(not) Peter Tork

Hello, I’m Davy Jones (no, I’m not) This account is for Monkees rp, to find more fans who would like to write and chat about my latest obsession.

Ask Rules:

>Asks can be for any Monkee

>Based more on the show than the real people because…boundaries

>No smut no how

>Minors can send friendly or platonic asks

>Glorified game of truth or dare with the band

> Save the Texas prairie chicken

“Now, hang on just a minute—“ Mike began until the magic did its work. He blinked for a minute, trying to remember what he was thinking earlier.

Wow, did he feel different. His head felt so much lighter, the colors around him seemed brighter. What were these feelings? Hope? Optimism? They were so foreign to him but felt so great.

Peter’s eyes narrowed, filled with a newfound awareness and concern. Suddenly, his brain was flooding with things he didn’t focus on before. Were the guys okay? Did they eat? Did the beach house need cleaned?

“This is bad.” Peter stated, looking at Mike, only to cringe when he saw the helpless and faraway look in his eyes. Wasn’t he aware of his surroundings? Sheesh, did Peter always look like that?

“What’s bad?” Mike spun around to face him.

“We need to swap back. This isn’t right.” Peter said.

“Oh, yeah?” Mike shrugged, “I guess so. I mean, it’ll probably wear off, right?”

“But what if it doesn’t?” Peter put his hands on his hips and gave him a look, “We need to put things back the way they were.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at the request, “Really?? You want to hug me?? Well, heh, sure! Of course.”

It was the most wholesome request he ever heard. He was surprised anybody wanted to hug him, so he was more than happy to oblige. He immediately wrapped his arms around the asker, giving them a gentle squeeze and rubbing their back, a big grin on his face.

“Thank you!! I—wait, ‘gurl’?” Micky read over the words again, baffled, “Guys! What does it mean when somebody calls me a California…gurl? Like ‘girl,’ but spelled differently. Is that a compliment?”

The guys all huddled over the message and chattered amongst themselves, the band trying to decode this message with their limited knowledge of future trends.

“Is this because of those times I dressed like a woman for a plan we had?” Micky wondered.

“Maybe they’re saying you’re pretty like a girl?” Peter offered.

“I think it’s a compliment, I guess?” Davy tilted his head.

Here Micky!! I finished it :D Hope you like it silly

“YES!!” Micky gasped and beheld the picture with delight, “Look at me! Wow, I’m so handsome.”

Mike looked over his shoulder and laughed, pointing at the little figure behind the drawing of Micky, “Aww, there’s me too. I’m sad about losing my hat. Isn’t that true to life?”

Micky slowly turned to Mike after getting an idea, an evil grin spreading on his lips.

“Has it been that many times?” Micky counted on his fingers, looking up at the ceiling for a bit as he tried to think, “Huh. I guess I have. I mean, have you tried jumping off from high places? It’s fun!”

The guys all let out a collective breath then looked at each other, tumbling into guffaws and awkward laughter.

“I say, uh, we start this off with the expert here. Davy?” Mike rested his face in his hands, batting his eyes exaggeratedly at his British friend.

“Expert? Please..” Davy acted innocent, but there was a playful knowing grin, “I’d say I like lots of different girls. Every girl I’ve met has had something special about them.”

“Yeah, like conniving villains looming over their shoulders, typically trying to steal some kind of inheritance…” Micky coughed into his arm.

Davy shot him a look, “Anyway—I don’t think I have a type, per se. I like blondes, I like brunettes, I like tall girls and short girls and everything in between. She’s just got to have that spark.”

“She just has to be looking in his direction.” Mike added.

Davy rolled his eyes, “And as for an ideal date…I guess I’d like to take her out dancing. I feel you get the most chemistry on the dance floor. When you just let yourself be carefree and enjoy the music. Alright, now somebody else go.”

“My science teacher.” Micky jokingly looked off in the distance, as if swooning before bursting into laughter, “Uhh—I think I like girls that don’t take themselves too seriously. And I like girls with a good personality. If she’s pretty, that’s nice, but she’s got to have a personality too. I like fun-loving girls who go with the flow and I can be myself around.”

“Aww that’s nice, Mick.” Mike cooed, like a proud father.

“For an ideal date, it completely depends on my mood. We’ll find out when we get together,” Micky shrugged, “I need to know what she likes too. Whether we’re going to the beach or to the movies or—hey, I’d take her on safari. You’d see us sail away in a canoe, honestly if she wanted to. What’s wrong with that?”

Mike furrowed his brows and looked away, trying to tell if the last couple things Micky said sounded familiar or not.

“What about you, Mike? What’s your type of girl?” Davy asked.

Mike’s cheeks turned pink and he glanced down, suddenly finding the bottom of his shoe really interesting, “Oh, you know I’m married, man. To the job, that is. I’m too busy with work and bills and taking care of you guys to think about girls.”

“But if you had to pick?” Micky wiggled his brows.

Mike sighed, knowing he wasn’t getting out of this, “I guess…warmth, sincerity, and just femininity. I like girls with pretty eyes. Someone patient. I’m, uh, not the most romantic guy in the world. Maybe just take the girl on a nice dinner and get to know her. Someone that’s nice to talk to, have deep conversations with.”

“Awww,” all three of the other Monkees chorused.

Mike sent them the stink eye, “Don’t do that.”

“What about you, Pete? What do you got?” Micky turned to the last member who hadn’t gone yet.

“Uhhh, oh man. This is hard.” Peter’s face scrunched up tight, “I’m not sure. Just…somebody who is nice and thoughtful. Someone who is artistic and creative. Smart but not snooty. Has a nice smile. I guess I’ll know for sure when I find her.

“I’d probably take her to look at the stars. Maybe we could set up a picnic on the roof and just look over the world together.”

“That was really deep, Peter.” Davy commented, a little surprised.

i’m already working on this drawing BUT i think itd be fair to show you the progress anyway. there’ll be more art though!! trust me.

“Well, thank you!!” Mike let out a low whistle, impressed by the art in progress, “You made me prettier than Elvis Presley here, killer. It’s a mighty fine piece of art there but I don’t think I look that good.”

“You look very pretty, Michael!” Peter made an offended face, “I think the artist did perfect. Or is doing—still doing.”

I drew these pictures of you

uh, yeah

*skitters away*

A large grin burst on Mike’s face as he held the pictures, “Wow, just lookie here. These are all amazing, killer. I love how you captured my hat then the shades you gave me in the second picture. Just…”

Mike gave a thumbs-up, causing the other guys to gasp.

“His thumb is up! The artist got a thumbs up!” Micky cried.

“Pistachio,” Mike answered first then chuckled and shook his head, “I’m fairly confident we wear wigs every day. For whatever disguises we need to cook up to get out of a jam or two.”

“Say, where do we get those?” Micky asked.

“You know how television studios are.” Davy replied and waved a dismissive hand, “Er, I like strawberry ice cream myself.”

“I like butter pecan.” Peter shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

mike, what if i drew you? mainly because you’re the only one i know how to draw properly?

Mike briefly looked over his shoulder, assuming the person was talking to Micky, but no. The question was for him. He cleared his throat and blinked as he processed this before humbly replying,

“Uh, oh, I see. I guess there’s no harm in that. I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

“Wait a minute. Are you blushing?” Davy pointed at Mike’s cheek, poking where he was starting to go red.

“Well, fellas…” Mike looked at Micky and Davy after they read the request, “You know what we got to do.”

Micky and Davy both saluted dutifully.

Throughout the day, Peter was visited by all three guys at separate times for his pettings.

The first time was around lunch, Mike had brought home Chinese takeout and Peter rushed up like a golden retriever, happy to see him and eager to help him with the bags. After he did, Mike ran his fingers through Peter’s blond mop and gave it a little shake.

“Thanks, Pete.” Mike told him.

The blond blinked in confusion but accepted the affection in gratitude, smiling immediately.

The second petting was from Micky who felt that he had to come up with an elaborate plan. He came up to Peter around 3pm in a lab coat and his curly hair a natural mess.

“Peter! Quick! I need your help with an experiment!” Micky told him, putting on a funny voice, as per his schtick.

“Yeah? What kind of help?” Peter furrowed his brows.

“Just stay right there…yes…” Micky looked down at a clipboard and scribbled down some nonsense on it before reaching out and petting Peter’s hair, “Excellent, excellent. Thank you, Peter! That is all.”

“That’s it? But all you did was touch my head..”

“Yes! Very helpful.” Micky reached out his hand and gave him a treat, “Good boy!”

“Ooh, Goldfish!” Peter ate the treat out of his hand and hummed happily, his earlier confusion forgotten.

It was 8 o’ clock at night when it was down to the very last Monkee to do his job.

“Come on, Davy, we all agreed.” Mike told him, the three boys huddled in the corner as they watched Peter dozing off on the couch.

“We’ve all done our part.” Micky folded his arms, giving Davy a look.

“It just feels funny with all this pressure. What if he thinks I’m being a weirdo?” Davy shifted awkwardly.

“But we’re already long haired weirdos.” Micky pointed out.

Davy thought about it for a moment then nodded in agreement, “That’s true, that’s true…alright then. Here goes nothing.”

He marched right up to the sofa and just went for it, petting Peter’s head.

The blond flinched, “Woah! Oh, hey, Davy. How are you doing?”

“Fine, and you?” Davy tried to remain casual.

“Pretty good! Everyone is being so nice to me today.” Peter grinned.

I’ll draw you for free !! What should I draw you doing XD You’re my fav monkee after all and deserve more love yesyes

(ooc: sorry for sending so much asks I just get bored and I want to support this blog!! ;) )

“Gosh-a-rooney! For free?” Micky’s eyes were practically sparkling, only for the boy to burst into a little fit of giggles when he heard he was the favorite, “Well, gee! Lemme think. Uhh…me with a million dollars?”

Peter stood in the background, holding the picture, ‘Money is the root of all evil.’ Shaking his head in disapproval.

“Okay, never mind. How about me with a beautiful woman?” Micky’s lips spread into a goofy grin, a thought bubble floating over his head showing a daydream of him holding hands and walking down the beach with a pretty girl.

Even in his dream sequence, Davy passed by and smiled at the girl—so she promptly left Micky to go with Davy. The thought bubble popped shortly after and had him shaking his head, violently.

“Well, it’s kind of a funny story…” Mike began, rubbing his bottom lip as he thought about it, “We were back at the pad, sitting in the kitchen. Peter had picked up a book from the library about endangered animals when he came across the Texas Prairie Chicken.

“He asked me, since I’m from Texas, if I’d ever seen it and I thought we were talking about a regular ol’ chicken here…turns out, it was the ugliest looking thing I ever saw in my life. So, I started laughing. Peter said that this was no laughing matter, these guys are in danger. So I replied, ‘we can’t have that. We got to save ‘em.’ Now it’s just my favorite thing to say. Makes me crack up every time I think of the creature, they got these big orange things off the side of their head…”

Mike could hardly get through the story without giggling.

“I still have yet to see what this chicken looks like. He keeps talking about it, but I don’t know…” Davy shrugged.

“I used to date a girl in school who looked like them.” Micky commented, nodding knowingly.

“I don’t think they’re ugly…” Peter sent an accusatory look at Mike, “I think they’re cute and they deserve to be…not endangered.”

“Peter,” Said Mike, Micky, and Davy at the same time.

“What?! Why?!” Peter frowned.

“Well, let’s face it, man, you…” Mike paused and tried to think of the best way to put this, “We know you wouldn’t have it in ya to eat us. Actually, I think you’d volunteer. You’re just so darn selfless.”

He avoided the obvious parts like how Peter probably wouldn’t be very helpful if they were deserted on an island.

Peter thought about it for a moment then nodded, “I guess that’s true.”

“It just means you’re the most delicious.” Micky offered.

Peter smiled, “I’ll take that! Thanks, guys.”

Micky held the picture in his hands for the longest time, speechless and staring.

“Micky…?” Mike snapped his fingers in front of the other guy’s face, “Yoo-hoo! Micky? Uh, you’re starting to scare me, pal…”

Micky simply started tearing up, “This…is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen—I AM HANGING THIS UP!”

He hurried to the wall and took the, “Money is the root of all evil” picture down, replacing it with the new drawing.