#FOB is less surprising

[voxiiferous]

9 and 45 @shadowofthehost (The fact this is a blind choice makes me incredibly curious lol)

@shadowofthehost | spotify wrapped is here! send me a number from 1-100 for a headcanon for our muses based on that song. send 🌀 for me to randomize a number.

9. Heartbreak Feels So Good - Fall Out Boy

No matter what they tell you The future's up for grabs and no No matter what they sell you Is there a word for bad miracle? Nobody said the road was endless Nobody said the climb was friendless But could we please pretend this won't end?

There are moments when the differences between Vox and Vincent must become apparent. Vox sets rules for himself that Vincent pays no mind to, he discard parts of himself and the past in the name of progress. Here he is, making the future, determining everything that will happen from atop a neon tower.

No one ever sees beyond the veneer he creates... and then Astor comes along, and it it all becomes much harder to pretend that everything is perfectly fine. Astor feels like something new and interesting, a breath of fresh air compared to Valentino, who had, at one point, seemed saint and saviour; something new, something fascinating, someone he could love. Astor reaches out and gets shocked, and seems excited about it.

It is this turning point that creates so many problems, because Vox has protected himself through these walls, adjusted himself to the heartbreak and the repetitive notions of a lover he fools himself into thinking are acceptable. How long can he pretend that this state of affairs can last?

Heartbreak feels good, until it doesn't. Until he's looking at a living shadow who's somehow the brightest thing in his life.

-

45. La Seine - A Monster In Paris (Okay technically the one on my playlist is the original French version but shhhh, it's easier to use the English here. It's pretty much an identical song).

I don't know, don't know, so don't ask me why That's how we are, La Seine and I I don't know, don't know, so don't ask me why That's how we are, La Seine and I I feel alive when I'm beside La Seine, La Seine, La Seine From this angle like an angel La Seine, La Seine, La Seine

There is a lot that attracts Vincent to Astor initially and simultaneously, a lot that terrifies him. He's in Hell, he's looking at a him with a TV for a head, and a man who sweeps in and charms him with all the power of Times Square. But it is, fear aside, exhilarating. If you were to ask him before, he would have said he was not a man that falls in love easily, but here he is.

Staying with Astor doesn't mean dying, but it does mean Hell, and yet... he makes it worth it. He chooses to stay with him, because he feels more alive in Pentagram City than in the endless drudgery of a rat-race. There is a sense of Paradise in that.

He doesn't think that the fortune teller knew what she was doing when she sent him here, and in fairness, if it hadn't been for Astor being very unexpected, he would not have stayed. He would have fallen to a future wherein he was miserable but successful, and done nothing that did not lead him to the exact same fate. So perhaps it was coincidence, perhaps some destiny. He doesn't know, and probably never will, but he knows that he's gone on Astor in the same way that New York settled into place like a second skin.

[shadowkat2000]

Fall out boy’s modern “We didn’t start the fire” is the best thing I’ve heard all month. So many people have tried to update the song and they did perfectly, hitting all the high notes of 1989-2023. Perfect remake no notes

[pw-ps]

it is literally going to be ten years since they last came to latinoamerica though like. they should do it. but also i dont think my wallet would be able to take it. or my mental health for that matter

[dashiellqvverty]

thinking about it they literally played my favorite song off almost every album... crazy shit

[zentrodada]

one half of my dash is loving the new fall out boy album and the other half is on various levels of vagueposting about disliking the new fall out boy album while trying not to alienate their fob fan mutuals lol

[spamgyu]

PRETTY BOY // College!Mingyu AU – small purses and labels

"Even if the sky's on fire. Got you here, it's alright, with me ..."

Started off as this prompt: no bc college!mingyu as someone who lives down the hall from your dorm and you always run into him doing something questionable genre: tooth-aching fluff

this is based on these two requests - one of them i cant find bc i am a disorganized mess but it's from 🎀 and the other is from this anon

"Can you put my keys in your purse?" Mingyu batted his lashes at her, holding his car keys out.

Y/n glanced at his hand and then at the tiny shoulder bag in her hand – raising a brow at him. "I hope you know this literally only fits a lipgloss and my will to live."

Curse the current trend of tiny baguette bags – why must they be so cute yet so small, only able to hold far less than what she could probably stuff into her pockets.

It wasn't that her outfit needed a purse. They were simply getting bagels.

But it did make complete her look, and that was more than enough of an excuse to use it.

"Pleaseeee." He dragged his word.

It wasn't like his keys would take up much space anyways – it wasn't like hers that had multiple unneccesary key chains hanging off of it.

It was literally just his key fob, house keys, and dorm keys. It would take up 4 inches at most.

Taking the set with sigh, Y/n threw it in her purse before holding it out for him.

"What do you want me to do with that?" Mingyu blinked.

"It's heavy now and I don't want to carry it."

"Y/n," Mingyu let out a chuckle. "You can't possibly be ser— yeah okay."

Taking the black bag from her hand, Mingyu slipped the strap awkwardly up his arm – the tiny loop stopping mid-bicep.

"Am I serving?"

The girl let out a laugh, pulling out her phone to snap a picture at how ridiculous her boyf– her friend, looked. "You could have just held it."

"But am I serving?" He repeated, this time placing a hand on his jutted out hip.

"Yes. You served and ate." Y/n rolled her eyes at his antics – he never did stop with his foolishness since they began .... talking.

If anything, it persisted much more – Mingyu revealing more and more of his true self and y/n doing the same.

There wasn't a single day they were together that wasn't filled with laughter – laughs that left tears in their eyes.

"Mingyu?"

A grown woman's voice caught the two's attention – Mingyu mostly, whipping his head at the source of the familiar voice.

"Mom!" His eyes wide.

It wasn't that he was afraid, as if he was caught doing something wrong. No, never that. He was simply surprised – especially considering he lived two cities away and there was no reason for his parents to be in their college town.

"Wha- what are you guys doing here?" He leaned in to place a kiss on each of his parent's cheeks before stepping back to stand next to y/n, who was awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to another.

If he had been any one of her friends, she would have happily stuck her hand out and introduced herself to Mingyu's parents.

But their situation was different.

They were in a grey area. For now, at least.

They were much more than friends; sharing sweet hushed words in the midst of a crowd, their hands naturally gravitating to one another when they walked side by side, his lips finding a home on her forehead whenever he greeted or bid her a goodbye.

But they weren't official either. There was no label.

"This is– um–"

"You must be Mingyu's girlfriend." The older woman cut her son off with a smile. "All we've heard during calls is your name and how wonderful you are."

"Mom." Mingyu warned through his teeth, eyes just as wide as when he first heard her call out for him earlier.

Y/n bit back the smile that threatened to form on her lips.

He talked about her.

Constantly.

More importantly, he addressed her as his girlfriend.

Y/n has always been confident in herself, and she thought she would be the same when it came to dating; but to say she didn't have some doubts in her and Mingyu would be a lie. She knew she wasn't the only one with her eyes set on the six-foot charismatic basketball player; y/n was well aware there are girls dying to be at her spot.

And sure, she may have spent some nights lying awake, thinking of the worst – the blissful past few weeks possibly coming down crashing on her. She was a realist, after all.

Mingyu could have anyone, he could be with that girl in 302 – the smart dark haired girl who seemed to know more about sports than y/n did. The one girl she could have sworn Mingyu had his eyes on before they even established a friendship.

Y/n was just like any other girl. She had her insecurities; one of them including Mingyu's true feelings for her.

Despite the fact that he was very transparent with her.

"Oh, don't act all embarrassed now." His mother waved him off. "You even have her purse up your arm. Young love–"

"Alright, we're going." Mingyu spoke quickly, tugging on y/n's arm – who was now giggling.

"It was wonderful meeting you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim." Y/n stood her ground, despite the boy who was practically begging for the ground to swallow him whole.

"Likewise." His father nodded. "We usually have Sunday dinners, you should come along."

Y/n glanced at Mingyu. "I mean it's only fair, considering how much of my family dinners you've crashed."

"Mingyu!" Mrs. Kim gasped.

"Hey! I was invited by coach!" He cried. "I– I'll bring her along, can we please just be excused? I feel like I'm dying here."

The three of them laughed at the poor boy who cowered behind the girl that was practically half his height – dreading the conversation they were about to have the second they stepped away from his parents.

"Have a great rest of your day, kids." Mr. Kim chuckled.

"Thanks." Mingyu mumbled with a sigh, practically dragging y/n away from his parents.

"Girlfriend, huh?" She laughed as the finally reached the store front.

A suppressed groan was heard from Mingyu, using his hands to cover the redness that began to form on his face.

Y/n wasn't upset, not like what Mingyu thought in his head. In fact, she found the whole interaction, and revelation, to be cute – even more now that he was clearly quite embarrassed.

"Do you refer to me as your girlfriend to anyone else?" She brought her hands up to pull his away from his face – their fingers interlocking once they were at his side.

"Um– everyone?" Mingyu kept his eyes trained on his shoes.

"Sorry– what?" Y/n coughed.

"Well– I, we're heading there anyways and– I promise I do plan on asking you to be my girlfriend. I have it all planned it's romant–"

He was speaking fast.

It was a habit of his when he was either excited or nervous; either way, she found it absolutely adorable. Y/n didn't care to listen to the rest of his rambling, leaning up to place a quick kiss on his lips.

"This was romantic." She smiled up at him.

"Wha–"

"I'm your girlfriend."

Mingyu stood frozen, his brain still attempting to process the soft pillows that made contact with his lips – his fingers reaching up to touch the sticky gloss she had left behind.

Peach vanilla.

"I'm your boyfriend." His voice was small, almost as if he was saying it to reaffirm himself.

"Yes."

"I'm your boyfriend!" Mingyu repeated much louder this time, his lips stretched from ear to ear. "Oh, prepared to be so sick of me."

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@thegirlwhoimagined @forcheol @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @niktwazny303 @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo @jaebammie @livelikejinki @watercolureyes @whoa-jo @primoisellerose @wonwoobestboyy @rakshithanotrao @mingcouper

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 4/?

Read on AO3

Pairing: Buck/Tommy, Vampire/Witch!AU

I was not expecting to have to delve this much into political structures, but I can't lie--it's kind of fun.

“Do we get to know why we’re kidnapping one of Gerrard’s party favors, or is this another situation where I sleep better if I don’t know?” Sal asked conversationally as they made their way to the big SUV Lucy preferred to drive.

“You don’t sleep,” Tommy retorted testily.

Sal sighed, and Tommy didn’t have to look to know he was pinching the bridge of his nose. “He got car keys? Gerrard’s got a few on his cleanup crew that’ll notice if there’s more cars than bodies.”

Damn it. That was a good point. “Fuck, I don’t know. He was talking to a friend or a roommate earlier; they might have come together, but I don’t know. Lucy, can you…?” He shifted Evan in his arms, holding him so that Lucy could rifle through his pockets. After a moment, she came up with a peeling leather keychain, on which dangled a couple of keys, one with the Jeep logo emblazoned on it. Sal snatched the keys and shot Tommy a look.

“I’ll go check where the staff was parking. If I don’t find anything, I’ll make my own way home. We are talking about this later, Tommy boy.”

“Expected nothing less,” Tommy sighed, and then frowned. “I’m taking him to the apartments, though, not the main house.” Sal looked surprised, but just nodded and loped off towards the end of the estate opposite the gardens, where presumably all of Gerrard’s victims had been told to park for the night. “You drive, Luce. I’m gonna have to handle him if he wakes up before we get home.”

Lucy’s eyebrows climbed towards her hairline, but she didn’t question him further, just hurrying along to the SUV and unlocking it with a quick chirp from the key fob. He clambered into the backseat with Evan and spent an awkward few moments trying to sort of lean him comfortably against the window in the seat before giving up with a groan and just pulling the kid back against his chest.

“I’m biting my tongue so hard I’m tasting blood, Kinard. I just want you to know that,” Lucy said from the driver’s seat, staring at him in the rearview mirror. “Also, just how much handling does one half-drained frat boy need? Not that I’m judging you. Much.”

Tommy glared at her half-heartedly, before turning his attention out the window, restlessly scanning their surroundings for any of Gerrard’s people. The SUV’s tinted windows—darkest UV blocking glass they were legally allowed to have in California, of course—should keep them safe from any prying eyes, but he didn’t fully relax until Lucy had pulled them out of Gerrard’s compound and they were out on the highway.

Evan showed no signs of waking, and Tommy took the opportunity to finally take a (metaphorical) breath and really consider just what the fuck he had done. He’d gotten the witch out of Gerrard’s territory…but now what? The kid had already proven he was dangerous. If it had been anyone else in that parlor apart from Tommy or Gerrard himself, he had no doubt Evan would have been able to escape.

He also had no doubt that Evan would not have been able to get off the estate. Against maybe a handful of younger vampires? Probably he’d have been fine. Against dozens and dozens of representatives of every coven in the greater Los Angeles metropolitan area? He might have taken a lot of them out with him, but eventually he would have been overwhelmed by sheer numbers. But the fact remained that bringing him home was dangerous. It was stupid. He'd accomplished what he’d set out to do—which was get the witch away from Gerrard. The smart thing to do would be to have Lucy drive to the nearest hospital, use the thrall to blur Evan’s memories enough that he wouldn’t be able to identify Tommy, and leave him on a bench near the ER doors.

What was he thinking?

He wasn’t, that was the problem. He’d been riding on instinct from the moment he’d watched Evan burn Gerrard’s turn to ash…and his instincts were insisting he not let the witch out of his sight.

Tommy had not survived for eight hundred fucking years by ignoring his instincts.

A faint tremor ran through Evan’s body, a small grimace twisting his face. The delicate skin of his eyelids twitched and trembled, his eyes moving restlessly back and forth as though he was dreaming. With a soft sigh, he turned further into Tommy’s chest, his forehead brushing the skin of Tommy’s neck. The kid was ice cold—especially compared to the warmth that had been radiating off him before. Well shit, of course he was. He was a few pints of blood lighter and he’d been fighting for his life with his magic. He was probably going into shock. Fuck…he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had to worry about a human’s welfare. The only one he spent any real amount of time with was Lucy’s girlfriend—and not only did Lena decidedly not need Tommy fussing over her, she would be one of them soon enough (Lucy had already asked, and Alonzo had consented…but Lena’s mother was in the final stages of a long battle with cancer and she didn’t want to abandon her human life before her mother passed).

He twisted in his seat, searching through the multitude of things that had been tossed into the third row until he found a jacket he vaguely remembered seeing Ravi wear a few times crumpled up under some random books and an umbrella. He snatched it up and turned back to drape it over Evan, drawing another long look from Lucy in the rearview mirror. He sighed heavily.

“He’s a witch, Lucy,” he said without preamble.

Lucy did not slam on the brakes in shock. But the SUV did swerve a little. An angry horn blared behind them, and Lucy rolled her window down to stick her hand out and flip them the bird.

“Tommy, what the fuck? Are you sure?”

“He burned one of Gerrard’s turns to ash with a spell. Tried to flatten me like a pancake. And I could barely hold him in the thrall. So yeah, pretty sure.”

“What the hell is a witch doing at a vampire coven gathering?”

Tommy shrugged one shoulder, massaging his temple lightly. Sal insisted that they couldn’t get headaches anymore, but Tommy called bullshit. “Tending bar,” he said. “I don’t think he realized what kind of party he was working until it was too late.”

“His familiar let him walk into a den of vampires?” Lucy asked in disbelief. “Wait…where is the familiar?”

Another shrug. “I don’t think he has one. Like you said, no way it would have let him walk into Gerrard’s place. And there was nothing helping him when he was attacked. Even if his familiar was a damn fly, it would have tried to do something.”

“Is that—I mean, the only witch I know is Chimney, but—isn’t that…kind of weird for a witch his age?”

It was fucking bizarre is what it was. A bond with a familiar was considered part of becoming an adult among witches. Most were bonded with a familiar by fifteen or sixteen, sometimes earlier. But hardly ever later. Familiars helped witches regulate and control their power as they became fully functioning members of their covens. Granted, Tommy wasn’t exactly sure how a familiar was chosen for a witch. He would cautiously say that he and Howie were friends, but it wasn’t like they regularly traded coven secrets, and Howie had never offered up the story of how he’d come to be bonded with the wrinkly-faced bat that clung to his clothes and fluttered around his head constantly.

“It’s not normal, no,” he allowed eventually.

“Okay…okay, so I see why you took him out of Gerrard’s. No way in hell you could leave him there. But what are you planning to do with him?” she asked carefully. Too carefully.

“Lucy,” he said warningly.

“Kinard,” she replied in exactly the same tone. Then she sighed heavily. “You know we have to consider how much of an advantage this could be. You already drank from him!”

He shifted, unconsciously tightening the arm he had around Evan’s shoulders. To keep him from tipping all over the place, of course. The power of the witch’s blood still coursed through him, and would for several days…maybe even a few weeks. Tommy was already stronger and faster than anyone else in the coven, was stronger and faster than almost any other vampire in this part of California, but right now? He was fucking untouchable. Lucy was right…having access to Evan’s blood regularly would be an incredible advantage for the coven. Even if they limited who drank from him and let the younger members of the coven drink from those people regularly, the strength of the coven would increase tenfold. He knew why Lucy had to put the thought out there.

Alonzo’s coven was well-respected and well-liked. But they did not have the sheer power that was required to be politically important in their world. Tommy’s presence in the coven was the source of a lot of what political clout they did have. Even with their relatively small numbers, there weren’t many covens who were willing to anger a vampire who was close to measuring his age in millennia rather than centuries. Alonzo and Sal were decently powerful in their own right—both of them having been turned sometime during the early Renaissance—but apart from them the rest of the coven were all under two hundred years old. Most of them had been turned in the last century.

But no witch would willingly let themselves be used like that by a vampire coven.

Witch and vampire covens had an uneasy truce. In places like LA, with large populations of both, interaction was necessary to preserve the secret of their existence from the even larger human populations. That was how he’d come to know Howard Han. He and Howie had known each other for going on ten years, had spoken often in both official and unofficial capacities. He considered Howie a friend, and knew Howie felt the same. But they had never been to each other’s territory. Never been alone together. Every meeting he’d ever had with Howie had been conducted in a public place, or on carefully agreed upon and regulated neutral territory.

If the coven were to utilize Evan’s blood, they would have to force him.

Keep him locked up somewhere. Neutralize his ability to cast spells. Keep him a secret from every other witch and vampire in the city. And the worst part was, he knew Alonzo would consider it. Gerrard had been expanding his powerbase in LA for decades, and the very real possibility he would enter into a formal alliance with Ortiz had every coven not formally aligned with him on edge. The situation was becoming precarious enough that he knew Alonzo was considering if it was even worth it to stay in California anymore.

He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told Evan what Gerrard would do to him back at the mansion. Gerrard’s solution would be to slice out Evan’s tongue and keep him chained in the basement of his most heavily fortified property and he would do it in a heartbeat.

Tommy had done unsavory things in the name of survival before. He no longer had to kill when he hunted, but there were hundreds, if not thousands of deaths under his belt in that pursuit. And that was just the hunting. Tommy had done many cruel, vicious things—in the name of survival or revenge or protecting something he valued or just because. The idea that he could be as old as he was with clean hands and a clean conscience was laughable. He certainly didn’t care that the other members of his coven still killed when they hunted, and far more frequently than he needed to. Tommy was no stranger to cruelty. It was true, though, that in general, Alonzo’s coven refrained from the worst excesses of their kind. That was what he liked about them, what had spurred him to join, and why he stayed.

The thought of doing anything the way Gerrard would turned Tommy’s stomach.

But it was one person—one stranger—held up against safety and protection for his entire coven.

“Tommy?” Lucy said again, and he shook his head.

“I don’t have a plan, Luce,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking beyond making sure Gerrard didn’t get ahold of him.”

“Well, you need to figure that the fuck out!”

“I know! Okay? I know. Look, just…just get us to the apartments. I’ll call Alonzo as soon as you’re gone and, I dunno, I’ll just see what he has to say.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…who said I was leaving?” She turned fully in her seat to glare at him, and he smacked the back of her headrest.

“Eyes on the road!” he snapped. “Fuck. And I said you’re leaving. Did you miss the part where I said this kid burned one of Gerrard’s turns to ash? Why do you think we’re not going back to the compound?”

“He’s thralled, it’s fine!”

“Lucy,” he said firmly. “No. I’ve never actually had someone fight me like that, I don’t know how long I can hold him.”

“So gag him,” she shrugged.

“Right, because waking up like that’s gonna inspire him to listen to me calmly and objectively.”

Another glare in the rearview mirror, this one suspicious. “Why do you need him to listen to you calmly and objectively?” she asked warily. “Tommy—we can’t let him go, you understand that right? Doesn’t matter what reason you had…and let me guess, someone caught you trying to sneak him out? It still doesn’t matter. You drank from a witch, completely unsanctioned. His coven could demand your fucking head. Even if by some miracle they accepted that you were trying to save him, the SoCal high coven has been trying to find a way to drive you and Gerrard out of LA for years. They hate having vampires as powerful as you in their territory.”

“I. Know,” he gritted out, although in truth he hadn’t been thinking anywhere near that far ahead. He’d just known he had to get Evan out of that mansion. Besides…if what he’d seen when he drank from Evan was accurate (and he still wasn’t sure it was…experiencing flashes and fragments of memories and emotions wasn’t unusual when drinking from a thralled victim, but he’d never seen anything that complete, that solid), the witch covens in the area might not respond for Evan the way Lucy thought they would.

“Okay, well, then what the fuck is the plan? Cause if you can’t answer that, we’re going to have to kill him. Tonight. Fuck, right now!”

“We’re not killing him.” The words were out of his mouth before he even realized he was going to say them. Lucy turned to look at him again, shock plain on her face. The SUV drifted in its lane and another horn blared at them. Tommy rubbed a hand down his face, taking a deep, unneeded breath. “I am very aware of just how precarious the situation is, okay? But I don’t want to kill him unless we have to.”

It was strange, actually, how very much he didn’t want to kill the witch. If his position was reversed with Lucy or Sal, he’d be questioning if Evan had somehow cast a spell on them. But his instincts were screaming at him. Screaming. He had to listen.

“Tommy,” Lucy said softly, and when he looked at her face in the mirror, she was biting her lip, a worried frown wrinkling her forehead.

Without a word, he reached forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. Blindly, she grabbed it, rubbing her cheek against his knuckles. Lucy was not his turn. He hadn’t made her. But the one who had had completely abandoned her to her new life, cutting her loose only days after she’d risen. Tommy had been the one who found her, half-feral and on the verge of being declared for extermination by the local covens. He’d been the one who helped her regain her control, herself. He hadn’t made her, but neither of them really made that distinction anymore.

“Luce, do you trust me?” he asked softly.

“You know I do. More than anyone.”

“Then trust me. I’ll figure this out.”

Lucy swallowed convulsively but gave a sharp nod. She squeezed his hand one more time, and then let it go to concentrate on driving. They spent the rest of the drive in silence, until Lucy eventually guided the SUV into the underground parking garage of the apartment building Alonzo had acquired as a coven safehouse a few years ago. They’d gone to great pains to bury its ownership under multiple shell companies and shadow investors, and even occasionally rented out units in it to preserve the fiction. At the moment, it was completely empty.

The perfect place to bring what was essentially a ticking timebomb. It wasn’t like Tommy didn’t have the funds to buy the coven a hundred more apartment buildings if this went badly and Evan ended up burning the place to the ground. The witch was still deeply unconscious, but a little bit of color had come back to his face as Tommy gathered him up again and slid out of the backseat. His breathing and heartbeat were steady enough that Tommy wasn’t worried.

Lucy insisted on following him up to one of the loft apartments they kept furnished with the basics, dithering by the door while Tommy carried Evan up to the second floor and laid him down on the bed far more gently than was strictly necessary. He hesitated briefly, then mentally threw up his hands and made quick work of removing the witch’s shoes and belt. He searched briefly through his pockets, just to remove anything that might be uncomfortable to lie on, and came up with only his wallet and a pack of gum. He debated only a few seconds before flipping the wallet open, his eyebrow climbing when the driver’s license in the first plastic sleeve read EVAN DANIELS. That was weird…the kid had said his last name was Buckley when Tommy questioned him back at the mansion.

“Hey, Sal just texted! The keys matched an old Jeep in the staff parking area…what do you want him to do with it?” Lucy called up the stairs, breaking him out of his thoughts. He looked down at Evan again and closed the wallet, setting it down on the nightstand in easy reach.

“Have him bring it here,” he called back.

“Oh, so Sal gets to stay?” Lucy grumbled but didn’t try to argue further. Tommy rested his hands on his hips, drumming his fingers on his belt as he tried to think ahead for perhaps the first time tonight.

“Hey, Josh still does a lot of hacking doesn’t he?” he asked, going to the top of the stairs and looking down at Lucy. She looked up from her phone, a distinctly unimpressed look on her face.

“His literal job for Alonzo is erasing the coven’s digital footprint and keeping our finances straight, so, uh, yeah.”

“Think he could find out some coven information discreetly?”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed. “I’m guessing we’re talking witch covens, not vampire. Ugh. I can ask…but if he thinks we’d trigger something, he’s not doing it.”

“No, yeah, no, that’s fair. Just…see if he can find out anything about an Evan Buckley.”

“That’s not a very unique name—do you have any other details, or are we just looking for what we can dig up in LA?”

Tommy thought back to the strange…vision or dream or whatever. “No, no he can’t be from California.”

Lucy’s glare turned disbelieving. “You want Josh to go fishing through coven records for a name like Buckley and the only geographical distinction is ‘not California’?”

Okay, when she said it like that…

“I think…I think he was banished,” Tommy admitted after a moment. “Probably a few years ago.”

“Banished,” Lucy repeated slowly. “A few years ago? But you said he was casting spells?”

“I know. I—I might be wrong. But there’s something weird going on here.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Lucy muttered darkly. “Fine. Evan Buckley, banished from anywhere in the United States except California…you do think he’s American, right?”

“I mean, if he’s not he does a really decent accent,” Tommy said with a shrug.

“You’re giving me ulcers, Kinard!”

He smirked at her, spreading his hands in a placating gesture. “They’ll heal. Now get out of here. See what Josh can find, if anything, and text me later.”

At that, the irritation melted off Lucy’s face, and she stabbed a finger towards him, her expression deadly serious. “Stay safe, okay?”

“You know me Luce. I’m hard to kill.”

She didn’t look entirely convinced, but she nodded, and turned to leave. Tommy watched the door close and the deadbolt engage with a solid thunk, and then he was alone. With a witch. Who he had bitten without permission and kidnapped, and who had already demonstrated a complete willingness to try and kill him. And who he absolutely was not going to be able to let go when he woke up, regardless of whether or not he particularly wanted to.

Right. What could possibly go wrong?

[music-orthemisery]

Saw this photo floating around and it is…SENDING ME. In multiple ways. So I’m going to ramble.

Ok first off - this is like, quintessential mid-00s teen heart throb photo shoot. Literally erase Pete’s tattoos and photoshop on a head of any popular male celebrity at the time and it would honestly work. This was The Template.

I think it’s easy to either forget (or just not realize) how TRULY big the FOB/“emo” hype train was back then. Cosmo Girl, Tiger Beat, and countless other magazines that solely focused on HUGE celebrities like Beyonce and Justin Timberlake and Lindsay Lohan were suddenly putting FOB, MCR, and Panic on their covers (although, let’s be real, usually just one or two members - i.e. Pete, Gerard, Brendon, Ryan).

There are…slightly less boundaries now with stuff like this because of the saturation of social media making “normal people” famous, but, back then, that was almost unheard of. You’d only see pictures of these bands in like, ALT Press or Kerrang. For them to get lumped into the same category as these A listers was absolutely bonkers.

So to see this picture of Pete…it kinda makes me laugh tbh, but it also makes me sad. Because that didn’t…FIT him. It looks ridiculous. It’s not an authentic picture of him- it’s him being placed into a mold. Him accepting “The Template” because that’s where he was expected to go. Which makes it…not at all surprising that he was only able to keep that up for so long before it fell apart.

It reminds me of that part in the Zane Lowe interview where they’re talking about this time of their career. Like, just go watch from min 35-42 because it’s fantastic but some highlights:

Zane acknowledging how easy it is to fall down the rabbit hole, especially when you’re thrust into it so quickly - it’s not really a choice. Patrick seconds this later by saying that once that fame light is on, it’s on, and you don’t really have a way to turn it off

Pete acknowledging how it kept him from being a “real person,” how little he liked it, and how much he had to grow during the hiatus to get away from that

Patrick saying how you really can’t win - you either accept the attention and you’re hated for it or you reject the attention and you’re hated for it. And this was ESPECIALLY true then. The media is still brutal but it was absolutely HORRENDOUS at that time. You really had to be “on” 24/7 and that’s…impossible.

Talking about how that level of fame creates a wall around you that is not only difficult for others to penetrate, but also yourself. And if Pete can’t access himself, he can’t access what he can give Patrick to create around, which then makes everything crumble like a house of cards.

I give FOB so much credit for realizing that, if they didn’t take a break, they would’ve ended VERY poorly and likely forever. Look how a lot of careers ended from that time. Either not well or a fade into irrelevance because of just trying to “keep up” and failing. Because, at that point, you’ve lost a lot of your “real person-ness” and, if you’ve lost that, what authenticity can you bring to your work? And if you’re BUILT on authenticity (which FOB is), then what is there to put out that is meaningful and relevant to your art?

Part of FOB’s magic has always been their authenticity and that they really are just “some guys.” That is what has allowed them to be so innovative and grow as artists and as people because there is a constant striving to push themselves and still remain grounded in who they are at their core. Pre-h, they didn’t know how to do that yet, and it was hell.

Pictures like this honestly just remind me of how deep in the hole the pressures of fame at that time did to not only them as a band, but Pete himself. Like, look at this picture. Does he look…genuine? Happy? Does this look like the Pete Wentz you know and love? Of course it may on the surface, but if you really look at it…to me it looks more like a caricature. The clothes, the pose, the styled hair and eyeliner…it just looks off. It’s Pete Wentz through a lens meant to appeal to the masses.

These lyrics from So Good Right Now feel extremely relevant to this time:

I am endlessly grateful that…regardless of the other reasons and intense drama around it…they recognized that need to step back from…all of this. That they didn’t let themselves just get covered by the weeds. Chewed up and spit back out like so many others. And so many years later we are still getting incredible, meaningful music from them. Like, it truly just keeps getting better. You can’t say that about…A LOT of people/bands who have been making music for this long.

I think I’ll end this here for now. LOL at a thirst pic of Pete Wentz making me wax poetic….

[heartidylla]

the bitterness behind goodbyes

father figure!din djarin x p!teen!reader

summary : you and your little brother, grogu, come into contact with a mandalorian. after he earned your trust, you allow yourself to let him into your heart. as you continue on your path you eventually find what you’ve been looking for, a jedi.

warnings : angst

| a/n | : my daddy issues are spiking and i’m in desperate need of a good father figure like din is to grogu.

speaking color coding

“” — din

“” — you

“” — other

ducking your head while you held your little brother closer to you within your arms since overhearing a massive explosion coming from the near distance. you shielded him from any possibility of his little figure receiving damage.

sparks of bright yellow and shots of crimson red flooded into your eyesight as the massive weighted metal door was withstanding an assault against it. the moment the open fire stopped, you could make out the faint outline of a pathway.

the moment someone kicked down the door, you began to hold your breath in due to the amount of fear you held within you.

since you and your brother had been forced away from home, you were held captive. it was extremely traumatic for you, since you held the elder sister role and needed to protect the mindless youth with everything you had. you did, up until now. you were honestly deprived of sleep, and was in an urgent need for some nutrients.

all you wanted to do was flutter your eyes closed and hibernate for all the hours that were stolen from you due to your floppy eared green brother. you two looked completely different, and weren't related by blood; however, you two were connected on an emotional spectrum.

two figures began to make their way towards you. "the tracking fob is still active. my sensors indicate that there is two life forms present." the robotic voice vibrates against your eardrums, making more terror pulse into your veins as your heartbeat rose.

there was a pause as a beeping found started to rapidly increase its pace as the figure with entire metal armor turned into your direction.

he looked up, and made his way over to you. you're gaze followed from his boots all the way up to his glowing metal mask. you could almost make out your reflection within them.

you're bags were increasingly horrifying as dark circles were never appealing to anyone. "wait." the mandalorian called out to his robotic counterpart. "they said they were fifty years old." he stated, looking back and forth between you and your brother. it was obvious that neither of you looked to be over the age of fifty, or anywhere close to it.

you shifted underneath his confused gaze, and started to backtrack until your actual back hit the freezing wall. you shivered underneath the contact. your brother cooed in an unknowingly way. he didn't understand what was going on, and you didn't expect or want any less than that.

"species age differently." the robot reminded him, "though, she is quite small to be considered fifty as her species is. perhaps they both could live many centuries." he pointed out gesturing his gun over to you, causing you to flinch as your face hardened and looked away. you hid your bother more than before, not wanting any pain to be dealt to him. "sadly, we'll never know."

that's the exact moment you decided to use what you had been taught before. your eyes shot at the robot, glaring an obvious warning to him.

you both started to raise your arms at the same time, but to your surprise the mandalorian stopped him. "no." he says, which causes the robot to slowly look over towards him. something in the way you both were looking at him, those innocent eyes that held more emotion that you'd personally let off.

he knew that you didn't ask for any of this to happen, and suddenly he was teleported back to his home planet on that one fateful day that would reconstruct his entire life. "we'll bring them in alive." something new began to emerge within his faded heart. he wouldn't realize it then, but it was a sense of urgency to protect. whenever he looked at you, he saw a youthful version of himself.

you and your brother looked back and forth between the two of them in sync, unable to fully comprehend what was occurring in front of you. "the commission was quite specific. the assets were to be terminated." the robot informs the mandalorian, raising his gunned arm once more.

you, too, raised your hand. you were prepared to pass out due to the amount of agony you were going to inflict upon this robot as you were annoyed that he even began to bother you two.

suddenly a shot went off, and you watched closely as the robot's now steaming head collapse into the ground.

even so, you weren't about to let your guard down. you put your hand slightly back, before pushing it forward and sending the mandalorian flying backward into the wall.

he grunted at the impact of the force you were inflicting onto him.  "who are you?!" you shouted at him while hastily standing up and putting your brother within the crib you had crafted yourself.

"— a friend." the masked mandalorian's modulated voice came out as he held onto the neck of his armor tightly, trying to hid himself of the invisible hold you had onto him.

the word 'friend' was not one you were used to hearing. you were accustomed to the painful reality of being without a guardian and as a prisoner.

you let the force you had go as you started to feel dizzy. his body met the harsh ground, and yet another groan come from his mouth underneath his mask.

you began to stumble within your spot next to the crib, holding your head as your vision started to slightly blur. "are you okay, kid?" the mandalorian asked worriedly from beside you. when did he get there?

you succumbed to the intoxicating feeling of slumber, and as you started to fall he was just as quick to catch you as if it was some sort of instinct of his.

he looked anxiously between your passed out figure and your little brother within the homemade crib who was looking at you with unease. he prayed to the maker that you were just exhausted and nothing fatal was bubbling due to your immediate slumber.

that was the first time you ever came into contact with mando, your, now, guardian. you and your brother have become quite fond of him since he has saved you from multiple dangerous encounters with other bounty hunters as well as put in the time and effort to support you through all this time.

he's the brightest star that you looked for every night to appreciate, as whenever it's dark he's always there to slip next to you and make you feel a sense of security you felt with nobody else. you're so incredibly lucky to have him around you — to have him stumble upon you and become such an impactful person in your life.

you knew how heartbroken he felt when you and grogu were taken away by the horrible people who were after knowledge on the background or range of your talents.

you held grogu within your arms as you tried to calm his fussy state down. he didn't understand what was happening and why he wasn't with mando, but sadly you did.

they wanted to use you both for their own sickening purposes, and as footsteps began to inch closer to you. you were prepared to give everything you had into protecting what was rightfully yours: your brother and your life. when the door opened you reacted quick and shoved both stormtroopers against the wall, knocking them out cold.

a darkened look appeared on your face as you realized your worst enemy coming into your caged room. you started to choke the two stormtroopers beside him, as your little brother joined in on the chaos you two were causing and threw around your past enemies.

you both could feel the energy draining out of you at a rapid rate, and at a very last attempt you both hit them with your final push. the choking men you had been focusing on, you threw them backwards and they crashed into the wall outside your enclosed space.

your brother, on the other hand, threw his opponents into one another, making them bash their heads.

"you have gotten very good at that." gideon's horrid voice flooded into your ears as you were breathing heavily. "but it makes you both oh-so sleepy." he stated, bending down to you and your brothers eye level. you weakly glared at him before looking at your brother to was tilting to the side.

you were so proud of him, and knew how exhausting it was to use such power. it caused you to frown at the sight as your brother's chest was rising and falling just as regularly as your own.

"have you ever seen one of these?" gideon questioned you two as a flash of black and white appeared on the side of your face. slowly, your gaze shifted towards it. you squinted your eyes at the level of brightness emitting off of it.

your eyes widened at the sight, as a sickness began to flood into your throat. memories came swarming back into your mind which fogged your vision completely.

you couldn't help but look away from it almost instantly; however, your brother's weakened state tried to use his powers to force it into his hand. "you're not ready to play with such things." gideon stated, standing up. "though, your sister might be." he commented, smirking down at both of your trembling figures. "looks like you both could use a nice, long nap."

you took a deep breath in as a last attempt to fight off the urge to fade into the peaceful darkness, and as you let it go so does your conscious. your body landed next to your brothers, subconsciously wrapping your arm around his own passed out form.

when you woke up from your seemingly endless sleep, you were greeted with the horrifying sight of the black and white sword hovering in front of you. your brother cooed at you, and your eyes darted to analyze his state. he was fine, besides the handcuffs that were restraining both your hands.

the door opened, and mando, your savior, walked in. your eyes brightened at the sight of him, thanking the maker that he came after you and your little brother, grogu. "mando!" you smiled widened as you instinctively sit up to rush towards him, but the weapon inched closer to your neck.

the glare gideon sent you and intense heat that soaked into your neck made you gulp down harshly, slowly laying your back against the wall once more.

mando, without saying a word, continued to close the distance between you all. his blaster in his grasp, pointed at gideon alone. "drop the blaster." gideon demanded. mando paused in his tracks, digesting his situation carefully.

he knew that he had to get you two out without any casualties on your end, but he wasn't sure as to how just yet. "slowly." mando did as he was ushered. "now, kick it over to me." the sound of the blaster sliding against the floor made you cringe. "very nice."

"give me the kids." mando orders him while gesturing over to the both of you. you already felt a sense of safety within his presence.

you trusted mando more than enough to know that he wouldn't ever let anything bad be brought upon you now that you're within his care, and because of that you were finally able to breathe normally again.

"they are just fine where they're at." gideon rejected mando's suggestion. gideon went on about the history of the sword which you tuned out due to the fact that your sight was held tightly on mando.

you're eyes began to water, all you wanted more than anything was to be back in the razor crest and drinking soup with your two other halves in sync. "you keep it. i just want the kids." mando told him simply, all he truly wanted — and needed, was you two.

you're chest lightened at those words, surely gideon wouldn't be so foolish to refuse such an offer.

"very well." gideon's sword slowly retracting itself from existence. you let the air that had been building up within your chest out, as huge relief came pouring out of you. "i already for what i wanted from them." he told him, "their blood. all i wanted was to study their blood." he clarified, even though it wasn't really necessary. "these children are extremely gifted... and have been blessed with rare properties that have the potential to bring order back to the galaxy."

mando's eyes were glued onto you and grogu, not giving a single thought to whatever gideon was telling him. your safety still wasn't guaranteed, so he wasn't letting his guard down. "i see your bond with them." gideon commented, that was the sentence that made him look over to gideon. "take them," mando, without a second thought, began to take a step closer to you two, "—but you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways."

"they mean more to me than you will ever know." mando replied to him; however, all he was truly focused on was the two of you.

your heart swelled up with thankfulness, and admiration for the mandalorian who had taken you under his wing.

it seemed to shock gideon as he walked past him, you jumped up from your seat and rushed into his arms. "mando!" you cried out, pressing your cheek against his cold metal gear.

"hi —" you could almost hear the soft smile underneath his mask due to his gentle tone he used with you; however, he suddenly grunted as gideon had began to rapidly hit him with the sword.

mando blocked you from any chance of impact against you with his hardened armor until he was able to push you away from him in order to protect you against the enemy's attack.

your cries of horror only continued as mando and gideon continued to fight their way out of the room. you knew you needed to help mando, after everything he's ever done you owed him more than you could ever imagine.

you're heart raced as sounds of bashing weapons, and clashing of metals filled the entirety of your senses. mumbles of curses which you heard mando use flowed out of your mouth naturally.

you began to bash your handcuffs against the wall, each strike getting stronger as adrenaline pumped through you until they fell off of your wrists. "i'll be back grogu!" you promised him, before rushing your way out into the hallway. your eyes were as wide as coins as you saw mando losing in his battle with gideon. "get away from him!" you yelled at gideon before lifting both your hands towards him.

"no!" mando shouted, but that was before you had begun to choke out gideon all yourself. the intense fury that flowed through your veins into the pressure you were using against the well-being of gideon.

you're face hardened as the sounds of gideon losing air began to resonate like beautiful symphonies to you. "hey, kid, that's enough — let go of him!" mando's scared voice was the only one that would bring you out of this kind of repulsive state.

you finally took in gideon's paled face, and succumbed to mando's wishes. you released him, and his body crashed against the ground.

mando looked between you and gideon, confused as to what he had just witnessed. he's never seen you so worked up before, nor with such a murderous intent. you hadn't ever killed a person before — at least, not to his knowledge. here you were, all of a sudden, certainly trying your best to make gideon suffer immensely.

the pause was deathly, and it gave you some time to recollect your thoughts on as to the severity you had gone in order to protect mando from harm, that alone caused your eyes to be consumed with horror.

"go get your brother." mando's voice sounded shockingly normal with a tint of initial shock, as he bent down to gideon. you bobbed your head up and down, and immediately did as told.

the both of you were silent as the mission continued on. you didn't have anything to say to him besides an apology and that you didn't know where your head went within that moment. he reassured you that it was okay, and he understood how you were feeling but to not tread cross those lines again.

you sat in a chair with your brother on your lap, looking off into the distance as you repeated that moment with gideon in your head at least a thousand times. you analyzed everything down to the tiniest detail: how you felt, how IT felt, how it started, how it ended.

though, all of that faded as you sense a familiar aura behind you. you turned the chair slightly around to allow you and your brother to peak over to the figure from it, and your eyes widened as you noticed who it was. "are you a jedi?" mando questioned, his body hovering in front of the chair in which you both sat at. he was subconsciously protecting you as if it had become an immediate instinct.

"i am." he answers, before his gaze fell onto you both. he gestures his hand out to you, "come, little ones." your body teases, unsure as to what he was asking from you. mando's mask quickly turned towards you two, and you and your brother shot him your attention as well. your eyes spoke volumes within mando's mind.

his masked face turned back towards the supposed jedi standing before him, trying to take his entire purpose that was bestowed upon him away. "they don't want to go with you." mando informed him.

"they want your permission." the jedi stated, and that alone hit mando's inner thoughts hard. he didn't want to say goodbye — he wasn't prepared to.

he spent this entire time working to get to this point, and now that he's finally here it has easily became his worst fear. you, his funny little girl who'd light up a room with a simple smile, was now slipping through his fingers and there was nothing he could do to prevent it from happening. "they are strong with the force, but talent without training is nothing."

you and your bothers eyes punctuate from both men. how could you possibly cope with leaving someone who has become your entire home? "i will give my life to protect these children... but they will not be safe until they master their abilities."

mando seemed to be conflicted as he turned to you both. you stood up teary-eyed and not ready to ever say goodbye to someone who had been the first to give you the moon and more as you handed him grogu.

he wrapped his hand around your shoulder, the kind of gesture that always made you feel as if he was more than just a simple guardian to you. he nudged you both closer to the jedi. "hey, go on." he softly spoke as if he was unsure himself. you shot him a panicked glance, you didn't want this to be the end of your travels with the mandalorian. "that's who you belong with. he's one of your kind."

you looked up at his metal helmet with the most fear in your eyes. you couldn't swallow this lost down — you'd never want to leave his side, but your future depended on it. "i'll see you again." he promised you, placing his hand which was on your shoulder on top of your head and ruffling your hair quite a bit to cause a ragged look.

grogu reached his hand out to mando's mask, and for the first time he slowly revealed his face to the both of you.

his eyes were just as tearful as yours, which made you feel some comfort that you weren't the only one who hated the idea of being separated from the other.

you and grogu took in his features, most likely because it would be one of the last times you'll see it. grogu carressed mando's slightly breaded face, causing mando's lips to track upward a tad.

you held wrapped your hand tightly around mando's waist. goodbye is something you should've ever have to say to him, and your heart couldn't handle it to say the very least. "all right, pals." his voice — his true voice soaked into your mind. "it's time to go." he mentally reminds himself to not get too carried away by his increasing melancholy.

grogu whines at the sense that fell from his mouth, and you flinch due to the uncertainty of ever seeing him again. yes, he promised; but, what if something happens and he's not there?

your bottom lip begins to tremble as the impact of the realness of the moment changes everything for you. "don't be afraid." he tells you both, stroking your back with the hand that wasn't carrying grogu.

all three of you pause as you all try to take in this moment as if it was the last. after, he puts grogu down on the ground and unlatched you from his figure, and an instant after that you both were connecting yourself against him. grogu was at his foot, looking up at him with his eyes almost as if he was asking to be picked up once more. you were at his side, holding onto his arm for dear life.

it gave mando the smallest bit of hope back that you two weren't going to allow for such a separation between you two to happen.

suddenly, a robot which you knew pretty well rolled into the room. it caught both you, and your brothers attention. you both walked over to it and allowed yourself to childishly be engulfed within the excitement.

your laughter, which the mandalorian hadn't heard in quite some time, filled his heart with an abundance amount of warmth and unknowingly to the both of you, the jedi and mando both gave one another a nod.

the jedi picked up grogu, which caused you to quickly turn towards him and then mando. the reality of the situation settling in your chest once again, causing all of a sudden an intense battle between your future and what your heart is telling you.

you stood up, twisting your glance from the jedi and mando. the jedi looked down to you, and placed his hand onto your shoulder in order to offer you some support.

you tried to speak, to voice what your heart was screaming at you to say... but nothing ended up coming out. you looked down to the floor as your face fell into a deep blue. "may the force be with you." the jedi bid mando goodbye, before his hand slid from your shoulder to your back.

he herded you back through the door, and you couldn't help yourself but to glance back at mando's distraught expression once more.

you tried to turn your body towards him once more, but the jedi's grasp on you unable you for such movement. you lifted your hand out to him slightly, wanting to return to his side more than anything.

the attachment between all three of you could be seen, even with the amount of distance you had taken.

there was a single moment where you were finally confident enough to voice your protest and reject training in order to return to mando's side.

you set your sight onto the jedi once more and opened your mouth to speak, but the door enclosed you from mando. you closed your mouth and looked back to the ground, feeling as if a part of you was missing.

next part to ‘bitterness behind goodbyes’ short series.

[haunted-headset]

one shot idea

wilbur x depressed reader go to the beach and sit down in the water together and feel really happy and calm and wilbur comforts reader, and reader feels calm and happy

ily lots if you write it thank you so so much

Anything to Make Me Feel Less Numb

summary: Wilbur x depressed reader go to the beach & sit down in the water together :)

a/n: hello! sorry it took so long to finish! tags: @vibestillaxxx@joviepog@ax-y10@themonsterunderurmom @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@justalittlebitofchaos@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@taylors-version-from-the-vault@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@universe-friday@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza (let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged!!)

word count: 534

It was another one of those days. Those days that made you feel like you wanted to die.

It was 9:30 pm. Wilbur was busy editing. You were lying on your bed, limbs in a starfish shape, staring up at the ceiling, as if that was going to help your mental state. You didn't really care. You just needed a distraction from the screams & yelling & sobbing that went on in your head. You needed something empty, something thoughtless, something blank. The ceiling provided that.

"Love?" Wilbur's soft voice brought you back to earth. "Are you alright? You've been staring at the ceiling for the past five minutes & I don't think I've seen you blink or breathe once during those minutes."

You sat up & looked at him. He always seemed so happy, so content, so peaceful. You had no idea how he did it.

"I'm fine," you said, forcing a smile.

Wilbur looked you up & down before a soft smile appeared on his lips. "Get your shoes on & get dressed. We're going somewhere."

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"Not telling!" he said as he left the bedroom. You chuckled & slowly got out of bed. You put on a decent outfit & some shoes before walking into the living room, where Wilbur was standing with his guitar slung across his back & a blanket tucked under his arm. He took your hand & walked you to the car, making sure to open the car door for you.

"Now can you please tell me where we're going?" you asked.

"Nope," Wilbur grinned as he began to drive. "Just close your eyes & I'll tell you when we get there."

You closed your eyes, & you weren't surprised when there wasn't silence in your mind. There hardly ever was.

After about 15 minutes, Wilbur told you to open your eyes. When you did, you saw the jet-black night sky that was only illuminated by the thousands of stars sprinkled throughout the sky & the blinding yet beautiful full moon. You saw the waves, which were usually blue but were seemingly drained of their color because of the night, crashing against the sand. You were at the beach.

When you & Wilbur got to the sand, Wilbur laid the blanket down & kicked off his shoes, & sat down. He then looked up at you & smiled.

"I didn't want you to be sad anymore, & I know you like the beach during the nighttime, so I thought I'd take you here."

& for the rest of the night, the screaming & chaos that filled your mind dissolved into nothingness for the first time in a very long time, & instead was replaced with the soft sound of Wilbur's fingers plucking the guitar strings & his heavenly voice that could make you smile no matter what day it was. It was remarkable, really, how Wilbur could take everything that you thought was wrong with you & get rid of it with just a smile or a laugh. Nobody else could do that for you.

"How're you feeling?" Wilbur asked after about 30 minutes of song-playing.

"Better than ever," you smiled.

[bitchin-and-bustin]

"What, like partners?"

din djarin x male!bounty hunter!reader

Genre; yeah

Summary; Y/n L/n is a skilled bounty hunter desperate for work, which brings him to Nevarro looking for a job. He's met with a surprise when Greef Karga has him working with a man in shiny armor and fast reflexes.

Warnings; violence, implied PTSD, enemies to friends (sort of), implied mutual attraction

Author's Note; I tried writing this in 3rd person, I don't know how I feel about it, but if you guys like it this way let me know and I'll try writing like this more!

When Y/n L/n was truly desperate for work, he would turn to Greef Karga; magistrate of the Bounty Hunter's Guild on Nevarro.

It wasn't that Y/n didn't like Greef Karga - even though he didn't - he just had a strong dislike for the planet in general. It all annoyed him: the uncomfortably warm temperatures, the ashen ground that stuck irritatingly to the soles of his boots, and the Mandalorian that walked around with his shiney head held high like he was all the shit.

So, when Y/n found himself in a particularly tight debt, he was less than pleased when Greef Karga reached out to him, offering what he claimed to be the bounty of a lifetime. But, seeing that he had no other options - and was rightfully considered skint broke - he swallowed his pride and set his course for Nevarro City.

The people in the city were nice enough, considering they mainly stayed to themselves - aside from the Jawas, of course. It was ones that stayed hidden that Y/n had a problem with. He had caught glimpses of them before; their white, dulling armor flashing in the shadows. He held a great hatred for them, especially since he had fought so hard for so long, and lost so much, to rid the Galaxy of their kind.

At times, it did seem as if it had all been pointless, because Y/n had fought fiercely for peace, and ended up with nothing but a missing piece within him and a huge bounty on his head.

So Y/n L/n no longer went by his true name, instead, most knew him as N/n L/n: a name that Y/n had come up with when he was drunk in the corner of a cantina one time.

In fact, Y/n found himself drunk in the corner of cantinas as often as he could. Something about temporarily forgetting the pain and horror he'd gone through years ago was so seductive to him.

But he never let himself get drunk while he was in a cantina on business terms, as he presently was.

This cantina in Nevarro City was one where Y/n found himself regularly meeting Guild Magistrate, Greef Karga. Walking through the entrance, Y/n did his routine glance around the room, checking for threats, and seeing none deemed too harmful, as a large majority of them were fellow Guild members. Coming down the steps, he was greeted by Stacia, a regular Twi'lek waitress that continuously got on Y/n's nerves with the way she hovered around him like he was a thirst trap.

"N/n." She said in her breathy, flirty voice. "I was wondering when I'd see you here again."

Y/n offered a thin, painful smile. "You know me, Stacia. Always here on work." He attempted to step around her, but she was quick to block his path.

"Here, please, have a drink." She said, holding up her silver tray of drinks between them. "You look like you could use one.

"I don't have money on me." Y/n dismissed.

"Oh, that's not a problem." Stacia smirked  flirtatiously and leaned forward. "Its on the house, sugar."

Restraining himself from from frowning, Y/n sighed quietly. "Fine." He snatched a fluke off of the tray. "Now, if you'd excuse me, I've got a fob to collect."

Without waiting for Stacia to reply, Y/n pushed past her and continued on his way through the cantina. After dropping the fluke of alcohol on a table filled with gamblers, he was quick to head towards the table where the Guild magistrate normally dealed out bounties.

Upon arriving at the table, Y/n found that the seat across from Greef Karga was already occupied. He stopped a few feet away from them hesitantly.

Greef looked up from his conversation and grinned upon seeing the bounty hunter lingering near them. "N/n! I was wondering when you'd arrive! Come, come sit." He pulled up another chair and gestured to it.

Hesitantly, Y/n approached the table. He looked down at the bounty hunter who occupied the usual seat. It was the Guild's own Mandalorian, the one that Y/n wasn't ever very fond of for reasons even him himself didn't really know. Y/n and the Mandalorian had never conversed much, besides the occasion greetings and farewells. The longest conversation they'd had was when Y/n overheard him complaining of a complication with the thrusters on his Razor Crest, in which Y/n had suggested a trustworthy mechanic there in Nevarro City that was worth checking out. Something had compelled Y/n to speak to the mandalorian that day, and the mysterious man had since been on his mind, though the bounty hunter didn't know whether that was a good thing or not.

"Mando." Y/n nodded in greeting.

The Mandalorian did the same. "L/n."

Y/n sat down in the third chair and looked over at Greef. "Was I interrupting anything?"

"Oh, not at all." Greef assured, but they way Mando's helmeted head cocked made Y/n glance his way.

"Um, I understand you wanted to offer a job?" Y/n asked Greef.

At that, Greef suddenly became a but tense. "Yes, about that..." Y/n narrowed his eyes questioningly. "I was just speaking to Mando here, he's coincidentally interested in the same job."

Y/n sparred a slow glance over at the Mandalorian. "How much could this job possibly pay?" He asked rhetorically and skeptically.

For a moment, Greff deadpanned. "More than you could imagine."

Y/n smirked slightly. "Well, I can imagine quite a lot."

"You get my point." Y/n let out a small sigh. Once again, he glanced at Mando, who he found to be doing the same.

"There's two of us." Mando said. "And one bounty. So, how's this gonna work?"

Cautious and discreetly, Y/n eyed the hand holding his forked long-range blaster in his lap. Then he temporarily became distracted due to the strangely alluring build that was the Mandalorian's thighs. He had really nice thighs. Greef looked between them both, and Y/n snapped his eyes up as he started speaking.

"Go together."

There was a moment of silence it which Y/n and Mando stared at Greef, who seemed awkward in the situation. Finally, Y/n let out a scoff, which turned into a chuckle.

"What, like partners?" Y/n said. He sniggered again. "Yeah...I don't do partners."

"Neither do I." Said Mando, his voice devoid of much emotion.

Greef sighed. "Boys, hear me out." He said. "From what this client has told me, it's not a one man job." Y/n narrowed his eyes slightly and leaned forward to listen. "He claims the target is heavily guarded, that it has many guards, close to fifty, maybe more. If what he says is true, one bounty hunter facing down all of that security wouldn't make it out alive." Greef shrugged. "So, when the client told me this, I thought, who better to trust then my two best bounty hunters, N/n L/n and the Mandalorian?"

Y/n didn't particularly like the sound of his name in the same sentence as Mando's, but he found it enticing at the same time.

"If you both decide to take this fob - and if you come back alive - you two can split the bounty. From what I've heard, the payload will be enough for you both to be set for a long while."

Y/n took every one of Greef's words in, considering them carefully. A bounty of this size, even when split in half, would be enough to pay off his debt, which was his main concern at the moment. On the other hand, he didn't know this Mandalorian, and couldn't trust whether or not he wouldn't just kill him the moment they collected the target.

Before Y/n was able to consider this proposition any further, the Mando spoke.

"I'm in." He said. "If L/n is joining."

Then Mando, and Greef, turned to look at Y/n, who sat under their stares, thinking intently, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants - he really wished the Mandalorian would stop saying his name with that deep voice of his. But then he remembered why they other two men were staring at him, and was faced with the decision of what to do. With the way things were going with him, he didn't have much a choice.

So, sighing in surrender, Y/n gave his answer. "I suppose I'm in as well." He turned and nodded at Mando, who returned the gesture. He focused back on Greef. "Well, let's see the puck."

Greef, while seeming pleased with the arrangement, pursued his lips. "No puck. Face to face. Direct commission." Seeing Y/n's raised eyebrow, Greef nodded, confirming his suspicions. "Deep pocket."

"Underworld?" Asked Mando.

"All I know is no chaincode." He sighed - so quietly that it was almost inaudible - and reached into his pocket to pull out a small white card with a barcode and other information on it. He held it front of them. "Do you want the chit, or not?"

Both bounty hunters stared at the card for a moment. Then, Mando reached out, and quickly took it from the magistrate's hand, then he stood up.

"Are you coming?" Mando asked Y/n, looking down at him.

Y/n glanced at Greef, then stood up. "Wouldn't wanna miss this." He muttered to himself, ticking his eyebrows and huffing in exasperation, and turned to walk out of the cantina with his new partner.

Almost immediately, Y/n wasn't very sure what to think of the Mandalorian. He barely spoke, and was always on guard. And not to mention how he seemed to be a mysterious person by nature. Y/n didn't like mysterious people. There was always something to fear from them. But on the other hand, there was always something so alluring about them, and maybe that was why Y/n kept seeing the Mandalorian tilt his helmet sideways, as if he was glancing at Y/n out of the corner of his eyes and trying to being discrete about it. Well, if that was the case, he was failing miserably.

The two of them didn't speak the entire time they maneuvered through the small crowds in the city's center, and slipped down a barren alleyway. Y/n was alright with their silence, though. It gave him an opportunity to think their situation over.

He thought it was suspicious that they were going to see the contact in person. It was alarming as well. It meant that there was more information that they required for the job, and that there would be certain conditions that they would have to meet. Y/n didn't like when there was rules.

They arrived at the building where the direct commission was supposed to be held roughly ten minutes after Y/n and the Mandalorian left the cantina. It was in a very secluded part of the city, which was never a good sign.

They stopped in front of the blank, grey door and stared at it. Y/n would by lying if he claimed he wasn't on edge.

The Mandalorian reached out and knocked on the metal door. Then not a second later a hatch on the side of the wall opened and a security scanner popped out.

Startled, and whipping his head to face it, Y/n's hand slung his blaster out of its holster, ready to shoot. Before he could raise the weapon, the Mandalorian's hand shot out and caught Y/n's wrist, keeping it down.

Y/n tensed, partially because he realized it was only a scanner, and partially because the Mandalorian had stopped him so quickly and calmly.

The scanner quickly spoke in Huttese, demanding a barcode for access. Letting go of Y/n's wrist, Mando pulled the chit from Greef out of his pocket, and held it up in front of the scanner. After scanning it, the scanner disappeared back inside the wall. Y/n sighed and quickly put his blaster back in his holster.

"You have fast reflexes." Said the Mandalorian to Y/n as they stood there waiting for the door to open.

Y/n glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes. "So do you."

"Are you alright?"

Y/n hesitated. Then he lied. "Yep. Just startled me, is all."

The Mandalorian wasn't stupid. He knew a lie when he heard one. But now wasn't the time to confront Y/n about it.

The door in front of them creaked rustily as it was opened for them to walk inside. The two bounty hunters exchanged a look, and then Mando stepped into the doorway.

Y/n hesitantly followed him inside and sighed. He had a bad feeling about this.

Please like if you enjoyed! Reblogs are appreciated!

-- bitchin n bustin <3

[volucrine]

BG3 Act 3 snafu

Endgame spoilers and grumping, you have been warned

So, Tumblr, I have been putting off finishing the game for a long, long time to the point of now running out of things I can do in Act 3.

The reason for stalling, however, isn't because I'm not ready to say goodbye to characters (I know I'll just start a new game immediately). But that I know that my endgame logic and options are, without a shadow of doubt, absolutely fucked.

Like, I've opened the portal to the House of Hope, but interacting with it does absolutely nothing (I want my money back, Mammon!)

Ever since I finished Gale's Act 3 quest, I've had Elminster hanging out in my camp with an exclamation mark only to fob me off when I try to speak to him. Gale himself doesn't seem to be either aware or excited that I have all three stones now.

Duke Ravengard thinks Wyll sold his soul to free him while Mizora doesn't. Wyll himself seems to be changing his mind about what's happened depending on the dialogue line. (For the record, he threw his father under the bus and then we saved him anyway)

The gnomes are, for the lack of the better word, also fucked. Both the Windmill Gnome and his evil blue friend think that they are the leader of the Ironhand gnomes and both have entries in my journal promising allies.

Dame Aylin never returned to Isobel from the successful completion of the wizard tower quest, so Isobel has been just chilling at my campsite like a Selunite hobo.

Lae'Zel has forgotten that Voss exists (which is for the better considering we've been scammed about the portal).

Everything is so phenomenally broken that I'm kind of afraid of proceeding to the ending because I'm not sure what other options I've been locked out of by bugs. Wouldn't surprise me if we get to the brain and Astarion turns into the vampire lord mid-dialogue, after which Gale spontaneously explodes, the end.

I do love this game, but it's clear that my Act 3 on this character is fucked in every possible way and will need to be replayed once the endgame is patched to be less of a shambolic bug mess.

[alonetogether]

on the miss missing you spiral with you lot and frankly honing in on the hot whiskey eyes line to avoid the emotional damage of "Patrick's Soul Punk writing was at least on the greater layer about the music (like how he says The I In Lie is about sacrificing musical integrity) so if he did write most of the lyrics for mmy then it's probably largely about missing the fall out boy creative process". I'm here in the "haha he said hot whiskey eyes" because focusing solely on the hiatus peterick layer hurts less than considering both layers mingling together to result in a song that ultimately would have a music video that mirrors their very first music video with a plot. Which was Saturday. With all it entails.

So, um, haha nice imagery of shirtless Pete chilling in the pool. chlorine kissed summer skin hahahhhh

IM GETTING A HEADACHE why would you make mmy and saturday parallels WHAT is wrong with yougbfdhjikjmnHGUJISOKJ god... but yeah, SRAR as a whole is sooo so bittersweet to me in hindsight cause its sweet cause they are back together and they all literally didnt think they would at one point in time i bet but also its bitter cause ther was so much uncertainty that carries onto this DAY like theyre STILL surprised that we care so much about their music, patrick STILL comments on the size of the crowds, and its the same for whenever i look at patrick in soul punk era liek i cant even truly focus on how "hot" he was (he's always been hot, newsflash) cause i just cant not think about how fucking depressed he was and missing what he knew and what he found comfort in which was when fob was at its most stable, so yeah like MMY is sooo about him missing fob but also a lot of his fob creative process is bouncing off of pete so by extension too its about pete, and its also about the fans and himself and god. if i think too hard about the intricacies on how it all ties together, how they tie together ill blow up so i just wont actually x

[blackjackkent]

OK, back to camp, post-Karlach-acquisition. (Karlachquisition?)

We'll get to Wyll's terrible horrible no good very bad night shortly, but first we have to tell Karlach that we crave murder. This is part of the onboarding process now. Standard operating procedure. Here's your key fob, here's your email address, here's your boss whose brain is completely empty except for a little voice that says kill at all times.

Karlach, of course, is a complete sweetheart about it to a degree that Rakha does not deserve in the slightest.

"I have no memories of where I came from, of who I really am. Is this part of ceremorphosis?"

Rakha always phrases the question this way. It's as if she's desperately hoping that finally, finally one of them will say - yes, this is because of the worm, there is an explanation, there is a reason. But she is less and less hopeful, each time, that it will lead to anything.

Karlach shrugs. "Hm. I don't *think* so," she says slowly, her jaw jutting out in a pensive expression. "At least, *I* still remember everything - in more detail than I'd wish." She grins suddenly, with that indomitable good humor that she already displayed back at the river as soon as she was sure Wyll wasn't going to run her through. "But as for what's going on in your mind, and maybe in mine - I'm certain there are answers out there. We'll find them together."

Is it deliberate, Rakha wonders. Does Karlach know how strongly the search for answers drives her, the only thing that can overwhelm the need for blood? Or is it simply a lucky guess, that strange open-heartedness that has no place in their terrible struggle?

Either way, she feels comforted - which is the most unsettling thing she could possibly feel.

"I am drawn to violence," she says bluntly. "To blood. Obsessions that could become compulsions."

Karlach blinks, startled, but to Rakha's surprise - at least based on her past similar conversations - she grins again. "Well, look," she says, reaching out and putting a hand on Rakha's shoulder. "You've said it - right out loud. That takes guts. The guts you'll need to change."

Rakha looks at her in puzzlement. Change? This is who she is, or at least the only being she has any knowledge of. It is confusing and difficult to control, sometimes frightening. But it is her.

Karlach hesitates, seeming to register something of what is going on in Rakha's mind, because she shrugs and laughs softly. "Or at least make sure you're channeled in the right direction. We've got enough enemies who could do with a good blood-letting, you know."

Rakha remembers the images in Karlach's head, and in Wyll's - devils with their heads severed, demons with their bellies cut out, the tiefling's wild rampage in Zariel's service and then, eventually, in escape. Yes, Karlach knows all about the necessity of blood.

Another lesson, though - not so far from the one she received from Lae'zel. Channel it. Focus your strength, your 'guts'. Find your enemies. Spill them first.

And more subtle, buried deep under Karlach's words, so subtle that Rakha doesn't even articulate it yet to herself - creature of blood you may be, but you have the strength to change, and one day, perhaps, you will decide you want to.

[music-orthemisery]

I’m back with actual thoughts. They’re not coherent, more rambling, but they are thoughts, so here you go!

I’ve been in the fob fandom for a while. I got into them during the hiatus, was on the very outside of fandom during srr, and joined during abap. I kinda floated in and out. This is all to say I’ve seen p2’s post hiatus interactions in various forms for years. I’ve seen people’s different theories, from they are romantically involved, to best buds, to that they are just coworkers.

maybe it’s just recency bias, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen them so close or so fond of each other. They just seem to be so… loving towards each other??? Like it’s the french cabbage comment night every night. “I’ve been reduced to the words you’ve chosen for me” who says that??? “You look especially good tonight” “play us a song, love”. and patrick doesn’t roll his eyes, or make a face. what the fuck??? Like, whatever you want to theorize their relationship is, there’s so much love there.

HIIIII ANON!

i know not what you speak of - this is perfectly coherent to me!

first off, i don't think it's recency bias at all as i've been defining SMFS as the era where they stopped giving a fuck. i'd argue that not only p2, but also fob as a whole, are the most comfortable and having the most fun than any other time in their career. their collective presence now is SO at ease and joyful - it's truly been beautiful to witness.

more specifically to p2, i think covid really challenged them and had them come to terms with what really matters in life. there has been tangible love between them since the very beginning, but i think they are less concerned about public opinion now and more willing to show that love more explicitly.

the media circus of the 00s' - which was even more cruel and invasive than it is now (IMO) - nearly ripped fob, and p2, apart. looking at sources from back then can give you a picture of that. let me tell you, though - living through it? it was...rough to witness. i'd be shocked if any fan who was paying attention then was SURPRISED by the hiatus.

sad, yes. but surprised? no.

post-h fob was A LOT more careful with their boundaries - they were still themselves, but they were definitely more reserved, especially in how they interacted with each other. p2 were especially more careful and there was definitely a particular...narrative being pushed. they loosened up over time, but. there was a VIBE...

i think the pandemic really did punt them into - fuck it, why don't we just be/do what we want? why are we keeping ourselves in this box? as pete has said many times recently - life is short, so do everything.

(i'd also....be very curious about their label change. you don't just switch labels for funsies. just sayin.)

at the same time, i don't think that trauma from the 00s will ever leave them, so, at the end of the day, they WILL opt to be more private than not, and i don't think we ever will know the true depth of their relationship.

i will end by saying that i REALLY struggle with the "just coworkers/patrick just puts up with pete/patrick is annoyed by pete/patrick,joe,andy put up with pete for the paycheck/etc." narratives that i see float around. i could go on a whole rant on that alone, but i'll keep it focused to this -

if p2 don't actually have the deep relationship they say they do, why do they keep saying it? why is the term "soulmate" being used in 2024? why are they still pushing the narrative about this if it isn't true? they could've left that in the dust YEARS ago. their fame does NOT count on that. fans are often blinded by the fact that this is a HUGE band and the majority of people who make them successful know NOTHING about their band dynamics. they don't need to engage in this "fan service" to be successful at this point, and it's certainly nothing p2 would agree to now after what they went through pre-h.

anon, this is probably more than what you were looking for, but all i'm saying is that your thoughts here are TOTALLY valid and please send more <3

[earlgreytea68]

okay so i have fallen headfirst back into fob w smfs and having that album drop coinciding w finally being in a place where I can just! buy tickets!! and see them on tour!! And i did and it was AMAZING

part of falling back into this has been lurking on fob/peterick blogs again the way I did back in HS, and yours brings me so much joy! what a lovely community you’ve cultivated here, and i adore your fics sm as well—I’m systematically working my way through each one

so a lot of love your way <3 i do need a bit of a second opinion though—I’ve been working myself up over trying to figure out if I can see them again while they’re touring for smfs. There’s a part of me that worries that this might be the last album—the same part that was the most upset when they were touring for MANIA and i couldn’t make that show. SO i would love to hear if you’ve got any thoughts re whether my fears hold any water—or if you think I should chill out, enjoy the ride of keeping up w this tour, and be secure in the fact that our boys aren’t going anywhere any time soon

Hello! First of all, yay, welcome back, and thank you so much for all of your kind words!

I know that there were a ton of rumors this was going to be their last album and they were going to call it quits after this, but having heard the album and watched them promote it and then seeing this tour they're putting on...it seems so unlikely to me???? They just don't act like a band who's done, who doesn't have anything more to say. Like, when Patrick talks about Fall Out Boy he's so very clear that it's, like, necessary for him to have, that it's the art and creativity that he does because of how much he loves it, not a job, and it would seem weird for him to talk that way, so vocally, if there was any inkling in his head that this would be the last time he would have it, you know?

And Pete has been the less vocal one this cycle, and we know he was the one who was reluctant to do another album and undertake another tour, but he has seldom seen so genuinely happy as he has during this tour, he seems to be loving every second of it.

And Joe came back and also seems delighted to be back.

Idk, I do not get the feeling of a band with any intention of winding down. They feel completely reinvigorated and reinspired and ready to go. It would not at all surprise me if they're already writing the next one, we know Patrick and Pete like to write while on tour. And I think they've really enjoyed being out of contract and having total control back, I really think it has opened up the horizons of what they want to and can do. Plus their fanbase has turned out for them loyally and so I don't think they are getting any kind of message that they're not wanted or needed anymore.

So Idk, I think in my heart of hearts there will be another album and another tour eventually someday.

All of that said, there will probably be people who will disagree with this life advice, and please always do what's best for you and your financial situation and life situation, but also: life is short, and uncertain. I didn't get into Fall Out Boy until the Mania tour was just wrapping up, and they announced they were going to play a random festival in Cincinnati and I agonized over going and finally decided to do it and I have to be frank, that weekend in Cincinnati was one of the best weekends of my life, I think about all the time how wonderful it was, the show was incredible, and it was the last concert I saw before the pandemic hit and I spent all of that time just being so incredibly grateful that I'd gone to that Cincinnati concert because otherwise I would have regretted it forever.

If you are in the incredibly lucky and privileged position to be able to afford to do something that you really want to do, and doing so will not bankrupt you or send you into a debt crisis or harm previous commitments you need to keep or, etc., etc., like, if the only argument you can come up with against doing something is "Idk, would this be ridiculous????," Idk, I think I'd err on the side of doing the thing. That's not just advice for Fall Out Boy concerts. You get to do this life thing once, and it goes by so much faster than you can possibly anticipate. If something's going to bring you joy, that's pretty precious. Take it where you can get it.