#Bob Ross looks confused

[bitchimasnake-sss]

hi! could i request some luffy fluff? i love how you write his dialogue, so maybe some pet names he would use? 🌸🦋

you have put an idea into my head that'll be very hard to get rid of @kingofthe-egirls hehe. the fic starts off as a crack!fic but i'll make it sweety-sweet towards the end!

the worst mistake ft. monkey d. luffy!

set-up: my headcanons based on what lovely @kingofthe-egirls asked! just our captain luffy and his absurd fucking nick-names.

warning: wholesome! more of a crack!fic (i dont know if its even remotely fluffy im sorry) than anything else. i do love me some good, self-indulgent stupid with my fav man on the sea :)

💗mistakes are a normal part of life. as bob ross said, "there are no mistakes, just happy accidents." well, he had clearly never made this catastrophic mistake. you had jokingly called luffy "bugaboo". emphasis on jokingly. 💗the sun was setting and you both were sitting on his bed, recalling the time zoro got lost and accidentally stumbled into a river-stream where local women were bathing. and afterwards how sanji wailed when he realized he wasn't there to witness it. your crew was weird, there was no doubt about it. but that wasn't the focus of the conversation. "heh" he snorted, "what did you call me?" "bugaboo?" you laughed, poking his cheek teasingly, "why?" he looked at you with his wide-eyed, honeyed gaze, "what does it mean? am i a bug?" with his wide eyes and stretchy smile, one might say so. but you didn't tell him that.

"its means... nothing?" you smiled softly, tracing your finger on the scar 'neath his eye, "it's just a nickname, baby. just something said out of affection." "out of affection?" he looked at your confused, "so anything can be a pet name?" you nodded in agreement, "pretty much, luff." worst fucking mistake of your life. 💗it was past dinner. and you and the captain were about to fall asleep to the noise of the crew chattering outside. "hey?" luffy hummed. and you hummed back in acknowledgement. "rice cooker." he mumbled into your chest, "you smell so nice~" you choked on your breath, spluttering, "lu-luff? did you just complement the rice cooker??" "no?" he looked up at you, bringing his finger to boop you on your nose, "i mean you. you, rice cooker. you smell so good, is it the soap sanji brought from that isla—" but you weren't listening to him. was he insulting you?? was he saying you were built like a rice cooker???? was he asking you to make him some rice, hence, you were the "rice cooker"?????? "luffy," you looked at him, concerned, "what do you mean rice cooker?!" "what?" he laughed, "it's a pet name. you said that a pet name can be anything?" when you stared at him, still concerned, he explained himself, "i mean like... i like you, i like rice cooker. cause it cooks rice—" "—go to sleep, luffy."

💗you had to clear it to him the next morning that nicknames cannot be that absurd. and when he asked you what qualifies as a nice pet-name, you tried really hard to think of some. "oooh, you like food right?" his eyes twinkled up at the mere mention of the topic. you grinned, satisfied, "so, like honey, sugar, pie, cherry. these are all examples of good pet names." he nodded at you with conviction in his eyes, as if he truly got you now. 💗it was lunch time now. and after beating up a marine ship, the entire crew was waiting for sanji to finish cooking so you could all stuff down some food. you were next to robin, sun-bathing and chatting ideally about a book she had lent you. she made a joke about how the character was dumb and you nodded and laughed along. in the midst of it, your boyfriend came and stood next to you, "hey?" both you and robin looked at the captain. you gave him a welcoming smile, "what's up, babe?" "so..." he looked over robin for a second before looking back at you. "i was just saying that i love you very much, my bombocado." his bombo- what? but before you could inquire him, he giggled and ran away. what??? and you resorted to look at robin, a bit confused. she replied back easily, "it's a brazilian dessert." is it now?

💗"what do you mean?" the captain looked at you confused when you told him bombocado wasn't a great pet name. "then, what else is a good nickname?" "i dunno." you sighed, "something normal like cherry or something." but that had opened yet another pandora's box. because now every time he saw you, he would refer to you as some fruit: "hey there, banana~" "i love you, my java plum." "should we go out on a date, pineapple?" "you look so pretty, my dragon fruit." a pause, "hey. my dad's name is dragon!!" you had given up on the idea of pet names. you would rather be addressed by your government given name than a pinecone. but now you were stuck with these absurd names. how wonderful. (but, i mean it was luffy who was saying them, so, you didn't exactly mind too much but when the entire crew caught on. boy the humiliation, the drama.). 💗but then one day, before drifting off to sleep, he slowly whispered, "i love you, cupcake." you almost jumped up in victory. almost. but instead, you chose to pet his hair softly and kiss him on his forehead, "good night, muffin." "—i love muffin." you kissed his forehead again as his hair tickled your skin, "ofcourse you do. goodnight, baby." "goodnight, honey nuts." just give up on ever having a normal nick name. i'm sorry. it won't happen.

💗jokes aside, here's my actual list of names that i think luffy would call you: 1. peach (cause you're sweet (in more ways than one) and because you once told him it meant ass and he laughed for 15 mins cause peach means ass) 2. mama (idk, sounds good to me? sounds like something he would just go along with) 3. lovebug (he once heard sanji say it and he thought it was so cute cause if hes a bug and you're a bug then you both together can be a bug-couple) 4. mi amor (heard sanji say it, thought it was pretty) 5. hot stuff (ussop convinced him that's what he calls kaya and kaya loves it) 6. sunshine (because you're his sunshine, what's not clicking??) 7. angel (because you're an angel, again, where's the confusion??) well, at the end of the day it doesn't matter what he called you. what mattered was that, you could come collapse in his arms. and he would squeeze his arms around you and tell you how he loved you. what were a few corny petnames to endure if you got all of his love in return?

a/n: i am convinced this is simultaneously the best and worst thing i've ever written. i hope it was atleast mildly satisfying @kingofthe-egirls <3

[diddybok]

Run to You | Minsung part II

all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in any way represent nor reflect the people in real life :)

➩pairing: ex!minsung x gn!reader

➩genre(s): angst, split pov

➩warnings: swearing

➩wc: 1.4k (1418)

➩author’s note: yous wanted a happy ending? heh…heh heh…not on my watch :| jk it’s up for interpretation

➩part(s): previous

See you don’t think it was foolish of you to still hold on to hope. Hold on to the fact that maybe, just maybe, you could get closure from all that happened.

Which is exactly why you didn’t block their numbers. For some silly little reason, you had hoped they’d at least send you a message asking where you went.

Nothing.

It has been nothing for a painful two months.

How you went from the apple of their eye to the forgotten apple core in the trash in a span of a week is truly uncanny.

It’s ridiculous and it still makes your right eye twitch if you think about it too long. Though, you have found many ways to divert your attention away from those two boys.

At least you thought you did.

Minho blinks once, twice, rubs his eyes then refocuses them on the spot in which you stand browsing through the clothes on the shelves.

He can feel the bile travelling up his throat and threatening to make an extravagant exit out of his mouth.

The colour drains from his face as he watches your delicate hands pick up a shirt and assess it. You’re probably thinking of ways you could style yourself in the outfit, the scrunch of your nose and furrow of your eyebrows suggest just as much.

His tongue feels heavy with the unspoken words he longs to say ever since he woke up that morning to you gone.

It confused him at first, seeing you not in bed. Thinking that you had just woken up early and was making yourself breakfast. But as he went downstairs and was met by the monotonous ticking of the clock and the hum of the fridge in the kitchen, he swore his heart skipped a beat.

It felt hard to swallow. It was as if something was lodged in his throat.

Guilt.

Seeing your key upon the kitchen island made him viscerally recoil and race upstairs to tell Jisung.

Frantically checking the wardrobe, dresser and bathroom for your things that were no longer stored in their rightful place.

Safe to say he broke down crying. Literally. He fell to his knees once he noticed the empty cup that used to hold your toothbrush and poor Jisung had to not only deal with the reality of which you had left them, but the sorrowful sight of Minho and the impending heartbreak that was to crush his delicate organ.

He wanted to message you. He really did. But there was a constant nagging in the back of his mind. “Leave Y/n be.” “They clearly want space away from you.” “You probably drove them away, you don’t deserve them anyway.”

Jisung tells him that maybe you just needed a break. That you would come back once you had calmed down, give them a call and things could go back to normal. “Give them a week,” Jisung said, “Maybe it all got too much for Y/n” He said.

Well…Jisung said that a month and a half ago. Now he stands in the clothing store, holding his head down as he hides behind a clothing rack; sparingly glancing over at you.

His feet ache to walk him over to where you stand. His hand reaches out to touch you. His mouth falls open to call your name.

He pretends to be busy with looking through the women’s sleepwear as his mind runs a thousand miles a minute.

“Minho?”

The way he could hear your voice so clearly in his head. It is like no memory was forgotten. Even as he looks down at the floor, he notices shoes that look akin to yours. Even having the little red stain on the top of your shoe from when you were pretending to paint like Bob Ross.

“Minho.”

His eyes widen as his neck almost snaps with the way he spins around so fast to see you. Just you.

He doesn’t know what to say. He hadn’t quite prepared what he was going to say in the time he was hiding behind the rack to you appearing behind him.

“Y/n…hey-hi. Hello.”

You look at him. No, you look straight through him. It’s as if your eyes are devoid of any emotion that you once had reserved for him and Jisung. When once he could feel the love from a longing gaze, he now feels goosebumps rise on his skin.

He can’t even hold back the way his eyes start to shimmer in the poorly lit store. Yet you aren’t a fool, you were always good at knowing whenever he got emotional. You would comfort him immediately. But you just stand there, your head tilting slightly.

He’s perturbed by your lack of reaction, but can he blame you? He made no effort to contact you once you had left. He is lucky he even gets you staring at him albeit like you just witnessed him kick a puppy.

All it took was one inhale. One inhale before you were rinsing into him. “You treated me like the shit on your shoe!” You would yell. An accusatory finger jabbing at his chest. The tears that threatened to fall from the corner of your eyes.

Boy oh boy did you let him know just how badly he and Jisung fucked up. How he used you, took you for granted. How he never gave back the love you were so generously going above and beyond to give to them.

The more you said, the more examples you shared of when he and Jisung made you feel like the third wheel. He couldn’t help himself as he started to sob. His tears fell down his cheeks and into his mouth.

Poor thing, you started to outright shake with anger as you just ripped him apart. And he stood there and let you. It’s the least he can do.

It wasn’t long until his confrontation with you alerted the casual consumers and an extremely bored store clerk who ushered the two of you out of the store.

The fresh air seemed to help you calm your erratic nerves. You couldn’t even look at him. Minho is almost regretful that he said to Jisung he didn’t have to join him with his errands today because he feels as if he is ready to break down any moment now and he needs the support from Jisung.

Oh.

Oh.

It’s like he was slapped in the face by your words, but he has now just been backhanded with realisation. He gets it now.

You needed them. You needed their support and they weren’t giving it to you. It’s as if it was muscle memory, to just gravitate to Jisung because it always was him until it was you and him.

The fact that it took him this long to realise. It took him seeing you sniffle and frustratedly wipe your tears that race down your cheeks to finally understand that you were calling out to them.

His hand instinctively reaches out to clasp your hand in his, but he acquiesces. He chooses to let it fall by his side, balling up into a fist.

“I’m sorry.” He said, his voice breaking into a choke. He hangs his head down in shame, remorse, cowardice.

“So am I.” You would say before ultimately leaving him. Figuratively and literally.

He isn’t sure how long he stands there frozen. Maybe seven minutes, perhaps thirty seconds.

All he knows is that it was too long. Too long to let you walk out of his life again without doing something to stop it.

He promised himself that night that he would never make that mistake again. So he lifts his head, looking frantically to figure out where you would’ve gone.

It’s as if the universe has granted him a second chance as he sees you in the distance. Just visible before he loses sight of you within the horizon.

Of course he doesn’t think as his feet start to move before his brain can process what he is doing.

As he runs he can hear the beating of his heart as it pumps for you. The blood rushing through his veins as it gives him energy to catch you.

Lest he lose the chance to fight for your heart and soul again, he runs like his life depends upon it. For you were never the missing piece of a puzzle, but the whole picture they longed to seek.

And now he can see it clearly.

ʚ hope you enjoyed ^.^ you can support me by liking, commenting and reblogging! it is heavily appreciated ᵕ̈ ɞ

i do not permit my work to be translated or reposted in any way, thank you.

© 2023 diddybok

general taglist: @spacegirlstuff @chengmeiauau

[dismissivedestroyer]

Hi! So I want to make a Spooky Month OC but I suck at drawing, do you have any tips or advices about drawing characters in the Spooky Month artstyle?

Okay so, I might not be the right person for this, cause I also am not all that great at drawing in the Spooky Month artstyle, but I did some character design at school so I might be able to give a few tips! Please do take everything I say with a grain of salt tho!

Spooky Month's strong suit is definitely character design. It's SO expressive and well done it's genuinely unreal. You might want to know exactly what your character is gonna be doing, or how their personality is gonna be like, because character design in Spooky Month cares a lot about things like these. For example: Radford works at a cinema, so of course he's wearing 3D glasses, but also his HAIR IS LITERALLY SHAPED LIKE A POPCORN.

So maybe decide on a job for your character, and try to start from there, get crazy with shapes and have fun! Spooky Month characters have designs that are both extremely simple to draw, since they use mostly basic shapes, but also are extremely thought out and meaningful. Another example of great character design is Pump

Now, I have no idea if you already had an OC in mind, but make sure to choose the right shapes to represent it. Something I see around in the fandom is people making these OCs that are like, serial killers and dangerous people and stuff, but then give them the "Lila"-like oval head. And honestly, nothing wrong with that, that's a choice you can use! But still, shapes allow us to understand a lot about how a character is just by looking at them. So you might want to experiment around a bit!

Ovals in Spooky Month are the "good" shape, let's just say. Most character with an oval head are sweet, helpful, kind-natured! It's often paired with oval eyes, so it's mostly a shape that's used for not villainous characters.

Circles are a bit more complicated, because Spooky Month subvertes the Circle Characters. While yes, they're also used to draw children, such as Skid and Pump, so they may come off as unthreatening at first, most main villains, such as Eyes, Bob and Dexter Doll (which is meant to represent the likes of a child, so that's a nice contrast), are mostly circle-shaped.

There's a very wide range of Square characters in Spooky Month. Square characters are usually bulky, big and strong. They often come off as threatening (such as Moloch), but there are so many other fun things you can do with them. Like, take Frank. EVERYTHING in his design should alarm us, him being square-shaped, the black eyes, the wide smile. Yet, he has a shape of the eyes that's very relaxed and chill, so we end up trusting him. As for Dexter, he's a mix of circles and squares, so we can't really understand his intentions right away, because he's shaped in the most confusing way possible. He's just made to be unsettling and leaving us to wonder if he's a bad guy or just an oddball.

You can do SO MANY fun things by mixing up shapes of faces and eyes it's INSANE. Also, you can mix up other characters' features to create a new one, if you're planning to do a fankid or stuff like that. Look at Ross, he's literally a mixture of all his parents' features!

My main tips for drawing in the Spooky Month artstyle are mostly

1) Play around with shapes. Be as cartoony as possible.

2) Try to be consistent with proportions, because, based on personal experience, if you draw the pupils of the eyes slightly off it changes the whole character's expression drastically

3) don't worry too much about details, Spooky Month has a very simple artstyle. You don't have to draw a perfectly anatomically correct hand, just whip up some cartoony three-to-four fingers and you're good to go

4) try to redraw some pre-existing screenshots from the serie to get familiarity with the way Pelo draws expressions. It helps a bunch.

So yeah, that's all! Good luck with your oc :)

[imjustamime]

I made a random thing. Very random even I'm confused on what my brain just created. What if something happened and everything got swapped? And I don't mean the usual like Bob swapping Lila and so on, I mean everything was randomised.

Personalities are the same with a few changes.

Kevin replaces Lila. Carmen replaces Jaune. Ignacio replaces Kevin. Aaron replaces Jack. Jaune replaces John. Lila replaces Patty.

That's all I really had so far, idk what I wanna do for John, Jack, Frank, Radford, Streber, Rick and other adults.

Lore wise? Ignacio is still part of the cult, Carmen is still her usual self but is a sort of better mother than canon, Kevin is like his normal self, but he looks after Skid, Susie and Pump because Mr Wonder is dead, and since their parents are always busy and Lila is almost always working, Kevin reluctantly took them in. Aaron and Jaune, like John, lost Ross. We dunno if Hope is dead or just missing, so the same will be said for Ross. Roy hangs around with Susie, Skid and Pump, while still being a little bit of a bully, but not as bad as in canon.

I dunno what I wanna do with John and the others. Maybe Hope can replace Ross' place in the hatzgang and Robert is still Robert. Maybe Radford could be swapped with Rick or something. (Maybe Rick could replace Carmen hahehe) Idrk.

Some aspects will be more like a plot hole/confusing or need to be changed, but for now that's all I have. Maybe I'll do some Screenshot redraws with this AU :P

Also when I say replaced, I mean like swapped but not properly swapped? I think I just made it 10x more confusing.

Funfact: this is most likely confusing because I dont think before posting my ideas, I just write on the post until I give up and post it 😭 (it is 1:21am bro I need sleep lmao)

Im defo gonna look back at this in the morning and think 'what the fuck-'

[mybrokenveins3000]

Everyday Rockstar - College!Ross Macdonald

A/N: Hi babies, me again. College!Ross was only supposed to be a oneshot but my delusional ass going-to-uni-in-two-weeks self wants more. Like I always say, delusion is manifestation. Anyways, enjoy!

word count: 1.1k

♫ The City - The 1975

The annoying one on your course invited you to one of his band's gigs. You weren't expecting much, I mean, this was Matty we're talking about. You could see it now, him parading across the stage with a beer bottle in hand and his shirt unbuttoned. However, what you weren't expecting was who he'd been sharing the stage with.

You and your coursemates are running a bit late. Despite it being two months since you moved out here to the city, you're all still figuring it out - the right bus routes to take, how much alcohol is too much, what shoes not to wear on any given occasion.

The wet, November pavement reflects the air back colder than it is. As you open the doors, you accept the warmth in the pub like an old friend. Your entrance is punctuated by loud drums and droning vocals, not to mention THE 1975 printed in blocked letters on what seems to be a pinned up old bedsheet. Yup, definitely Matty's band.

Your preconceptions were correct. There Matty was scantily-clad with a bottle in hand. But not of beer - wine. How pretentious. So French New Wave of you, you thought.

But next to him was someone familiar.

"Ross?" you whisper to yourself. You stand in shock, squinting hard as if to take a picture. You are mesmerised by the simultaneous nonchalant power and peace he brings on stage.

It caught you off guard how incongruous the History student was to the setting and yet how perfectly he fit in a dark, sultry place like this. He was wearing a black leather jacket, a far cry from that hoodie you stole from him just a month prior.

You and your mates walk into a gap in the crowd, not so dissimilar to a clearing in the woods. The song ends to which you all clap and holler as if your life depended on it. As you scream with adoration, he spots you.

His eyes widen like a child opening presents on Christmas. He smiles a smile so genuine it puts all of Matty's theatrics to shame. He's doing that thing where he looks down at the floor smiling, plays with the chain around his neck for a second. He's something out of a movie scene.

"Isn't that the guy you're hooking up with?" a disembodied head notices and exclaims behind you. You open your mouth but a response doesn't form. It's a yes or no question and yet neither response fits.

Ever since you met at that goddamn party, poured your heart out to each other, and ended up doing your laundry together, you both knew it would never be just hooking up. Heck, you haven't even done anything of that nature (yet), you've just been kissing, hanging out. Yes or no doesn't fit these weird romantically and sexually charged interactions you both have been having over the past month. So you turn to her and just shrug, mouth an "I don't know" much to both your confusion.

"This is a song called The City," Matty slurs down the mic. The percussion kicks in, heavy and confident.

There's a second before the other instruments follow suit where you wave at Ross and he waves back. It's this secret moment that's just yours. Blink and you'll miss it.

"You wanna find love, well, you know where the city is," your coursemate exclaims, like a drunken beat poet.

The bass rings right through you, your whole body reverberating under his hands, with every string he plucks. He catches glances at you as you bob your head and sway, eyes closed to really feel it. When your eyes aren't closed, you think he's made to be looked at like a Greek God on high platforms and by crowds bigger than these. It's like this for the entire show.

---

After the show, the pub is electric.

Matty's weak fist hits the side of your arm as he cries, "Ross is waiting for you outside!"

"Fuck you! You're actually not half bad, you know!" you hit him back with all the force he lacks and rush out through to the back smoking area.

The wet, cold air greets you as you walk through the door. "Ooh, it's cold out here," you shiver. Ross is right by the door, having just taken a cigarette out of the box. He's surprised by your arrival but smiles that same warm smile. "Matty said you asked for me?" you questioned.

The slightest eyebrow raise and air of confusion about him and you're prompted to go back the way you came. Trust Matty to embarrass you like that.

"No, no. Stay." Ross' hand grabs onto your wrist. His warm touch lingers a moment longer, it could melt your ice skin. It's a moment soundtracked by the muffled pop coming from inside and the hum of cars far away. You oblige to his request. He lets go of your wrist. You lean on the wall of the pub.

"Matty didn't mention you were a part of the band," you say, watching the buildings and stars twinkle in the distance, "as a matter of fact, YOU never told me you were a rockstar."

"I'm no rockstar," he laughs, raising the cigarette to his lips. Just as he lifts up his lighter, he decides to hand it to you. You step closer, looking at the lighter and then back at him. Since your first meeting, it always got so tense between the two of you. You light the cigarette, shielding the flame, hands grazing his lips ever so slightly. The smoke dances into the night as he blows out.

You break the silence. "Bass as well, best instrument out of them all... you were really good."

"Oh yeah?" he smirks.

"You were amazing... why didn't you mention it before?"

He touches his lips in contemplation, his gaze fixed on you taking in your smokey eyes and dark lips. You were made to foreground cityscapes, he wants to say. But all he manages is an "I don't know."

"God, if only I'd known I was brushing shoulders with a rockstar this whole time."

"Rockstar", he whispers. You catch him blushing almost as bright as the tip of the cigarette. You take note of his affinity to that particular word. An unconventional name to use on him later.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I love the city," you breathe out.

"The place or the song?"

"Both."

You wanna find love, well, you know where the city is. The lyrics, shared like a memory, waver in another moment of silence.

"Can I kiss you?" he finally says as he takes his cigarette from his mouth. His dark eyes are transfixed on your lips whilst he plays with his chain.

"Yes please."

And he kisses you. You fling your arms around his neck like you did that very first night. He wraps his jacket around you, as if to take all of you in.

He is the warmth when it's cold. He is the rare quiet to your fluorescent metropolis. The cigarette ash falls onto the pavement as it dwindles away in the background. The pop song inside fades to another. The cars keep passing through. It's another secret moment that is all yours.

A/N: FIRST AND FOREMOST, thank you to @hypersonic04 for help when I was brainstorming. You know I love you.

Right so I don't know Tumblr terminology, dunno what a blurb, oneshot etc. actually are. College!Ross was only supposed to be a oneshot (?), but because I'm continuing the story, it's technically not now, is it? Is it a series? I don't even know. I don't know what this is unravelling to be, in my head it's just a series of episodic vignettes in the same universe about the same person, not necessarily a series. If you have any input on the subject, by all means, tell me because I'm confusing myself.

Also, what do we think about college!Ross as a tag? I'm British so college means something different here, so when I write it I just have the image of a 16-year-old doing a vocational course in my head. The tag feels very American, but university!Ross or uni!Ross makes him sound like a unicorn or smth silly, student!Ross also sounds lame asf. ANYWAYS, I digress, I hope you liked this. And send me requests of what you wanna hear from me/just to chat &lt;3 <3

[heyidkyay]

I guess I’ll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part Twenty-One

A/n: Hey! Another part... my w key on my laptop is bugging and being very annoying, but only for the past half hour or so, so editing this has been >:| Anyway, hopefully you enjoy this next segment!

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: Eating, swearing, mentions of injury and anxiety, ANOTHER BAD attempt at Spanish...

Masterlist

--

I didn’t know if I was dreaming, making things up, or if he was actually there.

Everything else seemed to be real. The sheets that scratched at my exposed legs, the continuous beep of the monitor stationed beside me, the pounding in my head.

It must’ve been him. 

Still, I had to ask. “Am I still asleep?”

He looked at me for a long moment before he shook his head.

“Am I dying then?”

His lips pressed into a very hard line at that, but he couldn’t quite hold my gaze.

“Then why are you here?” I choked out next, that burn that often tingled its way up the back of my throat and licked at the skin of my cheeks was back again, but I couldn’t cry. I wouldn’t let myself.

George hesitated for a split second then took a step inside. I saw him swallow, throat bobbing, before he made a gesture towards the door. I nodded numbly in reply, not even aware of what he’d been asking for exactly until he closed it behind him. 

The shut door seemed to isolate the noise outside, leaving the two of us in this precarious little bubble that was sure to soon pop. He took another step closer, then one more, but halted by the end of my bed.

He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t. So I stared at him and waited. I’d been waiting long enough, what was a few more minutes?

Apparently it was just long enough for Matty to come barging back into the room, frowning down at the metal handle as the door swung open before him. 

“Did I shut that?” He asked out loud with a furrowed brow when he entered, shaking his head lightly as if trying to recall whether or not he really had. It was in that next second that he glanced upwards, I watched the way his bemused expression shifted entirely when his eyes focused on George. 

I could only assume that he was just as surprised as I’d been.

“What the fuck?” Matty said almost on instinct, confusion evident in his tone.

He froze mid-stride to gape at the tall drummer, who looked very out of place in the small hospital room, and blinked half a dozen times before he seemed to come to his senses. But Matty didn’t react the way I thought he would. I honestly figured that there’d be a lot more screaming involved, sort of similar to that of George’s last hospital visit.

“How’d you get here?” Was the first thing Matty asked and, although valid, was the last question I’d expected from him.

“Um,” George cleared his throat and my eyes shot away from Matty’s stilted form and over towards him, he was a tad bit twitchy, nervous almost. “Boarded the first plane I could. Was with Ross when you phoned.”

His voice only proved to ache me further and I had to focus very hard on simply breathing, seeing as though my eyes had already stopped functioning properly, like they were too scared he’d disappear if I dared even blink.

“You phoned Ross?” I heard myself ask, hardly even aware that I’d done so, too concentrated on the man stood before me, the exact one I’d been doing my very best not to think about for the last few weeks. Which had been hard enough after my short trip to Delia’s the other day. 

“‘Course I did.” Matty answered me and I forced myself to spare him a glance, fighting against the urge to simply ask George to come closer so that I could make sure he really was there. So I could just reach out and touch. “Messaged him and Hann to tell him what’d happened, then the ugly fucker phoned me. Though, he did talk me down from a fucking panic attack, so I rescind that previous comment.”

I couldn’t even muster an amused smile for him, head too heavy, mind too busy.

Matty turned to George then, “No one said you were coming though.” He scratched at the back of his neck and then proceeded to look between the two of us. “Do you, uh, do you want him in here?”

I finally blinked when I realised that the awkward question had been directed towards me and the face George pulled upon hearing it told me he obviously hadn’t thought that far ahead. Whether I’d be willing to have him here, even after he’d travelled over two thousand miles to see me.

Was that all it took then, I wondered, an ocean to separate us and he’d come running?

The thought made me feel far too many emotions at once and so I silently played Matty’s question over once more. Did I want him here? 

For the longest time I’d always felt like I’d put George through the ringer, during the time we’d spent together as friends as well as when we’d become something more. But looking back at our relationship, I’d never forced him to stay, to commit to all the baggage that appeared to trail behind me on the long rope which belonged to the noose I’d long since tied around my neck. He’d done that himself. He knew what he’d been setting himself up for.

I’d carried the guilt and the shame of my past for far too long, to the point it had seemed to affect the people I surrounded myself with, it made me put them on a pedestal, in a position higher than myself simply because they’d stuck around long enough, or hadn’t walked away when things had gotten tough.

But that was only because I’d never thought much of myself.

I’d always been confident, sure, quick to pick a fight and stick up for myself, knowing no one else would, but that was just a front. A facade I’d overused to the point where every one believed I wasn’t insecure, or lonely, or struggling. Because I was all of those things and more, I’d always been. I’d just been rather good at hiding it.  

And the way George had treated me, not just after things had ended between us, but when I’d fought to keep him in my life after the fact, and that night I’d gone round to his, as well as the time I’d spent in hospital with him having left me alone to ride there when I’d been hurt. Vulnerable. It spoke volumes.

So even though I had a million and one questions I wanted to ask him, I also had an answer for Matty.

“No, I don’t.”

—MATTY’S POV—

It was fucking depressing.

Not only had he been forced to spend even more time in a place he utterly despised, he'd also had the luck of the draw by having been chosen to babysit his giant of a drummer, who had yet to even utter a word since he’d been all but kicked out of Y/n’s room.

So now they were both stuck sat in a waiting room, listening to the ambience of the bustling hospital around them. Both of them in foul moods.

Matty huffed, unable to keep up the silence much longer. “You good?”

He was met with a minute scoff, but that was it as George continued to stare blankly at the white wall ahead.

Sucking in a breath through his teeth, Matty allowed his body to flop further into the uncomfortable chair he’d been sat in for most of the day now.

“Well, what did you really expect, mate?” He said after a stilted minute had passed, “I mean, you’ve been a prick to her for months now. Can’t really blame her for not wanting to see you now that you wanna talk.”

George shot him a dark glare, one which was quickly replaced with a remorseful sort of frown. He looked almost pitiful- it was proper sad. “I know.” He murmured, voice hoarse and quiet enough that Matty had to lean a little nearer towards him to hear better.

“Can I ask, like,” Matty prompted, “What was actually going through your head when you got on that plane?”

The drummer shrugged helplessly, then dragged a lazy hand down his face. He looked worn and tired, twice his age under lights that were clearly on the brink.

“Her.” George replied, “All I could think about was seeing her. I fucked it last time, I know that. But I was just so fucking terrified, mate. And when Ross got that call- I just had to see her. I couldn’t not.”

Matty nodded slowly, he could sort of understand it. George had fucked up, big time, yes. And he’d be paying for those mistakes for the rest of his life, but maybe he could make up for it now?

All these fucking maybes…

He exhaled heavily and just decided to bite the bullet, “You finally gonna tell her then?”

George’s shoulder sagged in a defeated shrug. “If she even lets me.”

Matty tried not to let his surprise show, even as he dipped his chin in a nod again. “Just have to wait and see then, ey?”

—

Me: Did you know?

Ross: Why hello to you too sunshine Ross: Glad to know you aren’t actually dying

Me: Ross. Me: George is here. In fucking!! Spain!!

Ross: Ah

Me: So you did know he was coming then

Ross: Tried to talk him out of it Ross: Figured it might be a bit.. weird? Him just turning up out of the blue but he was fucking frantic

Me: Yeah well now I’M fucking frantic Me: Why now??? After everything??

Ross: Only he can tell you that love

Me: You’re not helping. AT ALL.

Ross: What else did you expect from me?

Me: Idk Ross! Some sympathy at least, I almost died Me: Again.

Ross: You fainted Ross: But if ur gonna make a habit of it I reckon I can tone down the sympathy a bit Ross: You know how much I’ve spent on fuel since ur first visit??

Me: Wow so it’s come down to money huh?? Me: Still a stingy bastard even now you’re loaded

Ross: Uh how do you reckon I stay that way? Ross: Can you fuck off now and just go talk to G Ross: You want answers, he’s where you’ll find em

Me: :(( Me: I can’t

Ross: Why not?

Me: I’m not ready yet

Ross: Or are you just scared?

Me: Rude of you to call me out like that Me: Can’t someone just sedate me again??

Ross: Voice of reason here Ross: Just give him a chance to explain, he might surprise you

Me: You know something I don’t MacDonald?

Ross: 🤷‍♀️

Me: >:///

Ross: Glad ur ok tho x

Even with everything going on, Ross still had a way of driving me insane whilst also managing to make me smile. It was nice to know I could always count on him to be an A-Class prick (though charming in his own way) during the most difficult of times.

A rapid knock rattled then and I turned my phone off just as I looked up. Blinking at the sight I was met with, I was more than dazed by the person who stood there gazing down at the clipboard they held in their hand. 

I couldn’t help but silently question whether anyone else was going to magically appear in the doorway to my hospital room anytime soon… Or if it was merely just a coincident that two of the people I’d least expected to show up, actually did.

“Alvaro?”

It appeared that the handsome stranger I’d met at the bistro earlier in the week wasn’t just the handsome stranger who had charmed his way into sitting at my table and conversing with me over a love of literature, he was also a doctor. My doctor, or so I could only assume.

Alvaro’s piercing eyes swept up to find me at the sound of my voice and for a second I almost didn’t expect him to recognise me in return, but then he said my name. The surprise I felt was evident in his face too.

“Wow, this is-” The doctor begun.

“Unexpected?” I chuckled lightly as he slowly approached, he looked the same as how I remembered him but different somehow too. Maybe it was the white coat?

“Sí, aunque me alegro de verte.” Alvaro quipped back with a smile, he looked at me for a moment longer before he spoke again, seemingly realising just why we were remeeting. “This has never happened to me before,” He added with a tiny chuckle, slipping his clipboard under his arm.

“Really? Guess I must be special then.” I teased and made myself sit up a little further when he rounded the bed, “So you’re a doctor? How did this not come up before?”

He grinned when I did but then gifted me a small shrug, “You did not tell me what you do either.”

And I supposed that was fair, I acquiesced with a sly smile.

“So, is there any news? I’m feeling a lot better than I did when I first woke up.” I told him honestly and he glanced down towards his clipboard, thumbing at the few pages.

“They told me that this is your second time,” Alvaro mentioned, eyes flicking across the paper before they made their way back to me.

I nodded at him, “I was in an accident, back home. Um, just with a car. I hit my head then too, the wound is still fairly new.”

His lips pressed together, as did his brows, to create a displeased frown. “The old wound is fine. There was no need for any stitches this time around as well, but your friend told the nurses that you did hit the floor hard. Did you feel any symptoms before that?”

I thought about it and then recalled to him the dizziness I’d felt, as well as the exhaustion, but at the time I’d put them both down to the long day I’d had. 

Alvaro was seemingly in flat-out doctor mode now, re-asking questions a nurse from earlier already had, then shining a bright light in my eyes, humming as he looked things over. 

“Your tests have come back okay, there is no swelling on the brain, just a scalp-injury. Which is good. It’s what we were hoping for really.” He told me pleasantly, “But the fainting, that’s the issue.”

I chewed at my lower lip, mind flickering back to the room I’d spent weeks in, the same room they’d relayed to me everything that had gone wrong. My eyes casted themselves down to my cast on impulse and when I glanced back up, the expression on Alvaro’s face told me that he’d finally gotten that answer to the question he’d been asking just before Matty had interrupted us all those days ago.

“Post-concussion syndrome.” Is what he said next.

I frowned at him. “What?”

“That’s what we believe you are experiencing.” Alvaro clarified, he took perch on the very end of my bed, his white coat wrinkling as he turned to face me. “You told us about the headaches you been having, the drowsiness and weakness, the issue you have with your ear. It all leads to post-concussion syndrome.”

“Right.” I swallowed, thinking it over. “And is that… bad? I thought concussions lasted, what? A couple of days at most.”

Alvaro dipped his head once at me, “Typically they do. But head injuries they are strange and recovery is not a linear line. It does not happen quickly and is very different for everyone. When you had that accident, you suffered a lot of trauma to your head and the brain is a very fragile thing. This diagnosis is not bad, just something that had not been anticipated. It’s why you fainted, it is why you may faint again in the future, or experience the headaches and dizziness, as well as the ringing in your ears. You may even feel some anxiety and have issues with other things, like sleep, concentration, memory, and controlling your emotions.”

If I hadn’t felt broken before, I sure did now.

I must’ve looked a little out of it I supposed, because Alvaro placed a careful hand on top of mine and I peered up at him with stinging eyes.

“It won’t last forever. Just a little while. All you need now is rest and hope. ¿Sí?”

—

“Was that who I thought it was?” Came Matty’s baffled greeting as he stumbled into my room, casting greedy eyes at the back of the doctor who had smiled at him and trailed out the door just as he’d arrived. “Please tell me it was.”

I snorted softly, but conceded with a nod. “Mad, right?”

“You’re shitting me.” Matty muttered back, he shook his head before his attention zeroed in on me, “Did you two just have sex in here? Is he into role-play, were you playing his poorly patient?”

With a deadened expression I threw the closest thing I had to me in his direction. Matty squeaked and ducked just before the plastic cup could touch him, though the remnants of water that had lined it did catch the side of him. I grinned wickedly in retaliation whilst he gritted his teeth at the sudden dampness. 

“Almost looks like you’ve pissed yourself.”

Matty scowled and reached for a paper roll, violently ripping away so that he could dab at his shorts. “Haha, what are you, three?”

I shrugged with a forced smile, “Don’t say shit like that then.”

“What!” Matty squawked at me, bewildered. “You can’t expect me not to! He’s your flaming doctor! It’s insane.”w

With a roll of my eyes, I relaxed back in bed before shooting him a tiny smirk, one that had him making his way across the room to shuffle in beside me.

“What the fuck did you two say then? Bet you shit yourself.” He commented as he kicked his legs up over mine. “I’d’ve killed to have seen your reaction.”

“Trust me, I almost did shit myself.” I replied around a huff, “I mean, first George, and then him? Feels like a fucking revolving door.”

Matty snorted, falling further into my pillow so that he could turn his head towards me. “Love Island more like. Only, it’s just you three, and there are a few more braincells involved. It’s a lot more fucking interesting too.”

I swatted his arm lightly with a faint chuckle before I sighed. “Alvaro isn’t like that. He’s my doctor.”

“Alvaro, huh? Forgot he had a sexy name.” Matty hummed playfully, I tried to bite back a smile. “What did Alvaro want anyway?” 

Any amusement I felt flooded away and my gaze fell to the hands sat in my lap. Matty noticed, because he always did, and shuffled closer to take one hand in his.

I released a heavy breath, “They reckon I have post-concussion syndrome.”

“Right. And what’s that?”

“Just means it’ll take me a lot longer than we thought to heal. ’S why I fainted, why I might faint again. Why my hearing’s so fucked and why I either sleep too much or not at all. It's why I have migraines and get dizzy. Basically the reason why I feel so fucking shit all the time.”

Matty’s hold tightened a fraction before he decided to just wrap me up in his arms. “It’ll be alright, love. We’ll get you better, then put all this behind us, ey? Til then, we follow what the doctors say and do their fucking heads in.”

I gifted him a wet chuckle, “By doing what?”

“By annoying the fuck out of them until they let you leave this shit-hole.” Matty told me, quite seriously too, but then he could never seem to help himself, “Preferably with that fit doctor of yours’ number, yeah?”

I cackled and elbowed his side. He relented easily but was still smiling away whilst the two of us continued to talk about the most randomest of things, instead of the ghost who still lingered outside in the waiting room.

— 

I had actually fallen asleep, but hadn’t gotten much of it, seeing as throughout the night either Matty or a nurse had woken me up hourly to check on me.

So by the time the sun had risen I was bleary eyed and just itching to get out of the stuffy room, I was tired but hardly feeling the affects of it. There was too much anticipation over whether or not I could leave before our trips end for me to linger too long on it.

“Ah, and how is my favourite patient doing this morning?”

I glanced over towards the door with a smile for Alvaro, thanking the stars for Matty, who had sent George back to the villa to pick me up some clothes and other essentials. I’d’ve hated to have felt so disgusting in front of the young doctor, yesterday had been a fluke thing, no adonis of a man would be seeing me that way again. Not if I could help it.

“I’m good, tired but excited to leave this place.” I replied in truth.

Alvaro gave me a mocking frown in retort and placed a hand over his heart. “You wound me, corazón! Y aquí estaba yo creyendo que esa sonrisa tuya era mi sol!”

I hid my rapidly colouring cheeks from the man behind a hand and laughed, “Nothing to do with you! I’m just really tired of hospitals.”

He hummed, eyes twinkling as he gifted me a gorgeous smile. “You’re in luck then! You are allowed to leave-” A tiny squeal, which erupted from me, cut him off and made him chuckle, though he was quick to finish his sentence, “But! You have to make sure you rest, okay? Take things easy. I have some medication to prescribe, but other than that I only wanted to talk to you about your stay here.”

My head titled on its own accord. “What about it?”

“When are you meant to fly home?” He asked me and came to sit in the wooden chair opposite from where I sat crosslegged on the bed.

“Um, tomorrow night.” I told him, a tad bit confused. “Can I ask why?”

Alvaro smiled, “Nothing too bad. Just with your injury, it may be safer to wait a few more days before you fly. Or perhaps use another mode of transport.”

He must’ve seen the muddled frown I wore because he shifted on the chair, elbows coming to rest on his knees as he leant forward.

“With a small head injury it is typically okay to fly after a couple of days, but due to your previous accident I don’t want to risk anything. It is not only about the concussion, but your hearing also. The high altitudes increase cerebral blood flow to the brain which is why patients are advised not to fly straight away, it can increase pressure and worsen symptoms.”

“Okay.” I said slowly, swallowing as I thought things over. I had my next checkup in three days time. Matty had band rehearsals. He had meetings. Places to be. Events to attend. I had… my checkup.

“Is that manageable?” Alvaro’s question broke me from my whirling thoughts and I snapped my head up towards him. His eyes were on me, their colour rivalling the warmth of late spring.

I licked at my lower lip and didn’t miss the way his gaze trailed after the motion. “I have to talk to Matty about it, my friend.”

Alvaro dipped his head in understanding, “That’s fine. I can too, if it would make things easier?”

My eyebrows lifted up in surprise and I found myself nodding away before I could really stop myself. “Um, that would probably help a lot.” I released a hollow chuckle, but smiled a little more genuinely when our eyes met. 

The doctor mimicked the second gesture easily, “Then consider it done.”

Alvaro left shortly after our chat and Matty returned to the room a little while after with breakfast bags full of MacDonalds in hand, precariously balancing a tray of drinks on the crook of his elbow as he tightroped his way through the door. 

I was practically all ready to go, only waiting on my release forms now. I quirked a brow at the curly headed frontman just as he placed the food down on top of the moving table that hung over the end of my bed.

“Did you order everything on the menu?” I asked him, moving closer. I peered into one of the bags whilst Matty released an over exaggerated sigh.

“Had to, it all looked too good and haven’t had a maccies here since last tour.” He told me, grabbing at the closest latte available, “Plus, it’s like our last day here so I had to make the most of it innit.”

I grimaced into the face of a McMuffin. “About that…”

Matty raised a brow at my choice of words but didn’t look too bothered by them as he threw himself into the bed I’d previously made. I wanted to scowl at the action but couldn’t, too anxious about what would happen once I'd told him.

But before I even could, George appeared and my mouth quickly snapped shut. I cut a sharp glance over towards Matty, who avoided my gaze by staring up at the ceiling, tongue toying with the straw of his drink. I closed my eyes for a split second and took a breath. A very necessary one.

I looked over at George again, he was stood toeing the line to the door, as though he was scared he might go up in flames if he dared even cross it. I huffed and reluctantly shoved one of the brown paper bags across the table at him, “You gonna dance about there all day, or do you want some food?”

George’s surprise was noticeable but he hid it quickly, then made his way further inside, doing his best not to get too close as though he was afraid it might irritate me further. It did, but I was adult enough to breathe through it, turning my attention back over to where my so-called best mate laid spread out on the thin sheets.

“You two plan this then?” I asked out loud and Matty looked to me then with a faux expression of shock.

“As if our two single braincells could put something as brilliant as this together!”

I hummed sarcastically, “Don’t play stupid, Matthew. It suits you, but you’re better than that.”

George snorted at the quip and I did my best not to look his way, though I could hear a bag rustling just behind me.

Matty pouted but brushed the comment off, “Oi, G, toss me that tortilla, would you?”

A wrapped tortilla went sailing over my head, straight into the hands of the skilled musician and Matty grinned. 

“Cheers.” He said then took a victorious bite before looking at me expectantly, “Anyway, what were you saying, you know, before?”

“Oh.”

I gaped for a nanosecond, then just before I could come up with something to say, Alvaro waltzed back into the room. Only he wasn’t in his usual white coat and scrubs, no, in their place was a pair of pale green tailored trousers and a tan linen shirt, which he’d paired with a light jacket and some sleek trainers. My fish-mouthing was for a whole other reason now.

“Alvaro!” Matty cheered, grinning broadly as he waved the Spanish man in further.

Alvaro stepped inside, chuckling at his warm welcome. “Matty.” He greeted and then turned to me with a sincere smile. The only show of acknowledgement he showed George’s presence was a short dip of his head. “I was actually hoping to speak with you.”

Matty’s forehead furrowed briefly but he shrugged, “Yeah, ‘course mate. What’s up?”

Alvaro's gaze darted to me, apprehensive.

“Did you get a chance to mention it?” He asked me and I shook my head in return.

“They just got here.” I told him honestly, fiddling with the wrapper I held.

“Ah, okay. No worries, querida.” The doctor then pivoted back to Matty, “My office is just up the hall, would you be okay to speak there?” He also looked back to me just to make sure that it was fine with it too. I smiled.

Matty’s inquisitive nature had him jumping up off the bed and wolfing down what little remained of his tortilla without thinking it through, and he took his latte with him. “You gonna be okay?” He asked me quietly as he passed, a hand brushing my shoulder. I nodded mutely, feeling two sets of eyes on us.

Matty nodded too and went to make his leave, Alvaro paused before he followed though. “Are you still okay with it?” He questioned me and I was grateful for his cautiousness, his need to make sure he wasn’t overstepping. 

It was new. Something I hadn’t had much experience with in life. Having known the guys for as long as I had, there weren’t many boundaries you could set. How much you could or couldn’t tell them. We’re all just constantly in each other’s pockets- or at least we used to be.

Having that safety net there to catch me when I felt unsure, only validated my agreement to let Alvaro speak to Matty about it first, explain it properly. It definitely eased my anxieties around the matter. About putting Matty out, or having to face the fact that I might have to stay in a foreign country all alone. Prepared me a bit.

“Thank you, again.” I murmured to him just as he went to exit, and he merely gifted me a smile in return before he wandered after Matty.

Then it was just George and I. All alone.

The last time we’d been alone was out in that hospital hallway back in the Uk. He looked better now than he had then, but not by much. Nowadays he just looked like he hadn't been eating as much, leaner than he’d been since we were teenagers. His choice of clothing had changed somewhat too, it was darker now, grungier almost, than what I was used to.

“So what’s with Julio Iglesias?”

George’s snarky comment had me shooting him a narrow-eyed glare, but instead of retorting in the same manner, I simply reached for the iced coffee Matty had brought me and took a long sip.

I watched as George worked his jaw over, screwing his empty wrapper into a ball and tossing it into the bin nearby as he walked his way over to the window beside the bed.

“Why’re you still here?” I asked him, not unkindly, just curious as to what his answer would be.

His hooded eyes snapped over towards me, he had a palm splayed against the windowsill, leaning himself against it. The morning sun trickled over his stoic features.

“Why am I still in Spain, or here with you?” He retorted.

I looked at him, it had been a while since I’d even had the chance to. “Both.”

George shrugged one shoulder, the one he wasn’t using to bare the brunt of his weight with, and looked back at me. His brown eyes were so familiar, but still, they held so many secrets. “There are a lot of worse places I could be. And, you’re here, so I am too, I ‘spose.”

I couldn’t hold back the scoff I made. 

George sucked the inside of one of his cheeks against a row of teeth and nodded once. “Guess I deserve that.”

“And more.” I muttered, unable to help myself.

“If it helps at all, I hate me too. And I am sorry, for everything that went down, for everything I did.�� He spoke, gazing at me even as I looked away, eyes concentrated hard on the sky outside. “You deserved better. Always have.”

I swallowed back the bile that climbed its way up my throat. “What I deserved was answers.”

George nodded. Both knowing it was the truth.

“But I won’t get them, will I? Even now.”

He was quiet a long while before he spoke up. “I want to answer your questions.” He inhaled slowly, “I just- back then I wasn’t in the best state. Even now, I’m still a mess. But I’m… trying.”

I couldn’t lie and say that his words didn’t affect me, or make me curious.

“You went to Delia’s.”

I decided to start off easy, figuring that it wasn’t something that would set off any alarm bells, a subject that could be breached here and now without much emotional hassle.

That, and I’d been intrigued about it. Agonising over it really since I'd heard.

George didn’t appear very shocked when I said that. Like he’d already known that I knew. “I did.”

My eyes panned between his own. “Why?”

He turned his focus outside, giving me a glimpse of his strong nose and jaw.

“I wanted to feel useful. I wanted to help you in the only way I felt I could at the time. Delia, she’s nice. She recognised me and let me stay. Didn’t ask questions and only offered up conversation when she started a brew.” George divulged, fingers tapping against wood of the sill. “She spoke highly of you, it was like you were there, even when you weren’t.”

I ground my teeth and drew in a breath.

“But I wasn't there, I was in a hospital room waiting for you to show up instead.”

George’s chin dipped at my words, his eyes shut as though he was struggling with some sort of inner turmoil. “I know. I let you down. I know that.”

“You let me down long before that, George.”

“I know that too.” He agreed willingly and the sincerity he spoke with hurt my heart.

I had no reply for him, not one that would prove useful now, and so I was thankful when Matty and Alvaro trailed back in, the former practically buzzing with excitement whilst the doctor tried to withhold a grin.

“Ten more days, baby!” Matty hollered loudly, beaming as he scrambled his way over to me, missing the tension I wore like a cape. He kissed my forehead rather dramatically and grabbed hold of my shoulders, shaking them. “I know I had a go at you for fainting on me, but now I’m almost glad you did!”

“Matty.” Came George’s bewildered rebuke, and I had to chuckle, even as Matty shook me lightly.

“You’re okay with it then? Alvaro told you everything?” I questioned him, glancing over at the doctor briefly before Matty was nodding away aggressively in front of my face.

“‘Course I’m fucking okay with it! Ten more days where I don’t have to do fuck all? Sign me up!”

I giggled lightly at his excitement and the anxiety I’d been feeling loosened its restrictive hold around my chest. “Good.”

“Why, did you reckon I’d leave you here?” Matty joked, still grinning madly away.

My tight smile must’ve been a dead giveaway because Matty tutted and shoved my arm gently. “Don’t be a div. As if I would. Besides, already got a plan, haven’t I?”

I frowned back at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Figured the rest of the band could come join us.”

Part Twenty-two>

[sunny6677]

Elite Parents.

The Rewritten version of the Hatzgangs scene in Tender Treats for The Saturated AU. (2/2)

@mayisgoingnuts

————

As the three stand there on the road (not noticing Bob eagerly peeking out from behind them), Roy lifts up the candy. He asks out of curiosity, "Sooooo.. how much are we getting?"

Robert huffs. "Uh.. I dunno. Just.."

The three stop, hearing something behind them. They then softly yelp once they finally do notice something, and begin to seem visibly nervous upon seeing who it is. Or at least who they think it is anyway.

Bob grins. "Hello, kids—did ya see any kids in a skeleton and pumpkin costume come here by chance?"

"..uh.. yeah. Why?" Robert replies.

"Well, I was just wonderin' if—"

"Wait.. are you gonna follow them and hunt them down?"

"What? No! Why does—why does everyone think that tonight?"

"..what the hell do you mean? Everyone knows who you are, dude."

"Yeah.." Scoffs Ross. "Listen, those kids are kind of annoying, and I'm not sure if I mind the idea of them actually being gone.. but we're not telling you anything else. Come on.. lets go."

Bob's expression slowly grows more irritated, exhausted from being treated like this by everyone. He then forces a grin, pulling out a knife before they can completely turn around.

"Well.. why don't I just—"

It cuts suddenly. The bag of candy is spilt everywhere on the ground now as a furious Robert looks at it, and Bob walks off with a very irritated but satisfied look on his face. Roy looks on with a very surprised expression, while Ross just seems weirded out and annoyed by what just happened.

Robert growls. "Hey!"

Bob doesn't listen, and just keeps walking off.

It cuts to a very fucking pissed off Robert storming toward the sidewalk, balling up his fists and then stomping on the ground. "Fuck!"

Ross rolls his eyes, while Roy only looks on with worry.

"Ugh.. chill, Robert. She'll probably just forget. Your mom probably wont remember either.." Says Ross dismissively says.

"Easy for you to say!" Robert angrily says as a car begins to approach, "Your mom forgets about stuff all the time! My mom doesn't!"

They then stop, finally noticing the car. Roy's eyes appear to light up though.

The car window rolls down, revealing Richard. "Hello, Roy.."

Roy smiles from ear to ear. "Dad!"

Carmen then exits the car, looking around for a moment, before noticing Roy and exclaiming out in excitement. "Oh, son! Did you buy yourself a costume?"

Roy hesitates. "..uh.. yeah?" He fidgets with his hands. His friends don't say anything, but do glare at him a little.

"Well, it looks nice on you, son! Now, how about we get you home? We still have movie night, remember?"

"Huh..? Oh! Yeah! Hahah! Uh—sorry, guys! I'm gonna go watch Halloween stuff with my parents. You have fun though!"

Roy then begins to walk toward the back part of the car. Robert's glare becomes more apparent, but fades as he rolls his eyes. Ross's expression becomes somewhat bitter as he just scoffs.

She then sighs to herself at her sons endearing behavior, and waves to Ross and Robert. "See you two soon! Feel free to join us sometime else if you'd like!"

Ross grumbles to himself. "..psh.. whatever."

Robert doesn't say a word, furrowing his brows.

When Roy gets in the car, he seems to have a mild moment of surprise, and smiles.

"Oh—mom! Did you get the candy?"

"Mhm!" She nods.

It then cuts to the window opening, and from out the window comes a gigantic bag full of candy that lands on the ground. Robert stares in surprise, and as does Ross (though he seems a little more confused than anything).

"Here! I told my mom to get some incase tonight didn't go well. Uh—bye, guys!"

The car begins to drive off while Roy brightly smiles to himself. It ends on Robert's expression faltering from surprise to a mixture of emotions as he just looks down at the bag, and picks it up before waving reluctantly. Ross doesn't wave at all, just rolling his eyes.

[archivistofnerddom]

Looking forward to when Val (or anyone from the US who knows Ross) shows up in Wakanda to treat with them (or threaten them) — and have a *fun* welcome. Like, M’Baku, Okoye, and Shuri are just chilling there going, “Nah, we don’t respect colonizers and we don’t work with them,” while Ross is hanging out off to one side. When asked about why they’re giving Ross asylum in Wakanda, the general consensus is, “Him? No, that’s our friend “Bob” Ross. You should hear what he has to say about happy trees. It’s the funniest thing!”

Alternatively, the Wakandans pretend not to know who they’re referring to. (“Why are you pointing at the wall?”; “Are you feeling okay?”; “Do you need a combination of cheese, avocado, rosé, and every other stereotypical basic white person food?”)

And Ross pulls out a bowl of popcorn to enjoy the chaos and confusion.

[moon-thething]

heyo! wondering if u could do romantic hatzgang x reader but readers dad is bob velseb :) thx very much !

Okay, sure! Btw I'm doing these separately since in my rule book I said I wont be doing Polyamory

Romantic or platonic?: Romantic

Readers gender: gender neutral

Type: fluff, a little bit of angst

Hope you enjoy :)

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Roy

Roy would probably find out that Bob Velseb is your dad by watching the news

Like- you didn't tell him when you started dating. And he never actually watched the news so he didn't know

Although, now that he thinks of it, the strange and scared looks you two got while walking down the street hand in hand is now more explainable

When he turned to talk with Robert and Ross they only just looked at each other for a moment and said: "We thought you already knew."

My man's was shook. To the point he started yelling at the two for no reason

After that he would flinch every time you were around, that is until you two talked about it.. and you bringed it up

"Hey Roy?" You said. Roy jumped lightly as he turned to you with an awkward smile

"Yeah, what is it?" He asked, chuckling awkwardly as he half his hands together

"Why are you avoiding me?" You asked, now frowning as your shoulders dropped sligtly. Roy's smile also faded as he only looked down at the ground with a sad expression

"I... Why didn't you tell me." He said, you looked at him confused

"Tell you what?" You asked, Roy looked up from the ground and into your eyes, his eyes were glossy as he looked like he was about to cry

"That... That you are Bob Velseb's kid." He mumbled, his lip quivered as he bit the inside of his cheek. He knew you weren't violent... But how can he be sure when you've only dated for four months?

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him in anger, only making him tense up even more as he fiddled with one of the sleeves of his sweater

"Just because he's my dad that doesn't mean I'm the exact copy of him, Roy." You said, your face scrunched up as tears started to form

"I really thought you were different, Roy." You said, closing your eyes for a moment before walking away. Roy went to stop you but it was like he was glued to the floor, he couldn't move a muscle, he really did want to stop you, to apologize. But his body didn't let him

You didn't talk to him for over a week after that, he kept sending you text messages, saying he was sorry and that he doesn't think of you differently

He was so worried, he really thought he had lost you

But after weeks of messaging he finally saw you in public and talked to you

To say you were happy was sort of the truth. You were beyond happy, but also pissed that it took him that long to apologize... Yeah, you really didn't check your phone during that period

It took you two a while to get to the point in your relationship you were at before Roy found out, but you eventually got the hang of it and acted as if nothing was wrong

Robert

He would have found out when you told him

He doesn't watch the news, like- at all. He just has everything on his phone and thinks the news are boring

So he was kind of scared when you just pulled him by his sleeve and told him you two need to talk. He was scared you were going to dumb him or something

"Robert. I have to tell you something." You sighed, holding onto Robert's hands as you looked down at the ground. Robert looked at you with a worried expression as he stayed silent

"I know you don't watch the news... So I'm just going to say it now. I'm... I'm Bob Velseb's kid." You said, rubbing Robber's hands comfortingly

Robert looked at you with a confused expression, his brows furrowed before a smile grew on his face. He best out laughing as he let go of your hands

"Great joke Y/n." Robert laughed, whipijg away the fake tear in his eye, "you really got me good." He huffed out a few remaining laughs, finally looking up at you

His smile fell quickly when he saw the serious expression on your face. He streaghtened up and stared at you with a blank gaze

"You.. you're serious."

Took him a couple of minutes to process everything but after his little chrisis he hugged you

Telling you that he lives you either way. That Bob Velseb is just your father, not a personality and that he knows you're not like him

You tried a little ngl. Not full on sobbed but little sniffles and tears of relief and joy

Your relationship was okay tbh, he would refrain himself from making little jokes about your dad thought

Ross

Chilliest one of them all to be honest. He often watches the news with his mom so he knew about you before you started dating

Before you were dating he would be like everyone else, avoiding you. Thinking you were just like your father

But one day, he had the guts to walk towards you and make small talk. And he found out that you were actually pretty nice

After that you would talk more and more every day. Yes, people would stare at you like you're some freaks. But at least you had someone who wasn't afraid of you

When you started dating you would be a pretty chill couple, but he would ask more personal questions if you dare certain things with your dad

You and Ross laid on your bed, looking up at the ceiling while holding hands, just enjoying each other's company as birds sung

"So... Y/n." Ross started, "are you a canibal?" He turned to you. You turned to him and looked at him with a disgusted expression

"Fuck no!" You yelled, grinning as you both started to laugh

"But I won't mind eating you up- wait, no. That's not what I mean-" Ross just bursted out laughing as you tried to defend yourself, only making the situation worse as Ross's laughs continued untill he was out of breath, hitting the bed as no sound escaped him

Yeah, he would make a lot of jokes after that. But hey, you do joke about the nicknames his mom gives him from time to time

He would hold pinkies with you in public. Not because he is ashamed of you, but I don't really need him as a huge PDA type of guy

He does give you a kiss on the cheek when he sees people taking and looking at you with disgusted expressions

[bettertwin9000]

Trick or treat!

TREAT.

I STILL CANT FIND MY CANDY BOWL. WHERE DID IT GO? I SIGH AND GOVE YOU AN APOLOGETIC LOOK. SUDDENLY THERES A BOB ROSS DVD IN YOUR PALE... YOU LOOK AT ME IN CONFUSION AND ALL I CAN DO IS SHRUG.

[lizardkingeliot]

Unfortunately I’m feeling inspired to embrace hyping tf out of my own work by that last reblog so!!! Hi. I posted the final chapter of my latest Queliot fic last week and it would mean the world to me for more people to come check it out. This is the culmination of a series I’ve been working on for the past 3 years and it truly was the biggest labor of love. I think most people who follow me are aware of it already, but if you’re in the mood to read 3 entire Queliot novels you can find the series page here.

I’m gonna put the opening scene of the latest chapter below a cut because I think it’s cute lol. You can find said chapter here, or start from chapter one here. And I’d love to hear from you guys in the comments section after you finish reading! Our fandom is so teeny tiny now and people just do not comment the way they used to, but connecting with you all when I post is my most favorite part. 💖 

ANYWAY. Here’s the opening scene. Enjoy! 🥰

—

“That—” Quentin could hardly get the words to come he was laughing so much. Flat on his back gazing up at the ceiling, the color of it sea water blue. “That really tickles, um—”

“Wouldn’t tickle nearly as much if you’d stop squirming, honey love.”

“I’m not squirming,” Quentin said, absolutely squirming. Eliot’s paintbrush swooping over his ribcage like the tip of a finger. “Shut up.” The words were soft on his tongue, not a hint of heat behind them. Lifting one hand slowly, touching Eliot soft on the shoulder. “This can’t seriously be, like—the next level of. You know…”

Slowly, Eliot let his eyes drift up to Quentin’s face. “Confused about what tent we’re in already?” He grinned, lifting his brush for a moment, running the palm of his free hand over Quentin’s brow gently, gently. “This isn’t the next level of anything, baby. Daddy just loves to watch you squirm.”

“You’re an idiot,” Quentin slurred, drunk on love that melted on his tongue sweet as honey. “What are you even—” Sucking a breath when the tip of Eliot’s brush pressed to his skin again. “Are you turning me into a Bob Ross painting on purpose?”

Eliot laughed, the sound of it a dark little rumble. “Something something horny little trees,” he said, picking up a little paint from his palette. The tip of his brush marking Quentin’s skin with a shock of blue.

The tent they were in was dedicated mostly to nude life drawing classes, sculpting, and photography. With one little alcove tucked into the back big enough for three or four couples at a time to indulge in body painting. Quentin was lying on a table with his head propped up on a cushy pillow. Eliot hovering over him with a palette splashed with paint, looking so goddamn beautiful Quentin almost couldn’t stand it. With his hair all soft and his brows pinched together, deeply and entirely focused on his task.

“Where is that supposed to be?” Quentin gazed down at the upside down image of a landscape blooming to life on his torso. The dip of his belly a lake rimmed in trees, a cloud-dappled sky on his ribcage.

Eliot hummed, the tip of his brush swirled in orange flecked with yellow. “I don’t know,” he said, flashing a grin, mapping out a shape of a big burning sun just between Quentin’s nipples. “Maybe it’s… Fillory?”

Quentin laughed, reaching up and brushing a curl away from Eliot’s eye. “If it’s Fillory it, um—” He touched Eliot on the back of his neck, his shoulder. Struck through with such fondness he struggled to draw a single breath. “Needs more talking animals.”

Eliot flicked his gaze up at Quentin, pulling back, cleaning the paint from his brush with a burst of magic. “Are we talking a little Toucan Sam action here, or…” He grinned, pinching his bottom lip in his teeth. “More like Tony the Tiger?”

“Do you think—” Quentin snorted a laugh, let it ripple through him so hard it shook the table. “Do you think Fillory is just full of cereal mascots, El?”

Eliot gave an airy little sigh, gesturing with his brush as he said—“Guess you’ll just have to read me your little fanboy bibles one day so I can find out.”

“You want me—” Quentin nearly choked on the sound of his own words. Suddenly—subspace was hovering in the periphery of his vision. Soft gush in his head like he was sinking slowly underwater. “You want me to read the Fillory books to you?”

Eliot swirled his brush in cheerful green, shot Quentin a soft little smirk. “I’d listen to you read the phone book,” he said, and winked, and immediately turned his attention to his painting again. “Now, I think maybe we need a bit more—”

“Let’s, um—” Quentin gripped the bare curve of Eliot’s elbow. A living, breathing hunger rising up from the depths and seizing him like hooks in his belly. “Let’s go back to our room. I—”

“Someone’s itching for a spanking, I see.” Eliot met Quentin’s narrow-eyed gaze, the corners of his mouth curling up. “Shove your waistband down for me just a little, darling. Daddy needs more canvas.”

Quentin pushed the tiniest whine from his throat. Barefoot and shirtless, there was so little keeping his body from total abandon. He could have slipped out of his little shorts with such ease right then, presented himself bent and quivering over the edge of the table. He could have begged for Eliot to fuck him right there in front of the others. Create the most masterful of all masterpieces with nothing more than bare flesh. Instead—

Quentin relented at once. Shoving one side of his waistband down to expose the bony rise of his hip. Eyes on Eliot, watching him take in the sight of all that fresh bare skin. Tongue darting out to swipe along the swell of his bottom lip, his eyes all flushed with a dark and almost unbearable hunger. Like he was only just barely containing the wild beast snarling within.

“Good boy,” Eliot said, his voice a soft low rumble. Holding onto his brush with one hand, rubbing the bare flesh of Quentin’s thigh with the other. “Hold still now.” He winked again, and Quentin’s whole body felt like it was being plunged into bubbly warm water. “No squirming.”

[sharkchan12]

Sitcom au fanfic were Eyes, Moloch, Dexter, and Bob go do crazy stuff together

Fanfic Eyes, Moloch, Dexter, and Bob go to Walmart

Sitcom au

*intro plays with iconic music*

*it starts*

Eyes hasn't been fed yet so he's crying like a baby and it's starting to annoy everyone

Bob: We ran out of human sacrifices to feed

Dexter: "One isn't enough for him we need like at least 100 to keep him full"

Dexter said while covering his ears over the crying of Eyes

Moloch: "Well where the hell do we go to find that many people"

Bob: "I might know a place that has a lot of people in it"

Dexter and Moloch turn their heads towards Bob

Bob: "LETS GO TO WALMART, it has a lot of people, especially because it's a Sunday"

Moloch: "That's a stupid idea, everyone will run away from Eyes immediately after seeing him"

Bob: "Not if we give him a disguise"

Bob then proceeds to pull out baby clothes

Bob: "A cute baby will attract more people and therefore, more sacrifices"

Moloch: "I need a disguise too I can't just stay here all day"

Bob: "Don't worry I got you covered"

Bob then proceeds to pull out a pair of sunglasses and a Miley Cyrus T-shirt

Dexter: "Is that my shirt?"

*a laugh track plays*

Bob: "I'm not comfortable giving him my clothes so this is best I got"

Dexter: "Don't give that idiot my shirt, it wouldn't even fit him"

Moloch: "He does got a point though"

Bob: "Do you want to come with us or not?"

Moloch: "Fine fine"

Moloch puts on the Miley Cyrus T-shirt and sunglasses knowing it'll annoy Dexter for the rest of the day

Eyes starts to get excited over the thought of getting to eat more sacrifices

They all get in the car while Bob drives them to Walmart

Bob: "We're here!"

Dexter: "I'm not really comfortable doing the whole killing people thing so can I just stay in the car while you guys do your thing?"

Bob: "Well we're already here and we need more help with this so it's either that or we sacrifice you"

Dexter looked disappointed in that answer

*laugh track plays*

Dexter: "Sure, whatever"

The group gets into Walmart and Eyes is in a stroller. Once they get into the entrance they put Eyes in the cart

Bob: "I need to get some things, Dexter you take care of Eyes while I'm gone"

Dexter: "WHAT?! BUT YOU DIDN'T SAY-"

Before Dexter can complain as always Bob is gone and he is stuck with both Eyes and Moloch

Moloch isn't tall enough to be holding the cart :(

While they were walking three troubling kids noticed Moloch with his stupid ass Miley Cyrus T-shirt and decided to be little shits about it (well only one of them to be exact)

Roy: "OOOOOOOO LOOK WHAT WE HAVE HERE"

Ross: "Roy we're not doing this shit again"

Roy: "BUT LOOK WHAT HE'S WEARING"

Robert: "Come on man he looks old and he has no legs leave him alone"

Moloch started to take offense and tried to call for Eyes but Dexter left with Eyes already so boo hoo

Moloch thought "Fine I'll do this myself"

Before he can do anything he felt something behind him IT WAS ROY'S MOTHER

*crowd gasping sound effect plays*

Carmen: "REYNOLD WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO STRANGERS AGAIN"

Before anything serious happens we cut off to Dexter taking care of Eyes

Dexter was searching for random strangers until he heard

"I didn't know you had a kid" a familiar voice

It was Lila with her son Skid

Dexter: "OH UH HI MA'AM I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WOULD UH-"

Skid looks at Eyes and remembers the time he and Pump hung out with him

Skid- "I REMEMBER PLAYING WITH HIM HE'S MY FRIEND"

Lila: "Oh really, that's the kid you were talking about?"

Dexter was confused how this little boy can hang out with a creature like Eyes without being eaten

Eyes: "OH RIGHT I REMEMBER YOU, YOU'RE ONE OF THOSE LITTLE PILES OF FLESH"

Eyes said in his deep demonic voice

Lila was confused and concerned

Lila: "Oh wow…your son's voice is very… different…"

Lila said without trying to sound rude

Dexter: "OH HE'S NOT MINE IM JUST ummmm…BABYSITTING YEAH YEAH BABYSITTING"

*laugh track plays*

Dexter is very 50/50 if he should sacrifice Lila or not, he doesn't want to kill humans but he also needs to feed Eyes

So Dexter tries to make this conversation quick and just ends up looking like an awkward loser doing it

Lila: "Maybe you can try babysitting my son one day"

Dexter: "Well I am a very busy person so I don't think I can do that ma'am"

Lila: "Oh well it was nice talking to you Dexter"

Skid also said bye to his bestie as both Lila and Skid left. Dexter never felt more embarrassed until he heard crying from someone familiar…IS BOB CRYING?????

Bob is in front of the meat section, on his knees crying because of the animals that were killed for meat. There was also a bunch of candy wrappers all over the floor

Bob: "THESE POOR ANIMALS, THEY DON'T DESERVE THIS KIND OF TREATMENT"

Dexter: "YOU'RE NOT FUCKING SERIOUS"

Dexter said out loud in anger

Dexter: "YOU'VE BEEN SITTING HERE CRYING OVER MEAT INSTEAD OF HELPING"

Bob: "I would not stand for animal cruelty, you would never understand you Exterminator"

Dexter: "Animals don't have feelings unlike the humans you eat"

Bob: "HAVE YOU EVEN FED EYES YET"

Eyes started to get angry he hasn't been fed any sacrifices yet and started to also get mad at Dexter

Dexter: "FINE IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE IT, YOU TAKE HIM I COULDN'T HANDLE IT ANYWAY"

Before Dexter can leave there was a crowd of strangers around them hearing the argument he just had. Everyone started to judge Dexter while he walked away and went around Bob and his "child" to comfort them

Bob knew what to do and started to fake cry to in hopes maybe get more sympathy from more people

Bob: "That yellow suited son of a bitch was always so rude to me and our child, did you know that 37% of marriages end in divorce in the U.S"

Before things could get violent let's cut back to Moloch

Carmen was getting angry at Roy for wondering around again

Carmen: "Why are you even talking to this…thing anyway?"

Moloch now even more offended: "A THING?"

Carmen: "I mean you sure do look like one but I can't put my finger on it, but whatever"

Moloch then proceeds to smack her in the face with his big ass hands (he could've just killed her but whatever)

One of the hatzgang members then pulls out his phone to record this (to post this on vine or YouTube or whatever was popular in 2013)

Carmen didn't want to deal with this anymore

Carmen: "REYNOLD, WE'RE GOING HOME, AND I DON'T WANT YOU TALKING TO ANYMORE PEOPLE LIKE HIM AGAIN"

Before they walked away they heard a bunch of people screaming, Eyes finally got his meal

We then cut to the Walmart being destroyed and all non spooky month characters being killed

Eyes, Moloch, Dexter, and Bob are back in the car

Eyes: "Well that just happened"

*laugh track plays*

Bob: "How about we reward ourselves with some ice cream, EXCEPT DEXTER!"

Dexter: "I WAS GOING TO PAY FOR MY OWN ICE CREAM ANYWAY"

They drove to the ice cream store, got their Ice cream

They all sat down together laughing along (except Dexter) as the credits roll

*iconic outro music plays*

The End

[cronchyyysantiago]

Oh uh uh so the actor au for welcome home by @frillsand ... I really like it. I just think it’s neat. Then it made me wonder how Actor Wally and my wally ((I just call him petunia wally cuz that’s the flower he has on his cardigan-)) would kind of interact-. I honestly don’t know if Actor would think he’s some guy pretending to be him or what- confused either way.

Perunia would kinda just look at him and treat him like anyone else he runs into. Speaking of that, I’d imagine that Petunia is kinda like bob ross and can’t get mad at anyone really. Very monotone and very calm guy.

Also here are some drawings of petunia

[henrysglock]

At this point I wouldn't be surprised if they suddenly included a teenage Murray in the play despite him not even living in Hawkins. I get that they struggle with age accuracy of several characters but they change a bit too much in my opinion. Plus the character names. Like is Bob's father now a priester or principal??? And who is the priester then??? I'm so sad I won't be able to see the play so I really hope they'll put in on netflix in summer 2024 or something but it's already soo confusing

You see, Nonnie, I personally don't think they struggle with ages at all. I'm the type of person who's more inclined to consider that they're deliberately fucking with us.

To answer your question: I'm not sure who the priest is going to be, since priests aren't meant to have secular jobs (like being a principal)...but I won't lie and say I'm not tickled about how this contradicts the one (1) Collider article that drops even the slightest hint at a Patty/"George" one-sided romance. They list her as being the preacher's daughter:

and with that key bit of her character description thrown into question...well. Y'know. I don't think I need to point out how unreliable this makes everything else sound.

Anyway, I'm hoping you'll get to see it at some point, Nonnie!

And this is nothing against you, personally, but I struggle to understand how people don't see how reminiscent this all is of a NINA simulation.

Complaining and making my case below the cut.

Bob shouldn't be hanging around Jopper, they weren't friends in high school. They knew of each other, and Jim bullied Bob. Karen and Henry should be around the same age as Alice, which is to say: children. Alice is at least close to filmed canon, even if you think shes younger than Henry. They should at least have cast them similarly with actors, but they didn't. They do all this swapping: Priest to Principal, Allen to Alan, Henry (12) to Henry (14-15) while all the other actors are close enough to be passable if you don't look too hard.

This is all reminiscent of NINA and the constant swapping behavior. Like I'm just going to tap these few signs.

I mean honestly, this alone should be enough to put NINA on our radars:

Everyone but El is the right age, and she's aged up visibly.

They also swap on whether Henry's hair is a natural side part or not:

They swap on which way Brenner's tie is done:

They swap on prop orientation, corpse posing, or blood patterns:

All this changing around with an end result of no one (who cares enough to look) being able to say concretely which version is real.

I feel like this should ring warning bells:

Even if we want to discredit the papers and put Alice as Henry's younger sister, she's still cast as the right age in TFS. Visibly so. Henry is visibly aged up.

The only place we've ever seen this happen is in NINA, which is conveniently the time when El's memories are being altered as they're fed back to her.

So unless this is some secret third thing where Henry (12) went back in time to try and fix things but he continues to age normally/he's now 14-15 when he ought to be 12 (which isn't an option I'm against, I actually think it would be fun)...we're just not given another viable explanation in filmed canon.

So yeah, Nonnie...who's the priest and who's the principal? Is he Alan or Allen? Is it Henry or Vecna or One? Henry/Vecna/One? Allen/Alan/Al? What's the truth? What are we settling on?

But my main gripe is about the attitude, and again it's not about you personally, Nonnie, but:

Is it so hard for the fandom to go "Hey, maybe all these discrepancies in TFS are there for a reason, not just because the writers are dumbfucks who don't know their own story...despite having written it in tandem with ST4"?

Especially given that Kate Trefry wrote the NINA project? Not Matt, not Ross. Kate.

Why is everyone so against it being purposeful? Where's the fandom's sense of joy and whimsy? Is no one else willing to have fun and be creative about it? Must it always be a derisive little "uhuhu dumbfuck writers silly writers look how stupid and messy they are, retconning the canon THAT THEY WROTE SIMULTANEOUSLY" thing?

Idk. Just rubs me wrong. We'll see soon enough, though.

[zipper-neck]

Think I found an art anatomy teacher, Gottfried Bammes, who will be highly influential to my drawing: He's already tearing apart other anatomy teachers' books, notably Loomis' "Figure Drawing for All It's Worth." Like listen to what he wrote about it:

"Essentially -- and quite indefensibly, even from the point of view of providing usefully simplified teaching materials -- these are formulas for skeleton and musculature studies, intended to allow figures of all kinds to be drawn easily and quickly, for all occasions a quick glance at this 'cookbook' of formulas is all that is needed to find recipes for how the seams and folds of jackets and trousers arrange themselves, for how to deploy light and dark areas, how to use chalk and pen, and how to 'do' sitting, lying, standing and erotic images of undressed girls in high heels stretching, or sprawled out on, or sliding off, divans. The net gain? Facile execution, a slick routine -- and money!" [Bammes, Anatomy for Artists: Past and Present, pg. 37]

Loomis was SO influential to the way anatomy is taught that you don't realize until you study it a lot that Loomis was like the Bob Ross of life drawing: his methods taught simplifications that helped demystify the process of observation, but he left out a lot of detail which would cause confusion for students when their figures don't look quite alive. (And yes, I'm saying Bob Ross isn't really that good of a painter, fight me.)

Bammes does however speak highly of Burne Hogarth's "Dynamic Anatomy," which is the book my professors liked best too. Bammes says, "Hogarth has made the most momentous contribution of any author in the English-speaking world to constructive figurative drawing, including the arrangement of the body's masses. His efforts to find architectonic solutions deserve our full attention." [pg 38]

[heyidkyay]

I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name

Part Eight

A/n: Just that I honestly love these two a whole lot x

Also- a change of pov in this one, so just a forewarning!

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: Similar to the last chapter- mentions of trauma and some references to a serious but past event (not too much detail but still be mindful)

Masterlist

--

Ross’s face when I trailed into the pub just behind George was a right picture. Pint glass halfway to his lips as he stilled, shock freezing him in place. 

“Erm, alright Y/n?” He finally greeted me, flashing a look of apparent confusion over towards George who’d just headed straight on over to the bar without saying a word.

I grinned at the bearded weirdo, snatching up a seat and settling in. “Perfect, thanks! Everything is just perfect. We’ve worked it all out and at this rate, I figure G and I will be having a springtime wedding.”

Startlingly, Ross seemed rather chuffed by the idea. 

I stared back at him, gaping a tad. “I was being sarcastic, Ross.”

He pursed his lips at me, mumbling into the froth of his pint as he took a sip. “And you wonder why it all went to shit.”

In retort, I smacked him hard on the arm, catching him off guard which caused him to choke on the large swig he’d taken. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/n!”

I gave him a mocking grin in return, paired with a narrow eyed scowl. “And you wonder why people think you’re such a tit.” I snarked back, deepening my voice to imitate him.

Ross curled his lip up in retort, wiping down the front of his now beer soaked jumper just as George padded back on over. He frowned, taking in the scene as he handed me a rum and coke. I flashed him an appreciative smile and gave my thanks.

George simply waved me off though as he took the seat beside me, raising an eyebrow over at Ross. “What happened to you?”

“Ask your missus.” Was what Ross decided on, shooting me a half glare before he shucked off the jumper completely. 

I rolled my eyes at him, pleasantly sipping my drink and not paying any mind to the colour that now tinted George’s cheeks as he mumbled a quiet correction. 

Ross mimicked my first action, huffing out a put upon sigh, uncaring. “Whatever. You two gonna let me in on what happened then, or am I gonna have to work it out through a round of charades? I’m guessing that it must’ve went alright though if she ended up back here with you.”

“Lovely to see you too, Ross.” I dragged out, but he merely swatted away my sarky comment, his focus on George.

“You saw me last night and- oh, did you like your present by the way?”

Frowning, I tried to recall him or any of the others gifting me anything yesterday. I’d been quite adamant about the fact that I hadn’t wanted a thing. “What present?”

His forehead wrinkled and so he moved forward to pick up his pint again, sipping at it before a look of realisation dawned on his face. He was bobbing his head as it all flooded back to him. “Oh yeah, left it in the car. I remember now. Was meant to grab it before I left for Matty’s, but G was rushing me out the door.”

I blinked slowly, glancing between the two men. George was giving Ross a vengeful stare down, whilst the latter merely grinned over at me.

“You’ll have to come by and grab it soon.” He mentioned.

I shrugged, “Yeah, alright. We can watch a couple films, order something in. Make a proper day of it.”

Ross nodded his agreement and just like that I’d invited myself over to his and our previous spat was long forgotten.

The two of us had always been like that though. Out of all of the guys, Ross and I had always shared more of a sibling dynamic. He’d been the big brother I’d never asked for in a way. Looked out for me on nights out and made sure that no one messed with me when he was about, but we also bickered and fought like no one else I knew. We’d tussle and come to actual blows sometimes, then forget about it completely at the mention of food or after all the lingering anger had worn off. No apologies, no love lost. Just snap right back to normal again.

Because really, when push came to shove, Ross was someone I could always depend on. I’d call and he’d come running. And me, I’d do just about anything for him in return.

“Um.” George started then decidedly shook his head, not wanting to waste his time questioning us further. He should’ve been used to it by now though, so it was his own fault, really.

“Okay, so come on.” Ross prompted with a jerk of his chin, “Out with it. I want to know all the ins and outs. All the gory details. Did G cry like a baby? Did you kiss and make up? Was there any slapping of any sorts?”

“Why would there’ve been any slapping?” George asked him with a bewildered look, then proceeded to regret it. 

Ross cocked his head towards George, looking at him as though he thought he was stupid, then glanced back towards me from over the rim of his glass. “He says something daft. She slaps you. Pretty simple deduction, mate.”

“Why-”

But I cut the beginnings of George’s rambling questions short, unfazed by Ross on a whole.

“There was no slapping of any kind.” I informed the idiot, “There wasn’t much actual talking, in truth.”

Ross’s mouth pulled into a sly smirk, getting the complete wrong end of the stick there, before he proceeded to wag his eyebrows between the pair of us. I grimaced faintly, tilting my head in a way that said ‘really?’. He just opted for a grin.

“Not what I meant, you twat.”

The bearded giant actually looked a bit disheartened upon hearing that, but it was wiped hastily away when George cleared things up. “Actually, mate, we sort of ended up spotting Birdie’s mum.”

I peered down into the dark swirling liquid in my glass, suddenly finding it far more intriguing than the current topic at hand. But my interest was piqued not too soon after when I noted that Ross still had yet to utter a word, staying eerily silent.

When I chanced a glance back up, I found him looking more serious than I’d seen him in a very long time.

“What happened?” Was what he asked in the end, casting a long, hard glance over at George, who he knew would give him the God’s honest truth.

“Nothing.” I attempted to intervene with a scoff, “I didn’t even get the chance to speak to her.”

But it was a futile effort on my part and I should've known it. 

Growing up around a bunch of clingy lads often meant that you got tuned out whenever it came to any upset which involved you. They were fairly over-protective. Over-protective being the kindest way to put it. And whilst I typically loved the fact that they cared so much, it was tiring at the best of times. Take this as an example.

“George.” Ross then prompted with a no-nonsense air, and the man in question shot me an apologetic look before he turned to tell Ross exactly what had gone down. I huffed, realising it was a battle lost and slumped in my seat, forced to trump through it all over again. 

It was almost harder going through it the second time around, especially hearing it from George’s point of view. He made it seem so much bigger than it had been. When in reality, I’d just been severely caught off guard by seeing her. Which I granted to be a rather fair reaction in any case.

“So yeah, she ended up slipping out before we could really internalise the fact that she was there too.” George wrapped up and during the course of his long story, Ross’ face had only hardened. Any further and I figured he’d be made of stone.

“Good riddance, I reckon. Don’t know why you’d even want nowt to do with her after all the shit she put you through.” Ross scoffed unhappily, shaking his head as he lounged back further in his seat. But his words really rubbed me the wrong way.

“Well, that’s all good for you. Ain’t it? But you’re not the one who lived through it, so I think I’ll decide what’s best for me.” 

I necked the rest of my drink then, ignoring the blunt burning sensation that stung the back of my throat as I scrapped my chair across the floor and stood from my seat. 

“Headed to the loo." I mumbled, "Unless you want to dictate that too.”

—GEORGE’S POV—

George watched as she strode away, chewing harshly on the inside of his cheek. He should’ve just left it. Let Ross think that they’d talked somewhat and were on the mend. But he couldn’t. He was worried, and he supposed he had a right to be after that reaction. Still, his next breath was tinged with a smidge of regret. 

Ross’s voice is what drew him back to their table, his words still fuelled by his apparent irritation. 

In truth, George could understand his frustration, he really could, they’d all seen what it had done to her, they’d all had to watch on from the sidelines and allow it to play its course. Too young to do anything worthwhile, or to be heard by anyone who should’ve listened. And even now, after all these years, it was still so fucking hard having to watch her crumble at the very mention of it. To see the way she hardened so quickly in an attempt to not feel anymore hurt. But they couldn't be the jury here, they couldn't dictate her life for her. Because then they'd be just as bad as the rest of them.

“I’m right though.” Ross determined, scratching thoughtlessly at a fraying thread in his jeans. “She knows it deep down too, otherwise she wouldn’t be this pissy.”

George’s brow pinched as he tried to sympathise somewhat. “Yeah, but it must kill her, mate. I know it does me. You should’ve just seen her today. Never looked so small. Almost as bad as-”

“Don’t.” Ross cut him off before he could dredge up any old memories. One’s they all surely wished they could just burn and forget. “I know exactly what you’re about to say and I don’t want to hear it.”

“But that’s exactly why I’m saying it!" George implored, keeping his tone hushed even as he leant in a little closer, subconsciously fiddling with one of the table’s beermats. "We saw it, Ross. We were there, sure. But she fucking lived through it, mate. All of it.

“We don’t have a leg to stand on telling her how to feel about seeing her mum, or a right as to how she goes about handling it. That’s down to her. If she wants to ignore it, we’ll ignore it. If she wants to get stoned out of her mind and forget, then I’ll light the joint. But until she decides, we just have to wait.”

“But,” Ross hissed through clenched teeth, dragging an agitated hand across his face. “I just want to take it all away, you know? She’s… she doesn’t fucking deserve this crap! Never did.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” George retorted far too quickly, venom evident in his heated whisper, “I was there, man. I was the one she called! The one who held her, just the two of us alone, sat on that curb outside her house listening to the sirens as they grew louder and nearer.”

George stopped himself short, words now clogging up his throat. He sucked in a sharp breath, allowing his eyes to meet Ross’s for a moment. 

“She wouldn’t stop crying.” George choked out, saliva only thickening as a wave of nausea rolled through him at the sudden reminder. He'd blinked and it was almost like he was back there. “And me? I couldn’t do anything- say anything to make it better. I just had to be there. Me. I was the one who had to hold her hand, to whisper gently and calm her enough so that she’d let the paramedics near enough to get a good look at her, let alone touch. Me, Ross. She fell asleep in that hospital bed all those hours later, still tossing and turning, and I just remember walking silently into the bathroom and throwing up everything my stomach had to offer. Don't think I ate properly for days after that. And her? I couldn’t even imagine how she must’ve felt. Even now.”

The pub noise had since dimmed, it’d just become a frequent buzz in the background, like a fly trapped indoors. You just learned to tune it out until it was hardly there at all. 

George had to work on calming his breaths. Blinking back the wetness that had welled in his eyes and turning away slightly so that Ross could no longer see. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose before picking up his pint and taking a hefty gulp. Downing what little had remained.

It seemed like so much time passed before Ross finally spoke again.

“I’ve no right to put my two cents in. But I am sorry, mate. I didn’t realise just how much more of it you’d seen.” He inhaled quietly then, and George watched as he worked his jaw, gaze flitting over the other patrons briefly. “Listen, if you ever need to talk about it, or you know-”

With a hard glower, George cut him off, having just spotted Y/n making her way back over. Her hair tied up now, eyes red and glassy once again. He felt his heart break a little more each time he looked at her, but today, she was really going for the kill.

—

The wind outside the pub had just begun to pick up as we trudged our way outside. We’d stayed for another round, tried to talk about work and other things that were going on in our lives, but after the mention of my mum and my abrupt departure it had been a difficult task.

I rubbed at the back my arm as a chill danced past us, coming to a slow halt on the other side of the pub’s garden gate.

My mouth pulled up into a soft smile when Ross dragged me in for a long hug, me on my tiptoes whilst he crouched down so that I could comfortably rest my chin on his shoulder. He squeezed me tight, acting on the words he wouldn’t say. But I understood him all the same, and doubled my hold in turn, allowing my eyes to fall shut as I stole some of his heat.

“God, you’re like a furnace!” I giggled, and Ross chuckled into my ear as he moved to press a kiss to my cheek. It wasn’t typical Ross behaviour, not with me at least, but it wasn’t unusual. It’d occurred a couple of times over the years, but only whenever the situation had called for it. Still, I found myself smiling at the faint peck.

“Here if you need anything, remember that.” Ross murmured to me softly before he pulled away and casted me one of his cheeky grins. “And make sure you keep me in the loop too, alright? I want updates on this big makeup of yours.”

I raised a brow at him, having since parted, and glanced over towards George who was just shaking his head at the bassist in turn. “Why’re you so invested, MacDonald? Been betting on the pair of us?” I queried, sharing a knowing smile with George. 

“Only with Hann- he figures G will fuck up again. But I’m routing for you.”

I gave him a dirty look, wrinkling my nose and curling my lip on impulse. “That I’ll be the one to fuck it up?”

He snorted, amused. “That you’ll both stop being such dickheads and just get your shit together.”

Ross pivoted to embrace George then, clapping him heartily on the back, and the drummer shot a loaded look at me from over his shoulder that told me he was just as exhausted as I was. In the moment, we both deemed ourselves better off just letting it go and let Ross be, well Ross.

The two bandmates parted ways and Ross gave us another quick goodbye paired a flippant gesture in jest as he trailed backwards onto the street, starting his trek home. I waved and watched on as he drifted around a corner and disappeared from view, leaving George and I alone once more.

I figured it was probably about early evening now, round about the time the sun began to set, and was only proven correct when I glanced up at the sky to find a hazy whirl of colour pooling overhead. I found myself smiling at it, basking in the reminder that the day would soon end and a new would take its place. That no matter how bad things got, there was always a beginning and an end.

When I tore my eyes away, I found George just watching me- waiting, I supposed.

I stowed my hands away in the lining of my jacket to shield them from the nippy air and tilted my head up at him. “You headed home then?”

He stared back and gifted me a small smile, kicking off from the wall he’d propped himself against. “Not yet. Why, you got somewhere better to be?”

I chuckled, turning away from him for a split second when a wave of wind swarmed us, blowing some of the hair I’d thrown up in a bun earlier into my face. A hand reached out to tuck it behind my ear and out of my eyes before I could think to do it myself, and I swallowed thickly when the tips of George’s fingers gently caressed my cheek, trailing down to knock against the underneath of my chin. He was smirking down at me when I met his gaze again.

“So, have you?”

My mouth opened ajar as I blinked up at him, a little thrown. “Have I, what?”

That smirk of his only grew and he leant in closer. “Got somewhere better to be.”

I released the breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding onto and minutely shook my head. “Nowhere as of yet.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m starving.” George grinned, then rocked back to make his way down the cobbled path, leaving me to gaze after him. He pivoted on his heel to glance back at me and jerked his head, “You coming or what?”

I had to fight the bright smile which threatened to make itself known, dipping my head slightly to hide my face from view. Then promptly fell into a small jog so that I could catch up with his much longer legs.

Because when had I ever been able to turn George Daniel down?

Part nine>