some real food."

"Sorry, P, but not all of us can eat like five-year-olds and not look worse for it. And as a matter of fact Twinkies don’t count as real food. Now, would you be a gent and get the server's attention?"

"Will do!"

Peter then took a hold of a drink glass next to him and unravelled his silverware, retrieving a spoon and banging it loudly against the glass!

"CAN WE GET SOME SERVICE OVER HERE PLEASE?!"

"No, not like that!" You shouted, mortified as Peter and Logan laughed. Even despite his best attempts, Hank let out a little chuckle, too. Noticing everyone watching you, you put on your best smile as you resisted the urge to yank Peter by the ear and throw him across the ballroom. “At least I said please!”

Taken aback, a server slowly made his way over to the table.

"Seems like it worked out!" Peter joked, a Cheshire grin directed at you, and your eyes widened.

"PETER, babes! Oh Em Gee! You will not believe what Crystal’s date, Natasha, just posted on the newsfeed," Jubilee said, nodding to Jean who had more than likely been in her thoughts keeping her updated. “Jean, please go into Y/N’s mind and give her a rundown.”

“Hello to the happy couple! Natasha’s makeup was destroyed by her tears and she said that she feels like shit and she just wants Crystal back! I think they broke up! On prom night!”

"Is she taking the fucking piss or..." you said, all of your features raised in shock. “Fuck, okay thanks Jean.”

You wouldn't have to wait much longer. Around the entrance, nosey prom goers would hoard around the entrance doors like there'd been a murder. As you and Jubilee hurried towards the commotion, a sullen Natasha had entered in a huff, her entire body shaking as she entered alone with Crystal nowhere in sight.

"No... no! This can't be happening!? My— Our plan..!" You crossed your arms and began to pace about as Peter walked up to you.

"Everything alright?"

"Natasha showed up without Crystal," you replied.

“She what?! Oh my god. I’m glad I’m not the only one she fucked over.”

You smile weakly. “I just feel bad for you, Pete…” You said, and soon a wide grin spread across his face. “What?”

“You called me Pete. You’ve never given me a nickname before!”

“And you didn’t let me finish, Peter,” you huffed.

After a moment of silence he finally spoke again. "Look, I know not everything is going how we both wanted, but we both have really hot dates, after all."

You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Don't do that."

"...do what?"

"Make sense. You're cuter when you're annoying and I can yell at you.”

Without any explanation, you walked off in a huff and Peter was left with a confused look on his face. Cute? Hot date? Was he just hearing things?

The dance was in full swing as everyone had finished their meals and made their way out onto the dance floor, fun vibes all around as purple, blue and pink lights danced around the ballroom. You had completely lost yourself in the rhythm, as you and Peter danced about with the rest of the squad. In this environment, it was easy to forget all that had gone wrong during highschool. Just to be there, present in the moment, for one last hurrah before you all went your separate ways.

It was good seeing you like this. Peter hated to admit it, but there would be few moments in the 'relationship' where you were a proper legend. There'd be moments where you were carefree, supportive of your friends, lovely to his sisters... It was mental... but it was the kind of mental that made him look forward to the next interaction where you would ramble on about your hopes, dreams and achievements. He had fun pushing your buttons. He felt like he learned a little bit more about people from being with you, you weren’t the girl that Peter thought you were. You were a beautiful, complicated mess. And that’s what he liked about you the most; and the fact that you were not perfect didn’t stop Peter from thinking you were perfect… Perfect to him. But once the clock struck midnight, his princess would disappear.

But that's what you both agreed. He couldn't be annoyed with that. If anything, he'd lucked out by not having to have an awkward interaction with Crystal and Natasha.

You broke away from the group, a bit winded after a few songs' worth of dancing. Peter followed you over to the table, as you parted a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Dead already? I thought this was your moment; surely you have more stamina than that," Peter teased.

"It's called giving it a rest. Something you obviously wouldn't know anything about," you teased back, sipping from your glass of ice cold water. "Besides, other than Money Money Money and Smells Like Teen Spirit, these songs are a bit shit. I dunno what this DJ was thinking."

"Yeah, they're not the greatest. I feel like you either get the DJ's that play exactly what we want to hear or play songs that they like regardless of what the event is," Peter replied. “And these vibes are not it.”

He looked over as your chin fell in the palm of your hand, your face showing that you were clearly lost in thought. "What's on your mind, peach?"

"Everything," you replied, shaking your head. "I'm just a bit shaken up. Like what was this all for, then? This thing I made you go through because this was all my idea to get back at Crystal for you. There was no payoff. Just months lost dragging you along when you could've been off finishing school with your weird friends and I could've been with mine."

"You think Jubs and Hank aren’t weird?"

"Fair," you scoffed. "But you know what I mean, right?"

"Yeah, I get you, but for what it's worth... I had fun being your fake boyfriend. Even if most of it was taking the piss, it wasn't all bad, right?”

"That's good, then," you said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “Yeah it wasn’t all bad, Speedy. You’re a good kid and I’m glad I got to be your fake girlfriend.”

"Now that it's... over, I guess," Peter chuckled. "Can you tell me: why did you offer to help me?"

You stifled a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand for a second. You only had one shot at it, one shot to get this right and not muck it up like Scott did the first time he tried confessing to Jean.

"You really wanna know why?"

"Yes, I do!"

You sighed, hands shaking and your stomach bundling with nerves, and Peter raised his perfect eyebrows at you waiting for you to say what you wanted to. “I… Um… I just wanted to know what it was like getting a piggyback from the fastest man alive.” Oh for FUCK SAKE, you blew it agai—

“I can tell that’s not the real reason. And what do you mean? I haven’t even given you one yet!” He chuckled, brushing his fingers against your arm as he caught a couple staring at the both of you, wanting to make it seem like you two were flirting, but goosebumps prickled in his fingers’ wake on your arm.

"Oh fiiiine! I was watching a movie with Wanda the day before you asked for my help and it was about this girl who wanted to make this guy’s ex-girlfriend jealous so they ended up fake dating for months until... Y’know…”

You both laughed, Peter shaking his head.

"Ten Days, right? And the guy’s name is Peter, right? And he and Liv—in’ La Vida Loca end up together in the end, don't they? We could be like them!"

"Isn’t her name not Olivia? And fuck off," you jokingly dismissed, but inside you were screaming like a little girl who got to meet A-ha! or George Michael. "Nah, it wasn't that. With the way you always are in class, I wanted to see how you'd be like if people gave you more attention without you having to do anything for it. And turns out, you weren't doing it for attention... that's literally just you," you said. "As I've had the privilege of getting to find out looking forward to tonight..."

"I know you've treasured every second," Peter joked back.

"Are you really not going to university or college? At all?"

"Why would you care about that?"

"Because, [sibling/cousin’s name] told me before she went off to college that I couldn't be some bum bitch who peaked in high school. That's why no matter how much extra shit I've pulled off, I've always made sure that my friends were good and working towards goals so that our friendships would be lifelong, not just for right now."

"You’re saying we're friends?"

"Peter..." you groaned, swatting him playfully on the arm. "Yes, I'm saying we're friends. On the condition that you figure out what to do with your future!"

"Uh, well… um, I brought up becoming a teacher to my mom, but she doesn't know how we're going to deal with cost, so… I guess that I—"

"Don't worry about it," you replied. "When we go back to my place for the after party, talk to my [parent/legal guardian]. I'm sure they would be happy enough to help you out. They love you, after all, more than they love me sometimes!”

Peter’s eyes bulged.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes! I love helping my friends no matter what."

"Y/N... why are you doing this?"

"A ‘thank you, Y/N’ would be nice, too, y'know," you laughed. "And it's because I'm the best fake girlfriend ever. Duh!”

The song would change to "Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)" and Jubilee and Jean rushed towards Peter, pulling him up.

"Shit, get up!" You and Peter screamed in unison, as everyone knew this was his song. He pulled you up by the hand and lead him to the dance floor, with you being left to think over what the fuck was happening.

The night was winding down, as Peter and Wanda had been named prom king and prom queen (Peter wanted to be Prom Queen so he got the tiara) and everyone was mingling and taking photographs. You were happy that the twins won so neither would be fighting over it that evening. You left Peter on his own for a while so that he could catch up with his friends, as Steve and Wanda chatted to him while helping themselves to another plate full of snacks.

"I can't believe Nat left off after like the first song," Wanda recounted, still not being able to wrap her head around it. "You'd think she'd have stayed about to talk to people! I mean, she is single, after all!"

Don’t sweat it, sis, I’m sure your cyborg boyfriend won’t mind you flirting with people behind his back.

"If anyone out of us were to pull a hot girl, it would be Peter. But good luck," Steve would chuckle, chewing on a sausage roll. "Are you going to her house after this?"

"Man, stop," Peter said, punching his arm. "I am, but it's just so people don't get suspicious. Thank you guys for keeping so tight-lipped about this stuff. Can't believe it even lasted as long as it did."

"We've always got your back, Pete. Besides, had we even told anyone they just would've thought we were jealous of you or something like that. But is that all it is? Still?"

"Huh?”

"The whole fake part,” James, or Bucky as they all called him, chimed in. “Like... I dunno. If I only wanted someone to come to the dance with me, I'd tell them to fuck off afterward and just go about my business. It's not like we're going to see each other that much after this, anyhow."

It was an element he'd thought of. Not a lot, but an idea that did cross his mind once or twice. But Bucky was just chatting shit and stirring the pot. He didn't know you like Peter did.

"I should get back to her, she’ll think I did a… runner. Ha! Get it?," Peter said, laughing as he got up from the table.

"See ya, Pete,” Steve said, shaking his head as he chuckled at Peter’s stupid joke under his breath. Bucky and Wanda shared a look as they watched Peter walk off.

Soon before long, Peter found himself at your table again, as Jubilee, Hank, Logan and Ororo were mingling amongst themselves. The gleam of bling from your bracelets shone bright from beneath the light of the ballroom, as you turned your head once Peter pulled out his chair to sit down next to you.

"There you are," you said, sighing as you looked at the rest of the group. "Are we ready to make our exit? I'm ready to have some actual fun now."

"What? But the dance isn't over for a whole 'nother hour," Peter whined.

"You know the rules, Pete: show up late, leave early. It's how all the important guests do it," you joked as you stood up.

The group began to get up, and Peter followed suit, dejected, just behind the rest of the group, not wanting to leave. However, as you began to head out, "I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You" by Elvis Presley began to play. All the single ladies (and men) in school had fled the dance floor and left just the couples, which caused Jubilee to squeal.

"Oh my gosh, Peter, Y/N, you guys have to dance to this before we go!"

"Jub…" You began to object, before she pulled out the puppy dog eyes.

"Pleeease! Come on, Y/N, it's prom!"

"Fine. Just this last dance, and we're going," you sighed, looking at Peter. His eyes anxiously widened as you took him by the hand out to the dance floor, Jubilee and the others cheering on from afar.

"Wow, I didn’t know you could dance!" You chuckled as he waltzed you slowly around, dipping you low, your noses almost touching, lips just barely an inch apart.

He held you close, his hand on the small of your back as he stood you back up, lifting his arm and twirling you around. You looked just like a princess, and he couldn’t believe that he was the one dancing with you. Not Steve, not Bucky, not Peter Parker. Him.

You noticed his bottom lip beginning to quiver and you asked him what was wrong. "Sorry," he replied, a dejected tone in his voice. There was a noticeable softening in his expression.

"What's the matter? Don't say you've gone all melty on me now," You joked, looking at Peter. His silence continued. "Pete…?"

The words felt like they weighed a million pounds, sandwiched in his throat, and he was unable to spit them out. Peter sighed. He just couldn't bring himself to say it.

“What is it? Is everything okay? Do you need a sit down? Some water? Some snacks?”

He sighed. “ I- I can’t do this anymore.”

"But, Peter, you said..."

He rested a hand on your shoulder. "Our deal's over after this. One last dance. I don't want to owe you anything else."

"Oh... uh, okay then," you replied, completely taken aback by his demeanor. What changed in the last few minutes? This wasn’t the Peter you knew and loved.

Wait a minute— Loved?

The song was on its final chorus, as you looked Peter in the eyes, your gaze purposely intense and full of care.

"I know you're going to find someone even better than her… Better than me when we break the agreement... Someone who comes into this crazy world of yours and makes it that much bigger and that much more amazing."

The song would transition out to something a little more lively, as Peter gave a cheeky smile.

"Thanks for the dance, Y/N. I really do appreciate it."

Without a word further, he walked away from you and towards the exit without the others.

smut will be in P2 (final part) which will be up as soon as i finish writing it. i left it on a cliffhanger cause you know i had to do it to ‘em ;)

read part two here <3

#peter maximoff #quicksilver #quicksilver xmen #xmen #quicksilver xmen x reader #peter maximoff x fem!reader #quicksilver fanfiction #xmen fanfiction #xmen fandom #evan peters #peter maximoff fanfiction #guys i’m so in love w him #for my lovely sweet sweet moot

[seaside-writings]

Hello, all you wonderful people!

I hope you're all ready for another super long prompt list because today is the 10th anniversary of the one and only "Gravity Falls" which to this day is still one of my favorite shows in existence.

The world-building and the characters are top-notch in my opinion, and it doesn't matter how many times I watch it, it never gets old and I doubt it ever will.

This amazing show that touched so people first aired in 2012 on June 15th, where it completely stole my heart thanks to a gnome puking up a rainbow.

Since then it's become one of my comfort shows and never fails to put a smile on my face, so celebrate "Gravity Falls" and all its weirdness, I've made this prompt list of all of my favorite bits of dialogue from every character.

I do hope you all enjoy this prompt list, and if it doesn't help you write, I at least hope it makes you smile and gives a little bit of nostalgia.

I hope you all stay blessed and safe throughout your day.

Lots of Love & Wishes: Celia 💙

Prompt List:

"You think the world makes sense? NOTHING MAKES SENSE! SO YOU MIGHT AS WELL MAKE NONSENSE!" - "You're scared. Of growing up. And who could blame you; I'm scared, too," - "Remember! Reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, bye!" - "Three, four, five, six," "Your wife is going to be beautiful!" "Yes!" "Come on, we've got a big break in the case!" "Let's go!" "But will she love me?! - "Romance is like gum: Once it's lost its flavor, you just cram another one in." - If you accidentally eat the prize that comes inside your cereal, does that make you a specially-marked box?" - "He's looking at it, he's looking at it!" "Uhh, do you like me? Yes, definitely, absolutely?" "I rigged it!" - "Do we have a ladder?" "Studies show owning a ladder is more dangerous than a loaded gun. That's why I own ten guns, just in case some fool tries to sneak in here with a ladder," - "You! You can't even imagine what you just cost me! Do you have any idea what I'm like when I'm mad?" - "Is this legal?" "When there's no cops around, anything's legal!" - "Dude, am I a side character?" - "Hey, hey! Let go of my sister!" "Oh, hey there. You know this is all really just a big misunderstanding. You see, your sister's not in any danger. She's just marrying all 1,000 of us and becoming our gnome queen for all eternity. Isn't that right, honey?" "You guys are butt-faces!" - "The future is in the past. Onwards, Aoshima!" - "For one trillion years I've been trapped in my own decaying dimension, waiting for a new universe to call my own," - "Ugghh... I'm never gonna eat or do anything ever again," "Hey! There's still some left!" "EVIL!" - "But you can call me your new lord and master for all of eternity!" - "Songs are like hugs that mouths give to ears!" - "Now, who wants to put on some blindfolds and get into my car?" "YAY!" "Wait, what?" - "I must warn you, these statues come at a terrible price," "Twenty dollars?! I'll just take 'em when you're not lookin'," "What?" "I said I was gonna rob ya," - "You can't force someone to love you. The best you can do is strive to be someone worthy of loving," - "Time is dead and meaning has no meaning. Existence is upside-down and I reign supreme. Welcome, one and all, to Weirdmageddon!" - "Maybe that old guy was crazy after all..." "He did use the word "scrabdoodle"..." - "I don't know. I was in the friend zone, and then he pulled me into the romance zone! It was like quicksand!" - "He thinks there's no heroes in this world, but if we work together and fight back, we can defeat him. You wanna be her hero? Stand up to that psycho, and let us save her!" - "How many of these did you eat!?" "Beleven.. teen..." "Oh man, oh man, oh man, oh man," - "You really think you can outwit me, boy? I'm Sherlock bleeding Holmes! Have you seen my magnifying glass?! It's enormous!" - "Face the music, kid. You got no muscles, you smell like baby wipes, and let's not forget last Tuesday's... incident. - "Child, why have you come here? "Multibear, I seek your head! Or, one of them, anyway. There's like...six? Six heads?" - "What was that about?" "Nothing. I don't want to talk about it. Talk about what? Why is this table wet?" - "Food!" "Thanks there, sugar pot. I-I mean honey wasp, kitten baby, b-baby cow," "Ha! Silly... so silly," - "Okay, I'm not actually laid back. I'm stressed, like, 24/7. Have you met my family?" - “Stay curious, stay weird, stay kind, and don't let anyone ever tell you you aren't smart or brave or worthy enough," - "I'm legalizing everything!" - "We're gonna have to break in," "And here are your balloons; blue and pink!" "We're in," - "Oh, look. The "constable!" What are you gonna do? Throw me in "ye stocks?'" - "If you're watching this, you are one of eight people in these United States with clearance to view this information. In fact, I myself will be shot once the filming is complete. What? We're not doing? Ha! Well, that's a relief!" - "He is such a jerk," "Yeah, but he's a jerk with tight pants and a guitar," - "I just wanted to tell you that everyone makes mistakes. And when they do, you should forgive them. And also that tight pants are overrated," "Dude. You lost me," "I know," - "You're under arrest for violation of the Time Traveler's Code of Conduct," "It was those kids! And their leader, Waddles!" "That's a pig," - "You can hide, but you cannot hide!" - "I'll get you for this! I'll go back in time and make sure your parents never meet!" - What's going on out here, dudes? I heard a ruckus. Heh-heh, that's a funny word. "Ruckus"," - "I ate a man alive tonight," - "No, buts except yours out the door. now shut your yap and get to work," - "Well, we're still here," "Guess he forgot to go back," - "A darkness approaches. A day will come in the future when everything you care about will change... Until then I'll be watching you! I'll be watching you..." - Today, I learned that morality is relative!" - "I think I'm gonna go stare at a wall for a while and rethink everything," - "Why sweetheart, I wouldn't hurt a hair on your itty-bitty head. If you agree to be my queen!" "NO! Never! I will fight you till the day I- Gummy Koalas!" - "Oh yeah, this is gonna be your worst plot yet. They're fine; I saw them playing in the yard minutes ago," - "I was awoken by the sound of mockery. Where is it? Show me the object of ridicule!" - "Ow!" "I high-five hard," - "You know, kids? I've been thinkin'. At the end of the day, Summerween isn't about candy or costumes, or even scaring people. It's a day when the whole family can get together at one place and celebrate what really matters... PURE EVIL!" - "I'm giving none of this to charity!" - "YOU CAN RUN, BUT I'LL STILL BE IN YOUR NIGHTMARES!!" - "Maybe this is one story we should keep to ourselves," "Agreed," - "Yeah, dude. That sounds science-y enough to be true," - "Ah, the pool! Sparkling oasis of summer enchantment!" "Yeah, nothing like sitting in a moist tub with strangers. It's like the bus but wet." - "I am the lifeguard. I make the rules, sucka! Boosh!" - "Why would a sun need to wear sunglasses?" "It's best not to think about it," - "Wow, you work here?" "I found out lifeguards get free snack privileges. Plus I get the best seat in the house," "Yeah, you do!" - "Yes, yes... burn the child!" - "How long ya in for?" "Two hours for roughhousing, but I'm innocent!" - "Finally, a good reason to punch a teenager in the face! Let's roll!" - "I have never met anyone like you," "Me too. Except for a zombie, a gnome, and a couple of cute vampires," "I don't remember the vampires," "I don't tell you everything!" - "Well if it makes you feel better, the apocalypse is comin' soon! Bury your gold. You've been buying gold, right?" - "Me? Nothing. This? I was just eating some sour candy...so my lips did that...because the candy was so sour," "Can I have some candy?" "...No," - "Road safety laws prepare to be ignored!" - "Wait a second! Is something rooting through our trash? Hey, hey! Get outta here! Darn beautiful men always eating out of my trash. Wait what?" - "You can't put him outside! There's predators! And barbecues!" "That's just the natural order. It's not my fault your pig's potentially delicious!" - "Oh, I get it. You're trying to guilt me! Well, it ain't working, pal! Who cares if you're her favorite thing in the world? I can live without the kid talking to me all the time. Telling me her jokes... making me laugh," - "I've been cheating the last eight turns," "Haha, that's my girl," - "Here! Deer teeth! For you, kid!" - "Gimme that back or I'll..." "Or you'll what, boy? You'll what? Huh? Huh!? No muscles, no brains - face it, you're nothin' without this!" - "The entire lower half of your body is on fire," "Shhh... we're having a moment," - "Karaoke isn't about sounding good. It's about sounding terrible together," - "All right, you undead jerks, you ready to die twice?!" - "What is the ONE thing I asked you NOT to do tonight? "Raise the dead," "And what did you do?" "Raise the dead," - "Hey, well at least you can't deny that magic exists anymore, right? "... Kid, I've always known," "What!?" - "The only wrinkly monster who harasses my family is ME!" - "I'm not an idiot, kid, of course, this town is weird and the one thing I know about that weirdness is that it's dangerous. I've been lying about it to try to keep you away from it, to try to protect you from it. Looks like I didn't lie well enough," - "They're slow! Just power-walk away from them!" - "Dude, you're laying on my bra," - "Man, these movies are a lot less scary when you've actually fought real zombies," - "They sure are taking their time in there," "Didn't he say something about a monster!?" "Oh, no! I thought he was joking!" "You know his jokes are terrible!" - "You think you're so clever, don't you? But you have no idea what you're up against. You will never find the author! If you keep digging, you'll meet a fate worse than you can imagine," - "Would it be wrong to punch a child?" - "Don't stay up all night. The last time you got this sleep-deprived, you tried to eat your own shirt," - It was just a job, kid! No hard feelings. And I've been keeping an eye on you since then, and I must say, I'm impressed! "Really?" "Yep, in fact, you deserve a prize! Here, have a head that's always screaming!" - "I'm gonna stop you! I'm going to find that journal before you do, and I'm gonna stop you!" "Heh, but how can you stop me...if you don't exist?" - "Did he just make out with his puppets?" "I might've dodged a bullet there," - "The point is, I like you. How's about you let me give you a hint, huh? I only ask for a small... favor in return," "I'd never do a favor for you! Don't forget who defeated you last time!" "Right, you "defeated me". Well, if you ever change your mind, I'll be here for you, ready to make a deeaaal," - "Movies are great! You watch the movie, you scare the girl, the girl snuggles up next to you - next thing you know, you gotta raise a kid, your life falls apart... Forget that last part," - "Well, that just put me 90 minutes closer to death. Time you kids learned to watch the classics from my day," "Ooooh, old people movies! Get ready for references we don't understand and words we can't repeat," - "Love God! sign my face!" "Only if you sign mine, baby! LET'S GET WEIRD!" - "You're the worst," - "Just gotta splash this sucker with some anointed water and he should be out of your probably fake blonde hair," - "I was right about you all along. You're just as bad as your parents. Another link in the world's worst chain!" - "Look at who you're talking to, boy. I'm hosting a party for the most powerful people in the world. You think they'd come here if they had to rub elbows with your kind?" "My kind?" - "A forest of death, a lesson learned! And now the manor will BURN!" - "Hey, ugly! Over here! You want me to let in the townsfolk? 'Cause I'll do it! Just change everyone back!" "You wish to prove yourself? Pull that lever and open the grand gate to the town! Fulfill your ancestors' promise!" - "Is this thing broken?" "Our family name is broken! And I'm gonna fix it!" - "Ow! Hot Belgian waffles! Wait, I'm alone. I can swear for real! SON OF A..." - "I wanted to say that you're gonna hear some bad things about me, and some of 'em are true, but trust me—everything I've worked for, everything I care about, it's all for this family!" - "Is this the part where one of us faints?" "Oh, I am so on it, dude," - "What...? W-who is that?" "The author of the journals... my brother," - "You owe us some answers: What's the deal with this portal? Why did you keep this a secret?" "And what happened between you and your brother?" "I hope all of this aligns exactly with my fan-fiction. If not, I will be very disappointed," - "Greetings. Do kids still say greetings? I haven't been in this dimension for a really long time," "Whoa, a six-fingered handshake? It's a full-finger friendlier than normal!" "Heha, I like this kid. She's weird," - "Look, you gonna explain what's going on, here? You're acting like Mom after her tenth cup of coffee," "Listen, there isn't must time. I've made huge mistakes and I don't know who I can trust anymore," "Hey, uh, easy there. Let's talk this through, okay?" - "I'd lost him. I didn't know if he was dead or alive in some distant galaxy, but I knew his journal must have the answer to getting him back. Somehow," - "No, no! You don't understand what I've been through! I've been to prison in three different countries! I once had to chew my way out of the trunk of a car! You think you've got problems? I've got a mullet!" - "That's IT?! You finally want to see me after ten years, and it's to tell me to get as far away from you as possible?!" - "Have you come to steal my eyes!?!" - "My boy, do you know what this means? We must stop everything I've been working on at once... and PLAY!" - "Kids, if I die, make sure I get a bigger tombstone than my brother," - "Look, it's time we stop trying to be so "perfect" and be who we really are. We're crazed, angry, sweaty animals! We're not unicorns, we're WOMEN! AND WE TAKE WHAT WE WANT!" - "You lied to me! Where does that portal really lead?!" "Hoho! Looks like Mr. Brainiac finally got smart! Let's just say that when that portal finishes charging up, your dimension is gonna learn how to party! Right, guys?" - "MONEY!" - "TV lied, man! If you can avoid growing up, do it! I'd give anything to be twelve again," - "Well, it's a horrible opportunity for me! I had the worst day of my life! When we turn thirteen, summer ends and I have to leave everything behind. You're the only person I could count on, and now you're leaving me too?!" - "Look, things aren't gonna stay frozen this way. It's part of growing up. Things change. Summer ends," - "At last! At long, long last! The gate between worlds has opened! The event one billion years prophesied has come to pass! The day has come! THE WORLD IS FINALLY MINE!" - "I'll die before I join you!" - "Open up! This is the police. Time Police!" "Just play it cool, ditch the time-punch. Let me do the talking," - "This is crazy! I'm sorry about our fight, and I'm sorry things aren't great right now, but that doesn't mean you can stay in here forever!" - "Look, real-life stinks sometimes, okay, I'm not gonna lie. But there's a better way to get through it than denial, and that's with help from people who care about you," - "I thought you were living a fantasy, but look at me! I actually thought I was gonna stay here and be his apprentice! Spend my entire teens cooped up in a basement with a lab coat? How ridiculous is that? I don't know what's gonna happen in the future, but whatever it is, you don't have to fear because we'll do it together. I'm not taking his apprenticeship. We've traveled to Heck and back to get you and we're goin' back together. Leave this fantasy world. Let's beat this and grow up together," - "You mean it? You're really coming home with me?" "Yes. Definitely. Absolutely. Awkward sibling hug?" "... Sincere sibling hug," - "Aw, man, I never noticed how bright this place is, ugh! Have I actually been listening to the same song for an entire week?" - "Since the Mayor got captured, I elected myself de-facto Chief. The plan's to stay in here and eat brown meat until we run out. Then I vote we eat the gnomes," "Hey! I'm short, not deaf!" "Shh, shh! Stress will make you chewy!" - "You're insane if you think I'll help you!" "I'm insane either way, braniac!" - "Well, would you look at that! Those kids really care about you. And you care about them. DON'T YOU?!" - "Ohh, I can't believe this! The kids are gonna die and it's all my fault! All because I couldn't shake your stupid hand! Ugh, Dad was right about me. I am a screwup," "Don't blame yourself. I'm the one who made a deal with that psycho in the first place. I fell for all his easy flattery. You would've seen him for the scam artist he is," "... How did things get so messed up between us?" - "Do you really think he's gonna make good on that deal?" "What other choice do we have?" - "Heh-heh! Do a pretty good impression of my brother, don't I? Switch clothes and no one can tell us apart! Welcome to my mind. Surprised you didn't recognize it," - "Oh, yeah. You're goin' down. You're getting erased. Memory gun. Pretty clever, huh?" "Y-you idiot! Don't you realize you're destroying your own mind too?!" "Eh. It's not like I was using this space for much anyway," - "You're making a mistake! I'll give you anything! Money, fame, riches, infinite power, your own galaxy! Please! No...! WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME...?!" - "Hey, look at me! Turn around and look at me, you one-eyed demon! You're a real wise guy, but you made one fatal mistake: you messed with my family!" - "MY TIME HAS COME TO BURN! I INVOKE THE ANCIENT POWER THAT I MAY RETURN!" - "Heh. Guess I was good for something after all," - "You're a hero," - "We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when, oh I know we'll meet again some sunny day," - "Being a hero means fighting back even when it seems impossible," - "If you've ever taken a road trip through the Pacific Northwest, you've probably seen a bumper sticker for a place called Gravity Falls. It's not on any maps, and most people have never heard of it. Some people think it's a myth. But if you're curious, don't wait. Take a trip. Find it. It's out there somewhere in the woods, waiting,"

#gravity falls #welcome to gravity falls #happy anniversary gravity falls #happy 10th anniversary gravity falls #gravity falls 10th anniversary #writing #writing prompt #writing prompts #writing prompt list #writing prompt lists #dialogue #dialogue prompt #dialogue prompts #dialogue prompt list #dialogue prompt lists #gravity falls prompts #family #family prompt #family prompts #adventure #adventure prompt #adventure prompts #action/adventure #action/adventure prompt #action/adventure prompts #10 years of gravity falls

[lilgraceandi]

Some updates

Lim Wu came back on 13thApril,23 but he, Wan-Yu and Eliana were all unwell. We didn’t think much about it, but it turned they had Covid-19 and unfortunately transmitted it to Ma. Leslie, Grace and I visited them on Friday 14thApril at night and went home on Saturday evening but we were unaffected. Ma was unwell on Saturday and Sunday, then tested positive on Monday. Thankfully she has fully recovered but she suffered a great deal, with flu, a terrible phlegmy cough and hoarse voice.

Eliana was a bundle of joy and Grace couldn’t wait to play with her. We all took turns to carry and feed her. She’s quite an easy baby and lets anyone carries her. She has only two teeth so far, but Wan-Yu lets her experiment with different kinds of food, like ladies’ fingers, chai sim and corn. She likes rice crackers and blueberry puffs but the coconut ones were too hard for her. Unfortunately, she’s got eczema and it flares up easily, so throughout their stay Lim Wu and Wan-Yu had to ensure that she was always cool and clean. We had to make sure we had clean hands before we carried her.

I was so glad to have a few days break during Hari Raya but it was a busy one. First, because we didn’t know Lim Wu was coming back, we had already booked a night in KL from Friday to Saturday. We spent it with Edwin and Ee Chin and also Choon Lai, whom Leslie had not met for over ten years. His 11-year-old son has leukemia (ALL) so they all wanted to encourage him. We had wanted to visit Lim Wu and family on Thursday but because Ma had Covid, we didn’t. Biow Huei came back though, but was thankfully fine. I think those of us who had it before somehow had a stronger immunity against it.

Then Lilian organised a family trip to Kukup so we all drove there on Sunday and came back on Monday. It was a very long drive to and fro. We basically just ate a lot there and relaxed. No one wanted to visit Tanjung Piai because of the boiling hot weather.

On Tuesday I took leave and we drove to Melaka to spend the day with Ma and Lim Wu and family. Ma had recovered by then and so we had lunch at a restaurant to celebrate Ma’s birthday. Then Lim Wu and family flew to Bali on Friday.

And that was last week! On 1stMay, we drove up to Melaka again. We cleared some more stuff in Semabok and found some little treasures, like Biow Huei’s very old ringgit notes no longer in circulation and my birthday cards made between 1988 to 1991 by Lim Wu and Biow Huei. Leslie buried himself in Pa’s old books and brought quite a few back to Muar. I found Pa’s old clothes which either Leslie or Ah Hwa could wear. Then we had lunch at Ma’s condo.

So these past few weeks had flown by just like that. Tomorrow Leslie, Grace and I hope to have a restful day at home, but knowing her, we would probably go out somewhere.

[jrpneblog]

Still running, but only just.

With less than a month of the season left North End are still hanging in there in the battle to reach the top six. Norwich City are the team everyone is chasing in that sixth spot and the Canaries are next up to visit Deepdale this Saturday. North End`s interest in the end of season lottery was maintained after a thumping 4-1 win against Huddersfield Town and Norwich conceding a two goal lead to only draw at Sheffield Wednesday. At half time the difference was ten points and North End were gone but at full time the difference was only five points with Norwich coming to Deepdale this weekend and North End then playing their game in hand at Southampton next Tuesday evening. Of course there are other runners such as Hull, Middlesbrough, Coventry and, of course, Norwich themselves so it is not cut and dried but I think North End need to beat Norwich and win three out of the other four games to be in with a chance.

Last Saturday we went to Watford for our annual Gentry Day celebration and while off the pitch we were Premier League class I am afraid on the pitch we were mediocre given the circumstances surrounding the game. The Hornets had a couple of decent players it has to be said but you could see why they have not won at home since last November. North End probably only had two decent chances in the game via Hughes and Keane and I just thought we would show more hunger to take the three points than we did. The draw was a fair result on the day but we really must win games like this if we are to have any chance.

Only Tuesday evening the faithful at Deepdale were treated to a late, late show via Mulitin Osmajic. The big Montenegrin striker score a seven minute hat-trick in the last part of the game to turn round an encounter that was not going North End`s way at half time. It a poor opening half North End never really got to grips with the Terriers and the visitors found themselves one up just before the break. North End equalised courtesy of a Keane penalty ten minutes into the second half but it was the introduction of Browne and Osmajic with fifteen minutes to go that completely turned the game for North End. By the end of proceedings "Magic" had the match ball and with Norwich only drawing at Sheffield Wednesday it was game on again in the craziest league of all.

Saturday sees the biggest game of the season for North End with the team everyone is chasing, Norwich City, visiting the hallowed turf of Deepdale. The game is a must win for North End with anything else probably seeing the end of our interest in the play offs. Norwich have quietly crept into the top six almost under the radar although their away record is only nineteenth in the division. The Canaries have won five drawn six and lost ten of the twenty one games they have played away from Carrow Road and although they have scored thirty five goals they have conceded forty one. Just twenty one points of their sixty eight have come away from home so I really do think the this is a game North End can, and must, win if we are to carry the show on to Southampton on Tuesday evening.

Let us hope it is second tome lucky as we head to St Mary`s Stadium on Tuesday evening to play our re-arranged game against Southampton. It is possible the Saints may be confirmed in the play offs before we travel to the South coast and while many things are still undecided in the Championship it is a long odds on bet that Southampton will finish fourth. The Saints have a very decent home record having won thirteen, drawn three and lost only four this season. They have scored forty eight goals so far this term and only conceded twenty six and are the second highest scorers at home behind Ipswich Town. It looks tough on paper but not impossible and the home side may just be a little off the pace if their place in the top six has already been confirmed.

And finally this week:- We may not have quite reached the Premier League on the field but off it our fans must rank in the top flight. The superb, non stop singing at Watford on Saturday for those we were remembering was outstanding as was the various attire worn by the Gentry as we celebrated the lives of those no longer with us. We may not be the most fashionable team in the land but we are the one and only North End and everything that goes with us. These are not fans, they are Gentry!

.

MATCH PREDICTION -

NORWICH CITY (H) League - Home Win

SOUTHAMPTON (A) League - Away Win

.

JR`s HIGH FIVES

Preston to beat Norwich City 23/10

A £5 Stake returns £16.50 on bet365

SEASONS STATS

Returns £101.00 Stake £180.00

Percentage profit+/-loss - 43.89%

Predictions 36 won 10 lost 26

[holdingontoheadache]

Happy birthday, dearest Doly!!! I hope you had/have an amazing celebration/day in general and you get everything you deserve and want! I’m sending you so many flowers and gifts 🎁💐🌷🎁 and sending so much love your way. Wanted to let you know I just adore you and love knowing you, chatting with you and being your mutual!!! 🎂🎉🥳❤️

Jay, my beloved!! 🥹✨

You’re too sweet, my dear! Thank you!! Everything you said, I’m saying right back to you ten fold!! You’re truly a doll lol. Hope you’re having a lovely Tuesday!! 💕

#doly turns 25!! #jay 🤍 #I have to respond to you on discord when I get the chance! #it’s been a hectic couple of days lol

[casspurrjoybell-26]

The Contract - Chapter 49

*Warning: Adult Content*

- Donovan -

It's been two weeks since the hospital incident with Evan's mom and exactly one week since I've seen Evan's face.

Three days after being dismissed from the hospital, I helped Judy, Evan's mom get into a private clinic to get the help she desperately needed and in the past two weeks, she's managed to get life back on track, putting Evan and his mom in a good place, as mother and son.

Judy divorced Roy and changed her name back to Beckett and Evan pressed charges against Roy's two teenage daughters, the ones that broke into his old apartment, putting a restraining order on them and their father.

I'm on my way home after being away for a week for a business meeting for partners in Europe, I can now say that I was looking forward to going home because I know Evan would be there.

Evan has been busy the past week with work as an actor, he's gotten a movie role with a big-name film director and yet despite how busy he will be and how demanding my job is, I'm happy for him, he got what he wanted, he made a name for himself.

I simply gave him a push, all Evan had to do was show up and impress them, as he impressed me, without getting on his knees, I call that a job well done.

It's Tuesday and it's Evan's twenty-third birthday and from speaking to his mom on the phone, I know they'll be throwing him a surprise birthday back at the penthouse.

With my work taking me to Europe, I was supposed to be there for two weeks, and miss his birthday, but after shifting things around, and working into the night and into early hours in the morning, I finished everything in five days.

I didn't waste any time getting back on the plane for NY, I knew how disappointed Evan was when I told him I would miss his birthday, even if he didn't say it, I knew he wanted me there with his family and friends to celebrate.

I'm an hour away and right now I know Evan's with his best friends drinking, they'll be back at the penthouse by three, giving me time to get cleaned up and changed back at my place, knowing his mom would be there, setting everything up with the help from some of his friends I met briefly.

I thought long and hard about what to give Evan, being twenty-three and the young guy he is, I was lost with what to get him but speaking to his mom, who I've grown close to, I finally decided what to get him, I'm just hoping that he likes it.

Meeting Evan's friends for the first time, before leaving for Europe, I couldn't help but wonder if he was satisfied being with me, someone who has already done it all, I've been married and had a child, while Evan is still young and has yet to experience life. A part of me wanted to let him go, settle down and live the bachelor life, to let him experience life without me while he was young, to know if it was me he really wanted and not just because of how I felt about him.

I'll admit, being almost thirteen years older than Evan has been hard for me to come to terms with, having not felt bothered by it until I saw him with his friends and then with mine when he met them.

I love Evan Beckett and life with him in mine is better, that much I don't deny.

My son Jamie loves spending time with Evan and I and Emily already calls him family, it's more than I honestly expected, given our age difference.

"Mr. Steele, we're thirty minutes away."

My driver announces, I nod my head and sigh and grab my phone from my jacket pocket.

Evan texted me ten minutes ago, with a photo of him and his friends, with the text 'wish you were here' plastered over the picture of them smiling into the camera.

The image only makes me even more sure I got him the right gift, he deserves so much and there's so much I want to give him, I want to be the guy in the photo with him and experience life looking just as happy as he does in that photo.

I go through our texts from the past week all the way up until my driver announces we're here,and once I get into the elevator, for the first time in a long time, I'm excited to be home, to surprise Evan a week early, on his birthday.

Opening the door to the penthouse, I'm welcomed by Judy and the incredible display she put together, with the help of some of his friends and a party planner I hired to help out.

"OH. You're finally here," Judy says, wrapping her arm around my neck, standing on her tiptoes to kiss me on the cheek, making me smile at the short older woman.

"The place looks great," I say, looking around. "He's going to love it, Judy," I add, making her happily nod her head, looking around.

"This was only possible with your help. Reece has been a darling," she says, looking over to Reece, the party planner I hired as he notices me and waves.

"Did you hear any more from him?" I ask and she grins and nods her head, showing me her phone, Evan telling his mom that they're coming back to celebrate with her after their last drink, giving me time to get changed.

"Breathe, Donovan," she says, patting me on the back. "He's going to love it, my boy loves anything you do, it's like you make magic happen," she jokes, making me smile.

"I should go get dressed before I'm the only one here wearing a suit," I joke lightly as the front door opens again and in walks more of Evan's friends, saying hi to me and Judy as they walk past us, their excitement filling the air once they see the inside.

I overestimated just how many people Evan knew, there are already thirty people here, with more waiting to get into the elevator to reach the penthouse from the camera downstairs.

Thankfully I own a large penthouse to house Evan's friends.

"Off you go handsome," Judy says, giving me a push towards the stairs. "I'll shout up once he's on his way."

She winks at me, as I nod my head, watching her go to greet Evan's friends, with a huge smile stuck on her face.

Any moment Evan will show up, with his friends here and a handful of my closest friends waiting for his arrival.

At thirty-five I've achieved more than most and I'm worth 86.4 billion.

I'm dating a twenty three-year-old man and I have a teenage son and ex-wife and a long list of accomplishments but nothing beats this feeling in my chest, the loud beating of my heart at the anticipation of just seeing him, being with him, living with him.

Turning on the shower and taking my clothes off after a long flight home, I stand there under the water with my eyes closed, with my hands on the shower wall, I know my insecurities are just fear of not being enough to shake me from what I want.

Evan came into my life as a contract, just another business deal where I get something in return but what I really got in return is a second chance with someone I least expected.

After Alex and everything she did to me, I'd had a long destructive and unhealthy relationship with women, never taking a girlfriend or a wife, going on with the rest of my life like a ghost, addicted to work, not giving a care in the world to those I hurt.

At thirty-five it took this long to realize I'm nothing without a twenty-three-year-old serious actor, whose completely useless with money and even worse at expressing himself.

It's been eight months and three days since I first laid eyes on him and not a day goes by that I don't regret kissing him, letting him into my life, letting him mess it up so much I don't know how I lived alone for so long.

I want to spend the rest of my life with him and given the chance he wants the same, I know I would have lived a good life if he of all people choose me to be with him.

A sudden pain hits me, nothing like I've ever felt before.

My chest tightens and starts to hurt, making me grip my chest tightly as my legs start to shake and lose balance, making my knees hit the hard tile floor, gasping for breath.

Nausea hits me hard as the excruciating pain in my chest worsens, leaving me gasping for air as the water from the shower head hit me, trying to claw my way out of the shower with my hand pressed tightly on my chest, my hands shaking violently.

The last thing I see before my head feels heavy and my vision blur is a shadowy figure of a man opening the door, the door banging against the wall in the process, whoever it was, was running over to me and dropping to their knees and putting their hands on either side my face.

Their hands... they felt so warm, I never wanted to close my eyes, I wanted to feel that warmth forever but the pain was too much and my body was fighting against me.

I don't want to die... but if this was it, I wanted to see his face, just one last time, just once, I'd pay all the money in the world to see Evan one last time and I'd die happily knowing just that I got that dying wish.

That was the last thought I had before I lost consciousness and everything went dark.

[artificialqueens]

🏳️‍🌈 Euphoria 1/10 (Greentia) - Juno

Summary: Singing hopeful Veronica Green meets her idol, the retired pop sensation Tia Kofi at a Eurovision party; and her throwaway remark about entering Eurovision 2023 starts her on a journey into what she hopes will be music superstardom. But like her agent Divina says, it’s all about the friends you make along the way.

A/N: this has already gone onto my AO3 page but posting here too! This is a pop star au with Eurovision featured so there will be lots of people from different franchises, but the main ship is this one. Big thanks to everyone who has let me annoy them about this fic, and there is more content on my blog!!

Veronica pouted at her rain-soaked reflection in her pocket mirror, then looked back up at the sign outside the studio that definitely still said PRIVATE PARTY ESC2022: Invite Only. With a deep breath, she straightened her back, forced her best Ginger Spice smile onto her face, and approached the bouncer, flashing her invite and having the rope unhooked for her.

God. Am I officially a celebrity now?

She looked at the flight of stairs up to the first floor of this very exclusive-looking hotel, voices and laughter drifting down it towards her. Nerves started to snake up her spine and branch into her ribcage and she took another deep, calming breath.

I’m already knackered, and it’s only ten in the evening.

If Divina had never sent that text that night, maybe Veronica would never have even contemplated a private Eurovision party. She had been perfectly happy with her prior Eurovision arrangement of sitting in her flat with Joe, along with several bags of Doritos and party rings and whatever strange-coloured cocktails Joe would be mixing on the kitchen workbench. 

But her work phone had gone off with the notification just as she was falling asleep earlier that week. Her flatmate Joe always advised her to keep her work phone out the way, hidden in a drawer or something, so she wouldn’t look at work emails while in bed, and she swore to him that she wasn’t reading them. But her curiosity won as usual and she’d read the message over and over, a sense of trepidation building up in her, like a can of Coke that had been shaken up. 

Divina @ 23.04: I’ve got you into the most exclusive Eurovision party in London, the one at the studio where they announce the points total. It’s this Saturday. It starts at 7.30 but don’t get there before 8.30, and the word is that it’s fancy dress.

After she’d read it for the fortieth time, she had decided she wasn’t going to be able to sleep, and instead spent the next six hours thinking about who she could dress as until her alarm went off and she had had to get ready for her job.

Her actual job. Not, she’d thought with a sigh, her singing.

But maybe her agent messaging her at almost midnight on a Tuesday night was a blessing in disguise, her first step up the ladder to superstardom

Which was why Veronica was heading up the stairs to this party, dressed as Ginger Spice. She’d spent an hour teasing her hair until she’d simply pissed it off and had slithered herself a Union Jack dress she’d found at a joke shop earlier that day. The brand new white platform trainers were cutting into her toes and the rain had been threatening her hair before she’d even made it here. She’d aimed to get there at nine, but by the time she’d sprinted back home after she’d forgotten her phone, missed the Tube, and lost her way, there was no chance of her getting here before ten.

By the time she’d made it up the steps and into the party, she knew this was a mistake.

Her smile slowly faded from her face as she scanned the room, a huge ballroom tinkling with faint light jazz and crammed with people holding drinks and standing in their small groups. Sure, there were one or two people in fancy dress, but most of the people there were more formal, crowded together, paying almost no attention to anything but their own conversations. Heads turned when she entered, scanning her briefly before turning back to their groups.

And when she squeezed past them towards the bar, derisive whispers drilled into her ears from all sides like needles, heat growing up her cheeks.

“Nice costume, the nineties are so in right now -“

“Straight from Smiffy’s, I ask you -“

“Who takes that shit seriously, for God’s sake -”

Veronica downed her first drink to numb her skin. The second started to taste better the longer she held it. A little more relaxed, she leaned her back against the bar, looking around the room. Eurovision was on the huge screen at one end of the bar, although she’d arrived so late that she’d missed all the acts and it was the interval; but staring into the crowd, she noticed something.

No one is actually watching. No one is even talking about Eurovision. No one cares. They’re just here to … mingle? I guess?

Trying to make it onto the scene since her move to London was annoying, so many secret rules that popped up with every party, every event, every tabloid encounter that she’d had. In Veronica’s head, it should be easy - make music, go to events about music, meet people passionate about what had brought her here. Instead, most of the time Divina was sending her to various events to mingle. As far as Veronica could see, mingling consisted of accepting champagne and turning down coke and standing with very grand people discussing other people’s private lives.

Honestly, it was exhausting. 

Veronica liked mingling, when it was with Joe and could technically still be described as fan behaviour, as gossip. But here, in her professional environment, she wanted to work. She wanted to sing and dance and display her talents, but to do that, she apparently needed connections, connections that she didn’t really have yet.

She didn’t recognise anyone in the room, and no one was looking as if they wanted to bring her into their own little groups. So she downed the second drink and ordered a third, taking it to the balcony outside. 

The view was incredible from up here. It had been a balmy day for May but the night was cool and clear, even though the lights of the city obscured any thought of stars apart from the odd freckle here and there. Veronica leaned on her elbow, chin in her hand, staring into the distance at the blocks and skyscrapers she could see.

She wondered what Joe was doing, back in their little flat. 

He was probably drunk by now, he’d invited Anubis from his D&D group around for Eurovision and they’d have brought snacks and probably plenty of opinions on the contestants -

“Oh my god -“ she heard the voice before she looked, a crash as the person behind her stumbled against the door; the prop slipped away and the door slammed shut.

Veronica froze.

It’s Tia Kofi.

Everyone knew them. They were here? At this party? 

They were getting back to their feet with a groan, brushed themself off with their free hand, glancing up; but as soon as they saw Veronica, their mouth dropped open in an oh.

“Hey! Amazing! I thought I was the only Spice Girl here!”

Veronica took Tia in, still brushing dust from the leopard-print jumpsuit, their tight curls, platform boots like her own trainers. When they made their way over to her, towering over her, she couldn’t take her eyes off them. 

It’s Tia Kofi. It’s them. They’re the one giving the scores for tonight -

“God, it’s cold.” Tia wrapped their arms around themself with a shudder. “I am so, so, so glad I’m not the only one who read the small print on the invite. It said fancy dress didn’t it? Why is no one making an effort?” They gave an exaggerated eye roll, leaning on the balcony. “At least we look stunning. Right?”

“We do,” Veronica nodded, her voice not rising far above a whisper, but Tia barrelled on.

“I think we’re the only ones. God, why does no one want to have fun and dress up tonight? It’s Eurovision! It’s meant to be fun! I love Eurovision, it’s like the queer FA Cup final, so I don’t get why we don’t celebrate it better than this! It’s like no one’s into it here, you know?”

Tia’s eyes widened as if a lightbulb had lit up over their head. “Hey, do you have any other party invites we can crash? Somewhere more fun than this? I don’t have to be back until they start up the -“

“Tia?” Someone was calling them from the inside, propping the door open. “You need to get ready for the scoring.”

“Already?” Tia huffed, slumping forwards. “Alright, I’m coming, two secs.”

They lifted their head back up from their forearms, propping their chin on both hands. “I wish someone was interested in it. Like me. And you!” They grinned at her. “Sorry, I don’t want to be rude but I didn’t get your name -“

“Veronica Green. Hi.” The words stuttered from her mouth, and she stiffly held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

They paused, before their smile widened suddenly. “Oh, yeah, you did that song! The viral hit! Oh my god, I loved that song! You have to come on my radio show, babes, it’s an early one but -“

“Tia!” The same person at the door shouted to them. “You’re live with Graham Norton in two minutes!”

“I’m right there!” Tia shouted, then leaned nearer to her. “Who’s your agent, who’s your label?”

“Oh - Meridian Records, and it’s Divina -“

“Oh - okay, I know them.” They nodded solemnly, although with how hazy their eyes were, Veronica wondered if they’d forget by morning. “Got it. Fab. Let me put in some -“

“You’re live on the beeb in one minute, Tia, come on -“

Tia turned with a start, then back to Veronica, then huffed. “Coming!”

They swayed their way through the chairs on the balcony bar, getting back to the door and vanishing inside, leaving Veronica laughing slightly bitterly at the railing.

If they remember a single word of this conversation, I’ll apply for Eurovision next year.

She followed them inside, wondering if this was the start of mingling with them, thinking with their height and their costume she’d be able to see them straight away, but they had vanished into thin air; so she waved her way through the crowd towards the screen that only she and maybe three other people were watching.

The voices behind her were getting louder, more a cacophony than anything discernible, but she focused on the screen, and her mouth went dry when Tia came on, clasping their hands in front of them and trying not to swerve in their position, while they spoke both English and French and even tried some Italian for the host nation.

Veronica didn’t stay much longer at the party after that. The rest of the people there were still avoiding her like a bad smell, and she decided to make it an early night. Finishing the last dregs of her drink, she left, making her way back to the tube. 

So much for mingling.

She’d just never be good at it, she decided. But, she could have been the best singer, the best dancer in the room, and if she had no contacts there would be no audience for her, just a stage to an echo chamber. She walked the short distance from the station back to her flat, imagining singing to an empty room, wondering if she’d ever be able to at least convingly make her way around a party, faking it until she made it -

Her phone said otherwise.

Divina @00.10: Nice work tonight Ronnie, I had a message from Tia Kofi through the label. They want to book you onto BBC Radio One’s Kofi Morning, one morning next week. I’ve suggested Thursday, so take that day out if you can. Good job xx

She frowned, reading it again, wondering if she’d had more to drink than she’d first realised and it was making her hallucinate. But no, it was still there, in blue and white, even after she’d rubbed her eyes and put her glasses on and removed her makeup and unteased her hair.

Tia actually remembered? They messaged the label?

Veronica collapsed into her bed, the alcohol still warming her limbs. Her eyes were half closed as she typed her response, at the time a totally serious one.

Veronica @00.19: If it goes ok i want to apply for eurovision next year xx

——

Still, Veronica still didn’t think it was real even when she was making her way to the BBC studios that Thursday morning. Even when she was signing in, taking the lanyard she was presented with, and making her way to the waiting room outside the Radio One studio; even running the pads of her fingers up and down the scratchy fabric of the chair under her; she still thought she was about to wake up in her own bed, the alarm going off, to get ready for her day job. 

BBC Radio One’s Kofi Mornings were listened to up and down the country, Veronica reminded herself. This wasn’t just Radio Rochdale anymore. This was nationwide. It wasn’t just TikTok, not just her viral fame, but real, as real as the notebook she was idly tapping with her fingers, jotted with notes, held there in case she suddenly forgot her entire life story.

She was beckoned in just before nine, just before the hourly news, when the radio was playing freely and no one was speaking.

Inside the radio studio was a half-circle desk, upon which sat a huge computer to one side, covered with buttons and controls propping up three screens. One of them had music and one had technical information, but the other was blank. The other side of the half-circle had just a mic on a stand, and three desk chairs next to it. 

And there was Tia, sat behind the computer, face in a concentrated frown, tongue worrying their top lip.

It was the same Tia Kofi she’d listened to on the radio since she’d arrived in London, the same Tia Kofi she’d remembered to take off her lock screen before she got here, but … but it wasn’t that same person, as well. She was so used to seeing Tia in those sparkly blue and green jumpsuits from their band days, and the summer dresses and sequins from their official tour photos on their socials. But here? Veronica took in their willowy limbs curled under them on the chair, wide brown eyes with only a quick flick of mascara, black corkscrew curls to their shoulders. The shorts and converse and loose shirt with the French slogan gave Veronica the impression that Tia was merely filling in on the show, and ready to drive to the beach once they’d done the slot.

They looked fresh and new and clean and sparkling with life.

It took a split second for Veronica to regain composure at being faced with someone she’d only dreamt of meeting since they’d gone on X Factor more than ten years ago, and force her face into a smile, even though her feet were stubbornly fused to the spot.

Tia still ignored her for a minute, their face distant with concentration, flicking the buttons and dials, playing a couple of adverts, then glancing up at the clock with seconds to go before nine, and letting the news channel fade in.

Once they were done Tia looked up, gave Veronica a polite smile.

“You’re Veronica Green?”

Veronica cleared her throat. “Yeah. That’s me. At least, it was last time I checked.”

Her hollow laugh wasn’t echoed by them.

“I thought you’d be …” Tia paused, licked their top lip.

Veronica sat patiently, holding their eyes.

But they shook their head. “Never mind.”

The news faded, and Tia leaned towards the microphone. When they spoke, their voice had taken on the familiar chirpy tone that she heard every day at her desk.

“It’s a great morning here in London, welcome to your Kofi Morning here on BBC Radio One, with me, Tia Kofi, and we’ve got the tunes to get you caffeinated -“

Veronica knew Tia’s spiel, the speech they gave every morning. In her day job the radio was on first thing in the office. She’d had to take a half day’s leave this morning to come on here, but part of her wished she could see her manager’s face once he realised that no, she hadn’t been making it up; she really was going on a radio show for her music.

Tia pressed the dials and pulled the little controls on the computer automatically, while talking into their mic, until their voice mingled into the music. When they’d added the second song to the queue after this one, they sat back against the chair with a small sigh, picking up their own mug and shutting their eyes with satisfaction as they put it to their lips.

“Not a morning person either?” 

Veronica felt almost embarrassed to have said anything, but Tia opened their eyes, gave her a wry smile.

“Was it that easy to tell?” 

“Only a bit.” Veronica matched their sarcasm with a smirk of her own.

But as Tia’s smile widened, their gaze averted, Veronica gave herself a mental slap on the face.

That is tv’s Tia Kofi, Veronica Green. The darling of the music scene. You don’t know them that well to be making daft jokes like that. 

“I mean, you - you always sound so cheerful in the mornings when I listen to your show.”

Tia pushed their hair back with an ironic smile. “Thanks, it’s due to a careful blend of coffee and anxiety.“ 

Even their voice is different now, Veronica thought to herself. The chipper tones on the radio, the sing-song effect to emphasise the bright mood, was now deadpan; their smile ironic and their words lined with sarcasm. Not unhappy, still cheery, just … different. 

They raised their mug as if to cheers her, but Veronica motioned to it with wide eyes and a bubbling of nerves that pushed words onto her tongue before she could stop them.

“Hey, I have that mug too!”

“Wait, really?” Tia’s genuine surprise made them frown, turning their own mug round. “You have a mug that’s covered in Shakespeare insults?”

“Yeah - it’s my fave - hang on -” Veronica dug into her bag and pulled her phone out, showing Tia the picture she’d taken of her mug and sent to her friend only a week ago. 

Tia looked at it, and then up at Veronica. Their face had changed in that moment, the mask of blasé irony replaced by mischief, a small smile playing on their lips as they tipped their head to one side.

“You have a picture of your favourite mug on your phone?”

Veronica gazed down at them, her body going cold in horror while her face steadily grew hot.

This is all going so wrong.

She was meant to be here for an interview, making a good impression on the country in promotion of her upcoming single, and meeting a person she’d admired since she’d seen them on the audition tapes for X Factor before they’d even been made into the band with the other three -

“Why d'you have a picture of your favourite mug on your phone? Just in case you want to show people?" 

Tia’s voice interrupted the steady stream of static in her head, a lilt of humour in the words - are they taking the piss or are they actually laughing? - but the only thought of a response in her head was too embarrassing, completely not something Veronica should say out loud, definitely not anything that would make this scene any better -

"Well. It’s a mugshot, isn’t it?”

Great. Nice one. Very smooth. As the words slipped through the filter between her mind and mouth, Veronica’s face was so warm someone could have fried an egg on it, and she giggled weakly at her own joke, hoping the ground would open up and swallow her sooner rather than later -

Tia spluttered, and then began to laugh, freely and loudly at her remark, slapping the desk in front of them and then clapping a hand over their mouth at the noise. 

“Thanks, Ronnie. I needed a laugh this morning.”

What tension had been settling around them like drizzle instantly lifted, and Veronica echoed their smile with one of her own.

The song faded, and Tia put on their radio show voice again, this time with their Kofi Morning Fun Fact, while Veronica looked around the room.

All the walls were covered with pictures in frames, of various musical artists, some of which Tia had quoted in several interviews as being inspired by from childhood and beyond. David Bowie, Spice Girls, Aretha Franklin, Amy Winehouse. Tia’s picture wasn’t there, but Veronica thought they wouldn’t look out of place now. 

On the desk was Tia’s computer equipment, their fingers dancing along the buttons with practised expertise - they’d been entertaining the nation on their Kofi Morning show for the last four years, after all - along with lots of tiny personal items that Veronica was intrigued by. A rubix cube on a keyring, a very well-loved copy of The Hobbit, three orange dice with six, twelve, and twenty faces, a desk calendar with a different Spanish word every day (today’s word was martillo, which apparently meant hammer).

But it was the framed pictures she liked the most. Veronica gazed at Tia in frames with their arms around people who were presumably family, looking so relaxed and serene, not like the pictures they always put in their insta feed with the poses and the hands on hips and the -

“… Veronica Green, who sings the song which is at number one this week.” Her name in Tia’s voice brought her back into the room with a shiver. “Veronica, welcome!”

“Hi, nice to be here!” Veronica said with a laugh. Tia’s expression turned to shock and then to amusement, as they waved their hand to indicate for her to move in towards the microphone.

“Hi, hello,” Veronica tried again, this time deafening herself with the shriek of tuning.

“Some technical issues in the studio today folks,” Tia announced into their own mic, “while we’re fixing that, we’ll play you this week’s highest chart entry!”

They flicked the switch for the next song and then turned to Veronica, their face creasing to keep from laughing.

“I take it this is your first show? Never mind, we all do this our first times - let me give you a crash course in not fucking up on the radio!”

They flashed her two thumbs up, and she mirrored them, realising that shit, they said fuck. Since when does Tia Kofi know how to swear?

But while the song played, Tia gently took her through where exactly to put her mouth to speak into it for maximum effect, tips to try to keep her hands still if she got nervous, and a quick signal she could give them if she started losing track or freezing up.

“We’re back on the airwaves, tech is sorted - thanks to the technical folks here, snaps for them -” Tia paused to play the snapping fingers effect, “and welcome to the studio Veronica!”

“Hi,” and this time, she was calm, twisting her fingers on the desk before realising and moving them under to rub the sides of her knees instead. “It’s great to be here.”

“It’s great to have you, thank you for coming on!” Tia was beaming at her, and for a second or two, Veronica found herself believing their words. “How was your journey here?”

“Well,” Veronica frowned, “I don’t live in Rochdale any more so it only took me ten minutes on the tube -”

Tia interrupted her stream of words with a hearty laugh before she could go any further. “Stunning. Amazing. Veronica, I have to say that you’ve been all over the place for the last couple of months, I’ve been asked to play your song at least once a day for the last three weeks by someone on twitter, and I think, correct me if I’m wrong, but I thinkthis is one of your first interviews, is that right?”

Veronica nodded. 

Tia raised their eyebrows.

“Oh, yeah - yes, this is my first ever radio interview in London! You get me first, Tia!”

“Oh, stop it,” they gave a dismissive wave, “flattery gets you everywhere with me, hun. So tell us all about the woman behind the song. Who is Veronica Green when she’s not belting out Good Days and doing that viral dance?”

“Oh.” Veronica rubbed her hands up and down her knees. “Well, I’m - I’m from Lancashire originally … living in London now … with my friend Joe who’s the pianist for me … uhm. I’m a Taurus?”

“A Taurus, Veronica is out here trying to get a date I think.” Tia gave her a wink, turning her insides to fireflies. “Gorgeous. Now it’s summer here, have you got lots of things lined up while it’s warm outside?”

“Oh, uhm. Well,” Veronica screwed her eyes shut because yes, yes you do you have lots of things, but the wink Tia had given her was replaying over and over in her mind and words weren’t making it to her tongue. “I - I have a few things on, yes.” She moved her hand, wiggling her fingers under the desk in the signal Tia had given her. 

Tia abruptly turned back to the mic. “That’s amazing, Veronica, I’m sure you’re gonna have a great summer. Well, we’re gonna play Veronica’s single Good Days for you now, still at number one folks, and in the meantime Veronica is gonna teach me her dance. No seriously hun, how do you do that thing with your hands? Actually, show me later.”

They flicked the switch, and the opening bars of her own song sounded. Veronica put her face in her shaking hands.

“No, don’t do that -”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was muffled, and she screwed her eyes closed again, her face growing warm.

She heard a rumble as the chair opposite moved nearer to her, and soft fingertips hooked at her wrists. 

She let Tia slowly prize her hands away from her face, meeting a surprisingly soft gaze. 

“Hey,” they murmured, “you want to know what happened my first time on the radio?”

They spoke so kindly and earnestly that she couldn’t help but nod. 

“Okay, so - and don’t laugh - it was my very first show. I was really excited to get the job. But I’d never done radio before, and the first time I came in here it was … what, just after Christmas last year?”

“You’ve only been here a year?”

“I know, feels like longer.” They inclined their head with a small laugh. “So I was on the radio. First show. I was trying to learn all the dials and things. I kept hitting the wrong one when I wanted to speak though. My friend Lawrence - Lawrence Chaney - they were listening in, they said later that they could definitely hear me saying something a bit … questionable. About Jess Glynne.”

Veronica slapped her hand to her mouth, and Tia rolled their eyes.

“I said don’t laugh, Vee.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m not laughing, I was just … I had an itch.”

Tia chuckled, averting their gaze downwards for a moment and then back up. “Worse was that I was just getting over a cough that I got over the Christmas hols. And then I missed the button the next time, and I had to actually play a Jess Glynne song but all that anyone heard was apparently me coughing along to the end of it over her singing.”

“I’m -“ but Veronica couldn’t help herself, wheezing with laughter, and thankfully Tia shut their eyes and chuckled along. 

“Okay. Fine. I guess it is a little funny. Anyway, she’s still got me blocked.”

“She hasn’t!” Veronica’s eyes widened, and Tia for their part, pulled their own phone from the pocket of their shorts and unlocked it. They showed Veronica their instagram feed, and then put in her name.

“See? Blocked. Oh, and I’m banned from playing her music on my show according to her agent. If I play it, she will apparently ‘have me’.” Tia put a finger under their eye and pouted their lips. “Devvo-ed.”

Veronica screwed her eyes up to try to stop herself laughing. “Alright, I s’pose it could have been worse. But … but people who’ve been tuning in right now -“

"Look,” Tia rubbed the back of her hand, “everyone’s still waking up in the morning. It’s only nine am. And trust me, the ones that are awake, have been absolutely losing their minds about you coming in on my show.”

Veronica let Tia move her hands away to her lap, a little bubble of hope rising in her chest. “You - really?”

“Yeah! Look, you should see my twitter feed.” Tia clicked onto the computer screen and pulled up twitter, showing Veronica the tweet they had sent yesterday with her tagged in it, that she was coming on the show.

Veronica’s jaw dropped at the replies.

@joeblack69: can’t wait to hear veronica tomorrow on the show ….. she’s fit af

@its_just_may: Veronica Green is amazing love your show!!!

@goffikendall:if veronica goes on i will love u and listen to ur show the rest of this year tia i stg

And loads more. Tia showed Veronica glimpses of people she’d never known, leaving supportive messages and replies, and the bubble of air in her chest soared.

“See? People are gonna love it. And they won’t mind that it’s been a bit of a technical mess. You’re only human. Actually,” Tia continued, looking back up at her, “when’s your new single due out?”

Veronica swallowed. “I’ll need to check with Divina. I think it’s mid-June.”

Tia nodded. “Okay. Well, we’ll wrap up for now. It’s been thirty minutes anyway, which I think was how long you were meant to be here for.”

“Oh, okay.” Veronica sighed, slumping down in the chair. “That wasn’t very much, was that alright?”

“Of course! Trust me, my listeners love a surprise.” Tia gave her a wink, as the song started to fade out.

Even after all this time, even after hearing her song so many times on the radio and Apple Music and Spotify, Veronica always winced. Still can’t believe I actually sound like that.

And hearing the clips of the show online was no better. Veronica listened to the radio show again on catch up on the tube on her way home from work, and she screwed her face up at the sound of herself, until she changed the podcast to her music again and tried to forget about it.

“I think you always sound glorious, and I thought you sounded marvellous this morning.“ Joe on the other hand, was far less derogatory than whoever the critic was that resided in Veronica’s head. When she got back to their flat that evening, he had it on loud while he was cooking, frying something in the pan. 

But Veronica sighed, joining him at the chopping board and picking up a knife and a bell pepper. "I still don’t believe you.”

Joe shrugged. “That’s fine. I’ll wear you down eventually." 

She chuckled in spite of herself. "I just don’t think I really did myself justice. I blew my chance to let people get to know me.”

“I … wouldn’t say that,” Joe mused, “just think of it as a trial run. People are still going to want to know you. Look at twitter.“

This time, Veronica snorted with laughter. "Yeah, thanks for helping me out there. I’m ‘fit af’, am I?”

Joe grinned. “As if you needed reminding. And anyway. Didn’t you see the response Tia put on your tweet from earlier?”

Frowning, Veronica dumped the pepper into the pan and then went to get her phone from her bag. Opening up her twitter, she scrolled down her notifications.

@callmeronnie_x: So good to be on #KofiMorning today with icon @teaorcoffee such a lovely host!!

It had garnered more likes and retweets than most of her posts this year. But one reply made her jaw drop.

@teaorcoffee: @callmeronnie_x So good to have you on, will have you back any time!

Her heart skipped two or three beats.

A little flash of bravery shot through her veins like a bolt of lightning, and she tapped away at the screen with a reply.

@callmeronnie_x: @teaorcoffee if you’ve got a slot on June 16th my new single is coming out x

Joe’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline when he saw it later on, when they had both eaten and he was checking his phone. Veronica didn’t even need to know that was what he was looking at, his wry chuckle and shifting on the sofa into a ball.

“Rodney. You cheeky cow.”

Veronica just grinned wolfishly at him. “Takes one to know one, eh?”

“And it’s worked, have a look!”

But she hadn’t noticed. He held his phone to her, and her heart sped up when she read the reply.

@teaorcoffee: @callmeronnie_x how about June 15th, and you can tell us all about it, check your dms x

Pride Challenge Points: 1366

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #tia kofi #veronica green #tia x veronica #eurovision au #pop star au #lesbian au #juno #euphoria #fic challenge

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #555

Top Ten Doctor Who Villains

This weekend’s post is all about Doctor Who, but it’s also kind of an overall celebration of the BBC. It was the 100th anniversary of the BBC’s founding this week (literally on Tuesday, I believe). And the BBC is pretty good, innit? I’m fortunate enough to actually be part of their centenary celebrations, as I travel round the country producing presentations in schools as part of the Share Your Story tour. It’s exciting and rewarding and very tiring. But the BBC doesn’t just provide beneficial educational content free of charge to literally hundreds of thousands of children! They also do trippy sci-fi starring scary rubber monsters.

If you lived through Doctor Who’s interregnum as I did – or even if you were into it in the Olden Days – then you’d probably be familiar with the common mainstream perception of Who as being a show with rubbish special effects and monsters cobbled together out of things found in the skip outside the Blue Peter studio. This was never entirely fair – not then and not now – but it just goes to show that the baddies are one of the things that really makes Doctor Who great, and they really stick in the mind.

I mean, let’s face it, The Doctor has one of the greatest and most memorable rogues galleries around; somewhere between Batman and Spider-Man I’d say. A lot of the Doctor’s foes are essentially entire races of absolute bell-ends: from fascist pepperpots to militaristic potato people to homicidal stonework. This is because, like a lot of other big serialised heroes, the Doctor works best when put up against an idea; messy, chaotic, fallible individuality put up against homogenised, emotionless authoritarianism. “The man who never would”, someone who feels they call themselves “Doctor” as a promise; never cruel or cowardly. It’s themes made form, subtext given substance, man against machine. And it works; different generations are able to use, say, Cybermen as a cypher for one contemporary ill or the other. Fascism, communism, consumerism, authoritarianism, racism, whatever: all are suitable backstory for this weekend’s bought of action and adventure.

So that’s where we are; nearly seventy years of Doctor Who, part of a celebratory centenary of BBC-dom, distilled into a decad of villainy.

The Master: despite (or because of) all that gumph I just spouted about the best Who baddies being ideas or isms, my favourite is just a person. It’s the traditional evil-version-of-our-hero trope; whatever the Master’s various schemes are, there’s always a personal touch. Different writers have enjoyed toying with the relationship between the Doctor and the Master, offering different reasons for their relationship; but between the tragic symmetry of the two last Time Lords in Russel T Davies, or the complicated quasi-friendship developing when Master became Missy under Steven Moffat’s pen, we’ve had some truly excellent, emotional storylines. And, I’m sorry, but Sacha Dawan’s “Spy… Master” twist is the best moment in the Thirteenth Doctor’s era.

Daleks: the most iconic of Who’s parade of bastards, the Daleks are just utter, utter gits. Fascist little bogeys riding around in dustbins waving plungers at people, they still manage – in the right hands – to be unutterably terrifying. Their high-pitched staccato voices, their retro UFO spaceships, and the fact that – generally speaking – there are millions of the buggers makes them a force to be reckoned with.

Weeping Angels: say what you like about Steven Moffat, he knows scary, and the Weeping Angels are properly terrifying. Leaving aside the creepy religious iconography of haunted statues, the fact these buggers only move when you aren’t looking is just one of those all-time don’t-look-under-the-bed concepts of fear. They’re so well executed, so cool, so damn scary, that I’d argue they’re the only villain created since Doctor Who came back in 2005 that’s achieved the iconic status of the classic sixties baddies.

Vashta Nerada: what was I saying about Moffat tapping into childhood nightmares? He’s a right twat, really, because what he does, what he does, is he takes yer common-or-garden “thing that scares kids for no reason”, and despite parents’ protestations to the contrary, he gives a reason for it to be scary. Are you afraid of the dark? That’s because the dark is actually going to eat you. The Vashta Nerada are basically the concept of fear itself made real, and they’re just creepy as heck.

The Family of Blood: unlike other generic races, this is one particular small group of people; a family of weird, psychic bodysnatchers who want to drain the Doctor’s lifeforce and achieve immortality. They’re creepy enough as it is, an uncanny family who refer to each other as “Sister of Mine” or “Father of Mine”; but it’s the story that’s the kicker here, as they force the Doctor to hide himself by becoming temporarily human. Yes, the Family are super-sinister and a genuine threat; but they also happen to be in one of the overall strongest two-parters of modern Who to boot.

Cybermen: whereas Daleks are a kind of faceless omnipresent evil, Cybermen are scary for slightly different reasons. Their desire is to not only EXTERMINATE but conquer, harvesting humans to create a new generation of Cybermen soldiers. Daleks are creatures of unwavering hate, fascism as born of racism and superiority; Cybermen are, alternatively, a relentless march of all-consuming progress and adaptation, of science untethered by morality. They may not hate like the Daleks, but their unfeeling assimilation and zombie-like gait is almost just as scary (thinking about it, the Borg probably owe them a drink).

The Silence: the Silence are cool partly because they look cool: freaky-deaky aliens with big heads and fat fingers, their skinny bodies shoved into cheap suits; there’s something old-school about them, and a touch of the Slenderman too. But it’s their gimmick that’s key, as we only remember they exist when we look at them, meaning it’s pretty easy for them to get away with murder; all we need to do is turn away for a second. The Doctor’s method of defeating them is pretty cool, too, but I shan’t spoil it here.

Sontarans: the Sontarans are great because they walk a fine line between being a threatening, credible foe, and also being essentially comic relief. Somewhat dumpy-looking folk with big, daft, round heads, they’re a hyper-militaristic race for whom victory in battle is the be-all and end-all; they’re basically Klingons turned up to eleven. And amongst their daftness and their effectiveness as a more human-esque army, we’ve also got Strax, the hilarious nurse-turned-butler to Madame Vastra and Jenny. I love a bit of Strax.

Zygons: whilst I’m not an authority on all ages of Classic Who, most of the characters on this list I’m familiar with from multiple episodes over many years. The Zygons, on the other hand, I only really know from the Capaldi-era two-parter, The Zygon Invasion/The Zygon Inversion, with its stunning “scale model of war” monologue. Shapeshifters can pose all kinds of quandaries for our heroes (looking forward to Secret Invasion, Marvel fans?), as well as providing a good deal of comedy (c.f. The Day of the Doctor), and I also really love the Zygons’ weird starfish-esque design.

Time Lords: one of the great things about the Doctor is they’re a renegade on the run; they’re fleeing from something, and that something is a society that is by turns oppressive, authoritarian, hubristic, or even just outright evil. The Time Lords are rarely straight-up villains but by contrasting their behaviour with that of the Doctor’s, we see the heroism and humanism in their character. Very often the Doctor is put in opposition to their own race, forced to defend themselves against the supposedly high-minded non-interventionism of the Time Lords; and, post-renewal, we also have the wrinkle of the Time War. The Doctor was prepared to sacrifice their own planet, their own people, because they felt Gallifrey had gone too far. The complicated feelings the Doctor holds for their own planet are believable, an extreme genre version of someone feeling embarrassed by their family after leaving home. The Time Lords, by being kin to the Doctor but crucially not like the Doctor, show the qualities of our hero. And one of them was played by James Bond.

Sorry. No room for the Adipose.

#top ten #doctor who #the power of the doctor #bbc 100 #bcc #centenary