#anyways yeah... i DO think soda is the one who can play guitar... AND WHAT... /silly

[sodapopcurtis-dx-asks]

favorite birthday gift you’ve ever received??

HA! A kiss on the cheek and a slap on the ass.

Soda gave himself a good chuckle with that reply, having to calm himself down after Steve patted him to let him know he was being loud.

I'm just messin', pardon my language there. Uhm...

Well, to be quite honest with you, it's not often I really get birthday gifts? I don't really ask for much except for cake and people!

And that's me being completely honest! Every year, Darry and Pony will bug me the week of and be like "So, Sodapop, whattya want for your birthday?" and every time I say "Chocolate cake and a good time!"

I always get the cake. Obviously. Sometimes I'll switch it up and tell them to put a speciifc frosting color on it, one year I chose yellow cake instead of chocolate, blah blah blah.

But the good time only comes after everyone gets into the house and we start partyin'.

But you asked for gift as in something physically I'm guessin', and I'd probably saaayyy... my pop's guitar.

I don't really use it much, but when I first got it I would play eeeeeverrryyyy day. I say I'm a singer— I'm lying to you. I'm TERRIBLE at singing. It's Ponyboy who got the singing abilities from Mama in the family. I can sure dance and play though!

Not to toot my own horn or anything, that is... But it's one of my favorite gifts. It stays in my "old" room. Every so often when people are out of the house and it's just me, I'll play and practice. I hate playing around people 'cuz I got real bad stage fright.

Soda glances over at Steve again, smiling at the brunette, who was still happily snacking on whatever he could find.

But yeah, the guitar is definitely my favorite. :)

[angelwishess]

Random funfacts about the Floyra kids bcs I need to ramble abt them!!!!

And Idk when I’ll be able to make their intro posts HELP

Just like her mama, Alora attracts creatures too! …Except, they aren’t cute, little forest critters, but instead terrifying monsterous beasts. Yeah…

She took the “Beast Tamer” thing literally it seems, because anytime theres a magical beast lurking around, Alora can somehow always manage to tame it. She thinks they’re “cute” and likes to dress them up! Just like how Kyra used to ask for assistance with the critters, Alora does the same with the beasts!

Alora is actually very talented in wrestling, and she may or may not have a sleeper build… (This was inspired by Japanese wrestler Mizuki!)

Evelio is actually the most prone to mood swings amongst the Leech siblings! Though he may be able to hide his emotions better than his painfully honest siblings, he’s still the most moody of the bunch.

Growing up, Kyra taught the kids to play chess. But not the traditional kind of chess, no— She taught them how to play ‘Chess Anarchy’. A silly version of the game where there are basically no rules. The only way to win was to create a better excuse than your opponent for the ridiculous moves you do.

Because of this, Marven used to always win at chess against Evelio. After all, he’s always been too creative for his own good!

Both twins were suprised when they found out there was a tradition version of chess and, surprisingly, even Evelio disliked it. The Leech siblings found the original game boring. The only reason Evelio even likes it a little bit, is because its the only time he can beat Marven at chess lmao

Chimere dyes her hair ALOT. Im talking new month, new hair color!! She just cant stick to one thing, and that goes for style, too! Her aesthetic is constantly changing, and its just as restless as she is!

Chimere is a busy body who likes to burn energy by taking on odd jobs around campus. Anyways, shes a Jack of All Trades and a ridiculously quick learner, and she uses that to her advantage all the time!

She’ll do a favor or two for you as well, if you have a good payment! …Money? Pfft! Of course not! She expects something cool or fun in return, maybe a part of your soda cap collection, or a random playing card. Your choice, just don’t make it “boring”.

Chimere is also a total party animal, and enjoys any kind of festivity! Honestly, its like she brings the party wherever she is though, her endless energy is simply infectious!

Chimere dabbles in ballet, too! She loves all dancing in general though, and thought it’d be fun to try a new style! Dancing is her favorite thing to do, after all!

Chimere is a Ribbon Eel! Yeah, Chimere was actually adopted by Kyra and Floyd! I decided to give them one more just because RibbonEel was one of Floyra’s possible other ship names, and thought the idea of Kyra and Floyd just randomly snatching up a kid with no parents was too funny to miss out on.

Maven is a flirt. It probably ties in with his whole ‘wannabe rockstar’ thing, but he just loves the swell of pride in his chest when he knows someone is charmed by him. Don’t get him wrong, he’s not a playboy! He won’t ever pursue any of the people he flirts with (well, except for one…), he just likes to flirt!

…However, Marven is actually quite ashamed of this ngl WHAHAHAH, only because he feels guilty when the thought of what his mama would think about it crosses his mind. He may be a flirt— but please don’t tell his mom!! He’d rather die than let her know!

Whenever shes around, Marven straightens up immediately! Buttoning up his blouse and acting like hes done nothing wrong… But Evelio knows. And he uses it as black mail 😭

While the twins are both in the Spelldrive Club, Marven has his own band! Hes a vocalist and plays electric guitar— his favorite! (Mostly because it makes him ‘look cool’.)

Marven… Really just likes anything that makes him look cool. Thats his reason for most things he does, honestly… (Evelio says hes pathetic LMFAO)

He may look rough around the edges but the truth is Marven is probably the nicest out of his siblings! No matter how tough he tries to act, if you ask him enough he’ll probably eventually cave and ‘bregrudgingly’ help out.

Alora may be eager to help out— but her unpredictability and eccentricity usually makes the whole situation go completely wrong. She does try her best, but… Her methods are rather strange.

Evelio is actually very unorganized. He can never find whatever he last put down, especially in his room.

Marven, on the other hand, is amazing at finding things! Its like he can find anything, really. (Evelio always has to ask for his help). His own room is unorganized too, but its more like organized chaos. He knows where everything is, he just doesnt bother to clean up if he doesnt feel like it HAHA

Marven is clingy as hell. He’d be one of those kids that check on his parents’ location on an app and call them if they leave without telling them anything😭😭

Evelio is actually the same way, but he just wont admit it.

Chimere is always on some random side quest. You can barely find her in the same place as before, always running off to go on some sort of adventure elsewhere. She seeks out fun and adrenaline just as much as Kyra did!

Alora loves LOVESS to jumpscare people. She’ll appear out of nowhere and spook them. Its all in good fun, though! In her eyes, they’re all just playing.

[issaxcharlie]

Always You

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem Reader

Summary: {We Play Pretend Series} Charlie decides to stop overthinking and finally proposes to his best friend at his very own way.

Songs Used: Black and White by Niall Horan and I’ll Follow You by Echosmith

Word Count: +2k

Charlie finally finishes preparing the fire as Y/N comes out of the tent in his orange hoodie, one of his bandanas adorning her high ponytail. Her dazzling smile blanks him for a few seconds, and the day he asked her to be his girlfriend for the first time appeared on the back of his head.

He was maybe even more nervous than he is right now, and he blurted out the question without realizing it. It wasn't until Y/N jumped into his arms and pressed her lips against his that he finally understood what was happening. That day was the happiest day of his life, but then it was overcome by the day their paths crossed again, then by the day they became a couple again, then by the day they moved in together, and if everything goes well, now it will be overcome by this one. He smiles fondly at the memories. One thing is for sure, with Y/N everything always gets better.

She sits next to him, reaching out to sink her face into her boyfriend's neck. When he suggested for them to take a little camping trip before they returned to Canada for the holidays, she said yes without hesitation. First of all, because she loves to experience moments like this with him. Memories of all the times they camped in the Gillespie's backyard when they were children lighting up her heart. And secondly, because she knows that he needs the peace and calm that being here gives him, after all, she has no doubt that Charlie has planned to propose to her during the trip back home.

“Did you enjoy the day? I know you wanted to rest before the trip, it means a lot to me that you agreed to come.” He confessed while wrapping his arm around her, lifting the hoodie slightly to caress the sensitive skin on her waist.

“Char, we spent hours blasting our favorite albums, we elegantly ate ridiculously delicious gas station hotdogs, you spilled the soda down your pants which was quite entertaining, and now I'm under the stars by your side on a beautiful night. If you ask me, this is the perfect day.” She declares without hesitation, raising her head a little to give him a soft kiss in his jawline.

Charlie blushes, happiness flooding his soul just as always with his precious girl. “I couldn’t agree more. Everyday I get to spend with you is a perfect one.” She smirks at his words, her raised eyebrow indicates she's ready to fight him.

"Oh yeah? Even the time I convinced you that Santa was obviously born in Canada and we searched for his house all over the city?" He snorts thinking about two really small ten year olds doing mischief around the town.

"You had very convincing arguments. Shame our parents didn’t think the same and punished us for a month."

“It’s not really punishment if we get to spend it together anyways.” Y/N added, remembering all the hours of fun they managed to have in the Gillespie’s leaving room.

"They had no other choice, we were attached by the hips. I mean, we tried to elope and live in the park a year earlier just because we were sick of saying goodbye every night.” Charlie reminds her while breaking into laughter.

“Mom had to convince us to come back, telling us that one day we could get married and be together in a way nicer place than the park. And you didn’t believe her because what could be nicer than the park?” Y/N recalls, the image of their 9 year old selves swinging with their backpacks full of important prized possessions like Charlie's collection of rocks or Y/N’s toy microphone making them laugh.

“She had to explain to me everything about that marriage thing she was talking about on the way home.” Charlie says with a smile.

“And then you propose a few days later in your backyard, with a red ring pop and a beautiful original song you played on your guitar.” She hugs him tightly, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“I was nine, I'm sure it wasn’t beautiful. It probably didn't even make sense. But, I wrote it with a lot of love, just for you to eat the ring five minutes later.” He calls her out, sticking out his tongue in a playful way.

“And I’ll do it again.” He pretends to be offended but Y/N just needs to kiss him and whisper that she loves him against his lips for him to smile again. “We were quite intense children, huh?”

His eyes light up, and he winks cheekily. “We still are.”

Charlie gently kisses her hair and gets up to take his guitar, meanwhile she sits a little further away from him to give him enough room to play, and he tries to control the shaking of his hand while playing a soft sound he has been working on.

Once he finally calmed down a little, he starts to play the song he drove so far away to play, deciding it’s time. “That first night we were standing at your door, fumbling for your keys, then I kissed you. Ask me if I want to come inside, 'cause we didn't want to end the night. Then you took my hand, and I followed you.” Y/N had never heard that song before, which immediately surprises her because they live together, how come she never heard it? She puts attention to the lyrics and realizes he is talking about the night they became a couple again, after the Stand Tall presentation.

“Yeah, I see us in black and white, crystal clear on a star lit night, In all your gorgeous colors, I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life. See you standing in your dress, swear in front of all our friends there'll never be another. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life.” Then everything clicks. How nervous he has been all day, his "sudden" desire to camp before the holidays, the eyes full of emotion with which he has looked at her all night. And suddenly this day is even more perfect than she ever believed it could be.

“Now, we're sitting here in your living room, telling stories while we share a drink or two. And there's a vision I've been holding in my mind, we're 65 and you ask when did I first know?" Tears begin to fall down her cheeks, the purest smile she has ever had stuck on her face. “I always knew.” They whisper at the same time in a broken voice, Charlie trying very hard not to cry at their matched answer so he can finish the song.

“I want the world to witness, when we finally say I do. It's the way you love, I gotta give it back to you. I see us in black and white, crystal clear on a star lit night, In all your gorgeous colors. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life.”

He finishes the song, puts down the guitar while taking a deep breath and kneels carefully in front of her. “It has always been you. It was you when we were 8 years old and only you could borrow my best crayons, It was you when we were 16 and I learned to drive because you had no one to take you to your auditions, and It was you when we were 22 and I asked you to move in with me because I couldn’t stand be apart from you again. You are the only one with whom I feel as ecstatic as when I jump into the sea, and all you have to do is look at me to achieve it. You are light, Y/N. This beautiful bright star that for some reason, always chooses me. I love you so much, beautiful. You are the love of my life, It will always be you.”

She can't stop the tears falling down her face, her hand lovingly caressing the cheek of the man in front of her. "Y/N Y/L, will you marry me?" She doesn’t give him time to react and joins their lips hard, trying desperately to make him feel everything she is feeling in those moments. He responds fervently, taking her with one hand firmly by the thigh while with the other caresses her neck, confidently putting his hand inside the hoodie.

She bites his pouty lower lip to smoothly slide her tongue, and he strokes her breasts gently before removing his hand from the collar of her clothing. When they finally separate to breathe, Y/N's eyes move to what Charlie is holding in front of her, a precious ring dangling from a golden chain that she has apparently been wearing as a necklace for who knows how many hours.

“Yes, yes, yes. I would always choose you Char.” Y/N gets up and helps Charlie to his feet, only to pull him close and bring his body against hers, her hands entwining in his hair while his arms wrap around her hips. His face shining with happiness. “The necklace was a smart move. Since when have I been wearing it?” She asks while staring deeply at his dazzling green eyes.

“You are unable to keep a ring on your finger for more than three days, there was no other option. I put it on after you fell asleep on the road.”

"This is the first time you managed to fool me. I totally thought you were going to propose in Canada."

“I know it wasn't glamorous but-”

“Shh, it was perfect. The song is beautiful, the ring looks just as I always dreamed of and you are all I want and more. I have never been happier. Heck, you could have asked me this morning while we were in our pajamas watching cartoons and I would have cried with joy anyway. Char, you're everything I need.” He kisses her deeply, releasing all the emotions that had had him stressed throughout the day, enjoying the company of his future wife and the way that only she knows how to melt him.

He lets go briefly to search something in his phone, and the melody he just played starts to fill the comfortable silence.

“It’s my favorite song already.” She whispers against his lips, a small smile in the corner of her mouth.

“It’s all yours, just like me.” Both laugh at how cheesy it sounded, dancing in each other's arms under the stars. Silently thanking God for having found their soulmate in this life.

Although he swears he has enough energy to dance the night away, after an hour Y/N notices just how tired Charlie actually is, and drags him to the tent to get some rest.

“Baby, I’m okay. I want to celebrate all night with you.” He whispers in her ear, catching her by the waist the moment she leans his head against the pillow to prevent her from getting up.

“Easy there, tiger. You can't even keep your eyes open. You drove nonstop for hours without complaining once just because you know I don't like driving. You did the hardest work with the tent and the fire, plus all the time we spent hiking. You need to rest.” His grasp on her loosens and she moves quickly to his side. He turns over his shoulder and leans on her chest, wrapping his arm around her waist.

She smiles at the sight and starts to softly play with his curls while singing him to sleep. “I fell in love at first sight, green eyes that fix it all. Your heart, it feels it all.” All the times she seeked the comfort in his beautiful eyes during the years replaying in her head. The way they shined with love and confusion that first day at the jatp bootcamp replaying in her mind.

“And I, I can't believe that you're mine.” She lets go of his hair to admire the ring around her neck with more attention, but his hand instantly reaches for hers and puts it back on his hair, making her chuckle. “You take away every breath. I can't believe I'm still speechless.” She whispers, planting small kisses on his hair, inhaling the scent of his shampoo as she wraps him in her arms.

“Charles Gillespie, It will always be you.”

Thanks for reading ✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15 @magnet-girl @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05 @twist3dtinkerbell @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01 @lunashadow6955 @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @dpaccione @tuttigunner @calamitykaty @owensgoathat @magicalxdaydream @sunsetcurvej @ss-tipton @rangerelik @badwolf00593 @fobobozobo @justalittleweirdoo

[kurt-nightcrawler]

How to know if the lost girls have a crush on you

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐚𝐩! 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: mentions of drug use and language

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I know requests aren’t open jddndjdj but I enjoy writing for the lost girls so enjoy!!

Darcy

Darcy is a sucker for romance

She’s a bit shy and awkward, despite her semi-scary looking demeanor 

(She’s 6’0 and has resting bitch face)

Darcy isn’t going to be super obvious or up-front about her feelings at first though

It will be the cliche “we’ve been friends for 10 years and everyone knows we like each other except us” 

Darcy will always have a hand on you. She wants to feel your presence 

subtle touches, little “pinky holding” or her playing with strands of your hair

Her poking any freckles you have when she first discovers them

You’re one of the few people she let’s mess with her hair. Which is a telling sign

“Your hair looks nice Darce” “thanks, (Y/N) did it” “oh worm? 👀” 

She loves having you run your hands through her hair, it soothes her

Sometimes, if you can’t make it to the cave— bad weather, car trouble, etc.— shell come over and you guys watch a movie together

Darcy’s got an extensive tape collection of rom-coms, so she’ll pop one into the tv and snuggle under covers with you

She’s probably going to ask to borrow your clothes if she’s “really cold” since she exclusively wears sports bras and her leather jacket

Also she likes that your sweaters and sweatshirts smell like you 

But you’ll definitely have to have been friends for awhile before she even CONSIDERS telling you how she feels

“I live forever. I have to be sure about my feelings and what if I get rejected?” “Anyone who rejects you is stupid. Almost stupid as Michelle—“ “HEY!” 

But overtime she’ll try to make things more obvious— to the point where Pauline and Marcella are teasing you both and then she kind of HAS to come clean

But you find it sweet! 

And a bit shocking, someone as powerful and strong and amazing and gorgeous as her, has feelings for YOU??? damn okay babe 

Dominique 

Dom is going to be a bit cold at first

It’s not necessarily intentional, but she just has this aura of mystery around her

Those icy blue eyes that peer into your soul

And anyway she wants to get to know what you like and if you like her

If not, she can’t exactly force you 

Cough cough Michelle cough cough

 Anyway, Dominique will try to learn about the things you like so you have something to talk about

Even if they aren’t her cup of tea. She’s a good listener and likes seeing your face light up and you so passionate about a subject/hobby

Dom is going to steal buy you things she thinks you’d like

“You said you liked cherry chapstick. I got you some.” “I got you some chips and your favorite soda in case you’re hungry” “Here. I saw this giant care bear and thought of you.”

It’s sweet, but you feel a bit flustered and embarrassed, not giving her anything in return

“Seeing you smile is enough, Kitten”

Speaking of! Pet names! 

Dominique finds using your full/actual name too personal

So if you have a nickname she’ll use it. If not she’s given you pet names— most notable are Kitten and Pumpkin

She’s not big on physical touch but sometimes she’ll put the idea of it into your mind so you want it

She won’t manipulate you, but she wants you to come to her. She’s had too many bad experiences where she confessed first, and she doesn’t want another one

So when you do finally confess to her she’s all smug and knowing

“I um… I really like you… and uh well—“ “I know.” “Oh…” “I like you too.”  “Oh!”

 Marcella

She’s going to be playful and flirty with you but quick to deny anything the other girls accuse her of

“No I don’t have feelings for (Y/N)! Shut up!” “Haha you so do!”

She’s rowdy and high energy but also more quiet than Pauline

So she’s not going to just blurt it out or recite sonnets for you

Instead she’ll give you a patch she was going to put on her jacket. Or make you a cool little pin

She’ll constantly hype you up if you’re wanting to try new fashion styles or wear something out of your comfort zone

“You look amazing! Better than any girl out on the boardwalk” “You really think so?” “I would never lie to you. Honest.” 

She’ll let you braid her hair and stick all kinds of colorful little clips and barrettes in her curls 

(I know they weren’t popular until the 90s but imagining covering her hair in hundreds of little butterfly clips!) 

Honestly she’ll be like those movie scenes where “do you like it?” *it’s hideous* “if not you don’t have to wear it!” “No. I’m never taking it off.” 

She asks you to help care for her pigeons so you guys can bond together more

“Does Pauline or Sebastian usually help you feed them?” “No. No one does. I don’t let them.” “Oh…”

If someone upsets you she's ready to go and have them as her meal for the night

Sometimes you have to stop her

“Look! Cathy from my work is a total bitch but you can’t kill her! I won’t have anyone to cover my shift tomorrow”

“Fine… You're lucky I love you”

“What?”

“What?” 

She’d probably accidentally tell you and then act like she has no idea what you could be talking about

“Well I like you too. But I dunno… Dom’s pretty cute too—“ 

“Oh that’s it!” She’s definitely smothering you in little kisses and tickling you, getting you say you’re sorry and say you think she’s the cutest

 Pauline

She’s just going to blurt it out point blank. 

Why wait? If Pauline likes someone, she likes someone! She may be immortal but she’s also immortally impatient 

She tells you she likes you so much you start to think she’s kidding

But she’s not! 

She’ll bring you baked goods edibles and take you out to concerts and maybe steal your shoelace to wear on her wrist

Sometimes you’ll have little “sleepovers” and you’ll hangout at the cave. Usually this means sharing a joint and watching her play songs on her guitar

She’s definitely not exclusively playing romantic songs for you

One night she’ll get high and just pour her heart out to you

“And I think you’re one of the coolest people I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of people, babe… And sure, I’m definitely a bit ditzy but I’m not completely stupid! I know you don’t believe me, but I really really like you! I think about you a lot and I hate when you have to leave right before the sun rises. And on nights you can’t hangout with us it’s so boring! We do the same things every night, but you always make them special. I really like you babe… I really really like you…”

She’ll wanna take you out on a little date to one of the small bands playing on the boardwalk and you’ll both dance together and she’ll be real giddy and excited and probably kiss you but it’s really messy and quick because she was just so wrapped up in the music! 

 Michelle

She’s really obvious

Like, staring at you with heart eyes when she first sees you out on the boardwalk

She’ll try to not-so-subtly follow you around. She’s not being creepy, but she just wants to admire your beauty 

She thinks she’ll never see you again

Imagine her surprise when she sees you again! 

“Told you! She probably lives around town” “Shut up Sam!” 

You’ll eventually confront her and ask what her deal is

“Oh! Uh, um, well, I just— I... like... your outfit?...” 

She’s bad at coming up with an alibi

“thanks. I get most of my clothes at the thrift store away from the boardwalk. Wanna join sometime?” “Uh yeah! Sounds good!” 

She’s going to do some dumb things to impress you— racing on her bike, getting more piercings, dressing in lots of leather, offering to buy you food— but you think it’s cute

She’ll follow you around like a lost puppy at times, partially cause she’s new in town

Sam likes you though!

When you and Michelle hangout, you’ve usally got the braincell and you don’t tease Sam for liking comics so much

“No Samantha, I’m not taking you to the comic shop” “Aww Sammy I will!” “Thanks (Y/N)! You’re the best”

Honestly you knew the whole time she liked you! You had moments of doubt but she’s always so obvious about it. Once you even swore she drooled over you

A bit gross, but you were also eating ice cream so…

Visiting her at work! She’s a lifeguard down at the beach! She’s definitely trying to get you visit her ;) and go swim and sunbathe ;) maybe have her “perform cpr” on you ;)

But you’d still have to make the first move if you wanted it to go any further 

 Sebastian 

He’s got this aura of mystery around him 

But he’ll steal glances if he spots you in the crowd, thinking you’re cute

The lost girls will want him to bring you back to the cave

He will, but not for awhile

It will be small one on one hangouts and dancing together on the boardwalk 

Walking in and out of shops, saying you’ll buy things but you never will

Sebastian will offer to pierce your ears and paint your nails 

Night swimming together! 

Sebastian definitely has really floral swim trunks, almost like tacky dad Hawaiian shirt print 

He’ll do the thing where he’s under water for a long time and then jump up and scare you

Once you meet the girls you’re all playing games together like sharks and minnows, chicken

Sebastian always wants to team up with you though. Even if teams aren’t a part of the game

He likes to read. He’ll spend a good amount of time at the bookstore on the boardwalk, staying there for hours reading books, and leaving with a whole stack

If YOU have a book he wants to read/borrow he will definitely maybe leave a little sticky note in it as a thank you

“thank you! ur sweet :D <3” 

Laura will love you!! 

She’s very close to Sebastian and everyone thinks they’re siblings, and they most definitely have the dynamic 

So if Laura likes you, Sebastian will definitely like you. I mean, he already does, Laura just kind of seals the deal, ya know?

Dominique and Pauline will be the most blunt about Sebastian’s feelings for you

“He’s like Darcy. Not necessarily the most obvious but you can tell” 

“It’s so obvious. He like, talks about you all the time when you aren’t around and he’s got this real love sick look in his eyes”

Dominique is going to interrogate you to see if you’re “worthy” or not of Sebastian. 

“Sebastian is my— our friend— like a brother almost. Hurt him and I will kill you :) that is a promise” 

Once she deems you good enough she’s going to push Seb into asking you out. “You guys already go on enough ‘dates’ just make it official” “no” “-_-“ “hhh fine”

Sebastian is going to be really simple with it but also kind of coy and shy. He’s nervous. He’s much rather you asked him out or confessed your feelings but he’s willing to go first. He finds himself trying to compete and keep up with the girls. He’s the only boy, and while it may not matter he doesn’t want to seem weak and pathetic while they’re big strong vampires

Anyway once he tells you how he feels he’s all red in the face and nervous!! Poor boy

He’ll constantly ask to kiss you all the time, worried maybe you don’t want him to but you’re always reassuring “yes, Seb. you can have a kiss” “thank you” 

[rodeoxqueen]

SMELLS LIKE QUARAN-NEROKIRI SPIRIT 

Nero/Kyrie

“In quarantine, Nero and Kyrie spend time together.” 

Rodeo’s Two Pieces: 

First time writing for Nero/Kyrie. Tread lightly with my take of their dynamic. 

(I)- Dalgona Coffee and Cookies. 

Despite how everything was shut down and the grocery was found vacant of basic necessities, Nero was grateful to at least be with someone he loved the most. 

“Look, we probably need some time off from kickin’ demon ass anyways,” Nico explained, smoking a cigarette during the video chat. 

“Yeah, not like demons care about being six feet away. People don’t even do that.” Nero looked at himself in the little square in the corner of his phone. Clad in a grey hoodie, he hadn’t even bothered putting on anything over his boxers. No one had come to visit since the mandate to stay inside, what was the point? 

Nico was in her garage again, from what he could see in the camera view. Cigarettes and old cups of coffee littered her desk, warbled country music playing off-view. 

“Who knows, maybe I’ll make something to fix that. I was thinking a mask-gun, rapid-fire reloading.” 

“Artisan of Arms, huh?” Nero laughed, getting up from his bed. 

“You fuckin’ bet. Now I gotta go. Got some things to weld.” 

“See ya, Nico. Stay safe, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He gave a peace sign before pressing “end video call.” 

The video chat ended and Nero tucked his phone into his pocket. Even banter just wasn’t the same virtually. 

“Who was that? Nico?” Nero made it down the hallway to see Kyrie, bustling about getting things from the cupboards. 

“Yeah, still building stuff as usual.” 

Kyrie had been in their apartment’s kitchen, deciding to try her hand at some recipes she saw online. A bag of flour, too many bowls, and more chocolate than Nero remembered buying, all laid out on the table. 

Just when he wanted something to eat, he’d have to wait or his girlfriend would practically make enough to feed an army and be surprised when he didn’t want anymore. 

He opted for a cup of water instead. 

Nero admired her hair, how it looked when it wasn’t in a ponytail, how it sat perfectly on her shoulders. Seeing how she started to measure some ingredients, he took the hair tie on his wrist, careful fingers bringing it into a low ponytail. 

“Oh, thank you.” She commented, opening her booklet of recipes she had handwritten. Neat, slanted cursive in a smattering of blue, red, and black read out recipes for cookies, cakes, and bread. 

“You look busy, planning to make all of those?” Nero rested his chin on her shoulder, shrouding her with warmth. 

“Well, I don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck at home, might as well try some recipes out. Maybe we can deliver some to the orphanage.” 

“That is if I don’t eat all your prototypes first.” She laughed, birdsong to Nero’s ears. 

“As long as you help me I don’t mind if you do.” Kyrie handed him a measuring cup. Nero sighed, taking it. He always lost count of how many cups of flour he was supposed to put in the bowl. 

A jar of porous dough caught his eye as he sifted some baking soda in his white mixture. He took it from Kyrie’s side of the island. 

“Whoa, what is this? A science experiment?” Kyrie chuckled, watching Nero scrutinize the date on the white tape to the top of the mason jar. 

“No, it’s a sourdough starter! It’s basically wild yeast. We can make bread with it since people bought out all the dry yeast in the grocery store.” 

Nero shook it with curiosity and then opened the silver lid, making an “eh” face at the smell. 

“It’s yeast alright.” 

Kyrie continued whipping up the sugar and butter mixture, Nero helping himself to a handful of chocolate chips. 

“Have you talked to your uncle and father? They must be staying at the shop in Redgrave.” 

Nero shrugged. 

“Most likely, I haven’t talked to them yet. Dante probably didn’t pay the phone bill and Vergil doesn’t know how to use the phone anyways.” 

“Let’s just hope they’re getting along during this time.” 

Nero thought back to all the “family outings” he had since his uncle and father returned from hell, mostly just jobs becoming contests of strength that turned to friendly family fights. Endless banter and elbowing. 

Honestly, compared to that, standing next to his girlfriend while they shaped cookies for the oven was heaven. 

Once the chocolate chip cookie dough was done baking, Kyrie insisted they make some whipped coffee while they cooled.  

“I thought you didn’t like coffee, Kyrie.” She stooped down to find something in the lower cabinets. A robotic hand that was colored dark blue and black, his old Devil Bringer, appeared with a tiny whisk duct-taped to it. 

“Yeah, but that TikTok made it look so good.” Nero handed her the glass container of instant coffee. 

Turning on the Devil Bringer, the tiny whisk spun to life, rapidly mixing sugar, coffee, and water together. With her back turned, Nero popped a thing of cookie dough in his mouth. 

“Honestly, Nico should have patented these Devil Bringers, make a bunch of money, and maybe she’d stop trying to rip me off all those times.” 

“Support local businesses, Nero.” 

He looked over her shoulder, surprised at how an abysmal brown mixture had become fluffy and thrice its previous volume. 

Two cups of milk poured, the practically instantly whipped coffee laid on top like a decadent Mount Everest next to a still-warm plate of cookies. 

“Cheers!” Kyrie clinked glasses with him, stirring her mug vigorously with a spoon. He copied her, taking a sip of surprisingly light and sweet coffee. 

When he lowered his cup, Nero both revealed to the world a mustache of whipped coffee. 

Kyrie snorted into her cup, covering her mouth as she bit back a laugh. Embarrassed, Nero went to wipe it off when Kyrie pecked him on the lips. She drew back to reveal an imprint of the ‘stache on her own upper lip. 

“We match now.” Kyrie giggled, helping herself to another gooey cookie. 

Half a plate of cookies and two mugs properly drained of its contents, Kyrie and Nero loaded up the dishwasher to do the work. 

“This is coffee, why am I tired?” Kyrie yawned. 

The couch was this god-awful IKEA purchase that took hours for Nero to just figure out what the instructions meant. But right now, it perfectly supported both of them while they slept away their food coma. 

(II)- Curl Up And Dye. 

After the second time the mandate got lengthened, Nero could sense that Kyrie was starting to wane in her ever-positive attitude. The news had nothing good to say, and the number of shows they had binged left them indifferent to watching anything more. 

They did a lot of singing during quarantine, Kyrie always being the musical one. Evanescence was one of their favorites to sing together, Nero’s guitar skills and Kyrie’s ability to hit those high notes left many memorable nights of laughter. 

After a while, Kyrie began to just sit on the couch a lot and have Nero pay her company. 

“What’s wrong?” Kyrie sighed heavily, curling into Nero’s hoodie as he opted to stay shirtless. 

“I don’t know Nero, it just feels like everything is the same. We go through the same things every day and I just feel...trapped.” 

Nero kissed the nape of her neck, humming in agreement. 

“Look, I’m usually the one going to you for stuff like this but...it will get better. It’s been a really hard time for all of us, and we’re just watching everything go downhill. It’s not a good situation but, you got me. Always. And there’s still a lot of things we can change up if that helps.” He stroked her hair and rubbed her back, feeling her take a deep breath. 

“You’re right Nero. That really did help. Thank you for listening.” 

“Of course.” 

While he scrolled on his own phone, he didn’t heed all the things Kyrie was watching. She touched her own long hair, seeing the way other people recorded their own home-salon trims. 

“Things to change, huh?” She mumbled. 

So here they were now. 

“It looks so bad!” Kyrie exclaimed, her face in her hands, hair on the bathroom sink. Nero shook his head. 

“No it’s not, Kyrie! You look fine, just let me fix it!” In the mirror, Nero cringed at the way her hair was ridiculously over-layered. 

“Um, what did you try to do-” 

“Curtain bangs! Oh Nero, I shouldn’t have tried to change up my hair!” Kyrie was thoroughly upset, seeing how her bout of bravery lead to her bangs being mauled by her own hands. 

Nero hugged her, noting that she had been wearing his shirt while she trimmed her hair. 

Okay that shirt’s gonna itch for a while until all the hair comes out. 

“It’s okay, let me see if I can fix it.” Kyrie blushed in the mirror, groaning at how bad her hair was cut. 

“There’s no way you could make it worse than what I did.” 

Nero gingerly took the scissors Kyrie put in the sink, a little bit too small for his hands but good enough. Although he was no stylist, he could tell where Kyrie had either cut too much off or unevenly. 

Eventually, they did manage to cut it in a way that hid the previous mistakes. Kyrie took another deep breath. 

“I shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” She murmured, arms crossed. 

Nero chuckled at her rare emotional outburst. He was glad to have been able to be there for her. She always hid how she felt, helping others her way of expressing herself. Now with no one around but him, he totally understood that she felt helpless. 

No one liked being helpless. 

He kissed her cheek and a lightbulb went off in his head. 

“You wanna dye my hair?” Kyrie turned around in surprise. 

“What?” 

“I mean, who knows how long this shutdown is gonna be, it’ll be fun,” Kyrie noted how Nero had forgone shaving, his peach fuzz becoming something more. 

Honest blue eyes peered at her, wondering what she would think. Her surprise softened to a sort of relief in their solidarity. 

“What color, Nero?” 

“Neon green-” 

“Nico’s going to make fun of you.” Kyrie giggled. Nero shrugged nonchalantly. 

“I don’t mind it.” 

(III)- Can’t Get Out Of It, Get Into It. 

“Nero, you look so fucking ridiculous.” 

“Shut up, Dante.” 

His uncle finally managed to figure out how to work the virtual chat on his fossil of a computer, and Nero was already prepared to end the call. 

His father sat slightly off-camera, not in the mood to entertain Dante’s antics to ridicule his son. Although, he did look oddly radioactive with his washed-out green hair and strong quarter-past five o’clock shadow.  

“Quarantine did not do you a favor, good lord,” Dante commented, kicking his feet up on his desk. Nero flipped him off. 

“Good to know you’re still living in shambles, not surprised neither of you cleaned up after yourselves.” The number of bottles on the floor was a travesty and the couch littered with poetry books Vergil had slowly begun to hoard. 

Nico entered the zoom call, smoking another cigarette Nero was lucky to not have to smell. 

“Nice broccoli head.” 

Nero flipped her off as well. Kyrie came into view, smiling at her boyfriend’s family and their shared friends. Nero decided to get a drink, clicking a few buttons before letting Kyrie have the seat. 

As they discussed how the business would continue with Devil May Cry, Kyrie sat next to Nero. 

It was mainly business, until it got to a certain line that Dante said. 

“I don’t know, it just feels like things are just going to keep staying like this. Hate to break it to you Nero, but it’s going to be tough for a while.” 

Kyrie finally heard enough, scooching Nero aside so she could talk. 

“Kyrie, wait-” 

“We’re going to get past this. As long as humanity still keeps coming together for the sake of benefiting each other, and we keep working to make sure to keep safe, we will get past this. We just have to keep hoping, and sure, hoping isn’t always going to make you feel better. I would know. But in a time where we do feel helpless, we should connect with other people in a different way. That’s why we succeed, we keep moving, we keep adapting! And hope, hope keeps that going.” 

Kyrie took a long breath. Looking at the dumbfounded group, she waited for a response. 

“Um, Kyrie. You were muted.” Nero finally said. Kyrie realized her blunder and how Nero’s hand was attempting to unmute them. 

“Oh.” Kyrie flushed, looking embarrassed. 

“I have no idea what you just said, but that’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry, that was so awkward.” 

“Don’t worry yourself, Kyrie. I bet it was real sweet whatever you had to say,” Nico assured. 

The zoom call was full of laughter since, a business call turned to a time to discuss how each person was doing. 

Dante and Vergil had spent days and nights sparring, Vergil learning more about humanity from Dante, and “making their own pizzas.” 

Nico had continued welding and making weapons for her own curiosity rather than based off of commission-based instructions. The van finally had the vinyl player fixed and she apparently gave herself a stick-and-poke. 

“So what did you two love birds do?” Nico asked, lighting another cancer stick. 

Nero and Kyrie looked at each other, smiling at their shared memories of this strange period in human history. 

“Where do we even start?”  Kyrie said, thinking of all the days and nights that seemed to breeze by and also slowly progress. 

Nero ruffled his longer messy green hair, Kyrie tucking her curtain bangs behind her ear. As they were two peas in the pod, Nero had decided to get another set of gray sweats for Kyrie, matching finally. 

Kyrie bit into a cookie, offering Nero some. 

“Smells like quarantine spirit, huh?” Dante finger-gunned.

Nero chuckled. 

“Hell yeah.” 

[catboyshinsou]

it doesn’t have to be 18+ but i keep thinking of like,,, singer/performer y/n x keigo ??? like he goes to a performance and gets flustered or soth over the lyrics or the choreo,,,, thank you <3333

Eyes don't lie

pairing: Hawks x gn! performer reader

warnings: none rlly ? choking mention maybe

summary: hawks is assigned as security guard at an upcoming artists show

a/n: sorry it took so long :P also i hope this is okay for u even if i drifted from the request a bit <3

In a world full of quirks, heroes act as celebrities and law enforcement. There wasn't one country or place you could go where people didn't adore heroes, even in the tiniest villages you could find one or the other All Might or Endeavour fan lurking around the streets.

You yourself weren't a fan of heroism. You could appreciate the ones that dedicated their life to it, whether it be as a part of hero society or a mere fan but the streets just weren't your terrain to play on.

Yet you loved the spotlight, being admired and making people smile. Being on the big stage and having a stadium chant your songs with you while your dancers and band hyped everyone up. That was what you'd craved all your life.

It was the first time in a while since you performed in Japan. You tried to visit home as often as possible and give it the best performances even if your management wanted to focus on your breakthrough in the west. It wasn't like you didn't have a big enough fan base in the west to not sell tickets but somehow your management wanted to make you a real deal, even though you did this for fun not fame.

“KYUSHUUUUU! HOW ARE WE TONIGHT?!”

After your band played the opening of your intro song, you stepped on stage with confetti flying through the arena. The crowd cheered at your appearance while also humming along to the melody. You adjusted your outfit, pulling on the places that had moved from their original position while getting ready to start the night.

It wasn't unusual for heroes to be recruited as security forces in public events. Especially with the League of Villains on the rise and using public spaces to intimidate people, the commission was extra careful on the streets.

Hawks, currently number 3 hero on the Japanese Hero Billboards, sat in the security booth with his feet kicked up and a soda can in his hand. The venue was his patrol territory, it was close to his agency and had the best layout for him to keep an eye on everyone.

Though he didn't do this on his own accord. Concerts were worse to watch over for him, the music and constant movement made it hard for him to actually listen to potential threats. His feathers sensed everything, even giving him a light headache from having to process everything but still stay alert enough to react as fast as possible.

“I know I haven't been… too present in Japan the last few months…” You walked around the stage, waving and winking at the front rows as your stage crew changed the setups. The spotlight only showed you, everything else in darkness except for some flashlights in the crowd and light sticks that weren't yours, blinking in a colourful pattern. You weren't sure if it was trying one's best to support or mockery but either way you appreciated the effort.

The crowd booed in response to your comment on your almost year abroad, all in a lighthearted manner of course but your tummy couldn't help but turn. Especially at this next number which was again, not entirely your idea but part of the plan of breaking through in the west. At least they gave you the opportunity to choose the song.

Hawks watched you intently, cocking an eyebrow at your trembles and tight grasp around the mic. There was a bunch of his feathers placed around the stage area to keep you as safe as he could and the one that you had around your neck was the loudest of them all.

Of course nobody in the audience noticed your nervousness, it took a trained eye to look through the cover of a pop star but your elevated heart wasn't from your performance and the shaking in your hands most definitely not from you being tired. He looked into the crowd.

Was there anyone suspicious he had missed? No that couldn't be. Him and 3 of his sidekicks were watching over this place, there couldn't be any type of danger around. Maybe it was something personal? An ex maybe? Would that pose a threat to you or the crowd?

Hawks’ thoughts were cut off by a synth or some type of organ playing two chords and the lights getting brighter on stage. This hadn't been part of the rehearsal in the morning, was this the reason you trembled so much? A new song?

The crowd went quiet as you positioned yourself in the middle of the stage, mic clipped into the stand and your foot tapping to keep you on beat. When touring through England especially, you had heard this song up and down on the bus you used whenever you travelled in the country.

The simplicity of the progression that pulled through the song, the adding of instruments as a way to build up for the high of the song to then slowly dropping instruments until it came back down to the organ and guitar as it was in the beginning…. Something about it had just struck you and you were more than glad to perform this in your own rendition in your home. Yet you couldn't keep focus on what was happening.

Come on, breathe, y/n you've practiced and it will be okay… Your inner monologue went wild as the synth waited for you to finally start the song. The crowd became restless at the tension you'd built up with seemingly no resolve, you felt more judgment on you than normal.

Your eyes searched for something to ground yourself with, like you used to when you were a rookie. Anything or anyone to look at while you performed to keep your nerves from getting the best of you.

Then your eyes met those of the pro hero assigned to security this time. Hawks’ yellow eyes sparkled as he winked at you with a smirk. His arms rested on the railing of the security lounge, laying over each other and hiding most of his face. The red wings poked through from behind him and you could see that he took off his signature feathered jacket. You took a deep breath before intently looking him in the eyes.

“I'm going back to 505… If it's a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive…” Your hands grabbed the mic and the stand as you swayed to the beat, lulling the crowd to do the same and take out their lights. There were quiet screeches from a few people who seemed to know the song. But you didn't let them disturb your new found focus or let them stop your new found anchor look.

“In my imagination, you're waiting lying on your side… With your hands between your thighs…” The guitar kicked in. Your hands left the mic and you stretched them into the air to get rid of their stiffness. The confidence of the first song came back to your core, no trace of nerves found in any of your movements.

The pro hero lazily stared at you after your first eye contact, relaxing as the feather around your neck got quieter. He raised his eyebrows at that last line, even if he knew that it probably wasn't at all intended for him. Your not breaking eye contact suggested something else but he wouldn't fall for the invitations of a worldwide known pop star. He was more than just smarter than that.

“Stop and wait a sec…” You stretched out your hands towards the security manager and tilted your head as you sang the next words. You had loosened up quite a bit as the instruments joined for the first verse. “When you look at me like that my darling, what did you expect?”

The hand slowly came back towards you and softly grabbed your neck before smoothly rolling into a cheek hold. “I'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck… Or I did last time I checked…”

Pro hero Hawks had been trained to be a hero longer than he could remember. His training included quirk enhancement, multiple language studies and espionage training which had also taught him to stay cool in every situation.

Yet his cheeks flushed red and he rose from his slouched posture as your pointed at him and almost seductively grabbed your neck, all while not breaking your eye contact with him. He cleared his throat multiple times and averted his eyes whenever it became too much for him. Hawks couldn't be charmed by such simple actions. That's what he told himself anyways.

Having regained your confidence after fearing that your audience would be disappointed, you closed your eyes and went through the rest of the song in the lower register of your voice. It was nice to perform something like this between your usual set. It almost cleansed a palette like coffee beans after entering a perfume shop.

But then the bridge hit. The kick drum and snares were hit in unison before a quick second of silence fell, your hands flinging towards the mic and you opening your eyes on beat. “BUT I CRUMBLE COMPLETELY WHEN YOU CRY. IT SEEMS LIKE ONE AGAIN YOU’VE HAD TO GREET ME WITH GOODBYE”

You opened your lungs and let out the higher notes, almost screaming them out as your eyes looked at Hawks again. The instruments filled the room completely, screaming in their own way but also complementing each other.

Like a wave, Hawks was hit with your passionate voice singing him those words as if they had been only written for him. His embarrassment to be addressed in such a manner switched to curiosity and excitement. He tipped one of his sidekicks on the shoulder.

“Make sure we act as security on their next performance in Japan too.”

“But Hawks, we aren't a security agency-”

“Oh yeah? Well for them we are, I want to be part of the security team for every japanese performance to come.”

In a stern but gentle voice, Hawks commanded him to find your manager to arrange future collaborations. His flushed cheeks reappeared when you finished the song and just stood there, eyes closed and sweat glistening on your face as you breathed out the last emotions of the song. Something about you looked, ethereal. Was that the right word for it? He didn't know, but it felt right in any way .

[nobody-knose--archive]

finally got around to listening to sketches 3d today and man! man! oh boy! liveblog under the cut!

-piano. exactly what i was expecting

-vibrato huh

-ayyy that's some. funky percussion

-this is like the fullerenes or something. a song about an Interesting Lady

-and there's that one grainy string synth/sample that andrew uses a lot & also appears in hawaii part ii

-more percussion. this is so cool

-i wasn't expecting this to be quite so minor key

-man if that was courtney on the flute there i think that'd be sick

-sing it andrew!

-i'm already having a more cheery time than i did with nat

-zubin???

-i will absolutely have to review that voice

-wait what the fuck is happening to her

-darling you good?

-anyway. classic andrew horowitz funky out-of-tune synths

-rattle rattle

-more out of tune piano. what song is this

-oh shit!!! this is the song my friends like

-tambourine <3

-you & me? sides of a coin? good & evil?

-so weird hearing all these lyrics i've seen in the song channel sung aloud for real

-andrew is doing some good singing here. he's good at carrying the melody on his own even though i've not heard much of that from him in the past save fate of the stars maybe

-he's always been good at that percussion

-all different types of percussion. tinny little gong like it's the whole world & you acoustic

-tambourine <3 <3

-so incredibly weird knowing what the lyrics are going to be without knowing what the song sounds like. i know how these words go in order but don't know how the melody carries them

-interesting thing about sketches so far. it's very strong & powerful but it doesn't block out the world like other new songs will. i'm not being taken somewhere else it's more like the whole rest of the world is being highlighted

-alright what's next?

-7/4 hummingbird????? or is this 6/4???

-no no no it's 5/4 and doing funky things with the onbeat i love this

-asking questions to a little creature is the best kind of pasttime and i mean that

-man andrew mixed this really well he's just. incredible at that

-he's making each song distnict while also giving sketches a clear theme

-a minor turn. i like that

-now what could this be?

-not lemons & pears yet?

-daisy fingers hell yes

-another song about a lady

-spoke mostly harmony oh you clever man

-thank you andrew for doing more with time signatures than tally hall ever did. first 5/4 and now 6/8

-the combination of very out of tune & rough percussions and incredibly beep bloopy synths is so cool

-conversations with a lady. this feels like a story of andrew visiting another world and being like "might as well write some songs about the fellows and stories round here"

-the whole album, i mean

-i am inspired by you, andrew

-this whole album is everything i could've hoped for and more

-the interesting thing about it is how few questions i find myself asking. i'm just looking at this stuff i have and being like wow! &, cool! not what i usually do with new albums

-divine inspiration bay be

-that's like. the opposite of an 80s fadeout

-oh that is absolutely the little sfx from the beginning of perfect at the end

-wait speaking of at the end

-no this is have a nice day interludinal

-is this a polyrhythm? there's a 4/4 type thing in the background and the foreground is. not on the onbeat i can say that much

-man i am going to have a nice day

-he's a good musician, able to make so much music out of a single interval

-lemons & pears!!!!

-toy orchestra my beloved that's the fuckin toy piano bay be wooooo

-but man oh boy does this sound absolutely different with only a one single guy singing

-ukulele in the bg? toy orchestra <3

-interesting being able to actually hear like. all of the lyrics for real

-some of the little riffs are gone and there are quite a many more

-hello?

-oh okay

-yeah i heard about the fucking gunshots that doesn't mean i was prepared for them

-the chorus sounds so nice i love this

-guest vocals?????????? whomst????????????

-who is this lady i'm so curious is she from the old toy orchestra? that'd be amazing

-breakdown time and it sounds so similar to the toy orchestra one. man

-at the end is. not the end of the album

-i think the thing that's getting me and not prompting as many questions is the fact that like. i hear these songs and hear tally hall songs. andrew's singing & i could hear this on a tally hall album with ease. it's strange

-i think the hi-hat and other little bits in this song, for example, reminds me of ross

-andrew's always tried hard at rock, and percussion is a massive part of that-wait he's scat singing i can finish that thought later i love this

-his songs are also very easy to sing along to without meaning to. first time hearing them and here i go

-anyway percussion is a massive part of rock, andy's always had an affinity for percussion, i think that's what's making me think of tally hall so much, or at least be. comfortably experiencing this in the same way i would a tally hall album

-i can't say the same of hawaii part ii

-if there's anywhere that lists the credits somewhere i'd like to see if ross worked on this at all but. i'm pretty sure he didn't

-where am i-oh shit a crowd

-nowhere else this is a song i think i know nothing about

-all that shit i was saying about rock percussion and now there's a whole entire drumkit going here

-alrighty

-that is not only andrew singing! again! who are you

-.....casey shea?????

-you sound like casey shea sir??????

-you are either casey shea or someone else who sounds like a beatle (affectionate, instead of derogatory)

-good guitar shit

-is that a third voice or does andrew just sound like that?

-madi diaz???

-i'm probably just guessing her because of the rendezvous but. there's gotta be someone more

-a whole lot of love going on here and i do appreciate it

-is it 80's fadeout time now? hell yeah

-oh yes the rainbow connection! a cover and the final song of the album (not counting the bonus tracks, which i will be listening to)

-i think i may have heard this before? or at least the minor rendition

-stylophone?

-humming. classic move

-theremin??

-music box is also cool. i swear i won't just be commentating on the instrumence alright

-what on earth is this sample in the background. steadily getting louder

-man andrew is a great singer. the consistent double vocals/heavy vibrato suits him well

-i will assume these are samples from like. the muppets movie

-does sketches (3d or otherwise) have a pdf like hwptii & nat? i sure hope so because i will enjoy looking at it

-vocalizing again let's a go

-more gong wahoo

-bonus track time <3

-tomorrow & today is a song i know pretty damn well i hope he's more legible now

-mostly the same as the 2011 version but it certainly is updated i can tell. more echo on these beginning lines

-piano is stronger. there may or may not be some added flairs. not a whole lot blatantly changed but i can say. i'll remove the 2011 version and replace it with this one for charlie

-there's a riff in my right ear that i don't remember and i like it

-this bit right here is more legible in general thank god it was incomprehensible originally

-the stomping percussion is Goin places

-and to end the whole song- you know yesterday fueled by a listen of nat i came up with an abundance of thoughts on writing styles in tally hall and especially how andrew's songs go places and what the journey's like and while that essay really won't fit into this liveblog i really enjoy how tomorrow & today has no destination in mind and it's a gradual trip but you never look back

-such strong g&e vibes

-misfortune bay be! time to replace the other misfortune charlie has with this

-sheet music???? jenny where did you find this? [referring to the image used in the video she uploaded i listened to] also this is still not the whole song i know the original misfortune wasn't but it feels strange to start this far into the song

-chords my beloved i could fucking play this song i'm so hyped about that

-toy orchestra solid soda real <3

-the one and only studio recording toy orchestra did. this is some of the best evidence for steve gallagher's voice we have

-also the audio is higher quality than the yt upload i think

-oh a casio organ not a real organ. okay i can't complain

-i like the sound of the piano at least. also this is horrendously gorey i like it

-andrew horowitz horror writer extraordinaire

-these sound like the sorts of drum synths my electric organ has

-i actually can't tell if that one's a guest vocal or andrew just being a very very good singer

-this sounds like some sort of recording you'd take of your kid's music school performance

-oh it's over

-fuck that was good

[mattzerella-sticks]

Caught (a 9-1-1 fic post-s3 finale)

Photobooths are prime for catching special moments and making them last forever, even if they are less both and more open spaces with a backdrop. When Athena, Bobby, and Michael stumble upon one such moment between Buck and Eddie, what will they do?

And how will it affect Maddie and Chimney?

T, 3.7k, Athena/Bobby, Buck/Eddie, Maddie/Chimney

           Athena finds operating a laptop with only one hand maddening. Typing up an e-mail takes double the time, she needs breaks when shopping online, and scrolling through social media becomes dangerous when she accidentally likes pictures she didn’t mean to. If she had her choice, Athena would be on her phone. But the hired photographer from May’s party e-mailed the pictures from the photo booth, both Bobby and Michael nearby when her phone pinged. Instead of having her husband and ex-husband crowded at her shoulders, Athena pokes her password into the given space while the men gather snacks. When she finally has the first picture loaded, Bobby places the bowl of popcorn by her sling and Michael hands off a soda.

           “I think we’ve never looked better Bobby,” Michael laughs, pointing at the screen.

           Athena snickers into her drink, studying the picture. Bobby’s jaw dropped in a faux yell; guitar hugged tightly against his chest. Fingers hooked as if he were playing something. Michael’s expression mirrored his except the tinsel wig on his head making it immensely funnier. “Don’t you be trying to steal my man from me, Michael,” she warns, attempting severity, “You already got a doctor eating out of your hand.”

           “Okay you two,” Bobby settles his arm across Athena’s chair, chuckling, “we’ll never get through these if you two are bickering. Athena, click onto the next picture?”

           They kill the next half-hour like that, pausing every so often to laugh at a few pictures. Like Maddie with May, the two women back-to-back and imitating an old spy poster. Or Chimney and Hen battling with the inflatable guitars like they were axes. Although not every picture was funny. Michael and Athena thought May and her boyfriend gravitated closer than necessary for a simple photo. And Athena needed a moment, collecting herself from the sheer adorableness of Buck and Christopher’s faces pressed cheek-to-cheek.

           The next few pictures included Buck as well, except Christopher’s father joined in the fun in his son’s place. Eddie sipping a drink while Buck played the guitar. Him raising a leg mid-kick while Buck locked eyes with the camera. Smoking on a corncob pipe as Buck runs wild behind him. Flexing, playing the guitar, and jumping. One picture had half of his face cut off.

           Buck must have landed closer, because Athena clicked on and they occupied the same breadth of space. Eddie, non-plussed, while the younger man messed with him. Grinning, swinging beads in his face. Then wincing when it struck the soft spot between his brows. Brushing gently over his nose in a cursory inspection, too close. Followed by –

           “Oh, my,” Athena gasped, hand over her mouth. She felt Bobby tense at her side and Michel mutter a curse under breath.

           The photographer, with perfect timing, captured the briefest of pecks. Buck’s lips on Eddie’s, both puckered. Expectant. None of them can decipher who initiated the embrace. Only that it happened and there was no mistaking the intention

           “Well I’ll be damned,” Michael says, “this is…”

           Athena glances at her husband, “Did you know about this?”

           Bobby shakes out of his stupor, turning to her. “No, I… I had no idea,” he says, “I mean, they’re close but I always thought it was more like… brothers?”

           Michael snorts, drawing Athena’s attention. “Do you have anything to add?”

           His mouth thins, and he inches back. “No, I’m as shocked as you both are… A little intrigued… and embarrassed I didn’t notice those boys swung on my team before… But shock is at the forefront.”

           She sighs, sagging in her seat. Her finger scrolls onto the next arrow except she cannot continue. Athena finds herself staring at the picture again. “What should we do?”

           Bobby hums and squeezes her shoulder. “We can pretend this didn’t happen and let them come to us in their own time?” He nods at the screen, “For the first month at least. If they don’t say something past then, I will have to bring it up anyway seeing as fraternization between coworkers requires tons of paperwork.”

           “Okay, then I guess we keep this to ourselves until they own up on their own,” she says, moving on, “or you need evidence if they try and deny it altogether.”

           “Always thinking like a cop,” Michael laughs, nudging her, “you’ll be back on the streets soon enough.”

           “We’ll see.” She finally clicks onto the next picture, another Eddie and Buck. More bashful and with ruddy cheeks. If there were any confusion about the prior scene, this added the final layer of context. “They do make an adorable couple.”

           “And a hot couple…”

           Athena elbows Michael with her good arm, scowling. “Hush up. Think about your doctor.”

           The mood returns, not at the same level it was before the discovery but there the same. They finish viewing the album and then spend more time dividing it. Creating folders for their friends and family so they can have their pictures. Athena finds the kissing scene again and immediately puts it, and the accompanying aftermath shot, in its own folder. She forgets it when they start compressing the files for ease of sending.

           Unfortunately, when attaching Buck’s pictures to the e-mail, his zip file contains two folders.

                                      -----------------------------------------

           Buck find Eddie in the kitchen, pouring milk into two bowls of cereal. His heart skips a beat at the scene of pure domesticity. The way sunlight streams through the thin curtains and makes Eddie glow in its beams. Makes him look more irresistible than he already is. He tugs his shirt down over his chest and walks over, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s chest. “Breakfast? Really?”

           “What – not a fan of Fruit Loops?”

           “I love Fruit Loops,” Buck chuckles, kissing at the bruise on Eddie’s neck he made earlier. “But I don’t know if three o’clock is the perfect time for them.” Still, he takes the bowl from off the counter and opens a nearby drawer.

           Eddie grabs spoons for them both. “Breakfast isn’t a meal… it’s a state of mind. It’s the first thing you eat when you get out of bed. And since we haven’t left the bed since now…”

           “We could’ve left earlier,” Buck reminds him, “If you weren’t so damn horny.”

           “I wasn’t the one practically crying for dick in my ass –“

           “Hey, hey!” Buck cuts him off, cheeks burning hotter the longer Eddie laughs. “I wasn’t crying, I was… heavily suggesting.”

           “Sure…”

           He scowls, sticking his spoon in Eddie’s bowl and stealing a bite. “If you didn’t want a second round, all you had to do was say so. But don’t go complaining because I was making sure you were having a great time while Christopher’s at camp.”

           “Oh, no,” Eddie shakes his head, grimacing, “please don’t quote my son’s card while we’re talking about sex.”

           “You started it,” Buck smirks, pointing with his spoon. “Your fault if you can’t handle the heat.”

           Eddie shoves at him, jostling the milk and spilling some onto his shirt. A soggy Fruit Loop dove from his bowl and landed on his foot, near his big toe. Buck retaliates with a push of his own, although Eddie catches his wrist and drags him into a kiss that makes him forget about the milk stain, dropped Fruit Loop, and Eddie’s teasing.

           They break for air, foreheads pressed against each other. “We should really be eating.”

           “Yeah.”

           It’s another five minutes standing there. Balancing bowls of cereal and trading kisses. When they finish, Eddie guides Buck into the living room. They cuddle on the sofa, Buck crossing his legs under him and flicking the television on. Flipping through channels until he finds a cartoon he likes. Halfway through the SpongeBob episode, he feels a heavy stare. Buck turns, cheeks stuffed with cereal, to find Eddie watching with a small grin. “What?”

           “Maybe I should have sent you to camp alongside Chris,” Eddie says, “that way you could have had fun with all the other kids.”

           He swallows, glaring. “Shut up…” Eddie leans forward and brushes his lips across Buck’s cheeks, halting any further protest. Unwilling to let Eddie win, however, Buck redirects his attention elsewhere. Namely his blinking cell phone, resting on the coffee table since last night. Buck must have forgotten it sometime between Eddie kissing him and Eddie carrying him out with Buck’s legs around Eddie’s waist.

           Buck opens it, wincing at the number of messages.

           Eddie peers over his shoulder, spoon in his mouth. “Popular?”

           “Something like that…” He scrolls through the notifications. At the tagged pictures on Instagram and the missed calls, choosing his texts first. Sees five from Chimney asking about where his is and if he can come over. Then twenty from Maddie progressively growing angrier the longer Buck didn’t respond. Buck types back on the last message. Answers her ‘Buck I am not kidding you better answer me asap we need to talk’ sent at one-twenty-three with a ‘Sorry b there soon’ at three-thirteen. “I gotta go to Maddie’s…”

           “What for?”

           Buck scans through the texts again, shrugging. “Doesn’t say. But it must be important if both her and Chim were on my case.”

           Eddie knocks shoulders with Buck. “Want me to tag along?”

           “I’d appreciate it,” Buck tells him, “but if we’re supposed to keep this low-profile, I doubt showing up together will help.”

           “But we always show up together,” he argues.

           “Not after having fantastic sex.”

           “You’re right,” Eddie concedes, thoughtful expression transforming into one more devious. His fingers tickle Buck’s thigh before he squeezes Buck’s cock. “I’d rather show up after mind-blowing sex.”

           “Eddie, you’re killing me,” Buck whines, “I’m too tired.” Except he lays his bowl on the table alongside Eddie’s and happily relaxes onto the couch. Lying underneath the other man while he licks at his collar bone. Buck giggles while his friend’s stubble rubs against his skin. Absentmindedly Buck looks at his phone, scrolling through more apps. He opens his e-mail and sees the message from Athena labelled: ‘May’s Graduation Party Photos’. “Hey Eddie, the photos from May’s party are here.”

           “What?” Eddie asks, rising momentarily for air.

           “Pictures!”

           “Another time, Bucky…” he presses a sloppy kiss at his jaw, smirking. Toying with Buck’s shirt. “Be with me now.”

           “Let me take a quick look.” Buck ignores Eddie’s pleading, opening it. Downloads the file and clicks the icon, switching apps. He opens the first folder, a photo of Buck and Maddie greeting him. “Oh, these came out nicely…”

           Eddie continues dropping kisses on different points of his body while Buck scrolls through each picture. “Really, Buck,” he gasps after sucking a mark onto Buck’s hip. A feat that usually leaves him panting, sweaty, and writhing in Eddie’s embrace. “Can’t this wait? Feeling unappreciated…”

           Buck threads his hand through Eddie’s hair, patting it. “Almost done,” he tells Eddie, “There’s another file here… looks like it’s only two –“ He cuts off, eyes widening.

           Startled, Eddie raises a brow at him. “Buck? You okay?” Nothing. Eddie crawls up and forces Buck’s gaze away from the phone and towards him, tilting at his jaw. “Speak to me. What is it?”

           He cannot speak. So he shows Eddie his phone, watching the blown pupils retract as the mood shifts.

           It’s a photo from the party, one they hadn’t realized was captured. Their first kiss. When Buck was so overwhelmed with happiness and warmth and, staring at Eddie, crossed the divide without thought. A quick peck that left them stuttering and blushing and unsure where they stood. Buck ran away, not waiting for Eddie. Moving until the other man dragged him into an empty room to explain himself.

           Buck had nothing. No reason why he kissed Eddie except that it felt right. Which he proved by pressing him against the wall and kissing him again. Eddie answered in kind, flipping him around and hauling his leg up. Thumb brushing his kneecap.

           They broke, muted sounds of the party filtered through the door. Eddie cleared his throat, “We still need to talk about this.”

           “Definitely…”

           Both men said their goodbyes, five minutes after the other. Promises that when Christopher left for camp, they would restart their conversation. Eddie drove straight over, card still in hand when he knocked on Buck’s door.

           Buck hung it on the fridge before they tripped up the stairs in hurried excitement, shedding clothes and tumbling on the bed.

           Talking came after the sex.

           “What do you think it means?” Buck asks, “Why would Athena send this?”

           Eddie shrugs, mouth flapping worriedly. “I don’t know,” he finally says, “Maybe she… maybe she sent without looking?”

           Buck rolls his eyes. “Karen and Hen had their photos taken but I don’t have any of theirs. She definitely saw this.” His mind works double time, connecting loose threads into a makeshift sweater. “Wait,” he says, pushing Eddie off him and onto his knees. “Wait, hold on… do you think this is what those texts were about?”

           “Texts? What texts?”

           “Chim and Maddie,” he reminds Eddie, “the urgent texts that – that didn’t mention what made them so damn urgent. Do you think… Athena sent this photo to them, too? To Hen? Everybody?”

           Eddie sighs and runs his hands up and down Buck’s shoulders, added warmth like a candle fighting an iceberg. “Athena wouldn’t do that,” he says, “I’m sure this was nothing. Maybe even a… a simple way of letting us know she knows and she supports us?”

           “Still…”

           As if seeing the smoke billowing out his ears, Eddie stands and offers a hand. “Come on.” Buck squints up at him, curious. “You think Maddie and Chimney know about us. You won’t know by sitting here spinning out. When we get there, we can see what they have to say.”

           Buck fights his smile, but a tiny smirk still appears. “We?” he asks.

           “Yes, we,” Eddie tells him, “So let’s move. I think I have a shirt that’ll fit, but it might be a little short?”

           “What about my clothes from yesterday?”

           “Please,” Eddie matches his smirk, “we’re not sure if they know about us. Why make it obvious by doing that.” Most of the tension from moments ago disappears with their laughter, Eddie ridding him of the rest by hauling Buck into a tender kiss. “Hurry,” he whispers, “because if we stay here any longer, I won’t want to leave the house until tomorrow.”

           “Tempting…” Buck pushes off, smiling. “Very tempting, but I already promised Maddie. She’s mad enough at me as it is.” Eddie tries catching his wrist one more time but Buck, aware of this trick, dodges at the last second and bounces off. The other man chases with great speed.

           The playfulness helps distract Buck from the impending appointment with his sister and their friend. And leaves him grateful that he and Eddie crossed over in their relationship, onto the next level. Into what it was always meant to be, what it kept building towards over the years. Abby’s return the final push giving Buck the clarity he needed in understanding his feelings.

           When the hurt finally stopped, the loneliness he expected to follow didn’t. Because Buck had his sister. The one-eighteen. Christopher and Eddie.

           Especially Eddie. Especially when his lips tickle his neck, and delays them further.

                                     -----------------------------------------

           Maddie paces the floor, chewing on a bite of pickle. “What’s taking him so long?” she asks Chimney, her boyfriend watching from a nearby couch. “I swear, if he isn’t in this room in the next five minutes…”

           Chimney stands, walking towards her. “I’m sure he has his reasons,” he tells her, “he didn’t answer his phone until – what? Three? Maybe he was busy.”

           “Too busy to answer a text?” She pokes his chest, huffing. “Too busy to get his ass over here and learn that he’s about to be an uncle?”

           “Well, you didn’t tell him he was going to be an uncle in the text so he probably didn’t think it was that urgent.”

           She glares, readying another onslaught. Luckily for Chimney they hear the buzzer for his apartment ring. Maddie shoves the rest of the pickle in her mouth, nodding at the door. “Let them in and bring them into the dining room.”

           “Anything else, my queen?”

           Maddie ignores him, setting at the table with her hands folded. Listens while Chimney speaks into the intercom and lets Buck up. In the minutes between that and Buck arriving, she thinks. About what it felt like seeing both plus signs appear on the pregnancy tests and the cocktail of emotions erupting within like a volcano. Happiness and excitement, but also fear. Worry over whether she was ready, or if she would be a good parent. Memories of her own childhood flooded and distracted Maddie until she broke free from their chains and realized Chimney spoke to her in the living room.

           He tried, but in the days that followed Maddie’s party her nerves only shredded further. She needed her brother. And when Maddie mustered the strength and reached out, he kept her waiting.

           Anger won out when she laid eyes on him, incised further when she notices Eddie. “Is that why you weren’t answering me? Too busy ‘hanging out’?” The exaggerated quotes make Buck flinch in a way he hadn’t in years. Not since he was a little kid. And she finds herself back in Hershey once more. And Maddie’s doubt in her skill doubles.

           “Sorry Maddie,” he says, stepping into the dining room, “time just got away from us and… we came as fast as we could?”

           She glances between them, both men with reticent expressions. As quickly as it arrived, the fire inside fizzled into embers. “I’m sorry,” she says, kneading at her temple, “I’ve just been… a little stressed.”

           “Stressed, why?”

           Chimney answers, “Because of recent developments. Recent developments that we wanted to speak to you about.” He glances at Eddie, frowning. “Eddie…”

           Eddie points at the living room, shrugging. “I can wait in there while you talk –“

           “No,” Maddie stops him, “no you can join.” She looks at Chimney, smiling. “I don’t see why he shouldn’t be here, right?”

           “I guess.”

           Buck and Eddie share a cryptid look, slowly sitting across from Maddie and Chimney. Her brother fidgets, tugging on his fingers in the nervous way he would when mom or dad lectured him after landing in trouble. Although why he did it now, Maddie was unsure of. She reached across and grabbed his hand, waiting for when their eyes met to speak. “There’s something we need to tell you.”

           His brows scrunch up, “Yeah… I get that.”

           “It’s about,” Maddie searches for an entry point, unsure where she should start. “Well… you know at May’s party?” He tenses in his seat. “How we left a little early? That’s because Chimney noticed something and I – I put things together, and we had to go –“

           “Maddie I can explain –“

           “Because all these signs added up and,” Maddie stops, blinking. She pulls away from Buck, “What?”            Buck stares at the table, shoulders hunched high. “Look, I was going to tell you but, well, we know what would’ve happened if this came out so soon after Abby showed up. And the party was the worst place if we wanted to keep this secret, I didn’t mean for it to happen there it just did! We thought it was better to take it at our own pace and – and let people in when we were ready, y’know?”

           “Slow down Evan,” Maddie grabs his hands again. Squeezes until he gives her the floor. “What are you talking about?”

           He pouts. “I was… you brought me here because you and Chimney saw us, right? At the photo booth?”

           “No,” she says, “I wanted you here because I found out I’m pregnant.” Buck chokes, seizing under her grip. “But what are you talking about? Us? You and who else… and why should it involve Abby?”

           “You’re pregnant?” he asks, eyes glistening with unshed tears. Buck tries closing his mouth but he cannot force his jaw shut. “I’m… I’m gonna be an uncle?”

           “Yes, Buck, you are,” Chimney adds, leaning over the table. “But can we go back? What happened at the photo booth?”

           Maddie studies her brother slowly shed his shock. Replaced with cheeks redder than his birthmark, failing at subtlety when glancing at Eddie. Eddie hides his face, Maddie imagining it in a similar state. With nothing there, her attention drifts and latches onto the first clue she finds.

           A circular bruise on his neck near his collarbone. There’s no mistaking what it was.

           “Oh my God,” she says, “Oh my God!”

           Chimney sighs, “What? What is it!”

           “Buck. You and Eddie?”

           “Buck and Eddie – oh,” He sees them in new light, understanding dawning. “Oh my God, you two are dating!”

           Eddie reveals his own ruddy cheeks, hands switching tactics from shielding to squeezing Buck’s shoulder. “And you thought they knew!”

           “I, I – uh…” Buck splutters, cornered. He points at Maddie, “You’re pregnant! I think that’s more important!”

           “But you and Eddie,” she insists, “you and Eddie!” Maddie laughs, stress from the past few days seeping out of her. “I can’t believe – you and Eddie!”

           “Yeah, yeah, me and Eddie…” Buck slumps into his seat, glaring. Clearly uncomfortable with the attention.

           She sees where his thoughts drift, though, and tosses a lifeline. “I think it’s great, Evan,” Maddie says. Waits for when their gazes lock again. “Really.”

           His stiffness eases the longer they stay like that, until a gooey smile spreads across his face. “Talking about great things,” Buck says, gesturing at her and Chimney, “a baby? You’ll be a mother and – and you have to tell me how it happened.”

           “I think you know how it happened, Buck,” Chimney chuckles, “Plus, I think we should be asking that of you two.”

           Eddie rolls his eyes, slinging his arm over Buck’s shoulders and pulling him closer. Buck instinctively leaning into Eddie’s side. Maddie pauses, stunned by how well they fit together. Hindsight makes everything obvious but she should have seen this coming. “We can compare stories,” Eddie says, “but since baby trumps new relationship, you two can start.”

           Maddie nods, sliding one hand free from Buck’s hold and to Chimney’s. Tangling their fingers together. Uniting their family as they take their next steps into unfamiliar territory. Maddie expects the next nine months will be difficult and taxing. Not only with the baby but working while pregnant and then planning what comes after.

           With her family at her side, Maddie feels confident in handling whatever challenge comes her way.

[yourcoffindoor]

Bulletproof Heart Pt. 3

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

AN: Without further ado, here’s part 3! Sorry if there’s any typos that I missed, I kind of speed edited this one. I have one more part planned for this series, so the end is coming up soon. Hope you enjoy!!

From city to city, crowd to crowd, the tour continued on, and you went on with the show, your unwelcome encounter with Alex only making you more tenacious, more determined to outperform every band there.

You put on an unaffected front, making it seem as if you couldn't care less that he was playing Warped tour as well. Gavin was the only band member who knew about your history, and he fluttered about you like a mother hen ready to offer comfort or homicide at the drop of a hat. He would regularly attempt to gauge your feelings, but it only served to make you withdraw deeper into yourself, denying that could ever be shaken by his presence.

But the truth was you were shaken. You were scared.  Scared that you would one day see that face smirking at you from a crowd and freeze, unable to ignore a presence so heavy and halting like a storm cloud threatening a downpour.

And then there was Gerard. You hadn't seen him since your first show, but your thoughts turned toward him again and again. What must he have thought that day, when Alex forced his way between you? When you stormed off alone? If he had tried to come and speak to you since that day, you hadn't heard anything. Did he think that there was still something left between you and Alex?

It was that thought that caused the most pain every time it crossed your mind, and you hated yourself for it. At night when you were alone your thoughts went around and around in the same infuriating cycle, from not caring what anyone had to think about you, to anxiously wondering if Gerard had someone else he was sharing that crooked smile with. You never let the words cross your mind or leave your lips, but your heart beat constantly with the hopeful thought: Please don't think that I could have feelings for anyone else.

Meanwhile, the Parties never ended--in fact they seemed to grow in boisterousness, picking up attendees like a tornado gathering wind. Your band mates went every now and again to socialize, but They held no value for you. Primarily because the chance of running into Alex was far too high-- You knew he would never miss an opportunity to get shit faced, and he would probably be skulking around in hopes of seeing you there, ready to latch on and torment you further. But beyond that, the chance of running into Gerard was likely to be less than zero.

That didn't stop your band mates from encouraging you to loosen up, hoping to pop the contemplative bubble that you'd encased yourself in for weeks.

"I'm gonna head out. What are you up to tonight? You should take a break from everything." Gavin suggested before heading out one night, despite knowing full well you'd die before you'd agree.

"I'll find something to keep me busy."

"I'd tell you to come with, but I know a certain someone you're crushing on won't be there."

"Oh really?" You flipped through a book on the table in front of you, playing dumb and failing miserably at it. "I do not know to whom you are referring."

"Yeah poor guy. Frank told me that there's too much pressure to drink here, so he's always in the bus alone. Bored. Desperate for human contact."

You gave Gavin the side-eye. "Alright alright, we get it."

He laughed. "Their bus is five down on the left. Y'know, if you feel like it. Thank me later." He said, darting out the door before anything could be thrown at him.

You rolled your eyes and flipped through the book, trying to read and forget the information that was just dropped in your lap. You remembered when you and Gerard had last spoke, how shy he looked when he attempted to invite you over before being cut off by Alex's sudden arrival.

Maybe a quick stop wouldn't hurt, you thought to yourself. He was in the middle of asking me to anyway...

Before you knew it you were on your feet, flinging on a jacket and taking a step outside. It would be the nice thing to do after all, since he can't leave the bus...

It took a bit of searching, but you finally found a bus with My Chemical Romance painted on its side in large black letters. Your heart did its familiar flutter as you walked up to the door, raising your hand and giving a rapid succession of knocks.

You heard a slight shuffle from inside, and after a few moments Gerard answered, his face changing from one of confusion to a soft smile as he shook the hair from out of his eyes.

"I hope this isn't a bad time," you said sheepishly, "I was told I could find some good comics here."

He flicked his spent cigarette to the ground, blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth. "Is there ever a bad time for comics? Come on in."

You followed him inside, and he stopped suddenly. "Aw shit." he muttered.

"What is it?" you asked, concerned.

"I just realized we're fucking slobs."

He wasn't wrong, you observed with a laugh. The interior of the bus was divided into piles of organized chaos; clothes tossed into piles on the floor and empty chairs, makeup left open and scattered amongst soda cans by every available counter space. A few stray guitars sat soundless, happily resting until their next performance.

Gerard was obviously a bit embarrassed by the state of the place, as evidenced by the faint red blush that clouded over his nose and cheeks.

"Yeah, so its not exactly Buckingham Palace in here..." he joked, one hand anxiously running through his dark hair. His bashfulness only endeared him to you further.

"Well my bus actually IS Buckingham Palace, and it looks just about the same so don't feel too bad."

"Perfect. Anything to make you feel more at home." He mused, relocating some crumpled clothes from a small sofa nearby. "Have a seat, your majesty."

"I haven't seen you around in awhile." You noted as he hastily shoved things into cupboards.

"I've basically turned into a hermit when I'm not performing. Since I can't step outside without seeing a bottle, I don't really have much choice."

So Gavin was telling the truth. Hm.

"Well, the hermit lifestyle is probably underrated anyway."

He laughed softly. "Oh for sure. And I'll show you whats been keeping me busy this whole time."

Gerard shuffled to the back of the bus for a moment before returning with an armload of comic books, laying them proudly on the table in front of you. "These are some of my current favorites," he began after taking a seat beside you, close enough for you to admire the look of sheer happiness in his expression as he spoke. He was clearly in his element. "This one here has some of the best coloring I've ever seen."

You must have stared at him for a bit too long because he caught your affectionate glance and paused.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," you said, immediately breaking eye contact as heat flooded your cheeks. "Its just nice to hear you talk about them. You're so passionate about it."

He laughed. "Well its also nice to talk about them with someone who gets it."

You felt like you could fly right out of your skin. Everything about him made you feel a sense of belonging that you hadn't found with anyone else before.

"Hey when do I get to see that comic you said you were working on? I think you mentioned that the last time I saw you."

"Oh you remembered! Uh, one sec, I'll pull it out."

He wandered back into the unknown void that was his bunk, and came back with a folio filled to the brim with concepts, sample panels and character sketches.

"I'm pretty proud of this. Its a work in progress so uh...be gentle."

You knew Gerard was talented, but you were taken aback at the skill and creativity that had gone into this endeavor. Here he had created a world entirely his own and you were drawn in immediately.

"Gerard this is fucking fantastic! Seriously I need a full length comic right now."

"Right now? I'd rather talk to you."

You and Gerard talked as if you'd known each other forever. You found him to be witty and charming, but most importantly sincere; and the conversation flowed with ease.

"You know I'm a little surprised. I wouldn't have expected a guy like you to be alone in his bus on a big tour like this."

He laughed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean there's a lot of bands here that seem like they're only motivated by the attention they can get from girls. You're not like that."

"Its never been about that for me. I find those guys just as annoying as you do." He paused for a moment, hesitating as if he was unsure if he should continue. "Speaking of annoying...That guy, Alex--"

"Oh, yeah, sorry about him. I didn't even know he was gonna be on this tour since I haven't spoken to him in ages. I'm doing my best to avoid him."

"You seemed pretty upset when I saw you last. Just wanted to make sure he wasn't bothering you or anything."

You paused for a moment, replaying his words in your head to process them. Gerard not only noticed your reaction to Alex, he remembered and was concerned?

"So you guys aren't like...a thing anymore?"

"NO," you said a bit too eagerly. "I mean no, definitely not. I'd have to be crazy."

"Good," he replied softly, "I mean, I'm glad as long as you're happy."

You realized you had been making eye contact with his lips, the pair of you inching closer to each other with every syllable.

Your breath slowed, and you tucked a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "And...there's no one that you're involved with?"

"No," he confirmed without missing a beat, "but there is someone I have in mind."

If there was a speed limit for heartbeats, you would have been violating the law. Your next words came out almost as a whisper. "And who would that be?"

Hazel eyes flashing, Gerard cupped the side of your face with one hand, and you instinctively moved closer to meet his lips. The kiss felt like it was part dream, too good to be true as endorphins flooded your veins, a heat kindling in your stomach. You couldn't begin to tell if it lasted seconds or minutes, but still when your lips parted, it felt too soon.

"Oh." was all you could say, and the pair of you merely grinned, satisfied to be silent in the aftermath.

You caught a glance at your watch. 1:05 AM.

"I can't believe I have the willpower to do this," you began reluctantly, "but If I don't head back now I'll end up living here."

"I don't see the problem." he remarked, and you punched him in the arm.

"Thanks for a great night." you pecked him on the cheek, and before he had time to react, you jumped up and made your way towards the door.

"Come back anytime for more talk about comics!" he called after you with a laugh.

Your cheeks were buzzing and a warmth spread through your veins, giddy from your night with Gerard. You paused outside of your bus door, taking a deep breath to try and steady your heartbeat. You didn't want to rouse any suspicion from your band mates-not yet anyway. You just wanted to keep this moment to yourself for awhile.

After you cooled down, you quietly opened the door, hoping nobody would notice you sneaking in and that you could hop straight into your bunk. Instead you were met with Gavin and Liz sitting down on the sofa, looking very concerned.

"Hey," you said with hesitation, "Everything alright?"

They shared an uncomfortable look.

"Y/N, I'm not sure how to put this..." Liz began, fumbling with her fingers in an attempt to find the right words.

"What's going on?" you felt the blush from only moments ago drain away into cold dread.

"Its Alex," Gavin explained, "He and his band have been going around with a camera getting girls to flash them in exchange for backstage passes..."

You rolled your eyes. "So he's still trash. What does this have to do with me?"

"Well, the thing is, he's been telling people he has video of you. And him. Together. And that its gonna be included with the rest of the fucked up footage they're recording."

Your pulse started racing, erasing your giddy buzz from only moments before. You slumped into the nearest chair, trying to gather your thoughts.

"I never even knew I was being filmed..." you said softly. Nausea bubbled in your stomach as you were unwillingly dragged back into your intimate memories, a place you had successfully moved on from in recent years but whose impact you could never truly erase.

"Are you ok?" Liz asked, her voice low and gentle as though she was afraid you were about to shatter. Those words were all you needed to be set off.

"No. No I'm not fucking okay." You stood up suddenly from your chair, pacing. "Do you know how hard it was to leave that situation? Do you you know you much I struggled to make a life an a name for myself? How I had to rebuild myself after him? And now this?" You were shaking, your voice trembling with pent up emotion. "This was supposed to be an amazing, once in a lifetime experience. The beginning of everything for us. So why can't I just be left the fuck alone!"  

Your band mates called after you as you stormed to your bunk, pulling the curtains tight behind you and burying your face in your pillow. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself break down, your unhindered sobs turning your pillow into an ocean.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @bnhamoonsunzine! I wanted to do something soft after the festival arc.

…

…

…

…

Sprawled on the ground, Kaminari woke up to a pounding in his head and a stiff back. He lay still, staring at the cloudy night sky, feeling an unfamiliar weight across his waist. His sides were warm. This was not his bed. Actually, this was not a bed at all, this was the sandy beach and it was a big mistake to sleep like this. Looking to his left, he groaned as he saw Izuku’s feet next to him. That would mean…Kaminari looked down and groaned again. Kirishima’s arm was hanging limply over his waist, his friend lying spread out as though to cover the most space. Maybe it was a manly thing in his eyes but it was a disappointment in Kaminari’s.

Slowly, he slowly examined his surroundings. Lying prone around him were the rest of his classmates: some on the chairs, some on the ground like him. A handful had managed to make it back to tents the teachers had set up. Around them were streamers, plastic cups, and cake crumbs, the remnants of their afterparty. After having the world’s best culture fair, with the most rocking band, they’d all celebrated. And maybe over-celebrated—Kaminari had never seen Iida loosen up and dance like he had and he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to see it again.

He wasn’t sure how they managed to convince the teachers to let them have a beach party. Maybe it was because it was November and no one was there anyways. Or maybe they needed a break too; they’d been cooped up inside of their school for so long. Either way, he was glad to finally take a break from it all: the villains, the fights, the homework. Kaminari closed his eyes, listening to the waves as they gently lapped the shore.

Now that he was thinking about it, he was thirsty. And hot. Definitely hot, his friends were like heaters next to him. Carefully, he picked up Kirishima’s hand and tossed it off. Fortunately, the big lug was as dense in his sleep as he was awake and just mumbled something unintelligible as he rolled over. Kaminari sighed with relief. So far so good. Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet. Now he just had to make it through the obstacle course of his friends and he could find something in the cooler. Hell, he could even sleep in his sleeping bag after this; the sky above didn’t look like it was going to be day anytime soon.

As he lowered his eyes, he noticed a figure further down the beach, by the pier: Jirou’s. Forgetting all about his thirst, he quietly wandered toward her, carefully dodging his classmates and the trash they’d left behind. Despite it being November, the air was still warm. A breeze ruffled through his hair, carrying with it the quiet notes of Jirou’s guitar. Now that he was closer, he could see her holding her instrument, strumming it every now and then as she cleaned it and tightened the strings. Padding over, he asked, “You really love that, huh?”

“Wha—?” Immediately, Jirou’s earjacks tangled around his feet and he tripped. He cried as he hit the wooden pier and she looked at him in surprise. “Oh, it’s you—don’t surprise me like that!”

“I wasn’t trying to,” he groaned, rubbing his chin as he sat up. Hopefully, nothing was bleeding. “You should have been paying more attention.”

“And you should have reacted quicker,” Jirou snapped back, her ears red. No doubt it was embarrassment for what had just happened. She’d never been one for apologizing, a trait she shared with Bakugou. “What’re you doing here?”

“I saw you.” Kaminari sat down near her, looking curiously at her guitar. It was a different one than the one they’d used for the band, a big wooden one that didn’t look anything at all like that electric monster. Faintly, he remembered her bringing it down for the party. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I dunno, just felt like playing something. And I wanted to clean it up from all the soda you kept splashing on it.” Jirou patted the guitar, smiling.

“You had to do that all the way here?” he asked, raising a brow. The only thing the pier had going for it was the lamp posts behind him, bathing them both in a pool of light. While there wasn’t much sand here, there was a little. If there was one guarantee about sand, it was this: it got everywhere. “What about your tent?”

“…right. I could have done it there.” Jirou slapped her forehead. She started to stand up. “I’ll go, don’t want to wake anyone else up.”

Immediately, he latched onto her wrist, preventing her from getting up. When she looked at him, perplexed, he shook his head, letting go of her arm. “You didn’t wake me. And it’s nice here. So, stay?”

It was the least eloquent he’d felt his whole life but she stayed put anyways. “It is nice out,” she agreed. That was Jirou-nese for ‘I want to stay’. He was starting to get a read on her, get a hang of the strange ways she acted.

“You were great today.” Crossed his arms behind his head, leaning back into it. “I can’t believe you can play so many instruments and sing—you should be in a band or something.”

“Or something,” she echoed, going back to adjusting her guitar. Her eyes remained strained on the knobs even as she answered. “My parents are musicians, actually.”

“Really?” Then again, considering her bedroom, he could believe it. Either that or she was a music nut. Or both. Definitely both.

“Yeah, but I want to do something more…heroic. Help more people.” Jirou strummed her guitar again, her lithe fingers dancing on the chords. “I can always sing after.”

If he had that much talent and a chance at a cushy life, would he have made the same decision? Probably not. Half of the reason he came here was because he didn’t really have any other plans. “That’s amazing.”

Looking embarrassed, Jirou shook her head. “Not really.”

She always did that. Putting herself down, acting like her talents were nothing—it was one thing to be humble, it was another to pretend she had no skills whatsoever. Kaminari frowned. “Don’t.”

“Don’t?” She blinked, staring at him blankly.

“You always make it sound like it’s no big deal, but it is.” He moved, ignoring her surprised intake of air as he sat next to her. Leaning close, he glared. “Take credit for what you do. It’s amazing. You’re amazing. Stop pretending otherwise.”

“I…” She swallowed, scooching back a smidge. “I guess you’re right.” Tucking her hair behind her ear, she grinned. “I am good at music.”

“Yeah, you are!” He agreed, smiling broadly back. “You’re amazing, good at music, heroic—”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” She laughed, embarrassed.

“And cute,” he added with a wink.

Jirou glared at him, flushing. “Ok, enough with the teasing.”

He wasn’t. The blush on her cheeks only made her cuter, but Kaminari had enough wits about him to know better than to say that. She’d probably punch him and he didn’t want to ruin the mood. Glancing at her guitar, he changed the topic. “So you don’t only play rock?”

Eyeing him suspiciously, she nodded. “Yeah. I like rock the best but my parents taught me different styles and how to mix them.”

“So you’re like a DJ?” he guessed.

Her withering glare told him otherwise. “No, that’s a different skill entirely.” When he fell silent with a sheepish look, she sighed. “It’s more like…uh, how’s this.”

Jirou started strumming her guitar, a familiar sound he recognized as Born to be Wild. Only…only different. Maybe it was the guitar itself, the strings softening the sound. Occasionally the notes didn’t sound quite right, like Jirou had tweaked them, plucking them from the song and rearranging them. It became a song he knew and didn’t know. After playing half the song, she stopped and looked at him, her eyes shining. “See?”

If she had been cute before, she was downright beautiful now. Kaminari swallowed, barely able to nod. His neck felt hot, his palms sweaty, and just like the song, he felt different. Like she’d plucked his emotions and rearranged them. Now he was the one who couldn’t look at her. “Do you know any others?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Her eyes drifted off him and he breathed in relief as she focused on her guitar. Still excited, she jumped from song to song, rearranging melodies as easy as counting to three. “What about this one?”

Kaminari looked up at the stars, listening. His eyes started to slide shut. It was strange, despite them being rock songs, they felt like a lullaby. Head heavy, he started to lean to the side. Falling on Jirou’s shoulder, he felt her stiffen before sighing. Exasperated, he was sure, but hopefully there was some fondness in it too.

Hopefully.

She said something unintelligible and he was asleep before she switched songs.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Partying and Poker Faces

Criminal Minds x Supernatural

Word Count: ~3350

Warnings: Errbody gettin drunk. Terrible zamboni puns. 

A/N: No, seriously, it’s just random drunk conversations. They are ridiculous. It’s fun. Thanks to @stunudo​, @fookinghelljensensthighs​, @lastactiontricia​ and everybody else in the Slack chat who listened to me ramble and helped with Nutcracker jokes/Winchester band names. Hair clip scene inspired by this post. 

Part 6 of the Rockstar AU! 

-

-

The “Wayward Sons” World Tour: Pre-Tour Kickoff Party

. . .

“Okay, seriously though, my friend found all these pictures of them at Bonnaroo walking around with a girl with blue hair, right? So she did a side-by-side analysis and she swears it’s Harry Styles in a wig. Like, honest to god.” 

“Who’s Harry Styles?” Spencer asks, putting his book down and rubbing his eyes as he comes out of his reading trance.

“Only the love of my life,” Penelope tells him. 

“Penelope,” Emily interrupts. “You are not allowed to ask him if he’s really friends with Harry Styles.” 

Penelope deflates slightly. “But -”

JJ tells her, “You are definitely not allowed to ask if you can have Harry Styles’s phone number.” 

Penelope rolls her eyes. “Apparently there’s a whole group of crazies who think he and Sam are actually dating. There are conspiracy theories and everything.” 

“Let’s just outlaw the subject of Harry Styles altogether,” JJ says hurriedly. “Okay?” 

“Oh my God, I wouldn’t actually ask. Are you ready yet, Em?” 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Emily replies, glaring at her reflection. She’s been trying to even out her wings for like half an hour now. “I look like a raccoon.” 

“So… normal then?” Spencer asks, with his cheekiest smile. 

“Uh oh, we’ve got Sassy Spence tonight,” JJ says. She grabs Emily’s arm to tug her away from the mirror. “You’re gorgeous. Let’s go.” 

“Forward, march!” Penelope orders. “To Suite 202!” 

. . . 

“So then Sammy asks if she’s his daughter,” Dean finishes. 

Hotch and Spencer laugh; it makes Hotch look about ten years younger. 

“What did she say?” Spencer asks, tucking his hair behind his ears again. With his legs crossed in his ratty Chucks, he looks too young to be drinking. 

“Just said ‘I’m his wife,’ ice cold, and walked away.”

“You should’ve seen the look on Sam’s face,” Cas adds. He settles down next to Dean, handing him a fresh drink and sitting close. For a moment Dean forgets that they’re allowed to be close, that he’s not in public any more, and then he puts an arm around Cas, smiling to himself. 

“What about you?” Dean asks. 

“I haven’t gotten starstruck since Kurt Cobain,” Hotch answers. “But you should ask Spencer what happened when he met David Byrne.” 

“Spencer, what happened when you met David Byrne?” Cas asks with a smirk. 

“Well… you know how Freud talked about seeing the Acropolis for the first time? The feeling of derealization?” 

“No,” Dean says, raising his eyebrows. “Should I?” 

“What you have to understand is that my mom was playing me the Talking Heads while I was in the womb,” Spencer continues earnestly. “Remain In Light, mostly, because it came out that year, but — anyway. Research shows —“

“David Byrne is his Acropolis,” Hotch translates. “He didn’t speak for almost two hours after they were introduced.” 

“And I get the feeling there aren’t many things that render him speechless,” Cas says dryly. 

. . .

“Hey there, hot stuff,” Penelope says, and she sits in the empty spot next to Derek on the couch. She almost kicks Spencer as she does so; he’s sitting on the floor in front of the couch, hunched over one of the acoustic guitars that everybody’s been passing around. 

“You know there’s another chair, right?” asks Sam, who’s sprawled out in one of the armchairs opposite their couch.   

“Trust me, it’s pointless,” Derek tells him. “He hates chairs.” 

“That’s not true,” Spencer says absent-mindedly, tucking his hair behind his ears. “I like the ones with wheels.” 

“Wait, you play keys, right?” Sam asks, watching Spencer pluck out a quick, dexterous open-tuned thing that Penelope is pretty sure he’s improvising. 

“And synths,” Spencer says, pushing his hair out of his eyes again. “But also… a little bit of everything, I guess.” 

“Guitar, bass, drums, violin, cello, saxophone, clarinet,” Derek rattles off proudly. “What else? There are some weird ones.” 

“Didgeridoo!” Penelope adds. 

“She calls it my didgeri-don’t,” Spencer says, and it’s true; it’s her least favorite instrument, which is unfortunate because it’s one of her favorite words.“And there are a few things I built, I guess, but haven’t really named yet.”

“That’s awesome,” Sam says, looking suitably impressed. 

“You need a goddamn haircut, Pretty Boy,” Derek says, as Spencer tries to get his hair out of his eyes again. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Sam tells Spencer, running a hand through the shampoo-commercial situation he has on his own head. “And don’t let my brother start in on you, either.” 

Penelope rummages in her purse for a second and pulls out a neon green butterfly clip. She combs some hair back from Spencer’s forehead, twists it, and secures it so that the butterfly is right on the crown of Spencer’s head.

“Thanks, that’s much better,” Spencer says, giving her a quick smile over his shoulder. Sam stifles a laugh. 

“Hey,” Derek says, in an undertone. “Got any more of those?” 

“I love the way your brain works,” Penelope stage-whispers back. She digs around until she has a whole handful of aggressively colorful glittery barrettes (some are shaped like flowers, some have pom-poms) and passes half to Derek. She leans down and starts to braid a little section of hair near Spencer’s temple. He doesn’t seem to notice. 

. . . 

“You’re new, aren’t you?” Hotch asks, as he starts mixing himself a drink. “I don’t think we met at the surprise show.” 

“Jack,” the kid says, with a sweet smile. He’s all fresh-faced and earnest. Hotch has concerns. 

“I’m Aaron, but everybody calls me Hotch,” he says. “What‘s your part in this whole circus?” 

“I’m their guitar tech,” he chirps. “Cas is my uncle, also. He’s the one who got me the job.” 

“Uh-huh. First tour?” 

He nods. “I’m excited! This is going to be great.”

Hotch has a feeling this is going to be trouble. 

Jack has a hand on the whiskey bottle when Hotch notices and asks, “How old are you?” 

“He’s twenty,” Charlie interrupts, snatching the bottle from Jack’s hand. “Down, boy.” 

Jack shrugs, not seeming particularly bothered, and wanders away with his soda. 

“Good to know,” Hotch says wryly. 

Charlie gives Hotch an apologetic look and says, “I feel like a spoilsport. Like, let the kid have some fun, right?”

“So you followed all the rules when you were his age?” 

“Well, no, not so much, although I wasn’t into drinking so much as… um. Mild felonies.” She wrinkles her nose expressively. “But I have strict orders from Cas. He might look like a teddy bear, but Cas can be scary.” 

“Felonies,” Hotch says, trying to keep a straight face. Charlie nods. 

“Hacking, mostly?” she says tentatively. “There was some… environmentally focused cyber-terrorism, I guess you’d call it.” 

“You should talk to Penelope, she used to do that sort of thing as well.” 

Charlie looks over dubiously at Penelope, who is pulling up the hem of Derek’s shirt and showing off his abs, Vanna White style, for Sam’s benefit. Sam looks shockingly unaffected, so odds are he is straight, in which case, Rossi owes Hotch some money.

“Really. She was actually contacted by the FBI, they wanted to hire her, but.” Hotch smiles at the way Charlie’s mouth falls open. “She has a whole… sordid history. They used to call her the Black Queen.” 

“Are you… what?” Charlie asks incredulously. 

“I know, it’s a ridiculous name, but —”

“No, that’s — I can’t believe it,” Charlie stutters. “Really?” 

Hotch raises an eyebrow. “Really. Does that mean something to you?” 

Charlie shakes her head, eyes wide. “You don’t understand, she’s a legend. She’s like a frakking rockstar.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“No, like an actual rockstar,” Charlie insists. “Not that you’re not a rockstar, I didn’t mean — holy crap.” 

“Would you like me to introduce you?” Hotch offers. 

Charlie goes pale. “I don’t — um.” 

“I think you’re the first person who has ever been intimidated by Penelope Garcia,” Hotch muses. 

Charlie does a quick shot of whiskey before nodding. “Okay, I think I’m ready.” 

. . . 

“I am so fuckin’ glad I don’t have to deal with this every night,” Bobby says gruffly, with an expansive gesture at everyone in the room and their varied levels of inebriation. “We’re too old for this shit. Don’t know how you still want to go out on the road.” 

“Of all the groups I’ve managed, believe it or not, this one’s the easiest.”

Bobby looks across the room to where JJ is passing around shots and Emily is talking everybody into a game of Truth or Dare, as a “bonding exercise.” Spencer is clinging to Morgan’s back like a gangly white Yoda; Morgan, who’s serenading Sam with “Wonderwall” (Sam is covering his ears and looking pained) doesn’t seem to notice his weight. 

“I don’t believe it, actually,” Bobby tells Rossi, who shrugs. 

“They take care of each other, really. No ego involved, with any of them, which is rare enough in this business.” Rossi pauses as Penelope shrieks; Hotch, who is standing between her and Charlie, looks vaguely alarmed, but nobody seems to be in any real danger. Rossi adds, “They may act like a bunch of assclowns sometimes, but they’re much smarter than they look. I told you, didn’t I?” 

“Fair enough,” Bobby says. He’d called Rossi on a whim, looking for an opener for Dean’s surprise show and hinting about “discretion” and “liberal types,” trying not to give too much away. He’d expected Rossi to put him in touch with a friend of a friend, or something. He didn’t expect this to work out so well.

Bobby’s not used to things working out well. It’s a nice change. 

“Good to see you again, anyway” Rossi says. “You’re coming out to a few more shows, right?” 

“Course. I’ll be around here and there.” 

“Bet you’ll miss them soon enough. I was bored stiff when I was retired,” Rossi says. 

“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to get those two through their teenage years,” Bobby grouches. “Just about put me in an early grave.” 

“They seem like good kids,” Rossi says. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since they were… how old?” 

Bobby can’t help but smile at that. “Yeah, they’ve got good heads on their shoulders. They grew up. Just in time, too. I kept tellin’ them, success is going to change things, but I don’t think they believed me. Idjits.” 

Rossi nods knowingly. “Cheers to success, then. And old friends.” 

“I’ll drink to that.” 

. . . 

“Pastor’s son, in the church,” Emily says. 

“Twins,” Dean replies smugly. 

“Nice.” Emily gives him a fist-bump. “Backstage during a performance of The Nutcracker.” 

“I’ll be very disappointed if there were no nut jokes.” 

Emily smirks. “Well, there were no actual nuts involved, but the fairy did, in fact, taste like sugar plums.” 

“Yeah, okay, not bad,” Dean says. He clinks his beer bottle against hers and they drink. “On top of a zamboni.” 

“You mean zam-bone-y?” 

“Thank you! Sam rolled his eyes so hard I thought they were gonna fall out when I said that.” 

“The Roxy.”  

“Green room? C’mon,” Dean scoffs. “Amateur hour.” 

“Nope,” Emily says triumphantly. “In the crowd, during a Guns N Roses show.” 

“Okay, that’s fuckin’ awesome,” Dean laughs.

“It really was.” 

Dean’s eyes flick across the room, following Cas, who just deadpanned something that’s making Hotch double over with laughter. Dean’s eyes go crinkly at the corners as his smile gets even brighter — a full-on megawatt movie star smile — and his expression is so sweet and soft and utterly adoring that Emily melts a little bit. 

“Gross,” she says, elbowing Dean. He elbows her right back. 

“Shuddup,” he mutters. 

“No more twins for you,” Emily sing-songs. 

“Worth it,” Dean says firmly, and even she can’t think of anything snarky to say to that. 

. . . 

JJ can only understand about one in five of the words Penelope and Charlie are chattering to each other, so she gives up and leaves them to it. She’s slightly concerned they’re plotting to take over the world, or something. They don’t seem to notice her leaving. 

Dean and Emily are side by side on one of the couches, both slouching, with their feet up on the coffee table and beers resting on their stomachs, giggling about something as if they’ve been lifelong friends. The whole tableau is unexpected, but not in a bad way. 

There’s something about Dean that JJ just didn’t like, at first. It’s mostly that he’s too likable. In every interaction they’ve had, he’s been incredibly charismatic, warm, polite, funny… but it’s not him. 

JJ is an expert at getting people to trust her without ever showing her hand. She recognizes a bluff when she sees one. 

She’s been watching Dean, whenever he thinks she’s not paying attention. He lets his guard down, sometimes, when he’s with his brother or Cas, but there’s a well-disguised wall that goes up when he talks to anyone else. It’s defensive fortifications camouflaged as charm. 

Apparently Emily’s shoved through whatever wall Dean usually puts up when he’s around strangers. Emily can do that to a person, though. JJ knows that better than anybody. 

Emily’s clearly teasing him about something. He’s grinning, boyish and bashful and genuine, and JJ likes him a hell of a lot more, suddenly. 

She heads over to join them on their couch, sliding over the armrest to sprawl halfway over Emily’s lap and cuddle in close. 

“Are you two still playing Truth or Dare? This doesn’t look very daring.” 

“Debauchery pissing contest,” Emily informs her. 

Dean is watching her, and his walls are up again: pleasant smile slapped on his face, eyes calculating, playing it close to the chest until he figures her out. 

She raises an eyebrow and prompts him: “Well? Aren’t you going to ask me?” 

He looks suspicious, but he goes with it. “What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?”

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” JJ says primly, and for a second Dean’s actually thinking about taking her seriously. She rolls her eyes. “Kidding. Middle of a Guns N Roses show.” 

He looks confused for a second. Then Emily and JJ high-five, and Dean barks out a laugh. 

“I didn’t know you —” 

He hesitates. 

“Swing that way?” JJ supplies. 

“Yeah, that.”

“Most people don’t, and we’re gonna keep it that way. Understood?”

Dean seems surprised by the sudden sharp edge in her voice. “Gotcha.” 

“I used to think she was crazy for not coming out publicly,” Emily tells Dean, but she’s looking at JJ with a little half-smile on her face. “But now that people are starting to give a shit about us, sometimes I think she might’ve had the right idea.” 

“Don’t lie, you love being an ‘inspiration to the youth,’” JJ says, with mocking finger quotes. “And you’ve been disappointing your mom for years, she’s used to it. Mine would probably have a heart attack.” 

“Yeah, but the number of times I get that fucking ‘Does that mean you’re attracted to pans?’ bullshit, I swear to God…” 

Dean’s looking at JJ again, but this time it’s less calculating and more admiring. He nods slowly like something just started to make sense.  

“Helluva poker face,” he says approvingly.  

JJ grins. “Yours isn’t too bad either.” 

. . . 

“I gotta ask,” Spencer says, slurred and slow. “How’d you choose the band name? The Ceiling Fires?”

Sam shrugs. “It was a recurring dream that Dean and I both used to have.” 

“Weird image.” Spencer makes a face as he undoes one of the tiny braids Penelope left in his hair. “Not that — weird isn’t a bad thing. It’s memorable.”  

“Yeah, I guess so. Dean called it that as a joke, to start with, I think, but...” Sam rambles. He’s right at that point of drunk where words just keep rolling off his tongue. “Feels like a long time ago. I mean, I did not in a million years think we’d end up here.” 

“Linear time,” Spencer comments. 

Sam waits for him to finish the thought, but apparently that’s it. 

“Linear time,” he repeats agreeably. “It’s not just… time, though, you know? It’s the whole deal. Success, I guess. People listening.  Expecting you to look a certain way, or… I don’t fucking know.”

Spencer nods pensively, combing his fingers through his hair again. “We did a magazine photo shoot the other day and they wouldn’t let me wear any of my own clothes. I like my clothes. And people keep asking if I’m dating anybody.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been getting that question too.” Spencer doesn’t know the half of it. Sam laughs to himself, rubbing his forehead, and takes a big gulp of his drink. 

Spencer pulls out another barrette with a grimace. “I mean, why would anyone care if you’re dating… who was it? Harry Styles?” 

Sam chokes and spits whiskey everywhere. 

“Who —” he wheezes, and has to stop to cough. “Fucking — how did you know?” 

“Wait, really?” 

“What?” 

“Penelope said it was just a stupid rumor,” Spencer says. He’s squinting at Sam like he’s seeing double. 

“Shit.” The adrenaline rush is going a long way toward sobering Sam up. He shakes his head and tries to pull himself together. “Shit. I just… shit.” 

“Is that a big deal?” Spencer asks, with a mild sort of confusion. “Penelope made it sound like a joke. She called it a conspiracy theory.” 

Sam stares at him, open-mouthed, before dropping his head into his hands with a groan. “Yeah, let’s just keep calling it a conspiracy theory, okay? I already owe his publicist a fucking… fruit basket, or maybe just a lot of wine.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t actually know who that is,” Spencer offers. Sam laughs weakly. “No, really, I won’t tell anybody. Even Penelope. Especially Penelope.” 

Sam studies him for a second. He looks earnest enough, in a boozy, unfocused way, but Sam’s learned the hard way that most people can’t be trusted. 

Still, worth a try. 

“If you could — yeah. Please? Just… please don’t tell anybody.” 

“Believe me,” Spencer says. “I know how it goes. If you let people see the things that matter…” He trails off, his eyes sliding to a point somewhere over Sam’s shoulder, and his voice gets unexpectedly clear and fierce. “People can be vicious. I wouldn’t give them a weapon like that.” 

Sam’s pretty sure he shouldn’t feel so reassured — Spencer still has a glittery butterfly clip sticking out from behind one ear — but he is, somehow. 

“Thanks,” he says quietly. 

Spencer shrugs, like it’s nothing, and settles the guitar in his lap again. “Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.”

“Oh hell no,” Sam grumbles, and throws a couch cushion at him.  

. . .

“Okay,” Hotch says decisively. “Everybody have their room keys?” 

“Aww! He’s like the world’s cutest drill sergeant,” Charlie says. Hotch scowls at her, but he has a feeling it’s not very intimidating. She just giggles.

“Rossi?” Hotch asks, looking around and doing a quick head count. 

“Went to bed an hour ago to listen to the latest episode of his fucking true crime podcast,” Emily says. 

Hotch frowns. “Without me? Sneaky bastard.” 

“Of all the weird fucking hobbies…” JJ mutters. “Hey, Morgan, is it my turn to be the jetpack?” 

“Fuck no. I am way too buzzed to be carrying any of you home tonight. You can walk.”

“I’m not sure I can, actually,” Spencer says morosely. He looks like a rag doll, sitting on the floor, propped up by the side of the couch. 

“Somebody come get Schroeder,” Dean mumbles, from where he’s curled up on the couch with his head in Cas’s lap. 

“We got this,” Penelope says determinedly. She grabs Spencer by the wrists and hauls him to his feet, and they lean against each other heavily, somehow managing to stay upright. 

Sam opens the door for them, smiling bemusedly as they all start to trail past: Morgan first, uncharacteristically wobbly on his feet; Emily and JJ, with their hands tucked into each other’s back pockets; Spencer and Penelope, staggering dangerously; and finally, Hotch bringing up the rear.

“Thanks,” he tells Sam, and waves at the others. “See you tomorrow.” 

Before the door closes behind him, Hotch hears Dean say, “It’s gonna be a fun tour.” 

.

.

.

[julieandthephantomsblogduh]

Bright - Episode Two, Part One

DISCLAIMER - I only own Lia. Don’t steal it ain’t right. Love y’all and peace out, be safe 

The Molina Household - the morning before school

Julie and Lia sit together on the piano bench as tears fall between the two of them. They had both lost so much and sometimes words couldn’t express that. Music had been a way for both of them to release their pain and knowing that Julie finally got her voice back brought a tear to both of their eyes. All of a sudden, Flynn runs into the studio crying too.

“Oh sweetie not you too,” Malia says, standing up to hug Flynn, “What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk…”

“Are you okay?” Julie asks, putting the sheet music back onto the piano.

“No I am not okay, you just got kicked out of music! I’ve been up all night thinking of what to say. I might’ve drank seven sodas but I need to get this out.” Flynn starts.

“Wait I have something to tell you…” Julie tries to interrupt her but to no avail.

“No it’s my turn to talk,” Flynn continues as Julie and Lia share a smirk knowing that Flynn’s gonna rant about this now, “You can’t give up music. Your music is like a gift so that would be a tragedy. So you’re basically, like cancelling Christmas, and I love Christmas!”

“Flynn…” Malia tries to talk but she just puts her hand over her mouth.

“Uh huh. When we were six we all promised to be in a band together. Triple Threat?”

“I never agreed to that name,” Julie smiles.

Flynn lets out a sigh, “That’s not the point. Jules, if you leave the music program forever we’ll be apart forever. That’s just what happens. Sure we’ll see each other in the hall sometime but… Malia would be my only friend and…”

“Hey!”

“That’s not true Flynn,” Julie says.

“The only time we’ll ever contact each other would be through instagram likes. Every Time I’ll be hitting that little heart, my heart would break a little bit and when my heart breaks… I’ll turn my sadness onto Malia and you don’t want Malia to deal with a sad Flynn right?”

“Okay first of all,” Lia starts, “I’m starting to feel very concerned about our friendship…” Flynn slaps Malia’s shoulder playfully at that, “also if the seven soda’s hadn’t hit you, you would know that…”

“That I just played the piano and sang again.”

“WHAT! Why didn’t you just say so? Malia I expected a phone call.”

“Hey, I just got here, don't come at me.”

“I was trying,” Julie says, “And then your seven sodas kicked in…”

“Ohh I’m so happy for you. And me!”

“And me?” Malia asks.

“Of course you too,” Flynn says pulling Lia under her arm, “Look at you Julie, looking all… I don’t know, alive again?

“I know right it’s as if I drank seven sodas!”

“What made you play again Jules?”

“I found this song my mum wrote me,” Flynn picks up the manuscript while Malia looks at it over her shoulder, smiling gently. “Woah”

“I know. I was so afraid to play it. Anything involving music reminds me of her. Then I woke up this morning and realised that’s why I should keep on playing. To keep her memory alive.”

“Aww c’mon guys,” Lia starts pulling Julie off the bench, “Group hug”

“Yay.”

“Wait!...” Flynn yells pushing us apart, “We need to tell Mrs. Harrison you can play so you can stay in the program and we can continue to be besties and I won’t have to deal with Lia alone.”

“Hey!”

“C’mon guys, Julie’s back and Triple Threat lives on.”

“You guy’s go ahead,” Lia says, “I need to use the washroom. I’ll catch up with you guys in school.”

Lia heads towards the bathroom - Lia’s perspective

I hear the shed door shut as I get to my business. As I flush the toilet and head to start washing my hands, I hear the boys talk.

“I wonder why Julie didn’t tell us she could shred on the piano?”

“And sing that girl can sing”

“It probably has something to do with her mum. You know? Must have been hard.” I think Alex says. “Anyway, I really feel for her.”

I dry my hands quickly and I reach for the door when I hear Luke start talking, “Yeah but… now she’s got music back in her life. Just like us.”

“”Yeah, I’m not sure you can call what we have a life.”

I hold back a snort. It felt kinda weird listening in to their conversation but like it’s not as if I did it on purpose right? Anyway, I leave the washroom before anything gets too personal.

“Hey boys…”

They all turn to face me as Luke moves closer, “Hey Lia right?”

Oh my, my big brother just acknowledged me and he has no idea.

“Yeah umm… so how is it? Being ghosts”

I can see Alex raise his eyebrows from his loft.

“Look I can poof!” Reggie says moving from the door, towards me and then poofing back to the door.

“Cool… umm I’m gonna go leave now… um bye?” I kinda awkwardly say as I make eye contact with Luke. I quickly walk out and close the door. As I walk away I can hear the boys talk.

“That was weird”

“Yeah…”

I just shake my head and let the confusion take over my thoughts as I make my way towards school.

At School - In the music room with Ms. Harrison

“Believe me Julie. I think it’s wonderful that you sang again. I prayed for this moment for almost a year. But it’s too late,” Ms Harrison says.

“But what if you just hear her play?” Flynn tries, “You know she’s amazing.”

“Yeah this is like turning down Beyonce!” Lia tries causing Julie to slap her shoulder.

“Ouch!”

“I wouldn’t matter. A new student starts tomorrow,” Ms Harrison says taking a breath, “There’s only…”

“So may spots, and if I don’t participate I’m out. I know,” Julie finishes.

“I did everything I could to keep you hear this year. But Principle Lessa was very clear. Yesterday was your last chance. You’ll have to reapply next semester.”

The bell rings

Kids start filling out the room as Lia puts her arms around Julie’s and Flynn’s in hopes of comforting them.

“I’m truly sorry,” Ms. Harrison says walking away.

The three girls hug each others shoulders as they walk out.

Start of Lunch - Lia’s perspective

“Hey guys, I’ll catch up with you later? I have something to do first.” I say to Julie and Flynn, before walking back towards the music classroom. This is going to crush my soul and Flynn and Julie will be mad but I have to do this and Mum might actually be happy.

“Hey Ms. Harrison, do you mind if we talk for a second?”

Ms. Harrison turns around from her putting away her manuscript. She steps off the conductors pedestal and takes a seat in one of the many chairs and I sit down next to her. I used to come in here all the time after school and while Ms. Harrison would clean up or work, I’ll just play my guitar or sit at the piano writing some music.

“Hey Ms. Harrison?” I asked, as a nervous freshman, “Would it be okay if I stick around after school sometimes and just practice here? My parents aren’t too fond at the idea of me practicing at home.”

Ms. Harrison looks at me for a second. I was playing with the string on my hoodie biting my lip. We had just had our first class today and being a freshmen, I didn’t really have any friends other than Julie, Carrie and Flynn. Honestly though - they were all I needed. They had been there for me when my life was crashing and I promised to do the same for them no matter what.

“Why don’t we take a seat and talk for a second?” She had asked.

That day I told her everything - from my brother's death to how my parents despised the idea of me pursuing music. Ms. Harrison had promised me that I would always be welcomed to come in early or to stay a bit after school to practice or write music. For that I will forever be thankful.

“What’s going on Malia? Is everything alright at home?”

“Yeah it’s just…” I sigh, before taking a deep breath, “Would it be possible to drop out of the music program?”

“Malia… I don’t know what to say,” She looks at me confused, “I thought your parents were okay with everything now? Is there something going on? Is this about Julie?”

“It’s kind of complicated but I think… my mum isn’t too happy about my choices and with college applications and graduation coming in a couple years… I think they’d rather me go to Harvard than Juillard. I know Julie has a shot at going big but I know I’ll never try so… why shouldn’t the spot go to someone who actually deserves it?”

“Malia, you are talented and a wonderful person. You have a great voice and the music you write means so much and it’s great. I can’t stop you from dropping out but make sure you’re dropping out for you - not your mum, not your dad, not for anyone but yourself.”

“I love music Ms. Harrison, but I love my family more than anything. I can’t hurt them - they’ve already been through so much. Julie has been through so much. Me dropping out could make so many people happy. I need to do this, just promise you won’t tell Flynn or Julie why i’m dropping out?”

“Okay. Just remember that no matter what happens, you’re always welcomed here and you can always play whatever you want in here.”

“Thanks Ms. Harrison. I guess I’ll stop by the office and make it official. I’m sure mum won’t protest too much.”

I slowly turn to walk out the door, I pause for a second, “Thanks for letting me be who I truly am in here. You will never understand what you did for me when you let me stay here and do what I always wanted to do.”

“Malia, just remember that your music shows who you are - and you are a very talented woman.”

I look towards the ground as tears threaten to fall from my eyes. A sad smile forms on my lips as all the memories I’ve made in here come to an end. I clench my eyes shut and open them up. I give Ms. Harrison one last smile as I quickly walk out, heading towards the principal's office.

Back at the Molina household after school has ended

“So what’s the plan now that…” Lia starts as Julie opens the door to her room.

They walk in and the boys are all hanging out. Julie looked at the boys with a certain twinge. Reggie was laying on Julie’s bed while Alex was looking at her dresser and Luke was looking through her stuff.

“What are you guys doing in my room?”

The guys reply to her with a chorus of high pitched uhhs and umms. Lia just laughs as she drops her bag beside the door. She was going to be staying overnight.

“We were looking for the kitchen?” Luke tries.

“This… this can’t happen. It’s creepy. Get off my bed please.”

Reggie jumps off the bed as Lia laughs and takes his spot, laying down and hugging a pillow.

“Hey Julie,” Luke raises his hand, “What’s in the box?” He asks, pointing towards Julie’s dream box.

“That’s off limits.”

“Oh…” he chuckles, “Okay. Girl stuff.”

“Ohh… like butterflies and glitter?” Reggie asks, as Lia throws a pillow at him that ends up going right through him.

“Oh come on,” Alex says looking embarrassed for his friends, “I’m sorry about them.”

“It’s none of your business. And yes there might be some glitter,” Julie says while Reggie smirks only for another pillow to be thrown through him by Lia, “And Lia stop throwing pillows at them. Try a rock.”

“Hey!” Alex exclaims, picking up a picture of Julie and her mum and walking towards the bed, “I actually picked something up!”

He then proceeds to drop it on top of Lia.

“Ouch!”

“I dropped it,” Lia throws a pillow through him too.

“Uh is that you mum?” Luke asks.

“Yes and it’s my favourite picture of us. So if you break it,” she says picking up the picture and giving them the death stare, causing Lia to snort at their facial reactions, “I’ll break you.”

Julie puts the frame on her bedside as Alex says, “Ok well sorry but we’re kind of unbreakable at this point.”

Lia and Julie both throw him a WTF look.

“I don’t get it, “Julie starts, “You guys can mess up my bed, pick up your instruments but you can’t pick up other stuff?”

“I know right? It’s hard,” Luke says shrugging, “But for some reason, our instruments, easy.”

“Yeah like super easy,” Reggie adds from the edge of the bed, “Oh and check out what I learned today.”

He stands up and holds his hands out “Ah” Suddenly his guitar is across his chest and he falls backwards.

“SICK,” Lia says sitting up in bed. Luke smiles down at her as Julie says, “Yeah that looked super easy.”

Reggie continues groaning as Luke starts talking again, “It’s like I always thought, our instruments are attached to our souls.”

Julie looks towards Lia. All of a sudden Julie’s dad walks in says “Hey,” startling the boys causing Reggie to do a backflip and Luke and Alex to hold hands. Lia smirks at them before giving her attention to Mr. Molina.

“Everything ok?” He asks.

“Yeah… I’m fine.” Julie says, looking towards Lia before looking back at her dad. Luke and Alex look down to their hands, back at each other before dropping their hands. Lia watches the interaction and laughs before putting her hand in front of her mouth. Reggie smirks while Mr. Molina gives her a concerned look.

“I thought I heard you talking to someone.”

“Yeah me!” Lia says from the bed.

“Someone other than Lia”

“Must have been my laptop… that I just closed.”

“Ok… if you need anything,” he gestures towards the doors making a closing motion, “Yeah okay.”

He closes the doors. Julie turns to look towards the boys.

“Your dad looks like the kind of guy who likes to barbecue. I bet he has a great ribs recipe,” Reggie says.

“Oh my he does!” Lia laughs.

“Look I don't know but if you guys want to talk to me you have to do it in the studio. He’s worried about me enough as it is.”

“He seems chill. You should just tell him about us,” Luke says, smiling as if he just solved all the issues, as the boys agree with him.

Lia and Julie share a do they not have brains which they don’t but still look.

“Umm what?” “You’re kidding right?”

Luke’s smile falls and he ends up looking like a sad golden retriever.

“This past year, everyone’s been watching over me, being super nice as if they’re waiting for me to snap. If I tell my dad I met a ghost band. I’ll be back to talking to Dr. Turner 3 times a week.”

“Yeah… Turner is not fun,” Lia says falling backwards on Julie’s bed and staring at the ceiling.

Luke looks towards Julie, “You probably shouldn’t tell him…” he walks back towards the box, “Julie”

Lia lets out a small laugh “I thought I told you to leave that alone!”

“I know. You should have just said nothing because now I can’t stop thinking about it. Soo… What’s in the box Julie?”

Julie looks back to Lia, rolling her eyes at annoyance towards Luke, “It’s just my dream box okay!”

Luke slowly looks towards Julie as Lia’s phone buzzes. She pulls it out of her back pocket and opens it up.

“Whenever I get a thought, I write it down and get it out of my mind.”

“Like lyrics?”

“They would be if I still wrote music like I used to with my mom. Now it’s just full of stuff that doesn’t make me sad.”

The boys all look sad at her confession and Lia sits up suddenly.

“But I mean you do play. We heard you this morning,” Alex says standing up all of a sudden.

“In the garage!” Julie looks frustrated. Luke and Reggie scrunch up their faces towards him. Luke flicks his shoulder as Lia throws another pillow aimed at all three boys.

“So you were there too?”

“Uhhh… I don’t…” “Uhh he was like…” “We were… somewhere”

Lia stands up before the situation would escalate.

“I have to head home for a sec… but I’ll be back tonight. Good luck boys,” She says sending them a wink and leaving the room.

Lia’s perspective - Once she gets home

Now I don’t know why mum called me but I think I have an idea. It probably has something to do with me quitting the program. Things are gonna be awkward and suddenly I’m glad that Mr. Molina actually likes me and I was already sleeping over. As if I don’t basically live in their house. I take a breath before walking in.

“Mum! Dad! I’m home!”

I hear pots and pans clash, so I make my way towards the kitchen. As I walk towards the fridge to grab a snack Dad turns off the stove and Mum looks up from her spot at the table.

“Take a seat Malia.”

Oh crap. I make my way towards the table, a clementine in hand. I take a seat and take in the death stares burning into my face. I slowly start peeling my clementine while Mum takes in a sigh.

“Why’d I get a phone call saying that you wanted to quit the music program?”

I set aside the peels as I pull of a piece of clementine, “I thought you’d be happy.”

“So that’s it? You’re done with music? For years you fought us to get up to buy you your guitar and your violin and all the other instruments and now you just give up on it?”

I swallow a couple of pieces down, “I’m not giving up on music. I just think that… I need to focus on other things for now. Maybe I’ll reapply next semester or maybe I won’t. I just want you to be happy and okay with this.”

“In the end we aren’t going to stop you from this but. Yeah maybe it is better that you focus on your studies than music right now.”

“It’s still going to take some time to process everything but starting next week I’ll officially be out of the program then,” I chow down on the rest of the clementine before standing up and going to throw the peels out. I rapidly blink to force the tears back, “I’m staying over at Julie’s house so I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

I quickly head up the stairs towards my room, finally letting the tears fall. Once I’m behind the closed doors I let the tears fall freely while I pick up my guitar case. I bring it over to my bed and open it up. I take out my guitar and make my way towards Luke’s room. Walking in, I quickly grab his guitar and bring it back into mine and set it into my guitar case. I move to wipe the tears from my eyes. This might be a choice but it still hurts. I’ve spent my entire life trying to please my parents and apparently the only way I can do so is by giving up my number one love - something tied so closely with my family but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past year its that family should mean everything. I quickly pick up my case and leave to walk back to Julie’s house.

Masterlist part two

[hashtagartistlife]

and then there were none

Ichigo Kurosaki, college student, gets roped into a dorm game with a long tradition and finds it a little more than he bargained for. Kuchiki Rukia, college student, has never done anything by halves-- and that includes stupid traditional dorm welcoming games. The r.a.s regret the day they placed her knife in his hands.

There was a tumblr post going around that I can no longer find about a welcoming game at an American college dormitory. The basic idea behind it was that everyone in the dorms get a plastic knife with someone else's name on it, and they had to find that person and 'stab' them with the knife (just a simple touch was counted as valid) to 'murder' them. The 'victim' is then out of the game, and they had to hand over their own plastic knife to their 'murderer'. Whoever is on the 'victim's plastic knife was the new victim for the 'murderer'.

My first instinct upon seeing anything vaguely amusing is always 'make it ichiruki'. So here's the fic about it.

(There's two chapters planned, and please don't ask me when the next chapter will be up, it's not high on my priority list. But it WILL come, some day. I don't make it a habit to abandon fic, even though sometimes it seems like I have. Promise.)

___________________________________________________________

So, college dorms were pretty wild. 

For small-town Karakura boy Kurosaki Ichigo, living in a co-ed dorm at a university in America has been nothing short of an eye-opening experience. There are people walking around barefeet in only a towel. Some girl set off the smoke alarm because she was cooking cup noodles in the bathroom at 2am. He’s pretty sure he’s heard his dormmates having sex through the walls on more than one occasion, and the food served at the cafeteria is only edible about half the time. All in all, it’s a little bemusing, but not at all unpleasant, and by the third week of his move he thinks he’s settling in ok. His room is mostly in order, and he’s made at least passing acquaintances with the people on his floor. His English is improving at a frankly astonishing speed, and classes don’t start till next week. He’s figured out which stall in the bathroom spits out the most reliable hot water, and he really thinks he’s got a good handle on this whole ‘dorm living’ thing—

that is, until he gets back to his dorm room one night to find a plastic knife shoved under his door. 

“The fuck…?” he mutters, trying to figure out if this was an American befriending ritual, or maybe someone was just attempting to threaten him (badly)? Did his room look like a trashcan? Did Chad (he thinks that was his name) from room 209 remember what he said about not having a grasp on American cutlery yet and decide to help him in a subtle way? 

He raps on the door next to his, and a muffled voice yells ‘who is it?’

“It’s Kurosaki from 206,” he replies, and the door cracks open to reveal a single brown eye and a strand of auburn hair. 

“Oh, hi, Kurosaki-kun!” Inoue Orihime from 207 was…. an odd girl. She liked putting parsley in her coffee and read astrophysics textbooks for fun. But Ichigo doesn’t remember her ever being this defensive— she’d always been enthusiastic about greeting people, so the way that she refuses to open her door more than an inch is uncharacteristic of her. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, I just got back from the library and there was this knife shoved under my door—”

At this, Inoue screams and slams her door shut; Ichigo is left more than a little bemused. “Inoue? What the hell— it’s only a plastic knife!” 

“I know that, Kurosaki-kun! As if I’m just going to let you win this— but by the way, this is terrible strategy, now I know to avoid you like the plague—”

“Strategy?! Inoue, what the fuck— wait, is this plastic knife meant to mean something? Is this some American etiquette thing? I have no idea what’s going on. Please explain to me what this knife means—”

Inoue opens her door a crack again, and looks at him suspiciously. 

“Wait, so you didn’t hear the murder announcement at breakfast today?” 

“Murder announcement?! Jesus FUCK, who died—”

“Nobody died, Kurosaki-kun, don’t be overdramatic—”

“AS FAR AS MY ENGLISH SKILLS GO, INOUE, MURDER MEANS SOMEBODY DIED—”

“Wow, you really don’t listen to the breakfast announcements at all, do you?” Inoue sounds supremely unimpressed, but at least she opens the door a bit further; except what the hell is she only wearing a towel—?!

“Inoue why the fuck are you only wearing a towel—”

Inoue waves her hand like that’s a negligible detail. “Just got out of the shower, but also murder strategy. You’re immune if you’re naked, and some of the second years recommended this. I’m in this to win, Kurosaki-kun, there’s a whole year’s supply of cup noodles in this for me—”

“Wait, what? Cup noodles?” That got his attention. Anything that scored him a whole year’s supply of free cup noodles was okay in his book. Questionable towel-wearing included. “Now you really gotta explain what’s going on.” 

“I should leave you to rot, one less person to compete against for me.” Inoue purses her lips. “But you were the first one to pour a bucket of water on that fire I started last week, so fine, I’ll let you in on the murder details.” 

“Not a sentence I thought I’d ever hear in my life, but cheers, America,” Ichigo mutters. 

“So basically, murder’s a game that the whole dorm plays every year,” Inoue starts explaining, and Ichigo’s still trying to get over the weirdness of the word murder being used so casually— “and everyone gets these plastic knives with someone’s name written on them, and the idea is you have to stab that person with the knife and ‘’’kill’’’ them. Then you get their knife, and you just keep killing people and collecting knives until you’re the last person left! Hmm, there were a couple of rules, you can’t kill someone in the dining room or their own rooms, and you’re immune if you’re naked, but I think that was it? Anyway. So yeah! That’s what’s going on here!” 

Ichigo squints at his knife in the half-dark of the corridor that, for some reason, has had all its lights screwed out. “Ok, that’s…. Great, I suppose? What happens if I don’t know who the person on my knife is?”

“Then you find out, Kurosaki-kun! This game was ostensibly devised so that we make friends, you know.”

“There are no friends when it comes to a year’s free supply of cup noodles,” Ichigo says, and Inoue claps her hands. 

“Precisely! You’re getting the hang of it now. Ergo, for the next week, I don’t know you, ok? Good luck!” 

Inoue slams her door shut, and Ichigo shuffles back to his room, feeling slightly more enlightened than before. 

But still— 

“Who the hell is Rukia Kuchiki?”

__________________________________________________________

By the second week of Murder, Ichigo’s seen enough naked butts to last him a lifetime. It seems that voluntary nakedness is a vastly preferable fate for many than losing a shot at a year’s supply of free cup noodles, and honestly if that doesn’t sum up the average college student mindset Ichigo doesn’t know what does. (He’d probably be a lot more judgemental about it, though, if he hadn’t spent at least a few hours earnestly contemplating the strategy himself.) 

Thankfully, he and Chad have an alliance of sorts that makes him wearing a towel round the place redundant. He’d enlisted the giant’s help in identifying his would-be target, and after ascertaining that he wasn’t the name on Chad’s knife either (Chad had one Asano Keigo as his victim, Ichigo only knows him as that guy who swallowed a whole tablespoon of cinnamon powder on a dare), the two of them had agreed to watch the other’s back. Chad was set to pull off his first attack tomorrow, but Ichigo still had no clue who or where Rukia Kuchiki was. 

Part of the problem was that the dorm was so friggin’ huge; there were four wings, each with five floors, and each floor had ten rooms. That was 200 potential students he had to parse through to find his victim, and it wasn’t exactly like he could go around asking people if they knew her. Murder had amped hostility on campus up by 300%, and almost nobody stopped for idle chatter anymore.

Whoever had devised this as a way of promoting friendliness and unity on campus was a giant fuckin’ moron. 

“Still no word on Kuchiki?” Chad asks, after another day of paranoia and stalking Asano to make sure the plan goes off without a hitch, and Ichigo shakes his head. 

“Are they even real at this stage? Are we sure I haven’t been given someone who doesn’t exist?” 

“Ghost student?” 

“Fuckin’ potentially? Who the fuck knows with America.”

Chad hides a smile behind his rickety old guitar and starts tuning. “I’ll ask around my bandmates tomorrow, if you’d like.” 

“Naw, s’alright. I don’t want word to get out that I’m looking for them. What kinda giant flashing beacon that says HEY, I’M YOUR POTENTIAL MURDERER, right?” 

“If you say so.” 

“I do.” Because dammit all, Ichigo’s serious about this thing. A whole year’s supply of cup noodles is no joking matter. Speaking of which, he wonders how Inoue is doing with her murders…

_______________________________________________________________

Inoue, as it turns out, is doing swimmingly. While Ichigo has done little more than sit around and twiddle his thumbs, Inoue has already racked up an impressive collection of plastic knives— three, she informs him that night, while cheerfully throwing him a celebratory can of leek soda (Ichigo gingerly sets it down behind her sofa when she's not looking). She was making good headway on her next victim, as well, and if all went according to plan she'd have her fourth knife tomorrow morning—

“But, you know, Kurosaki-kun,” she muses, sipping on her own can of beetroot soda (where did she get these concoctions from!?), “You're awfully cavalier about this whole thing. For all you know, you could be my next victim,but here you are, sitting on my couch. Or do you just not care about cup noodles?”

He snorts. “If you ever got ahold of my knife, I'm pretty sure I'd be dead before we even got to have this conversation.”

“True,” she concedes— credit where credit is due. “So nobody’s popped up to try to kill you yet?”

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p a little. Honestly, that was the only thing making him feel better about his complete inability to murder anyone— the fact that whoever had his knife was having just as much difficulty tracking him down. One week in, and he'd not seen hide nor hair of this Rukia Kuchiki person, and, big dorm or not, her (her? Ichigo assumes it's a girl, though Rukia is very unusual for a Japanese name) elusiveness is getting to be extremely impressive. “But Chad is watching my back for me anyway. I'm covered.”

“Hmm.” Inoue purses her lips. “That's a lot of faith in someone you've only known, for, what, three weeks?”

“Chad is trustworthy,” Ichigo says firmly. He stands and stretches up to the ceiling, stifling a yawn. “And speaking of Chad, I better get to bed. He's ambushing Asano tomorrow, I told him I'd be there for backup.”

Inoue waves. “Good luck to Sado-kun, then. I’m gonna stay up a bit to refine my own dastardly plans.”

He shakes his head and opens the door, peering out into the corridor to make sure the coast was clear. He and Inoue were literally next door neighbours, but you couldn't be too careful these days. “When you win this thing I'm gonna be expecting free noodles from you occasionally. Remember I stopped you from burning down the whole dorms last week.”

“I'll consider it.”

“‘Night, then.”

“Goodnight, Kurosaki-kun. Dream of Rukia Kuchiki tonight!”

“At this stage,” Ichigo mutters, as he slips back into his room, “anything to help me find out who the hell she is.”

_______________________________________________________

Drastic times call for drastic measures. The next morning, after a successful ambush on Asano (Chad is now +1 plastic knife; his new victim is called Yammy Llargo), Ichigo tracks down someone he'd been avoiding ever since his move to America and claps a hand on her shoulder. 

“Hey.” 

Arisawa Tatsuki whirls around and body-slams him into the ground. “Who the fuck do you think you— Ichigo?”

He winces. “Hi.”

Tatsuki puts her hands on her hips and does not offer him any help getting up. “Oh, so you're talking to me now?”

“I just said hi, didn't I?”

“You know, you're such a fucking asshole, did it ever occur in your pathetic little brain to apologise—”

“I'm sorry,” Ichigo mutters sullenly. “Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was also going to college in America, I'm sorry you found out only when you bumped into me at the dorm welcoming party, it's just that we had that whole farewell party for you and we had that touching goodbye and, look it's just awkward that I got a second round admissions letter the very next day, it's like saying bye to a friend and then finding out you're walking the same way to the carpark, ok, it’s embarrassing—”

“Oh my god, you drama queen. Were you ever planning on telling me? Ever? Your best friend since childhood?”

“... I might’ve planned to tell you at the beginning of the next semester by pretending I was on exchange,” he admits. Tatsuki throws her hands up in the air. 

“You were going to avoid me for a whole semester?!”

“Look, I didn't know I’d end up in the same dorm as you, ok? It's a big campus!”

“Un-be-lievable,” she says, turning on a heel and walking away from him. “You know what, keep ignoring me. Don’t hang out around here. I don’t want your incredible loser vibes accidentally rubbing off—” 

“I said sorry, didn’t I? Wait, wait, I had something to ask you!” 

“Sorry doesn’t pay my bills, Ichigo!” 

Ichigo catches up to her and falls into stride. “You don’t even pay bills! You’re on a full scholarship!”

Tatsuki manages a smug smile. “If you’re so jealous, maybe you should have kept up with karate.”

Ichigo grumbles. “Yeah, right, like I had a chance at a physical education scholarship with you in the same dojo.” 

“I’m glad you’re finally acknowledging my superiority—!”

“You beat my ass continuously from when we were six to sixteen, I threw away any pride I had a long damn time ago.” He makes a face at the memory, then shakes his head to refocus. “Anyway, this isn’t why I was here. Listen, have you heard of anyone around here called Rukia Kuchiki—?”

Tatsuki cocks her head to the side at that, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Kuchiki…? Name sounds familiar. Why?”

Ichigo feels his heart speed up in his chest. “What, really? Where did you hear it? Do you know her?” 

And now she was grinning again and— oh, no, Ichigo does not like the look of that smile. “Why do you want to know?” she asks, and the question is laden with suggestion. Ichigo flushes. 

“None of your damn busi— look, it’s not what you think—”

“Aw, my little mama’s boy Ichigo is all grown up, I remember when you used to go crying to your mom for a scraped knee and now you’re chasing after women—” 

“It’s for murder, you absolute pain in the butt! She’s my target!”

Tatsuki bursts out laughing, hearty peals of laughter bouncing off the courtyard walls. “Alright, alright, I get you. I was just teasing, Ichigo, geez. Anyway, the name sounds familiar, but that doesn’t mean I know her. I can’t remember where I’ve heard it before.”

Ichigo deflates as quickly as he’d been riled up. “Are you serious right now—?”

“Hey, you can talk, mister ‘I’m-really-bad-at-remembering-names-and-faces! And yeah, I’m serious. I don’t have a stake in murder anymore. I got killed two days in.”

Ok, that surprises him. He raises a skeptical eyebrow. “What, really? Who the hell did you in?”

“Some girl named Orihime Inoue,” she grumbles, kicking a nearby rock. “Tae-kwon-do black belt, apparently??? She doesn’t even look the type!” 

Ichigo makes a noise of sympathy and understanding. He should have guessed.

“Anyway, now I’m roped into helping her. So I don’t think I’d be able to tell you about Rukia Kuchiki, even if I’d known any more about her. Victims who are murdered have to help their murderer, and all.”

Ichigo frowns. “Wait, those are the rules?”

“That’s what Inoue said.” 

“............ I am about 95% sure that those were not part of murder rules.”

There’s a short silence between the two as they process this.

“...... scary girl,” Tatsuki finally says, in a grudgingly admiring tone.

“I’ll say.” 

The two of them stop their brisk walk in front of a huge pair of doors emblazoned with the words GYM, and Tatsuki waves him off. “Anyway, I gotta go train now. Any further questions before I go?”

Ichigo thinks a bit. “Yeah, why drama queen? Since I’m a guy, shouldn’t it be drama king?”

“Do I look like a linguist? You always scored better than I did at this stupid language. Take it up with whoever your hero was, Willy Shakealot or something?”

“Shakespeare,” he says sharply. “And Shakespeare wasn’t a linguist. In fact, I’m pretty sure linguists really hate him. He made up a lot of weird words and shit.”

“He did? Huh. Didn’t know you were allowed to do that.” 

“You’re not, Shakespeare just gave zero fucks.” Ichigo shrugs and takes a half-step back, raising his hand in a goodbye salute. “Why else do you think he was my hero?”

Tatsuki rolls her eyes. “Whatever. You’re still a loser.” 

“And you’re a bitch. Let me know if you remember anything about Kuchiki.”

“Only if we get to go halves on the cup noodles.” 

“I’ll think about it.”

“Then I’ll think about it, too.” 

That was probably the best he was going to get out of her. “Later, then.”

“If you can bear the embarrassment of us meeting again despite already having said goodbye, then sure.”

Ichigo shakes his head and lets her have that parting riposte. He hadn’t won a single match, verbal or physical, against Tatsuki since they’d been in diapers; he figures, what with the way his luck was going lately, that he wasn’t about to start now. 

__________________________________________________________

Just as Ichigo walks away, a tiny girl brushes past him on her way to the gym. Her black hair falls short and sleek, tickling her jawline and the nape of her neck, and the clean scent of cucumber and mint follows in her wake. She jostles him a little, bumping into his elbow, but Ichigo hardly notices the slight press of her body against his, small and light as she is. She mutters a hasty apology, and disappears into the building before he can formulate a reply. 

Ichigo shrugs and goes on his merry way. 

_______________________________________________________

The third week of murder brings about a calamitous change in the game as Ichigo knows it, due to several factors:

Orihime Inoue kills not one, not two, but three people in quick succession;

Someone finally stages an attack on him, but runs away without having completed the deed, and

Chad dies.

Not literally, of course, but Ichigo has to admit, the figurative loss still hits him pretty damn hard. Chad takes it as stoically as ever, with a shrug and twitch of his eyebrow, and goes back to working on music for his band. 

“Does anything faze you?” Ichigo wonders, after Chad hands his knife over to Inoue (because of course it was Inoue who took him out. Of course). 

“Puppies.”

“Fair enough.” 

“Kittens, too.” 

“... Right.”

“And birds. And rabbits. And small children—”

“So basically, you’re a sucker for anything cute?”

Chad shrugs again, which Ichigo takes as a yes. He crumples up his soda can and lobs it into the bin. 

“You were attacked today, too. Aren’t you worried?”

Ichigo considers it. “A bit, yeah. Sucks that you got taken out of the game. But you can still watch my back when you can, right? I’ll go halves on the noodles with you.” 

Chad nods. “When I can. I might be busier with my band soon, though.” 

“Understandable. I’ll try and keep myself alive in the meantime. At least I know who’s aiming for me, now. Neru? Nel?”

“Neliel Tu Odelschwancke.” 

Ichigo stares. “How the hell do you remember that?”

“She’s in my music theory class. And she has green hair. She’s not hard to miss.”

“Well, good. Should make it easier to see her coming.”

Chad smiles. “Your hair isn’t exactly hard to miss, either.” 

“Aw, shut up. I take back what I said about the noodles.” 

They sit in companionable silence for a while, the sounds of Chad tuning his guitar the only thing between them. Eventually, Chad breaks the ice. 

“And Kuchiki?”

Ichigo huffs a dry laugh. “No fuckin’ clue who or where she is. I’ve even been asking around, now that a lot of people have been dropped from the game by dying. But nobody seems to know who she is, even though everyone says her name sounds familiar. It’s driving me up the goddamn wall.”

“When I first heard the name, I thought that too.”

“What, that it sounds like a name that’s going to drive me up the wall?”

“No, that it sounds familiar.”

At this point, Ichigo is more tired than exasperated. “Yeah, s’what everyone says. Whatever. I’ll either find her or I won’t, right? No point getting annoyed over it. Better just focus on staying alive, because I swear to god if I die before finding out who she is I’ll be pissed.”

“You better hope,” Chad says gravely, “that Inoue doesn’t get her hands on your knife, then.” 

“You, me, and the entire dorm population, mate.” 

________________________________________________________

Ichigo drops by Inoue’s room that evening, just to check he isn’t next on her list. He’s lucky— he’s not. But some poor fucker by the name of Uryuu Ishida is.

“I waited outside his room all day and he didn’t even exit once!” Inoue’s saying, brandishing the knife with his name on it like a conductor directing Beethoven’s Ninth. “What kind of— of social recluse does that?!”

“Damn,” Ichigo replies, ignoring the fact that he did exactly that for days on end during the summer holidays, rereading The Compleat Works of Shakespeare in English and Japanese. “Sounds like a loser.”

“Apparently he’s like— the dorm cryptid,” she says, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Nobody’s— nobody’s really seen him in the flesh. They’re not sure he even exists. They think he’s second-year pre-med and that he was valedictorian of his grade last year, but nobody knows for sure.”

“Inoue, how did you manage to find out all this in the span of a day?” 

She looks at him like he’s insane. “I, uh, talked to people?”

“I talk to people too! But nobody knows who Rukia Kuchiki is. Nobody. Zilch. Zip. Nada. At this point I’m about 98% sure she doesn’t actually exist.”

Inoue sighs pityingly. “Kurosaki-kun, you’ve been talking to students, haven’t you?”

Ichigo’s confused. “Who else would I talk to?”

Inoue just puts a finger to her lips. “Can’t tell you. Trade secret. But really, Kurosaki-kun. There are much easier ways of going about this game, you know.” 

“Fat lot of good that’s going to do me, when you won’t tell me,” he grumbles. He takes another look at the name on her knife— Uryuu Ishida, may he rest in peace— and thanks his lucky stars that it isn’t him on there. “Anyway, I better be off. Good luck with the new guy. Not that you’ll need it.” 

“Good luck with Rukia Kuchiki, because you’ll definitely need it.” 

Hell, did everyone make a secret pact today to take the mickey out of him? Ichigo’s too tired to argue, so he just leaves Inoue to her planning and calls it a night. Maybe he’ll have better luck tomorrow.

____________________________________________________________

It takes Ichigo a few seconds to remember who she is, he’s been so tired lately. 

Green hair, he thinks, absentmindedly, before he remembers his conversation with Chad yesterday and yelps, scooting back a few metres. 

“You— Neliel?”

“That’s me!” His would-be murderer is bright and vivacious, and way too perky for this hour of the morning. Aside from the curious green hair, she’s also got a scar between her eyes and a reddish— birthmark? Tattoo? Ichigo doesn’t know— across the bridge of her nose. “Morning, Ichigo!”

Ichigo’s already halfway across the courtyard by the time she stops him. “Wait! Wait! I’m not here to kill you this morning!”

“Yeah right!” he yells back. “I’m not dying before I find out who the hell Rukia Kuchiki is! Try another morning!” 

“You idiot, I’m already dead! Check the morning lists if you don’t believe me!”

Ichigo stops and whips out his smartphone. “You stay right there,” he says, glaring, and Neliel complies, holding her hands up in a gesture of surrender. He scrolls through the dorm noticeboard, and, sure enough, there is her name: one of the last people to be murdered last night. 

“See? I don’t lie,” she says, reproachful, and Ichigo shoves his phone back into his pocket and approaches her cautiously. 

“What do you want?” 

Neliel shrugs. “I just thought I’d warn you about your new potential murderer? Thought that might be good manners, and all. Normally I wouldn’t bother, but, well. Your new murderer’s…… yeah.”

“My new murderer’s… what?” 

She looks intensely uncomfortable at this. “He’s. Well. He’s…. He’s not a friend, per se, but I’ve known him since we were little and I feel a bit responsible for him— uh, he’s a bit rough sometimes, but he won’t actually kill you. I think. Look, just keep your eyes peeled, ok? Anyway, enough of this depressing talk in the morning. Who’s Rukia Kuchiki? Why are you so keen on meeting her?”

Wow, that was so transparent a topic change that Ichigo’s almost impressed. “No, no, go back to my murderer, what were you saying about him?”

“— so, Rukia Kuchiki, huh, cool name, sounds kinda familiar, wonder where I’ve heard it before—”

“Neliel. You were talking about my new murderer and actual murder in the same breath. This does not give me a lot of reassurance, you feel?”

“—no, wait, actually, Rukia Kuchiki,” she mutters, her brow furrowing. Then her expression clears, and she looks up at him with a bright smile. “Oh! You don’t possibly mean Dia—”

And just as that happens, the lockdown alarms go off. 

_______________________________________________________

The loudspeaker in the middle of the courtyard bursts into life with a crackle of static. 

“Attention all residents. This is not a drill. Please make your way to the nearest lockdown location in an orderly fashion. Attention all residents…”

By the second round of the announcement, both of them manage to unfreeze; Neliel curses and starts to turn away, but Ichigo grabs onto her wrist. 

“Oh shit— I have to go find Donddochakka and Pesche—”

“Wait— Rukia. What were you about to say about Rukia?”

She shakes his restraining hand off with ease. “I’ll tell you later! I have to go find my friends!” 

“No, goddammit! Tell me now! It won’t take you that long!” Ichigo yells, but she’s already disappeared into the throng of people. Ichigo kicks a nearby rock and consults his phone to find his nearest lockdown location— the gym, apparently. He joins the crowd moving slowly in that direction, mind still grappling with Neliel’s last words.

Rukia Kuchiki? Oh! You don’t possibly mean Dia-

Dia? Who the hell was Dia?

But he’d have to deal with that later; he walks into the gym and spots Tatsuki, waving at him from a corner with Inoue. He makes his way towards them. 

“—n’t believe that he still won’t come out of his room, who does he think he is— there are safety regulations in place—” Inoue is saying, fingers curled around the knife that still says Uryuu Ishida. Tatsuki attempts to placate her with a long-suffering expression. 

“Maybe he’d already left before you came— hi, Ichigo.”

“Hello, Kurosaki-kun! And ridiculous— I was there at 6 a.m. in the morning. What sort of self-respecting college student wakes up before then?”

“6 a.m.?! Orihime, that’s. That’s stalking—”

“Stalking’s not stalking if it’s done in the name of free cup noodles—” 

“Stalking is always stalking! God, whatever, we’re continuing this another time. Anyway, Ichigo, did you hear? Some nutjob got onto campus with an actual knife.” 

Ichigo flinches. “What? Jesus. I hope Chad’s ok. Where’d you hear that from?”

“From the r.a. over there.” Tatsuki points with a chin, and indeed, several r.a.s are in deep discussion, all of them with a serious look on their face. “They’re gonna make an announcement about it soon. Apparently it’s a scrawny dude, black hair in a ponytail, wearing a dirty white hoodie and jeans. There’s police cars arriving, shit’s crazy.” 

“I’ll say.” At least it was a knife and not a gun, Ichigo thinks, toying idly with his own plastic knife. He halfheartedly scans the crowd, looking for any unfamiliar faces— surprisingly, he finds that he knows most of them already, by sight if not by name. He wonders if any of them are Rukia Kuchiki, and finds himself hoping that, wherever she was, she was somewhere safe. 

It’d be a bit of a downer if she was actually murdered before he managed to get around to it. 

The gym doors open again to let some of the stragglers in, and Ichigo allows his attention to be turned by the motely crew that walk in: a tall, thin man who is built rather like a stick insect, a hulking guy who looks about as wide as he’s tall, and a smaller, scrawny dude who is wearing nothing but a towel as a fundoshi around his waist (goddammit, Ichigo thought that tactic had died out by the first week). And, almost buried by the mass of bodies around her, a head full of green hair. 

Ichigo blinks, and then he starts pushing through the crowd to get to her. 

“Hey. HEY! NELIEL! WE GOTTA CONTINUE OUR CONVERSATION FROM EARLIER!”

Neliel looks up in his direction, and frantically starts mouthing no at him. Ichigo doesn’t give a shit. He’s going to find out who Rukia Kuchiki is, and he’s going to find out now.

“Don’t give me that crap! You said you’d tell me later! Well, it’s later now, so out with it—”

“No, I swear to god, Ichigo, not now—”

“Ichigo?” The stick insect dude suddenly looks viciously interested, and Neliel claps a hand over her mouth. “As in, Ichigo Kurosaki?”

Neliel shakes her head. Ichigo glares at stick insect dude. 

“If I am, who the fuck are you?”

Nel buries her face in her hands, and stick insect dude smiles— and shit, can people even smile that wide? Ichigo feels a chill run down his spine. 

“Your death,” stick insect dude says, and he lunges. 

Scrawny dude, black hair in a ponytail, wearing a dirty white hoodie and jeans.

Ichigo sees the glint of a knife held in his hands, and suddenly realises he’s going to die—

“No!”

That is, until a short, black-haired blur shoots out from the crowd and jumps in front of the knife meant for him. 

It sinks in to the hilt, and Ichigo watches the girl’s eyes widen in shock with a horror that robs him of his own voice. 

________________________________________________________

Both girl and assailant crumple to the ground, and Ichigo’s frantic with worry; he reaches the girl first, hoists her up onto his lap, expecting blood. She was so small; what the hell was she thinking, jumping out in front of him?! She coughs, great big hacking things that he wouldn’t expect from someone her size, and Ichigo holds her around her shoulders, worried out of his mind. 

“Are you ok? Hold on— where did he stab you? Are you bleeding—”

In response, the girl wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and lunges at the felled assailant. 

“You missed, you cowardly shitstain, I don’t know what you’re doing on a campus but you’re going to rot in jail for this—” 

“Young lady—! Enough! Back away and let the cops deal with this—”

“Nnoitra! I told you to leave that stupid knife behind, you idiot—”

“Ow! OW! Don’t just fucking watch, Nel, get this crazy woman off me, what the fuck—” 

“ENOUGH!” The r.a.’s have made their way over by now, and manage to separate the two brawling figures; stick insect dude is being held back by Nel and her two other friends, while the girl is being restrained by an r.a. Ichigo sits on the floor between them, feeling like he just missed something. 

“Wait, hang on, what’s— what just happened— didn’t you get stabbed?” he asks the girl, who is looking very un-stabbed. She glares at stick insect dude. 

“He missed,” she spits, and stick insect dude howls in indignation. 

“I did not miss!” he hisses, and throws a crumpled plastic knife onto the ground. “I had him! I would have had him straight in the gut if it hadn’t been for you jumping in for your boyfriend!!! The fuck, dude! This is sabotage! What have you got against me winning cup noodles?!”

Ichigo stares at the plastic knife bearing his name, crushed like an empty aluminium drink can, and slowly starts piecing the incident together. 

“Wait— so you're—”

“And now I've lost the element of surprise. You scrawny little bitch,” Nnoitra snaps, and Ichigo thinks, a little wildly, that he had no business going around calling anyone else scrawny. He eyes the limp black hair and dirty white hoodie of his assailant and attempts to make sense of the chaos around him. 

“You’re— you had my knife—?”

Nnoitra rolls his eyes. “What, can’t you see? You impaired or some shit?” 

“Oh my god, Nnoitra,” Neliel groans. “Can you keep your big fat mouth shut for half a second—”

“Oh,” comes a small sound from the black-haired girl, and Ichigo turns to see her slowly flushing crimson. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Nnoitra mocks, before Neliel smacks him in the head. “Ow! Nel, you bitch, she is clearly the one in the wrong here, would you knock it off—”

“Well, what the hell was I supposed to think?!” the girl demands, now completely red but with an indignant expression on her face. “You matched the description for the armed intruder perfectly! Not to mention, who plays Murder like they're actually trying to kill someone?!”

“This is why I was trying to warn you,” Nel says to Ichigo in an exasperated aside. “And those are just his last set of clean clothes.”

There's a short silence as everyone digests her words, Ichigo and the girl both eyeing Nnoitra’s hoodie like they seriously doubted Nel’s definition of ‘clean’.

The girl clears her throat and speaks for all of them. “Gross.”

Nnoitra flings himself against Nel’s restraint. “You bitch, I'll fucking cut you up—”

“Enough!” an adult finally makes their way onto the scene, and everyone looks at the harried professor with varying levels of relief. The girl, in particular, lights up at the sight of him. 

“Professor Ukitake—!”

“What’s going on here?” he asks in a tired sort of way, and the r.a.s hasten to answer him. 

“A minor altercation— you know our dorm tradition, Murder—”

“Ah, that damn game,” he mutters, looking extremely distracted. His gaze sweeps over all of them, assessing the situation. “Nobody’s actually hurt, then?”

“No sir,” the girl answers, prompt. The professor nods at her, before turning to the r.a.s for the full story. By now, the police have made it into the evacuation area as well; the three parties convene for a minute or two, discussing the details in hushed voices, before they all turn to Nnoitra and Nel.

“In any case, Mr. Gilga,” Professor Ukitake says apologetically, “although it may be coincidental, it is true that you fit the description for the armed intruder rather perfectly, I’m afraid. The police would like you to accompany them to the station, just for a little while, until the intruder situation is solved. If that’s ok with you—?” 

“Wha— the hell it is! I was just tryna murder Kurosaki over there—” 

The professor winces. “Mr. Gilga….. That’s really not helping your cause there.” 

“Oh, c’mon, it’s just a game—” 

“I told you,” Nel interrupts witheringly. “I told you to leave your damn knife behind, didn’t I? Just go with the officers for now, Nnoitra. It’s just til they catch the real intruder, and quite frankly, I don’t trust you around Ichigo right now.” 

“Don’t be a sore loser, Nel, just because I murdered you last night—” 

Two policemen place a hand each on Nnoitra’s shoulders and escort him out, Nnoitra complaining the whole time but not daring to retaliate. Nel shakes her head and makes an apologetic face in the direction of the smaller girl. “God, I told him… sorry about all this, Di. I might go with him just to make sure he doesn’t get himself arrested… you really alright? Not hurt anywhere?” 

“Who do you think I am?” the girl scoffs. “I’m fine. Never did understand why you’re friends with him, though.”

Nel grimaces. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder that, too. Anyway, I’ll see you later at the gym, we can talk about this then.” 

“Tell your stick insect friend not to lunge at people with knives in the future, whether they’re plastic or not.” 

“Will do. Bye!” with another apologetic half-wave, Neliel and her two other friends take off after Nnoitra. Ichigo, still feeling somewhat bemused by the proceedings, finally turns and manages to get a good look at his…. saviour(?), for lack of a better word. 

She’s short. That’s his first impression, the fact that she is so goddamn short and good lord, she might actually, literally be just half his size, if the way the top of her head only comes up to his chest is any indication. Aside from the height (or lack thereof), she seems fairly nondescript: short black bob, black leggings and a t-shirt with a flannel tied around her waist. She notices him staring and holds out a hand. 

“Diana. We could have met in less embarrassing circumstances, but I guess as first meetings go ‘jumped in front of a knife for you’ isn’t a bad start. You alright?” 

Ichigo takes the proffered hand and is promptly surprised by the firmness of her grip. “Fine. I feel like I should be the one asking you, though. You're the one that got stabbed.”

Diana rolls her eyes. “Please. As if anything wielded by a guy that skinny would ever be able to hurt me.” She grins, all teeth, and whoa, Ichigo may have to reconsider that first assessment of her. He’s suddenly flustered, red dusting the skin over his cheekbones as he tries to come up with a response. She has the bluest eyes he's ever seen. 

Thankfully, the professor from earlier spares him. “Miss Kuchiki!” he calls, and Diana turns— he wants to have a few words with her, it seems, and she gestures to him that she'd be over soon. She turns back to Ichigo to say goodbye. 

“Well, take care, I guess I'll see you around--"

Something clicks in his brain like lightning, and he catches her by the wrist. 

“Wait. Kuchiki—? Like, Kuchiki as in Byakuya Kuchiki Kuchiki? Kuchiki as in the Kuchiki Wing in the Main Library Kuchiki? As in one of the shareholders of our university Kuchiki? That Kuchiki?”

“Shut up, fool, not so loud—!” She snatches her wrist back and looks around worriedly, though by now people’s attentions have moved on from them. She answers him in a resigned tone. “Yes, that Kuchiki. He’s my brother. It's not something I like to advertise.” 

Ichigo’s mind is teeming like a nest of ants. “Why— no, never mind that question. Diana’s not a Japanese name, though--"

“It's my English name, obviously,” she snaps. “If you wanted my full name it is Rukia Kuchiki. Why are you so interested in my name anyway? Shouldn't you at least tell me yours first?”

A slow grin spreads over his face; the kind of grin that Tatsuki had once told him made him look like the supervillain in a bad shounen. He takes a step in closer to her, and Diana— Rukia, irritated, stands her ground. 

His hand slips into his pocket. 

“I'm Ichigo Kurosaki,” he tells her. 

In one fluid motion, he pulls out his own knife and taps her with it on the shoulder. Those blue eyes of hers widen first in disbelief, and then in outrage. 

“You— no. No, you can't possibly— you couldn't!!”

“Nice to meet you, Rukia Kuchiki,” he smirks, flipping the plastic knife over to display her name. 

Rukia closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose, like she has a headache coming on. 

Then she opens her eyes, takes a deep breath, and socks him in the face. 

[purplesurveys]

1250

Do you own any Funko Pop! figurines?  No. I had a brief period where I wanted to start collecting them SO BAD and often went to toy stores to gawk at the figures I felt like I needed to have; but I grew out of that and I don’t even really give Funkos a second glance whenever I see them anymore haha.

How many cats and dogs have you had as pets in your lifetime?  We’ve had one cat and two dogs.

Can your mom and/or dad play any instruments, or how about anyone else in your family?  My dad can play the guitar; he just absolutely never shows it off, not even if you lay out ten guitars in front of him. I think my mom played the piano as a kid.

Have you ever colored in an adult coloring book as a stress reliever?  Yeah, it was my coping mechanism from a few years ago. I don’t do it nearly as often anymore, but I still have my coloring books and pencils stored in my room just in case I randomly want to get back to the hobby.

Can you crack crab legs without a tool?  No, I ask my parents or grandparents to do it haha.

How many light sources are in the room you’re in?  There are two, but I only use one. I never switch on my main bedroom light as I hate how brightly white it is.

What’s your favorite thing to put on bagels?  I never get bagels so I don’t really have a clue what I prefer on them.

Who’s your favorite director?  Stanley Kubrick.

Bats: cute or gross?  Neither side of the spectrum; I just don’t think about bats.

What was the last really intense pain you felt?  I got a particularly vicious scratch from Cooper around a month ago that left a deep cut on my thigh. The scar is still visible and I think it’s going to remain that way for a while haha I don’t see it fading out anytime soon.

Would you rather vacation by a beach or a lake?  Both sound extremely pleasant but I’ll take the lake trip because I’ve never seen one, or stayed near one.

How would you feel about traveling abroad alone?  I honestly feel like it’s going to be that way for me moving forward. I’m okay with it, though. I feel like it would be very calming and empowering to be able to explore the world on my own.

What is your father's middle name?  He doesn’t have a second name.

Where did your last kiss take place?  Outside my house, by her car.

Which movie villain do you find the most terrifying?  I haven’t encountered anyone yet that truly terrified me.

If you married your favorite celebrity what would your last name be?  Kim, hahaha.

Do you stick your tongue out often in pictures?  I wouldn’t say so. I pull up the peace sign most often.

Which one of your family members are you closest to?  My sister and my eldest cousin on my mom’s side.

Would you rather have name brand shoes or name brand clothes?  Shoes. They stand out more.

Are you a good liar?  Yes. Doesn’t mean I enjoy lying and take advantage of that skill as much as possible.

Are you proud of your parents?  Sure.

If you could get backstage tickets to ANY concert - which would you pick?  Paramore. I think Hozier would be neat as fuck too.

Which is better: orange or grape soda?  I don’t like soda, so neither.

Was the last thing you ate hot or cold?  They are meant to be consumed while hot.

Who was the last person in your house who isn’t family?  Angela and Hans.

What color was the last swimsuit you wore? Pink.

Can you remember the last song you listened to?  I just tuned into a random lo-fi playlist, so I’m not familiar with the tracks and the artists who made them.

Have you ever been dumped really harshly?  Yes.

Can you do a back flip, or anything else of that sort?  Nope.

Do you have any exes you can’t stand anymore?  To a considerable extent.

What happened to cause you to feel that way about them?  She is extremely selfish and the biggest coward I’ve ever met.

Are you more of a phone or a computer person?  Laptop.

Do you have a job, and if so, where do you work?  Yeah, I work at a PR firm.

If not, do you want one?   

Do any medical afflictions run in your family? I know hypertension is kind of a thing on my mom’s side, but I don’t know if there are any other conditions I should know about. 

What’s your favorite Mexican dish?  Burritos and enchiladas.

Have you ever been to a professional sports game?  No, just collegiate-league ones.

Do you prefer pads, tampons or something else?  I use pads. I’ve never used a tampon or any other product, so there’s no basis for me to make a comparison and establish preferences.

Have you ever ordered a specially made cake from a cake shop? Yeppp, I got a customized cake for my birthday.

What months were you and your siblings born in?  My brother and I were born in April; my sister was born in September.

What did you have for dinner last night?  Barbecue chicken.

Have you ever had sex in/on a vehicle?  In, yes. Do people have sex ON cars??????

Do you do anything to groom your eyebrows?  I will shave extremely occasionally. Otherwise no, I don’t touch them.

Has your town ever flooded?  This time of the year, always.

Have you ever played at the McDonald’s play place?  Yup. I preferred Burger King’s playplace, though; it was lesser-known so there were fewer kids I was forced to play with.

Have you ever taken a picture of snow?  I’ve never even seen it.

Do you cry easily?  I can.

Are you happy with where you live?  It’s quiet and safe, which is nice; but I think at this point I would be a lot happier and would be able to grow a lot if I moved to a big city.

Do people ever mistake you for being a different race?  Not really; but as a general thought, it is an extremly big pet peeve when people only take into account East Asians when the topic of Asia comes up.

Do you hate the last person you kissed?  I don’t hate her. But I can’t stand her.

What genre is your favorite movie?  Drama, romance, a hint of comedy.

Who was the last person you were in a car with?  My mom and my siblings.

Do you like the picture on your license/I.D. card?  Yeah haha. I was allowed to smile on my license, so at least my photo doesn’t look gloomy.

When was the last time somebody hit on you?  Hasn’t happened in a while.

Was the last person you met a male or female?  For the first time? She’s a girl.

What brand is your underwear?  I don’t remember the name anymore.

What’s your favorite Thanksgiving food?  I don’t celebrate that.

Do you have a TV in your room?  Nah. I don’t really watch the TV anymore, and using the living room TV to watch YouTube videos is enough for me.

Are any of your electronics charging right now?  My laptop is constantly plugged in. My speaker is also charging at the moment.

What was the last video game you played?  I have no clue, it’s been forever.

What’s the biggest promise someone’s ever made to you? Did they keep it?  That they’ll always stay. I didn’t make her keep it; I was the one who moved on.

Google, Bing, or Yahoo?  Google.

What was the last song you had on repeat?  It’s been a while since I set a song on repeat. Maybe Film Out? If not that, maybe UGH!

Who is your favorite person to watch on YouTube?  Rhett and Link or the Try Guys.

How many college degrees do you want?  I’m okay with the one I have.

Can you wink?  Yeah, but I’m substantially better at winking with my right eye than my left.

Do you own any jerseys?  I don’t think so.

Have you ever tried to snort Pixie Stix as a child, or even an adult?  No. I don’t even think I’ve had it ever.

Do you like going to baby showers? Do you go only for the cake?  I’ve never been to a baby shower. Not a thing here.

Has there ever been a time in your life, you felt sexually undecided?  I still am. I’m not bothered about it, though. Sex and who I have it with aren’t things I spend much time thinking about.

Do you think tattoos and piercings are sexy on the opposite sex?  Depends. It certainly suits some people better.

Do people ever ask you to do things they’re too short to accomplish?  No...I am the short person asking for help :)))))))

What color are the headphones you have at this moment in time?  I have black ones but I literally just took them off five minutes ago so I can transfer my music to the speaker I mentioned earlier.

Ever choked severely on something during lunch at your school?  I don’t think so.

Do you eat more vegetables or fruits? What’s your favorite fruit/veggie?  VEGETABLES. I love green beans, eggplants, and bell peppers the most. I can’t stand fruits, with the one exception of avocados.

What would you say is the color of your favorite bra?  Black.

Is anyone in your family a firefighter? Who is it anyway?  I don’t think so. 

What do you usually buy when you go to the dollar store?  We don’t have a dollar store, and that should be self-explanatory hah.

Ever peed in the pool? Be honest!  God no. That’s gross.

When you’re older, what kind of house do you want to live in?  Something modern and minimalist.

Where do you want to get married?  Idk, I’m pretty traditional when it comes to this. Booking an events place would be ideal for me; the only thing on my wishlist would probably be the fact that I hope my wedding could be held somewhere cold, like Baguio.

Do you plan on having both your parents at your wedding?  Uh yeah, sure.

What is your favorite childhood TV show? Spongebob.

Honestly, do you like school?  I liked it when I was granted more freedom to do things my own way, which is to say I really enjoyed college. But I didn’t mind school for the most part, especially since it meant being able to see my friends everyday.

Last thing that made you cry?  I was listening to a song that resonated a lot with me at that moment.

Honestly, are you keeping a big secret right now?  Nothing too big or life-changing to someone if they ever found out.

Last person you took a walk with?  Idk, that’s not an activity I tend to do with other people.

Have you ever liked someone who didn’t like you back? No.

Who was the last person to actually pick you up in the air?  My ex, probably.

Does any part of your body hurt?  My shoulders are constantly hurting these days. I really need to buy a new work chair :( 

If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to change a regret what would you do?  Million bucks. Easiest choice.

Can you keep a secret?  Sure.

Your favorite romantic movie?  The Proposal.

How do you feel about Valentine’s Day? I honestly like it, and I celebrated it when I was able to.

Who was the last person you took a picture with?  My sister and I took a silly selfie earlier.

Do your jeans have rips, tears, and holes in them?  Some of the pairs I have do, but they’re meant to be ripped jeans.

Do you celebrate 420? Nope.

Have you ever kicked a vending machine?  I don’t think so. I barely use them.

How do you eat Oreos?  I just bite into them. No patience do the whole twist-lick thing. Sometimes I’ll dip them in milk, if we happen to have some.

Do you wear your shoes in the house?  That is a big no-no.

Would you survive in prison?  I might not.

Ever been to Georgia?  No for both state and country.

Do you get your hair cut every month?  No, just once a year. Which reminds me, I finalllllllly had my hair trimmed yesterday hahaha I got sick of my long-ass hair, which was starting to feel like a bitch to maintain. It’s only up to my shoulders now.

Current relationship in detail.  I am single...nothing much to share about it. I get to enjoy to spend my money on myself, which is my favorite part about it hahaha.

If you were kicked out of your house, who would you call/go to?  My grandma.

List things you spend money on in an average week.  Food delivery and nearly every week, merch. I’ve considerably calmed down on the latter, though.

Rate each of your sexual partners (if any) from 1-10.  I’ve only had one...I guess I’d give her a 9. A bit TMI but the oral could’ve been a little better.

Post the last FB group/page that you joined.  I was looking for FB groups for a work deliverable, but I had to join one of them to give it a better scan. I don’t remember which group it had been, though.

Would you parents be mad if you were in a relationship?  No. If they did, I would be very surprised they would still be meddling with a 23 year old’s life.

Think of the last person you had sex with. Do you think they’ve slept with anyone else since they last slept with you?  I’m sure.

Is there someone that you believe you will always be attached to?  I’m not now, so no.

What board games are you good at?  I’m quite terrible at all of them, tbh. It’s why I’ve always preferred to simply watch over my friends when they do play board or card games.

Is there a sport/hobby you keep thinking about taking up, but that you’ve never quite gotten around to starting?  Wakeboarding. Do you think pranks like egging/toilet-papering someone's house are funny or immature?  Immature.

Do you think “sleeve tattoos” are a good idea?  I’m not totally obsessed with the idea, but they do look good on people.

Is there anything in particular that your parents argue about? What? I don’t know. 100% of the time they are caused by my grown-ass mother throwing a petty-ass tantrum, so I could not care less about the things they fight about. 

Do you ever actually read the “Terms and Services” when you sign up for websites and such?  Nah.

If you have a handheld games console (a DS or GameBoy, for example), how often do you use it?  I haven’t used the Switch since last year.

Your phone is ringing. It’s the person you fell hardest for, what do you say?  Pick it up and wait for them to talk.

If your best friend was kicked out, would your parents let him/her live with you?  Probably not, knowing my mom – but I would do absolutely anything else to help.

Are you afraid of falling in love?  I guess you can say that, yeah. I’m not headed towards that feeling again anytime soon, though.

Is there anybody you wish you could be with right now?  I wish I was with my friends now.

Have you ever kissed someone & wished you didn’t?  No.

Did you get kissed last night?  Nope.

Do you enjoy going through a carwash?  Idk, I’ve never taken my car to one. That’s something my parents take charge of.

How did you get most of your scars?  Cooper.

Ever had to take an inkblot test? I haven’t.

Have you ever been in trouble for something you honestly didn’t do?  Sure. Like back in high school when a group of friends had been caught cheating on our chemistry exam – and we were told that the entire batch would be given a formal warning. I was on the minority side that found the entire situation hilarious, because I know they wouldn’t dare mar the records of everyone else who took that stupid test honestly.

Have you ever seriously slapped someone in anger?  My brother, only because he put his hands on me first.

What/who woke you up this morning?  Just me.

Who was the last person to be in your bedroom besides you?  My mom, who always goes in there without knocking/warning.

What’s one of your locked text messages?  I don’t lock my texts and I’m not sure if that’s an available feature on my phone.

Have you ever finished a game of Monopoly?  I don’t even know how that game works lol.

Is there anyone you know who’s in any way paralyzed?  Yes.

The truth all comes out when someone is drunk, true?  I mean for the most part, yeah. It’s easier to be honest with a few drinks in you. 

When was the last time you felt disappointed in yourself?  Continued from the other day. Last week when I forgot about a virtual meeting and attended it 15 minutes after it started.

How about feeling disappointed in someone else?  Last Friday when I had to watch my dad treat a service crew member like shit.

For you, do you commonly feel more jealousy or envy?  Envy, I think. I don’t really feel jealous.

Do you rely on the heads/tails flipping of a coin sometimes for decisions?  Nope, but close. I’ll do eenie-meenie sometimes haha

Do you have any specific chores you do around the house?  Nothing I’m required to do but sometimes I’ll offer to wash the dishes or fold laundry.

For you, does comfort or fashion come first in dressing?  It’s like 70% fashion, 30% comfort. Looking nice makes me feel more comfortable lol.

Have you had two friends that absolutely hated each other?  Not each other; the dislike was one-sided. Gabie hated Andi for whatever reason, which in hindsight already should’ve been a red flag.

Do you like Laffy Taffy?  No, I’ve never had one.

Do you prefer electric or manual pencil sharpeners?  Manual, only because I’ve never seen, much less use, an electric one.

Are your biceps at all noticeable?  Nah.

Have you ever seen a walrus?  It’s possible, but I don’t have very good memories of it if I have seen one.

Did you ever have one of those Easy Bake ovens as a kid?  Not a popular toy here.

Does your bathroom have a theme to it?  It doesn’t. I think that would be a little tacky tbh.

From inside of your house, how many doors lead outside?  Three. We have doors in the kitchen, dining room, and our main door by the living room.

Are there a lot of trees in your yard?  Not really.

Have you ever liked someone that treated you like crap?  Yes.

Have a best friend?  Yup.

Does it bother you when your best friend does stuff without you?  No? That’s pretty petty. Both Angela and Andi have big circles of friends and that would be stressful on my end if I made a fuss every time they hung out with anyone that isn’t me lol.

Is there a secret you’ve never told your parents?  A bunch. I don’t count them as confidantes.

Does anyone hate you? It’s possible but I don’t care enough to want to know.

What’s the one thing you regret more than anything?  Not breaking up with Gabie earlier, even though all the red flags were there.

Do you remember important dates?  For the most part, yeah.

What’s some lyrics from a song that means a lot to you?  “Dream, may all of creation be with you til the end of your life Dream, wherever you are, will welcome you Dream, may your trials end in full bloom Dream, though your beginnings might be humble, may the end be prosperous.”

Who gives the best advice?  Andi. They’re able to tell me advice I don’t want to hear but am supposed to be hearing, which I appreciate.

Who do you usually see in your dreams? :)  It’s a random cast every time.

What type of cake did you last eat?  It was carrot cake with a really good cream cheese frosting.

How many of your friends are gay or bisexual?  Almost all of them are...it’s easier to count friends who are straight.

What’s your favorite type of sandwich?  Anything with pulled pork in it tbh.

When was the last time someone asked you out? Did you accept or decline?  I’ve never been asked out.

Do you like The Offspring?  I know a couple of songs but I definitely can’t call myself a fan.

One pillow or two?  Two.

Do you like Mad Libs?  I’ve never tried playing it.

Are you suicidal?  Not lately. I haven’t been for a while, actually. I’m really happy about that.

Where do your grandparents live?  My paternal grandparents live in the south. My maternal grandma lives in the village right next to ours haha, so not far away at all.

Do you cut yourself?  Yeesh. Can’t questions like this come with a trigger warning? Anyway, no I haven’t in a while as well.

What is your pet’s name?  Kimi and Cooper.

Have you ever been to Canada? No, but I'd love to visit. < Same!

Aren’t babies overrated?  I think they are overrated in a sense that everyone always seems to want one of their own, but the circle gets extremely smaller when it comes to those who actually have the capacity to take proper care of an infant.

Have a built-in pool in your backyard?  No.

Ever won yourself a stuffed animal? Sure, in like claw games and whatnot.

Ever had someone else win you a stuffed animal?  No. I don’t really like stuffed toys lol.

Ever been to a circus?  Nope.

Ever shot animals? I have not.

Do you consider yourself intelligent?  I guess I’m booksmart more than anything else. I had good grades and can handle myself in arguments and debates...but I have my weaknesses in other aspects too, like street smarts lol.

Have you ever run away from home?  I had a period when I wanted to, but never pushed through with it.

Do you put family first, friends, relationships, school, or something else?  Work > friends > family.

What’s something you’ve stood up for in the past?  I always shoot my mom a glare as if to say “be careful of the line you’re crossing” whenever she makes a homophobic, sexist, or racist remark.

What’s something you worked extremely hard to get?  The healthy and stable mental disposition I find myself in these days. I would never give it up for anything ever again.

Are you satisfied with your body image?  I mean not fully, but I also don’t have any complaints.

Have you ever been labeled negatively or otherwise been called something extremely derogatory?  I’ve been called a bitch by this girl that was just a terror to be classmates with back in middle school. She was known to a big war freak and had her fair share of behavioral/anger issues, so it didn’t really affect me once I knew I was her next target. I didn’t encounter her again until college when we ended up attending the same university, and she’s changed a lot for the better.

Have you ever seriously taken advantage of someone or been taken advantage of?  The former, no. Yes to the latter.

Have you ever been seriously ill?  My fever last year really felt like the end of me lmao, so I guess yeah. 

Have you ever befriended a former enemy?  She wasn’t an enemy per se, but I just found myself immensely irritated by Sofie during our first few meetings; but then she ended up being one of my best friends for a time

If you’re not religious, would you ever pray as a last resort? If you are religious, do you often pray for other people?  I did in the past. I wouldn’t do so these days.

Have you ever dated someone, then after you dated they came out of the closet or switched (for lack of a better word) sexual orientation?  That hasn’t happened to me.

Has a boy/girl ever walked a ridiculous distance just to see you? How about vice versa?  I think once? My ex was brewing a surprise for me for Valentine’s Day last year and to cut the long story short, she essentially walked a crazy long distance in my school to make the surprise a success. My university is huge and even I prefer to take my car whenever I have to go from one building to another, so I definitely saw the effort she had put in.

When was the last time you felt really uncomfortable?  Right now. It’s really humid and my electric fan isn’t really doing anything to curb the heat :/

Is there anything that your mom is really known for as to how she is as a person?  She is very uptight.

Who have you been talking to the most today?  My co-workers, albeit virtually.

Are you nosy?  Nah. I won’t really press and will wait for people to open up.

What’s the meanest thing you have done to a friend?  I don’t do mean things to my friends.

If your ex called you crying, what would it most likely be about?  Fuck if I know. Her pride is way up in the sky for her to do something like this.

Who was the best kisser out of all the people you have kissed?  I’ve only kissed one person.

Have you ever been told that you have an annoying laugh?  I don’t think so. It would be etched in my head if I was ever told this.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #425

“evolution repressed by our backwards contest  /  breeding our torrential demise as we come to this edge”

Serious question, peanut butter or nutella? I think Nutella is a godsend, but I use peanut butter waaaaay more often. We don't even really buy Nutella because I will destroy the jar. Do you prefer baked potatoes or mashed potatoes? Baked. What is your oldest sibling’s middle name? Kathryn. I think. Do you like breadsticks? I just like bread, man. What are your favorite things to spend money on? Tattoos, uuuuugggghhhhh <3 Which would you rather have a new puppy or kitten? Neither, really. Most puppies drive me insane (even though they're cute as everliving fuck), and I don't want another cat. Mom actually talked about getting another, but I really just want my one boy. Roman would get SO jealous, anyway. I enjoy just having my baby. How old will you be on your next birthday? 26. Yikes. Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? As "the fat one," I can be sometimes. I would say though that more often than not, it's sort of whatever to me because I'm a human that has to eat. When you opened your eyes this morning, what were your first thoughts? I thought I slept way later than I actually did. What is one thing in the room you’re in that reminds you of somebody? My stuffed meerkat Rebel. Jason got it for me for my first birthday that we were together. Could you ever be friends with somebody who was homophobic? Never again. I was once able to think "agree to disagree," but sometimes by doing so, you're siding with evil by not enforcing what is more than just a belief. It should come with being a human. Also given my own sexuality, it would be a slap in the face to me. Would you ever want to be a supermodel, or date one? Hell no. I'd date one though, if they were modest about their position. Honestly, have you ever made fun of somebody so bad they cried? Wow, no. Honestly, would you rather be complimented on your looks or intelligence? Quite frankly, nowadays, my appearance. I need it. My self-confidence is so far below "shit." Have you ever purchased a pregnancy test, for yourself or otherwise? Nope. You can get one thing, anything, for free right now. What do you pick? Why? Hm. I know I talk about it a lot, but it would still probably be a 40 gallon terrarium for Venus. She needs - and deserves - it. Honestly, have you ever danced naked? NOOOOOOOO. What was the first illegal thing that you did? Did you get caught? Downloaded music. My mom eventually found out, but didn't care much. What is the home page on the computer you’re on? Google. Do you like to write poetry? I do, but I haven't done it in a while. :/ Are your ears pierced? Yes. If so, were they pierced with a piercing gun, or with a sterile needle? Piercing gun. Which, by the way, do not do. There are many more risks with a piercing gun versus a needle by a professional. Do you wear makeup regularly? I never do. Did you eat cereal for breakfast today? No. I've been on a bagel kick lately. When was the last time you tripped over something? Last night, actually. The rug in the living room was slightly turned up, and I tripped in the dark. I didn't actually fall, thankfully. Any obsessive-compulsive tendencies? I'm diagnosed with OCD. I experience more ruminations and intrusive thoughts more than obsessive behaviors, though. Who was the last person you yelled at? Probably Mom. Why did you yell at them? I don't remember. Favorite type of apple? I like pink lady apples. I really enjoy any, so long as they're crisp. Ever seen live horse racing? No. To be totally honest, I don't really like the concept of it. Motivating a horse to run by hurting it doesn't exactly seem moral... How about live greyhound racing? No. What’s one thing, besides the obvious, that you couldn’t live without? The Internet, haha. Have you ever touched a giraffe? No. What does your mom call you? Britt. What stresses you out the most in life? I really don't think I could pick a top one. There are so many. Do you play any PC games? What is your favorite? Yeah. Y'all probably know WoW is my favorite. If you were pregnant, how would you tell the father? Well, that would depend on the circumstances. Did we want a baby? Was it a bad surprise, a happy surprise? I can't answer this with just one idea. What’s the hardest level you can play on Guitar Hero? I used to be able to slam out Expert easily with only very few songs I had to play on Hard, but now it's been YEARS. I've played less than once in a blue moon, and my skill's definitely faded some. It really depends on the song. What ever happened with you and your first boyfriend? He couldn't handle my depression anymore. What’s your favorite country song? "When The Stars Go Blue" by Tim McGraw, probably. What is the worst thing a former boyfriend/girlfriend has done to you? Fail to communicate what he was feeling with me and then make a dashing break for it very, very abruptly after three and a half years. It put me past a state of shock, but trauma with how no less than obsessed I was with him. What were you for Halloween last year? I didn't dress up. :/ I wish I had the money and motivation alike to. Are you feeling guilty for something? I always will. Are you usually quiet or loud? Quiet. How many hours do you spend on the computer a day? Like... uh... all of them, oof. What is the show that you watched when you were little, and you still do? Meerkat Manor. Do your siblings text you? Not really. Do you want a small or big wedding? Small. Have you ever searched for your own house on Google Earth? Not the house I currently live in, but I have before. Who is your ex dating/talking to? I don't know. Ever kissed someone who smokes? No. Does it take a lot for someone to annoy you? Frankly, no. Do you own your own computer? This laptop, anyway. Did you ever have to share a room with one of your siblings? Yes, with my younger sister as a kid and pre-teen. What noises in the room you’re in, do you hear at the moment? I hear the video I'm watching, as well as my fan. Have you ever dated someone with longer hair than yours? Yes. What’s the biggest upcoming event for you? Nothing. Not like that's a surprise. What do you typically order from Wendy’s? Son of the Baconator. @_@ Have you ever been given a lapdance by an actual stripper? No. Those are so awkward to me. What do you love most about yourself? I don't know these days. Have you ever received a hickey from the last person you kissed? No. What are you doing right now? This survey and re-watching John Wolfe play Outlast 2. What’s bothering you right now? I'm immensely nervous about tomorrow. I have my first (and I pray the fuck to God not only) session with my new personal trainer then, and I'm terrified by how my body and my mental fortitude is going to react. Y'all have no fucking idea JUST how out of shape I am, and the muscles in my legs seem basically non-existent by now. I have to do something about my health, though, and I'm determined to make this shit work. More than determined. I know the first day is going to be hard, but I need to do this more than I can explain. What was the last thing you drank? ... What great fucking timing, I have a can of Mountain Dew, lol... That's another thing that needs to change. I've gotta stop the emotional and boredom-eating and chill the fuck out with soda. Be honest, do you like people in general? Quite frankly, no. There are plenty of people I love and think are amazing, of course, but I think I lean towards humanity being too shitty to like "in general." Do you want your tongue pierced? I miss my snake eyes. :/ That was suuuuch a cute piercing. I just had to take it out for the safety of my teeth. I kept accidentally clamping down on one of the balls when eating, and it would cause tiny fractures. Do you change your phone background a lot? No. Have you ever made someone so mad that they broke something? No. Have you ever been strip searched? No. Do you have a funny last name? Does anyone make fun of it? It's not funny-sounding, no, I just think it's too manly for me to enjoy as part of my name. Ever have a drug overdose? What did you OD on exactly? Yes. Oddly enough, I don't remember what I OD'd on now... You'd think I would, given how extreme the situation was. It was some cold medicine. Do you get sick of people who call themselves bipolar all the time? I absolutely do. It's extremely insensitive to people like myself who legitimately suffer - and I do mean "suffer" - from the disorder. Describe your day so far in three words: Dull. Lazy. Anxious. What was the most stressful project you had so far/while in school? Probably my senior project and the presentation I had to do for it. I taught about the fallacies and misconceptions of snakes, and I made a PowerPoint and some drawings to color and crosswords for the special ed children. I was so, so very nervous, but I got through it fine and the kids seemed to enjoy it. I actually still have the recording. Choose one- Butterfinger, Milky Way, Snickers: MILKY WAY. FUCK I love those. Have you ever stepped in dog poop? UGH yes. What was the last thing you spent money on? My niece's birthday present. Have you ever slept in the same bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. Is there a guy that knows a lot about you? I almost said "yes," but then I realized he doesn't know me at all anymore. I've changed so much, hopefully mostly for the better. He hasn't "known" me in many years. Is there someone you just can’t imagine your life without? It's terrifying to imagine my life without Mom; Sara, too. Do you prefer Starbucks coffee or small cafe coffee? I prefer no coffee. Would you ever consider getting a piercing in your septum? Nah. Do you enjoy being outdoors? If it's cool outside and I have somewhere to sit that's not the ground, yes. Do people tell you that you have an accent? Sometimes. Do you enjoy watching fireworks on the 4th of July? They're pretty, but I don't support their usage by this point in my life. They're a fire hazard, triggering to some vets with PTSD, and beyond terrifying for animals. What’re some unspeakable subjects for you? I get most heated about child molestation. You do not fucking touch a child like that. I don't even write any of my bajillion evil guys committing it in RP because I just can't stomach it. Even when my little sister (a children's social worker) is telling Mom about some stuff she sees at work, I have to not be present, 'cuz that shit isn't rare. It's nauseating. Is there anyone you would take a bullet for? A good number of people, honestly. Do you enjoy tanning? Hell no, I avoid the sun and heat at like all costs. Are you a virgin? This is going to sound weird, but I actually don't know, but I lean towards no. Who’s your celebrity crush? mARK EDWARD FISCHFUCK Did or do you get good grades in English class? I was always excellent in English. What part of your body are you self-conscious about? My stomach. But I'm self-conscious about everything else, too. Are you expected to help fix Thanksgiving dinner? No. Everyone knows I can't cook worth a damn. Have you ever lost anyone close to cancer? Truly close, no. Unless you include pets, actually. Then a few. :/ Do you personally know anyone who is transgender? Yep. When was the last time you got a shot? Earlier this year for Covid. Get your fucking vaccine, btw. :^)

[fallen-gravity]

Fightin’ Back Chapter 3

Chapter Notes:  Final stretch, boys! This is the last chapter that takes place in season one before we get into the heavier themes of season two. Boyz Crazy this time, and probably the only emotional hurt/comfort chapter of the entire fic.

So, uh, this has actually been up on AO3 for a few days already, but it completely slipped my mind to post the tumblr link until now. My bad 😂

AO3

The car is uncomfortably quiet as Stan pulls away from Lookout Point. Dipper’s leaning against the passenger side door, staring into the mirror like if he stares at Wendy long enough she’ll notice and chase after them to apologize to him for snapping at him. Stan taps at the steering wheel rhythmically, just to get some sort of noise to break the tension in the air, and Dipper sighs. 

It’s sad, really. The kid had been so excited to split Wendy and Robbie up before they left that he tried to insist on driving the golf cart up there himself. But he had no idea where Lookout Point even was, and Stan was sure someone was finally going to notice that the golf karts were stolen from the Northwest Golf Course, so he offered to drive him there in the car instead. And even then, the kid had been so excited he was bouncing in his seat the entire drive over. Stan’s sure he would’ve neglected the seatbelt altogether if he hadn’t reached over and clicked it into place for him. He was going on and on and on about code deceptions and the supernatural and how Robbie must’ve gotten the CD at some evil black market, or maybe he really did burn the CD himself and he’s secretly a vampire demon or something, and how that reminds him that he should “try mixing some salt into his spray bottle of holy water the next time he’s out demon hunting”, but now that everything’s over and done with and Wendy bitterly insisted she’d rather walk home than be with any of them right now, Dipper’s looking more like a sick puppy limping home with his tail tucked between his legs.

“Ah, don’t think too much into it, kid” Stan says, and Dipper finally breaks free from his mirror trance to spare him a defeated look in his eyes. “The breakup’s still fresh. I bet by this time tomorrow she’ll be all over you, swooning over how you saved her from that horrible monster”. 

Dipper doesn’t respond, just raises an eyebrow at him and goes right back into staring out the window. Least they’re too far away for him to still be staring at Wendy out the rear view mirror. 

“I mean it!” Stan barks a laugh. “Never got to finish that story I was telling you earlier. So after Carla ran off with that hippie, I stuck around to see how things were going with her. I was sure there was something about him that he wasn’t telling her.” He pounds at his chest with one of his fists. “And I was right! Turns out the dude’s guitar was, uh, cursed. So one day while he was sleeping I broke into his apartment and smashed the thing to pieces. After he had nothing left to show for himself, Carla came running back to me. Even drove the guy’s van into the ravine just so he couldn’t bother us again”

There’s a hint of a smile on Dipper’s face. “I don’t think I’d sink low enough to break the law, Grunkle Stan.”  He pulls himself away from the window. “Plus I thought you said she hated you for doing that"

Stan taps at his head. “You gotta work on your listening skills, Dips. I said he hated me for doing that” 

Dipper rolls his eyes at him, the most Dipper thing he’s done since getting back in the car to head home.

“Look, my point is, you gotta learn to look at things more positively. Maybe she wants nothing to do with you now, but tomorrow? You never know”.

Dipper flinches at the idea, but this time when he sighs it sounds more like he’s trying to calm his own nerves than like he’s trying not to cry. 

Stan pulls the car up to the back of the shack and unlocks the door. He steps out, and just as he’s about to head into the house he turns heel to talk to Dipper before the kid has time to run past him up to his bedroom to mope. “How’s about we sit in the living room with a couple a’ Pitt Colas and watch a movie to forget about the whole ordeal? Your choice”

Dipper mumbles something about movie night to himself, but only responds to Stan’s offer with a shrug. “I’m not in the mood. You can go in without me. I’ll come in when I’m ready”

Yeah, okay, Stan’s not buying that for a minute. He knows by now that when Dipper starts moping, the kid isn’t gonna move for hours. It’ll be two in the morning before he decides to come in, and even later if he accidentally falls asleep.

No mention that there’s child protection laws against leaving kids in locked cars.

…and that car-eating tree monster Stan’s sure he’s read about in that first Journal. 

Screw it. 

Stan gets back in the car, but Dipper doesn’t so much as blink when Stan closes the door behind him. Stan’s willing to believe that it’s because Dipper assumed he went inside, and whoa, okay, whoever put the idea in the kid’s head that he’s not worth the time of day is gonna need to start answering questions fast.

He turns the keys to start the ignition, and Dipper nearly jumps out of his skin when his door clicks locked on him. “Grunkle Stan?” he asks, once he realizes the car is pulling away again. “Where are you taking me?”

“Y’got cotton in your ears? I told you before, kid, I’m taking you bowling”

“Right now? I thought you were just saying that to make me feel better”.

“I was!” Stan flashes a grin. “But I never specified that you had a choice in the matter, now did I?”

Dipper opens his mouth to argue, but before he can get so much as a word out, Stan speeds out of the driveway so quickly that Dipper’s head whacks against the headrest of his seat.

~~~~~~~

Friday nights are usually the busiest day of the week for the bowling alley, but when you know exactly the right kind of people and have just the right amount of bribe money in your pocket, you can waltz in and get any lane you want as fast as you want.

Dipper, despite all of this, doesn’t seem as thrilled about the idea of bowling as Stan is. 

“Aw, c’mon, kid” Stan gently nudges him with his elbow. “I’m letting you go first! Everyone knows the person who gets to bowl first is the person you need to beat. It’s a privilege, if you ask me” 

“I dunno, Grunkle Stan” he fiddles with the laces of his sneakers. “I appreciate the gesture, and all, but...I’m just not feeling up for it tonight”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “Not up for beating me at something you know you can hold over me the rest of the summer?”  He scooches closer to Dipper on the bench. “Now I know something’s really wrong. This still about Wendy?”

He winces at the mention of her name like he’d just been slapped in the face, and Stan sighs.

“Look, Dips…” he pauses, trying to figure out to work around making this sound like the most awkward conversation he’s ever had with...anyone, let alone his own nephew. “Who needs women, am I right?”  He raises the can of soda he’d bought from the snack bar in a toast, but Dipper only rubs at his arm awkwardly. 

There’s gotta be something that’ll get Dipper to understand how many times Stan’s found himself in the exact same situation. 

Well, okay, Stan knows exactly what’ll get him to understand, but if he goes around telling so much as Mabel, the kid’s dead to him.

He sighs. “Kiddo, if you repeat what I’m about to tell you, you’re dead. Not just to me, I’m talkin’ dead dead. Got it?”

That seems to be enough to catch his attention. “O-of course” he repeats, like Stan’s about to tell him the secrets to unlocking the universe. It almost makes Stan wish that his story were more interesting. 

“Truth is, that story I told you about Carla ain’t exactly how it actually went”

Dipper blinks. “I…know. You told me that earlier” 

“No, I mean…” Stan pinches the bridge of his nose. “I mean, none of it was true. Obviously nobody rocketed off into the sky on a rainbow, or anything, but...Carla and I hadn’t even been dating anymore”

“What?” Dipper’s voice squeaks, and Stan chuckles.

“Well, we had been dating, y’see? But she’d just broken up with me a few days ago when I decided to stop over to the Juke Joint to see if she’d wanted to talk about changing her mind” he raises his hands in defense. “I only went in to talk. Scout’s honor, or...whatever it is your sister says.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, I get in there, and that hippy really is playing his transcendental music up on this tiny stage they had there”.

He takes a hard swig of his soda like it was a shot glass. “But Carla was up there with him, y’see? She was singing to some...weird folksy song that I’d never heard of before. Didn’t even sound like she was singing in English.” He leans back on the bench, resting his hands at the back of his head as he turns his gaze to Dipper. “That’s how I knew I lost her for good. So instead of causing a scene like some kinda....jerk”, he catches himself, “I ran out into the parking lot and hotwired her new boyfriend’s van and hightailed it outta there”.

The gaze that Dipper gives him is sympathetic, but he’s also covering his hand over his mouth like he’s trying not to giggle. 

“See? What’d I tell ya?” Stan flashes a grin. “You don’t need girls to show you a good time” he raises his drink towards the television screen above their bowling lane, still flashing with Dipper’s name. “You can always have a great time with your Grunkle Stan! No chance of eventual heartbreak with me”

“I know, I know…” Dipper stands to play his turn, and pretends the weight of the bowling ball doesn’t tip him over as he chucks it down the lane. The ball careens off to the side at the last second, barely even scraping the surface of the pins. “But I don’t think that’s entirely what’s bothering me” His second throw knocks down all but two pins, leaving him with a seven-ten split.  The screen switches to flashing Stan’s name, and Dipper turns to him as he returns to his seat.

Now we’re getting somewhere. Stan stands, pretending to appear dismissive in case it’s something Dipper doesn’t want to admit with all eyes on him. “You tellin’ me I just told you my biggest secret for nothing?”

Dipper blushes. “N-no! That’s not what I meant”. He sighs, looking down at his hands. “I mean, Wendy’s really one of the first people to really...accept me into her friend group.” This time he’s the one waving a defensive hand in the air. “Not that I’m saying I’ve never had friends before,” he squeaks, “...but they’ve felt…forced? Since Mabel and I were in a lot of the same friend circles, it just...always felt like they liked her better than me and only let me tag along because they knew I was related to her, or something”

Wow, okay, that hits way closer to home than Stan was expecting it to. He opens his mouth to comment, but it turns out that he’s not talking.

“But in comes Wendy, and y-yeah! Maybe some of it has to do with...other things” his face is turning pink, and he’s trying to hide in his vest. “But she’s so cool to me, and it doesn’t feel at all like she’s just using me to get to Mabel. Her friends like to make babysitting jokes whenever we tag along with them, but with Wendy  it feels like she really wants us to be there” He sighs, and slumps against his seat. “What if she hates me? Or never talks to me again? Or she quits working at the Mystery Shack because she doesn’t want to be around me, or-or she does keep hanging around, but it’s just like everyone at school, and she’s only there for Mabel, but she’s too cool to cause a scene and tell me to leave, and-”

“Breathe, kid” Stan’s at his side in an instant, gripping firmly onto Dipper’s arm to help him back onto his chair before he falls to the floor. “You’re gonna give yourself a panic attack.” He loosens his grip on Dipper’s arm once the color starts returning to his face. “Tell me, you really think Wendy’s the kinda person to kick you to the curb like that?”

Dipper doesn’t respond right away, but he’s taking deep breaths, which is a good sign. “No, I guess not…” he physically turns his body towards Stan to look at him, probably to prevent another dizzying spell. “But she looked so angry at me, and she grouped me together with Robbie, and she’s probably never talking to him again, I’m just….so worried I’m gonna lose the coolest friend I’ll probably ever have”.

Stan shrugs. “Trust me, bud, you do not have to worry about that. Teenagers are just like that. Y’get angry, you need to blow off steam for a few hours, but come tomorrow you’re over it like it never happened”. Stan finally goes to take his turn, lobbing the ball down the lane like it weighs little more than a penny. It slips into the gutter, but at the last second it careens back up and knocks all the pins over. He grins, pumping his arms in the air, and turns his gaze back towards Dipper. “You should’ve seen me when I was her age! I’d break a window, I’d punch a jerk in the face, and then I’d be over it”

“Grunkle Stan, you’re still like that”

“Exactly!” he boasts. “And you don’t see me holding grudges against people who don’t deserve it, do ya? You know you meant well, Dipper, and I’m sure it won’t take long for her to realize that too.”

Dipper’s playing with the edge of his vest. “I guess so”.

“There, see?” Stan gently nudges him as he sits down beside him again. “Problem solved”. He says, but backtracks a little when he remembers what Dipper had said about his anxieties around making friends. “And if you ever need any of my advice on how to talk to girls without using any creepy mind-altering CDs, I’m your guy” he flashes Dipper a thumbs up, and it makes him smile.

“Thanks, Grunkle Stan. I’ll keep that in mind”.