#speaks to my teen emo soul

[priestess-draws]

Washing your hands in blood won’t take away the stain

[captain-n-crunchies]

My Perfect

L x Chubby Reader

A.N: ( See even though im like late I STILL POSTED! im on like grind yall but, this man so fine I'm like i must write my deepest soul wrenching words about him)

I'm not perfect.

That's it. I tried every day as a kid to be perfect; pretty hair, small frame, soft voice everything to look desirable to others I tried to be. In high school I needed to be bold, thicker but not too thick, tall but too tall; never speak overly passionate it was a turn off, don't wear too much makeup it's like I'm a slut, and never can venture out and find a comfortable look for me. I never let the girl inside eat.

I wasn't berated though? Yes, I got stares when I wore something sitting and people saw my stomach, like yes mothafucka I got a stomach y'all thought it was a huge ass pot in my shirt? Yes, I did get the ' I'm sO cOnFideNt!' talk when I ate something like fruit, who doesn't like pineapple? When shopping I had looks of could I fit this or that and nobody ever comforted me when I would cry about not fitting jeans.

I was never perfect. But he never cared.

*Back to when Light didn't find the Death Note yet*

Log In: June 23, 2017

" What are you having for lunch?" was asked by my closest coworker, Maria she and I was friends since our college days when cramming information about law, statistics, and for some reason Shakespeare; we were forever. I turned to her in this damn rolling chair that was obviously not made for a girl with that thang back there, I mean why is half my leg practically on the floor? I thought about it for a second.

" I could go for quick burger, what about you?

" That's fine! Also did you finish your report? I didn't even get to..." I just stared at her though my head in space, Maria turned to see what I'm looking at and she saw a strange man walking inside the room.

" Um...I don't think he works here?"

" Is this when we got to fight for our lives? I don't have no weapon."

The man tall, dark unruly hair not curly though it looks like a one of those emo people from the 2000's like my chemical romance vibes, he has a homeless man look on him...its kind of sexy thought but, he doesn't work here?

We watch him while towards us and goes to the head manager cubicle that two rows ahead of us. We look at each other and look down acting like we're working but, we really being nosy. We hear only indicant chatter and the strange man's voice, his name is Riuzaki? Or Rukai? I don't know and our manager asked again, and he ignored the question and started talking about something different. Kind of rude but, with the way our manager is I'd do the same; Maria looks at me and looks at the time and tells me it our lunch break so, we both get up and I make sure to push down my jacket a habit I did as a teen to look slimmer, we walk out and down the little pathway to the front of the office when we get close to the strange man I turn my head down, his eyes immediately traced to me and he stared at me and he turned, kind of weird his eye contact was intense!

We walked over to the company lunch places inside it's a tiny burger spot filled with American dishes; we haven't really eaten there so we decided to try it out since it was also raining. Maria order first, a chicken salad with extra chicken and cheese with a large drink and dessert then it's me, a cheeseburger with fries and a large drink with a cookie; we wait a bit and sat down at a two-seat table and we talk about the sight we just saw.

" I wonder if he's trying to get a job here? "

" For what though? we ain't got nothing available yet."

" What if they fired somebody!? I heard but I didn't hear from department C that somebody was overusing company resources and they got let go."

" Omg, who?" Maria was going to say but we hear a buzz, and our food was ready we grabbed a tray and the person who gave us our orders gives me a look, ya'know the look of ' Breaking that diet huh?' Its common but still is annoying so I mean mug him back and he backs off. Sitting down we talk about our topics of choice like vacations, fashion trends, the latest news when the man from earlier comes down; didn't even see him till he pulled up a chair beside me and stared. Like what?

" Oh, Hello!" I introduced myself and Maria does the same, but how says nothing and stared at me.

" Are you going to eat that?" He points at a strawberry cookie I got, I look and shake my head "no' even though I was saving it I give it to him and smiled. He takes it and thanks me and then turned to Maria and asked how she feels about the company. Now, Maria is a sweet girl but, if she can't say her opinion without lying so she tries to say it's wonderful but, he caught on.

" Don't lie. I'm not going to do anything."

" Oh! but I'm not! really it's a won-"

" Your eyes turned up, when some people lie, they eyes turn up to think of somethings. Your hands turned over into a clasped position saying you're more of nervous than calm when I asked."

She's shocked and so am I, he takes a bite of the cookie and then looks at me to which I look away and he stares at me; deep black eyes pierced into, and I just look away because if I looked back what if he jumps me and I gotta kick and scream like that would be so embarrassing!

" Are you nervous?

" No, never"

" Hm...You look uncomfortable" He continued eating and I looked at Maria with a head tilt.

" So, what's making me uncomfortable."

" Your clothes, your shoes are hurting your feet by the way you walked quickly, and you have the heels of them off" He responded quickly, and I was shocked I mean he didn't lie. I just look and Maria excused her and mouthed ' Whoop his ass' and went to the bathroom, so now it's just us. We look at each other and I just shook my head and began eating again. He just looks at me and then turns his body towards me completely.

" What?"

" Do you like your position here?"

If I had the choice between working here and $20, I would pick $20 and a bag of skittles, it has it benefits from time to time but it not worth the headaches and long hours and I tell him just that. He hums and says nobody ever been that honest and I could care less, I listen and eat when he asked another question.

" If you're really don't like how you look why don't you change it"

It wasn't even a question it was like a statement like he knew, he knew from when he stared at me, he watched me. I look at him shocked and I just chuckled and threw the rest of my food away and left, texting Maria that I got sick. Walking away I see him get up and follow me, so ignored him; he just walked beside me and just looks either at me or around him hunched over like he finna throw up. Like what compells somebody to say that? Did he think I'm the one to try to play around with thing you'll get a good joke ooutta me? I should've shoved that damn drink up his stuck up ugy big headed-

" Your mumbling"

"...ok"

" If what I said made you mad just say it"

" If I did I'll go to jail for man slaughter."

He just chuckled, even though I'm pissed he sounded a little smexyyy but, I'll still beat his ass. I keep walking towards the parking lot, and he grabbed my arm asking can he be honest.

" I mean if back there wasn't honest I don't know what is"

He just stared (he got a staring problem) and began talking about how he meant that he saw me adjusting my jacket a habit he saw a lot of girls do when they want to look slimmer, then he saw the look his manger gave us me when I walked past, he said it was in utter disgust. As he went on all the insecurities from the past came again the girl inside of me just began to show, I looked at him blank, my hands started to sweat, my thoughts ran through me like a train, and I couldn't hold it anymore as a sob slipped through like butter from my mouth. I wiped my face and took a deep breath.

" Being a girl in Japan is hard, being black in Japan is harder, being a fat girl and black in Japan is like a war zone every day in my mind. From stares, to the so called ' complements', to everything inside growing out of me is like a constant war zone. Having men look at me like a 3rd class citizen is the problem, having girls treat me like I'm beneath them was the problem and no one had a problem with it."

" But who could care? It's not like I can change what they say with the attitude they expect from a black girl. I'm not perfect but, they wanted me to be and how am I going to achieve that? Huh?"

I stopped for one second and he just said nothing, all the bottled-up feelings I've had just overwhelmed me and I overshared.

" I think your perfect"

" Lying is a sin ya'know"

" Then good I'm an atheist. Your look is perfect."

How can somebody look perfect? With a body like this, my skin to people in this country are like a permanent plague, and my hair is just a warning to them on its own. I am not perfect, but he thinks I am. He's trying to help me feel better and it's not going to work.

" If this is perfect then-'

" You're not going to believe something if you denie it so much."

This man says that beautiful is different to everyone, like what people grew up with which is skinny, fair skin, and cute people they think it's a standard and everyone that's not all three of those traits are ugly. He said the way I feel is how he felt as a child he was never built manly, he was always so small and skinny people thought he was sick. It never bothered him; he seemed wiser as a kid then the whole world at its years; I couldn't even disagree with any statements I always found how people views change when they see unique things or common things and associate them with ugliness or beauty.

" For a homeless man your very smart"

"...I'm not homeless."

" Oh...then why you dress like you've seen a clothing store in life."

" I have seen a clothing store. I just don't see the appeal of dressing up."

He's an emo hippie. But nevertheless, I just listen and make my own few points. We continued walking and he stops me again.

" What's your name?"

" Reader Last Name, and your?

" Call me L"

' Hello L"

" Hello Reader"

Now we walk in comfortable silence, by the time I'm by the garage L asked for my number, his contact now ' Emo Hippie' and mines?

'My Perfect'

A.N: ( i finshed! I love this one because i feel this irl about my body type but, i got over it and it's kind of hard to write L's dialogue without making him sound rude because he's only nonchalant. But, let me know if you like it!

[notthecity]

So Much For Stardust: A Summary

Love From the Other Side: violinssss + WHAT WOULD YOU TRADE THE PAIN FOR. IM NOT SURE. + "i'll never go i just want to be invited" well that's just mean isn't it patrick 😢 Heartbreak Feels So Good: ah yes, defiantly nihilistic optimism, my favorite brand of fall out boy + we could CRY A LITTLE CRY A LOT!! + LOOOOOVE, OOOOOOOH, LOOOOOVE Hold Me Like A Grudge: THE BRIDGE AND PRECHORUS??? + the end of the world, the end of the world :D + part time soulmate, full time problem!!! + joe and andy are carrying the vibes, shoutout to them + Y O U P U T T H E F U N I N T O D Y S F U N C T I O N Fake Out: sad tiktok emo song guitars + nostalgic teen coming of age movie vibes all over + the lyrics here??? pete wrote his little heart out + love is iN tHe AiR Heaven, Iowa: immaculate vibes + SCAR. CROSSED. LOVEEEEEEERS FOREVEEEEEER + HALF THE LOOOOOOVE + the way things build up to the second chorus?? THE GUITARS??? + downdowndowndownDOWNDOWN So Good Right Now: man if only crippling depression was this fun all the time + oooooh oh oh woah + you need me to be you need me to be :D + just gives uuuup The Pink Seashell: i feel like i would get this interlude more if i had watched the movie but it has some cool orchestration going on, patrick went all in this album I Am My Own Muse: violins pt.2: electric boogaloo, now with brass instruments! + OOOOH gottothrowthisyearawaywegottothrowthisyearaway + *victoria justice voice* i think we're ALL trying to keep it together Flu Game: last night i dreamt i still. knew. YOOOOOUUUUU + ladadadaladadadaladada + energy injected right into the listener's veins!! i wanna break shit!!! + again on the lyrics, what the fuck pete how dare you speak to me this much + not the type beat outro Baby Annihilation: PETE POETRYYYYYY I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT PETE POETRY + "angel dust" *magic synth* + tension?? dissonance?? The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years): lowlowlowlowlow + TEN YEARRRRS + NOTHIIING. NOTHIIIING. NANANANANANANA + this song is essentially "hey we're all old now, here's a bit of how you used to feel at 13, now you're sad that you'll never be that happy again :)" like how is that fucking fair What A Time To Be Alive: this is soul punk 2020 "patrick screams in horror into a microphone about covid for three minutes" version. this is a soul punk song do not tell me otherwise + everything is here (except my serotonin 🤪) + aLIIIIIVE + to livestream the apocalypse + IVE GOT THE QUARANTINE BLUES BAD NEWS WHAT'S LEFT?? So Much (For) Stardust: PIANO???? ORCHESTRA???? + the little trumpets lmao + SO MUCH!!! FOR STARDUST!!! + thoughtwehaditaAaAaLl + THE CALLBACK. THE CALLBACK (but also nice eeaao reference lmao) + "i used to be a real go-getter, i used to think it'd all get better" ouch. ouch do not talk to me everything hurts

[remingtonisleithal]

I just think that what mcr did at the wwwy fest is beyond words, but I'm going to try anyway.

As a self proclaimed emo, I naturally feel nostalgia towards the 2000s emo culture, with the release of three cheers and the black parade albums, with fall out boy, with paramore, all of the songs with lyrics now written in our hearts being new. I feel incredibly nostalgic, but the interesting thing is that I'm nostalgic for an era I was barely alive to see. I'm a 2000s kid, I was less than a year old when three cheers was released. But I feel nostalgic towards it, I feel like things would have been better if I was born earlier to experience it.

But what MCR have done is they have said, to the media, to nostalgia, to the corporations bringing emo back for profit, not for sub-culture, is a big, total "FUCK YOU". And I think that's beautiful.

See, what my chemical romance is, and will always be, is something that you don't understand. That you can't quite grasp. Every time you think you know them, and decide who they are, they will do something so batshit to say "No. That's not us, we are whatever the fuck we want to be and we are proud of it." They did this in each era. They eyeshadow, they kissed each other, they wore all black, they wore bright colours and sang about a comic they made. They faked their fucking death.

So they wore their Revenge era outfits to the when we were young fest. This is already tongue in cheek, wearing something from when they were young to a nostalgia trip of a festival. But then adding in the prosthetics. Bringing you back to the present. Reminding yourself that that's not where you are anymore, the past cannot come back. And that's a good thing. Because they played all their hits, none of the niche stuff the mcrmy has a passion for. They didn't talk between songs and played the band they were supposed to be, pigeon-holed into for the longest time. So much so that it was killing them, it's why they split up. Because if they didn't, if they stayed the way they were told they were supposed to be, they would have ended up dead (evident by their outfits, particularly mikey, I haven't seen a single photo of his outfit and I heard that he was covered in blood, no prosthetics, which can be read into as something bad happening to him, leaving him to die young, which would have been the harsh reality if they pushed themselves into this).

My Chemical Romance has always and will always tell you who they are, which will always be the opposite of what people tell them to be. And right now, the media is making them into some sort of glorified revival band, but that's not it. They're just them. They don't want the fucking nostalgia to take them back to a place that nearly killed them. They never wanted to be pigeon-holed into being emo, even speaking out about hating the stereotype (which changed so much from what it was when they were growing up, it shifted into some kind of store-bought ripped jeaned teens with a passion for razor blades instead of angst souls surviving through music) and yet the same stereotype--which was once protested as being anti-religious, propaganda, a suicide cult and more--is being paraded around as a nostalgic gem to be worshipped. A trend. And you bet your ass that ray toro, mikey way, frank iero and gerard way are going to shit on all of that.

It was never about the money. The hits. The costumes. The crowds. It was about saving lives by being yourself, and looking into the past, reminiscing over how things were through the rose-tinted lens of time, isn't going to save anyone. It's going to leave you without anything in the present. You have to evolve. And bullshitting yourselves into being something you're not, or believing the grass was greener is only bullshitting yourself. It's not rebellion, it's suicide. The exact thing my chem is trying to stop. The haunting prosthetics serve as a reminder that while it's fun to revisit the past, you cannot stay that way. You have to carry on.

[caffernnn]

as a folie a deux stan, would you share your thoughts & feelings about the album

A chance to ramble about one of my all-time faves?? ooOOO SAY LESS MY FRIEND ♥️🧸💛

I think Folie finding a place in my heart was a perfect storm — I’m a new fan falling into obsession with FOB during my mid-teens, and they’re starting to get into the hayday of the post-hiatus SR&R era. So of course, I’m looking through wiki pages, poking through fan pages, seeing interviews here and there (doing research for my sophomore year’s mandatory big research essay, and also satisfying my need to Know Everything™️ ), and I start wondering about how hiatus happened. What’s up with Folie? Why is it listed as not being well-received by fans and painful for the band (at that time)?

It becomes this situation where you’re handing 16-year-old me this misfit outcast album, one with bears on the cover (I’m predictable and easy to please shhhh) and an openly experimental vibe set apart from their previous work (more collaborative iirc, the four of them drawing on stuff they were inspired by to try new things). Pair that outcast magnetism (impulse to show love to wounded birds and rejected things) with lyrics that speak to the liminal space I existed in with my own adolescent identity (lyrics speaking to madness in complex dependent relationships, to not knowing yourself, to wanting to know yourself, to wanting to know the world, to trying to figure out morals and love and worth amidst your missteps and lost sense of self and unspeakable depression), and I was sunk. Listened to some YouTube video rip of the full album (or playlists that also included pavlove and lullabye) to fall asleep at night, while showering, really whenever I had a chance in my downtime (since I didn’t have headphones and listened to more of the futct/ioh/sr&r hit singles when with friends). Something about Pete’s devastating lyrical angst and Patrick/Joe/Andy’s artistry and the heavy feelings surrounding the album (from the minor bits the fans/public know about the time and the stories weaved throughout the album) started hitting in a specific way that had me imprinting on Folie and the band like a baby bird. Yeah, I started having that feeling of being understood by music with other bands (MCR, Paramore, P!atD, classic emo trinity stuff) along with some of the more pop punk stuff I was already into (PtV, ATL, you know the era), but for whatever reason, Folie maintained its place as my heart and soul album (along with Soul Punk for PStump-related reasons, but we’re not talking about her right now 🏃🏻‍♀️)

We’d be here all night if I tried to list favorite songs or lyrics, but I can ramble a bit about what hit me most when I started going “oh yeah, this is my album” as a teen:

I mean like, of course, right? “What a Catch, Donnie” is the pinnacle ballad, from all the lyrical callbacks and cameo features to the somber/hopeful music video, plus the interviews out there noting the song as lyrically important to the band. I think you can find stuff from back in that era (‘08-‘09) talking about it as almost a “swan song,” a final message that’s as close as you’ll get to personal convictions in a less-autobiographical album. For me, it felt like a love letter to their past selves in the unstoppable march forward in time. It felt like grief, the kind that comes with change and it’s inevitable losses, but it also felt like hope. Imagine not seeing goodness within you, not recognizing yourself, feeling stranded and pushed by the tides and not sure where you’ll end up. Then, imagine finding a lifeline through hanging on to someone else with the same type of stormy muddled mind, finding them and becoming their looking glass, their mirror, their guide — helping someone apathetic and listless find a spark again after giving up on themselves. It makes you wonder if you’ll find clarity through connection too, if you’ll be saved over and over again by people who see you and make sense of it all, or maybe don’t make it all better/comprehensible but care for you anyway. It became an anthem for me to hang onto my friends and budding new interests to help make me feel whole and keep going at a time where everything felt overwhelming and impossibly complicated (the curse of being 15/16/etc). Something about learning about hiatus, learning about the peaks and valleys of the band, looking at it all while having the fortune of knowing they find their ways back to each other to create more music and memories and get to keep growing together — that was big for me in a way I couldn’t articulate at the time but still felt deeply. We can be lost, but still found; flawed, but still loved. That’s important to hear when you’re stumbling through those early formative years, and important to be reminded of when we stumble through evolving our identities again and again and again.

There’s a lot of nostalgic love for the album now that I’ve held onto it for a decade, but it’s still so fun to revisit and holds up for me amidst all of the new music I listen to now. SM(f)S wriggled it’s way into my heart this past year and sits in there holding onto Folie’s hand, speaking on heavy themes and channeling that same motivation to experiment and create a legacy through music. Getting to see FOB live this year (!!!) playing Folie songs live (!!!!!) and eventually revisiting the whole album throughout the duration of tourdust (!!!!!!!) was an amazing experience, and it’s great to see Folie get her flowers in the many years since her release. Happy 15 years, Folie!! 🩵🐻💙

[loganwritesprobably]

Hi, sorry in advance for things mostly about Teen Wolf (And specific characters/actors from it, I'm currently obsessing over Peter Hale and Chris Argent.).

What do you think of Peter (Or similar characters from whichever fandom you want), that subverts most expectations?

I, personally, feel Peter listens to 80's pop like Cyndi Lauper and Madonna and secretly has an Etsy store where he sells artwork and little charms he makes himself.

You've hit a gold mine - Peter is my favourite character 🩵

Peter had an emo phase as a teenager, you can't tell me he didn't. That now translates into a taste for dad rock, which he passed on to Cora

He loves interior design. Has a true passion for it, his taste always surpasses expectations. Sure, he dresses well, but the design of a home is a whole other ball game and he excells at it

He speaks several languages. English and Spanish are the typical Hale languages and he speaks both fluently, however he's also fluent in French, and can speak bits and pieces of Latin

Peter was a complete mamas boy. Maybe this one isn't unexpected but I just know it in my soul. His dad was fine, but his mother was everything.

Peter has autism. Again I'm not sure this is unexpected, but it's the little things. He strikes me as someone who likes having things just right and is a lover of routine. He's sensory seeking in most ways, but averse to touch and rather than struggling with social cues he took to studying them closely as a teen which is what makes him such an effective manipulator but he struggles with genuine connection

In another life, Peter would've been a teacher. Maybe not a very good one, in the sense that he wouldn't be the kindest, but he'd be a favourite of "mean gays" at the school and he'd be the voice of realism when needed. He'd push students only when he knew they were capable. I think he'd have taught high school, but maybe university level

Peter, if given the chance, would've pursued several degrees. He's not lazy, the Hales had money, and he's intelligent. What better to do with his time? And it gets him out of the house! Some of my favourite choices for him are Law, Philosophy, English, Business and History - he's definitely more of a humanities/essay writing guy than a science or maths guy

Peter was the most sensitive of his siblings when he was young. He was tender hearted, struggled with learning to control his shift, cried easy and often and needed tender handling. Partly because of his autism and predisposition to being overwhelmed and partly because.. that was just him. He didn't necessarily grow out of it, more so grew around it and learned to hide it, channelling a lot of those big feelings into helping to control his shift instead

Peter has anxiety. We see in the show that he's a run first ask later sort of guy, especially in the earlier seasons, I wouldn't be surprised if he was prone to anxiety as a teenager and it was revitalised post-fire. That is the attitude of a man who has had more than enough panic attacks in his life

Peter is the little spoon - especially post-fire. There's something very comforting about being held like that, being surrounded by something you know is safe

I'll save anything particularly dark or NSFW for a different post, if that's something people are interested in

[wild-grinders]

Wild Grinders: The Fan Analysis (Pt.3)

First Previous

if anyone has finals, consider this as a gift for making it through

Alright, it’s time for the third part of the analysis. It took awhile to actually begin writing this because I don’t want to dive into my self-indulgent yuri-beam reboot. And we shouldn’t nitpick to make the series ‘better.’ However, there’s a lot for Wild Grinders to improve on that that leaves you thinking, ‘Actually, we should rework it entirely.’ And that’s what this is. The best way was to organize it into 3 categories: Theme, Plot, and Characters. Most of this analysis is going to focus on the writing because animation is not always in our control. (And we kinda covered animation in the last part and said it needed a whole renovation).

That being said, this part of the analysis is primarily focused on keeping the structure of the TV series and the original vision that Rob Dyrdek has. (To the best of my ability).

[Part A]

Let’s assume that the script is taken seriously. Wild Grinders need to have a better overall theme because the wacky skate tricks didn’t do enough to draw in attention.

The current theme of Wild Grinders doesn’t exactly work. As mentioned in the second of my analysis, the writers were trying their best to appeal to the Gen Z audience. Usually by means of implementing modern pop culture references and putting social media in the spotlight in the latest episodes. While the writers aren’t wrong about the technology/socmed obsession amongst children, they missed out on an extremely alarming picture. They didn’t notice why children were becoming gravitated to this era of internet.

Recently, I have been learning about the way that society treats children and teenagers. (Awkward sentence, sorry). But I find myself learning more and more about the ways that society puts control on what kids can and cannot do. Many adults make the decisions to remove places to hang out such as parks and even skate parks (reason: to prevent drug dealers). In the age of our digital era, theaters and physical media are diminishing in favor of online subscriptions. Basically, kids are losing public spaces where they can hang out safely.

And it does NOT stop there. Cops are constantly being funded to ‘handle’ teens who are loitering (Why? Because they don’t have places to hang out). I don’t want to go on an off-topic rant in this analysis, but this post sums up what I’m trying to talk about. It really makes your brain think about the ways that society fails to let kids… be kids. Society uses harmful tactics to remove teenagers for ‘the greater safety’ of property. And I doubt that adults will listen to younger people who speak up about it. Instead, society would rather complain about raising a generation of phone-addicted youths. Older children and teenagers will be threatened and put into dangerous just by being outside because cops have control on where they can be. And by having ‘suspicion’ on teenagers is absolutely allowed in their rulebook to put a kid in a police station.

This is what Wild Grinders should have focused on as the whole theme if you consider the setting it takes place in (2010ish). If the writers wanted to talk about the phone-addicted kids, then they should have questioned why it was happening in the first place. Not only that, but it’s just a perfect theme for Wild Grinders. Reason one, it’s completely different from Rocket Power (their main theme was the history and safety of extreme sports). Reason two, it fits for the main cast. Lil’ Rob is literally the embodiment of ‘screw your authority!’ Jay Jay and Spitball are literally POC characters that the police often go after and the series could have delved into this. In Ketterville-canon, Jack Knife is homeless and lives under a highway, he’s 100% anti-cop. Emo Crys could have went to Linkin Park territory and his archetype was meant to be an intensely rebellious soul. And Goggles? He has the camera to capture video evidence of everything they go through.

Is it possible to air an anti-cop TV series? Nope. But it’s very possible to write and utilize it for what Wild Grinders is. A group of preteens who want to just hang out and skate. In fact, a few of the episodes featured the Wild Grinders being turn away by security and cops when they wanted to find a place to skate. However, they just obeyed in favor of ‘sending a good message to kids about obeying the rules.’ And the script writers didn’t think to push it further than this. But man, they could have done something else entirely if they went to the territory of police brutality used on adolescents. The Monster High Movie, Ghouls Rule! actually did something like this! The movie managed to present a family-friendly version of what ‘police brutality on teenagers’ feels like. To be specific, it wasn’t until 2020 when MH fans became aware of this hidden message and began openly talking about it on Tumblr and TikTok. But to keep it brief, Monster High movies were able to explain police brutality and racism incredibly well. And it’s possible for Wild Grinders to use this a whole theme for a series about kids who want to skateboard in an anti-children and anti-loitering system.

But anti-cops won’t be the only theme in Wild Grinders, there’s another theme that I would love to see; a coalition of diverse skaters. Rob Dyrdek’s vision when creating the Wild Grinders’ characters was to have a diverse cast who were brought together by their love of skating. The idea of diversity has always been intentional for Wild Grinders, but the writers did NOT utilize it enough! They attempted to make the cast be diverse in personality, but they made all of their backgrounds vague and look like they were all normal American kids by hiding their families. Not only that, but they missed out on multiple opportunities to create other skaters outside of the Wild Grinders skate crew. (We’ll talk about this later). In the second season, they were close to introducing the ‘Street Rats’, the crew that Squeaks was apart of. But 2015 happened and Rob Dyrdek packed up his TV series because he didn’t have the motivation to continue Wild Grinders. But we can’t really blame Dyrdek, he was going through a rough patch at the time and the studio screwed Wild Grinders over (in animation and the writing). And that’s why I’m here to talk about what should have been done. And most of it is to improve the writing! The writers were adults who didn’t bother to understand what kids wanted more of at the time and began to parody off of other kids’ TV series.

But yeah. If the writers weren’t bent to the idea of kids-being-incapable-of-thought-processing, then we could see more effort being put into the theme. And not just that, but some of the writers just weren’t here to write for kids and wanted to write Adult Swim jokes. Do I have a passive-aggressive voice about these adult writers? Definitely. Children deserve to consume media that has good writing about meaningful messages in the world.

[Part B]

Next step, Wild Grinders needs to use these two main themes for the plot.

We know for a fact that Rob Dyrdek never planned for a real plot in Wild Grinders. If we were to take his route, Wild Grinders will eventually become boring because a good plot draws people more than the quirkiness. In order to draw people through quirkiness, the visuals need to exceed expectations (clearly something that Wild Grinders failed to do in animation). Therefore, we need to think about a plot for Wild Grinders because it does NOT have the budget for a Kyoto Animation or BONES Studio anime. The plot is compensation here!! It needs to be worked on well!!

Let’s diverge from Rob Dyrdek’s ideas. He wants to make an amazing, cool, and crazy series. But in order to do something like this, you do need some sort of plot. Conflict in writing can lead to all sorts of situations that causes to the characters to be cool, crazy, and amazing.

There is some plot in the writing of Wild Grinders, each episode being 13 minutes long and trying its best to implement one. Most of the episodes have decent plots, but these plots didn’t grab the audiences’ attention, unless you actually liked Wild Grinders as a whole. I don’t know the most professional way to explain this, but Wild Grinders needs a build-up to a greater plot, it needs an actual ‘Big Bad’. Or it just needs a longer run time to build it up better. Some of my favorite small, plot-driven episodes were ‘Midas Touch’ and ‘Skater Who Cried Wolf’ because it didn’t rely on wacky quips to make it entertaining. ‘Skater Who Cried Wolf’ made the animation put extra effort in enhancing the setting, by having Lil’ Rob and his friends watch a horror movie on a school night and then making a ghost-hunting green-filtered screen chase around in the woods. It was just a cool episode compared to the rest. But ‘Midas Touch’? That episode will always be my weakness in Wild Grinders. It focused on a character other than Lil’ Rob, but the plot would be rushed because of the runtime. I wanted to see deeper into Goggles’s character when he decided to become popular. Hell, I wanted to see him be mean to his friends and let the popularity get into his head. (Well, we did see this in ‘Going Hollyweird’, but even that was short). But the resolution to ‘Midas Touch’ was simplified where Goggles’s just cries about not being able to nerd out. No. I want more inner conflict on his side and his to feel deeper regrets other than rejecting a movie screening. While these episodes are both quick and easy plots, ‘Midas Touch’ contributed to the greater idea that is known as character development. Something that is essential for a greater plot. Can I elaborate why this is? Not really, but you just have trust me that it does work.

Anyways, let’s get into the real idea here. Using the themes of diversity and cops abusing their authority on the youth. The main plot will have to involve a large-scale conflict against the police force that bans skateboarding. That’s it. That’s the plot. But it will need to developed throughout the series, carefully placed in different episodes until it becomes a more blatant problem. Think about it for a moment. The first episode makes an off-hand reference to the way that police ‘warn’ skateboarding kids to stay away from the mall. Then it leads to episodes where characters are being arrested for ‘loitering’ in an outdoor public space. Finally, there’s an entire ban on skateboarding in the whole city and you’ve got a group of kids who are willing to challenge it. This is what the writers completely missed out on because they didn’t put themselves in the same shoes of Gen Z youth.

And we can add more to this mix. We need to add in a diversity of skateboarders, they all come from different backgrounds and have different experiences, but they share their love of skateboarding and do their best to protect each other in a world where adults rule over them. Wild Grinders needs LGBTQ kids, teens who want justice for their POC friends, and young adults who are willing to listen to them. They all love skateboarding and they’re sick of adults who want to take their skating spaces away from them.

Wild Grinders was able to make this a plot, but they didn’t.

[Part C]

We need to talk about the characters. We’ve got a lot and we’ve got nothing going on for the cast. As stated before, Rob Dyrdek wanted to create a diverse cast of skateboarders. But he didn’t do the best job at balancing them as characters. Obviously, Lil’ Rob was the main character and got all the attention, but it got to the point that he was considered a Gary Stu because of it. There’s such an imbalance between him and his friends. The TV series didn’t do ALL of the Wild Grinders any justice. They were all watered down to adore Lil’ Rob and when they never got any real development. There was an attempt to balance the characters, but they were lacking. They were always reduced to their conventional personalities and felt static and sterile. Lil’ Rob clearly has the majority of episodes that focus on him.

It’s shocking that Emo Crys has the least amount of episodes considering his popularity and the fact that Rob Dyrdek always hyped him during the first wave of toys. But it’s important to note that the rest of the cast often got their spotlight stolen by Lil’ Rob when they were meant to have an episode dedicated to them. ‘Wild BFFs’ is an oddball on here because it didn’t really contribute to Jack Knife’s characters, but it was an episode where Lil’ Rob didn’t take it away from him. Either way, these were the episodes where the writers tried to put some spotlight on the rest of the main cast, but these episodes fell short. Jay Jay and Emo Crys had the most lukewarm episodes where Lil’ Rob usually has to solve the problem. ‘Wild Grinder with Two Heads’ was the only episode where Lil’ Rob was actually cut off, but both Jay Jay and Emo Crys had to share this episode. Honestly, it wasn’t exactly the best episode because it was one of the ‘wacky’ ones and it’s just brings secondhand embarrassment to watch it. It’s great to see 2 different characters (one of them not being Lil’ Rob) have to work out their problem together, but I would rather have it be a handcuffs situation where they were forced to work out their differences. Spitball is clearly the quiet character and that makes some excuse for his lack of episodes. To keep him mysterious. Goggles had the best development out of everyone in most of his episodes, but it still feels underwhelming until ‘Midas Touch’. While it looks like Jack Knife has a lot of episodes, there’s something that pisses me off about them all. It’s his Sprawl City-canon personality. He was reduced to being the dumb, uneducated American with a southern accent. This funny persona basically demolishes him from having a meaningful character arc. I want the Ketterville-canon Jack Knife for a lot of reasons, but mostly because the whole point of his character was being the kindest out of all the Wild Grinders despite the fact that he was poor and made to always be the joke. Before the production of the TV series, all the Grinders had expression sheets drawn by Tracey, only Emo Crys’s sheet being released. However, there was a tweet that revealed a glimpse of Jack Knife’s sheet where he was like full-on, pissed-the-hell-off.

The only reason why they could never let Jack Knife be angry in the series was to probably avoid him from looking like an angry redneck due to his strong southern accent being permanent later on. If they stuck to the Ketterville-canon and original voice actor for Jack Knife, we could have had an episode where he finally snaps after being docile for long enough. My boy was meant to slash tires and defend his friends when they are mistreated!!

Speaking of Ketterville-canon, it was very fleshed-out and made the characters unique and interesting. You want to know why Spitball got his nickname? He used his spit on people because he thought it would heal wounds from a story he heard. The writers should have made Emo Crys way more moodier and Jay Jay deserves more screen time of his hobbies. The rest of the cast needs to have conflicts (both internal and outside) of their lives and be able to resolve them. The writers avoided anything that would truly challenge the characters in favor of keeping a conventional typecast. And we aren’t done yet. Another improvement on characters we need is: less antagonists and adults that appear for an episode. There’s too many one-time villains in the TV series than like, actual kids who are the same age the Wild Grinders. No, this doesn’t mean we need a girl skate crew to play as girlfriends. Absolutely not. We need different kids who love to skateboard. We need gay and trans kids. We need to see black and brown skateboarding kids. We need to see new designs for characters and skate crews who can make challenges and befriend the Wild Grinders. If kids are going to watch the TV series, they deserve to feel seen because Wild Grinders make more celebrities and adults in the cast where they don’t do a lot. (Unless it’s Lil’ Rob’s mom. She contributes more to the story than the actual antagonists).

Anyways, we need better development for the main and reoccurring cast. But we need to see a diversity of skateboarders as well to create unique plots and encourage character development by having them interact with the Wild Grinders. I’m tired from writing all of this in one shot, but it’s sincerely tiring that the script writers wrote everything the way it is in the TV series.

Apologies if any part of this analysis feels rushed or incomplete, it’s the week of finals and my brain isn’t working (and threw off everything I was supposed to write about the analysis). To the few people reading this, thank you and hope that this enhances the brainrot. Feedback is very appreciated on my end.

[artificii-in-ceata]

Fireworks in the Fog dashboard simulator part 4

🥀 ladylazarus1991 Follow

Aug 31, 2014

I'll make a new post cause my mutuals completely derailed the other one, making my dashboard unusable for the whole week.

I don't want to be cringe like I'm in a teen romance novel, but on the other hand, that quote from Wuthering Heights really popped into my mind these days, thinking about him "whatever souls are made of, his and mine are the same". It's not just the tattoo, although even just that speaks volumes. It's the fact that, from all the personal conversations we've had, it seems like we had to deal with much of the sake struggles throughout life, such as toxic parents, being a former straight A student, burnout, depression, losing friends etc. We definitely have the same life philosophy and very similar worldviews, even though he never even read Cioran haha. We're both rather lonely.

Isn't that what we all want, to be understood?

#yearning hours

10 notes

🥀 ladylazarus1991 Follow

Sep 3, 2014

He's nothing like my ex, though?????? Like ok I was very attached to my ex at the time cause he was the only one in my group friend who didn't leave me, but I learned later that he assumed I was the only "normal" person left from that group, and, feeling marginalised, he trusted me more, but that his "trust was broken" when he learned the truth about my mental issues, and that he doesn't need any more "crazy exes". It was somebody I trusted who completely turned against me and made me feel worthless. Why did we even get together in the first place? Good question. I think we were united in our shared hatred towards many things, and people, but ultimately, looking back, we weren't united by a shared love of anything, to be honest. And I've grown as a person since then, too. I'm less bitter and eager to make being a hater my whole personality.

With my crush it's like we share so many things that we love, and also met as if at the perfect time for us to connect and really understand each other, at an age and stage of life when we're mature and experienced enough to do so. I usually don't believe in fate, and I know I can't really trust my feelings, but it really feels like something special this time. But if you're still suspicious of him, don't worry, we aren't even together. I may be here posting about how I'm falling in love and he might not feel the same about me at all. We get along great but I can't assume he thinks of me as more than a work friend and maybe a cool person, until proven otherwise.

#personal #yearning hours #crush

5 notes

🥀 ladylazarus1991 Follow

Sep 26, 2014

Since I notice myself talking a lot about him, I'm gonna have to find a nickname that's better than just "my crush". I was thinking maybe "Ben", as like a reference to Breaking Benjamin, which he mentioned being into when he was in his emo phase. I think I'll settle on this one

#personal #crush #liveblogging #ben posting

6 notes

[bluntfish]

Some headcanons I have about Aurelius that could be terrible or cursed:

He probably has some kind of a secondary education but since he became an esper in his late teens (estimated), he would consider finishing up with a GED if he wasn’t on the tundra.

Might be involved in some mob-ish or gangster stuff unknowingly. He has that naive air in him before having the means to leave Utgard. Or did it as a means to survival.

The dude radiates Midwest emo vibes. If I had to dart him in the US, he would be originally from Chicago then moved to the outskirts of Gary, Illinois. Or if I wasn’t thinking of geographics much: Springfield, Indiana lolol

…the man can’t cook other than skewers. Therefore, he’s probably not a good cook. My friend when I asked them about Aurelius’ cooking expertise and basically said, “this man can’t cook nothing other than an open flame? How the hell he be eating at home?”. I wish I knew. His diet probably would be cooked game with his own personal seasoning and wilted veggies lmaooooo

Adding to that he frequents the market often when he was younger, he probably didn’t had to rely on home cooking much.

Why do I have a feeling he was bullied when he was younger—

Used to have prescription glasses but his eye sight has been enhanced thanks to Ullr’s influences. But his stare is somewhat unnerving for people who meet him for the first time. Still wears outdoor glasses, at least the polarized kind, to mitigate that but good luck getting your soul bore into a hole.

How many patches he has on his greenhouse? Too many to count I bet.

Speaking of his greenhouse, he has one successful plant raised on his care out of the dozens that are barely surviving. He’s trying.

If he had a natal chart, he would be a Capricorn. Plus Chiron on his first house. Along with a mercury retrograde on top of that—

Since now its confirmed that his mental state has been affected after becoming Ullr’s esper, Aurelius probably gets pretty restless if he’s not moving around in his hiking trails. He does enjoy his moments of rest though. Maybe with a cozy blanket or something. He’s still human despite that.

[theconstantfangirl]

sometimes I hear an ajr song and think "why don't I just sit down and listen to all of these? every one is incredible" and then I remember that ever time I've listened to a new ajr song I've burst into tears

[tlhrfanfic]

[Analogical] Closest to Heaven

DAY TWO @analogicalweek

Prompt: Stars

Read on A03.

Warnings: Angst, Minor Character Death mention, Grief. (Don’t worry though! Super happy ending!)

———————————————–

Virgil ran out of the house through the back door, the arguing echoing even as he slammed the door shut. He wasn’t afraid of his parents. They weren’t scary or mean or anything like that… to him. 

 But to each other… 

 He used the sleeves of his hoodie to wipe away the stress tears that stubbornly continued to fall. He ran and kept running through the streets until he found a park where the lights weren’t as bright and trees framed the open expanse. 

 He sighed, catching his breath before trudging through the grass. 

 Virgil knew he should go home. At some point his parents would be looking for him. 

 But something caught his attention. 

 He wasn’t sure what it was at first but it had definitely been skyward and so he turned his six year old face to the sky and his jaw dropped. 

 At six, he had definitely seen stars before. But the dimmer lighting meant less lights masking the stars and here, in this park, it seemed there were millions of them. He remembered his best friend telling him that once. That there were millions of stars but most of the time they just couldn’t be seen. 

 He had never, ever seen them like this. 

 So clear, so bright. 

 So.

 Many. 

He stared up in awe at the vast number and before he could stop himself, Virgil laid out on the grass and continued to stare skyward.

 I’d give up forever to touch you,

Cause I know that you feel me somehow.

You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be,

And I don’t want to go home right now.

 Virgil fell asleep there on the grass waking a little later as his mother’s voice startled him and, with one last glance at the sky, ran back to her.

 “Mom… Mom, I saw stars! So many stars!”

 “That’s nice, Virgil, but don’t you ever run out like that again. You scared me. Now, let’s get you home. It’s cold out here.”

 Virgil glanced back at the stars, dim now that he was in a more brightly lit area, but for a moment he was certain that one star in particular shone just a little bit brighter, almost sparkling at him. 

 “Mom.. what are stars?”

 “Hmm?” She asked, taking his hand. 

 “Stars… what are they?”

 She glanced at the stars and smiled down at Virgil. 

 “Well… some people say they are burning gas but I like to think they are guardian angels… keeping us safe.”

 Virgil gasped looking back at the shiny star he had found and smiling. 

 »»————　☠　————««

 Virgil sighed as he made his way toward the park. He had been going to this park when he needed space ever since he was a kid. Unfortunately, it had been cleaned up some so more people frequented it which left Virgil annoyed. 

 It’s not your park. You can’t keep people from being here. 

 He was just grateful that the city hadn’t thought to put in more lights. There had been plenty of petitions but the city had far bigger issues it needed the funding for at the moment. 

 Unfortunately, that also meant a lot of other teens came to this specific park when on dates to make out and cuddle. Making a face, Virgil rolled his eyes as he passed one such couple on his way to his favorite spot. 

 He was so happy that no matter when he came, his spot was never touched. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, as it was a prime spot for couples, but no matter what, it was always there. 

 Virgil had nearly reached it when a couple of teens came his way and started to sneer in his direction. 

 “Hey, faggot!” They called. 

 “Wanna suck my dick, pretty boy?”

 “Hey, Emo! Doesn’t look like you’ve managed to kill yourself yet. Why don’t I choke you with my big cock?”

 Virgil hissed lowly and turned toward the three. 

 “You couldn’t handle me, fucktards. But sure, come get a kiss.”

 They recoiled at that and quickly ran off, calling him a freak and using other names he was used to hearing at this point. Honestly, he didn’t get it. It wasn’t like when his parents were kids. Why did so many people still have an issue with gay people? 

 If it wasn’t being gay or goth, they’d just find something else to torment you about, he told himself, sighing. 

 He kept watching them to make sure they weren’t coming back before continuing on. Reaching the spot, Virgil laid out his favorite purple-and-black plaid blanket. Laying out on it, he sighed as he was immersed in a relaxing feeling. 

 Putting his arms behind his neck, Virgil looked skyward and smiled, his eyes instantly finding his favorite star. He wasn’t sure how but it had seemed to grow brighter over the years. Tonight it was especially bright and, for a moment, Virgil allowed himself to believe that it was happy to see him. 

 A giggle caught his attention and he glanced over to see a couple holding each other and such intense emotions in their locked gazes that he could feel from where he was. 

 A groan escaped him and he looked skyward once more. As soon as his eyes met the star once more, it seemed to twinkle in and out for a few seconds. Virgil felt warmth and comfort. 

 Yes, if he just focused on the star—his star—everything would be just fine.

 “I wish you were here… you’d make this… life... all more… bearable.”

 And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

And sooner or later, it's over

I just don't wanna miss you tonight

 Virgil woke at some point after midnight. Swearing, he hurried to get up, knowing his mom would be worrying. Once he had his stuff gathered, he looked up at the sky once more, smiling. 

 »»————　☠　————««

 Virgil sighed shakily as he pulled the knot of the tie, loosening it. It still felt like a noose around his neck so he took it off completely, tossing it to the ground as he kept walking. 

 He reached his spot… the same spot he had been returning to for most of his life. Unfortunately, this was the first day he had been here that he no longer had the one person in the world he cared for. 

 “Why did you let this happen?” he growled up at the sky, the angry look in his dark eyes seeming to burn at the star. 

 For a moment, it seemed like the star grew dimmer. Almost as if in response to Virgil’s words. He didn’t know why, but it put a sour taste in his mouth and made his insides drop. 

 “You… you’re right…” he said, not sure why he was talking to the star. “You… it’s not your fault… but… my mom… she’s gone.”

 And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

Or the moment of truth in your lies

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you bleed just to know, you're alive

 Virgil suddenly fell to the ground, sobbing as he gripped into the earth beneath his hands. It grounded him and he looked up to see the star shining even more brightly, flickering every few seconds as if it was trying to say something. 

 “I don’t know what you’re saying… I don’t know what you want… maybe I’m crazy and this is selfish… but I want you here… or I want to be where you are…”

 He laughed at himself, bringing a hand up to his eyes to wipe angrily at the still flowing tears. 

 “This is a mistake… I… I don’t think I can keep coming… I’m… I’m sorry… thank you for always being there for me… I won’t forget you.”

 »»————　☠　————««

 Virgil sighed shakily as he took one step onto the sweeping grass of the park. He bit his lip and took another step. 

 You are being ridiculous, V.

 Pushing past his nerves—there was no reason to be nervous—Virgil strode with purpose past the larger lawn area in favor of returning to the spot that had gotten him through his childhood. 

 Reaching it now, Virgil smiled fondly. 

 He saw ghosts of his past. A little kid seeking security. A teenager seeking first love. A new adult seeking comfort. 

 Here he was once again… though this time it had been so much longer since he had been back. 

 Ten whole years, in fact. 

 Now a man of 31 and successful in life—he had gone to school to become a programmer, not that either mattered to him much. 

 Just like he had earlier in life, he sought more. 

 He yearned for a part of him that hadn’t been found. A part that could only be found in another soul. 

 Virgil didn’t believe in soulmates or anything like that. Still, he did believe—for himself, at least—that to be truly complete, he needed that special someone to share his life with. 

 Otherwise, what was it all for?

 Sure, he was comfortable and healthy and relatively happy. None of that was the problem. 

 If he never found someone to share life with, he would be just fine. 

 But that wasn’t what he wanted.

 And in searching for that, it had brought Virgil back to this special and sacred place. Sure, calling it sacred sounded a little dramatic, especially to him, but the feeling was there, just the same. 

 This place was sacred… to him. 

 That was all that mattered. 

 Allowing a little eyeroll and a smirk at his dramatics, Virgil allowed his eyes to finally move skyward. 

 For a moment, Virgil couldn’t find it. His heart beat rose and he felt a rush of dread but then his gaze caught it. 

 The star was a lot dimmer than he remembered but it was the right star. His star. He was sure of it. 

 At first, he felt a little silly. He almost didn’t want to speak but something urged him to, deep inside. 

 He told himself that if he was ever going to find what he needed, he had to make amends. Even if now he knew the star was just burning gas, it didn’t matter. 

 He needed to do this. He had to see it through. 

 “Hey… star… um… it’s Virgil.”

 God, I feel so stupid.

 He pushed past the embarrassment and insecurities and went on. 

 “I… I owe you an apology.”

 He didn’t know why but the star seemed to brighten. He knew it was probably just a trick of the mind but it made him feel better. He hesitated before moving to sit on the ground. Pulling his legs up to him slightly and resting the weight of his upper body on his hands, he leaned back to look at the star. 

 For a moment, he just sat in silence.

 And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

 “Look… I’m not sure what to even say and I know you’re not actually some being that can magically hear me or whatever but I still need to say this…” If I’m to ever move on… he finished in his head, too embarrassed to even think it. 

 When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am.

 “I just… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me… everything you are to me… just… thank you. When mom died… I… I blamed you and that wasn’t fair… it wasn’t your fault… it’s just… life’s a dick… but yeah… thank you… for always being there…”

 The star seemed to flicker and Virgil couldn’t help but beam up at it. It was almost as if ten years hadn’t come and gone. 

 He shifted to lay on the ground, his hands behind his head like he used to do as a kid. He sighed and let the comfort and nostalgia blanket him in warmth. He felt safe. He felt hope. 

 Virgil felt in that moment that anything was possible.

 I just want you to know who I am.

 “I wish… I wish you could be… a person… like me. An actual human I could hold and touch. Someone I could love for who and what they are, that could love me for who and what I am…”

 He laughed softly, shaking his head, glancing away.

 I just want you to know who I am.

 “Silly, right?”

 He snorted, looking up as if sharing an inside joke with the star. For a brief moment, he thought he was seeing things. 

 His star was gone. 

 At first he thought he had just misplaced it… or had looked in the wrong place. But no, he knew that star like he knew himself and that included where in the sky it resided. 

 “What the fuck?”

 Virgil got up quickly, staring up at the sky. He then squinted as if that would help him.

 “V-Virgil?”

 Virgil spun on his heels and stared as a very attractive man dressed in slim fit slacks, a navy button down shirt patterned with stars, and rectangular metal framed glasses seemed to glide across the distance between them.

 Virgil felt torn. His first instinct was to challenge the trespasser. He could be a serial killer or something. That feeling, however, was in complete contrast to the overwhelming feeling of familiarity

 Had he gone to school with this guy or something?

 No… I’d never have forgotten someone who looks like him.

 That was true too. Virgil, being gay, found men attractive… that’s how it worked. But he had never been so attracted to anyone as he was to this man. 

 “I don’t know what your game is but uh… I’m not really in a mood to talk… you’re kinda interrupting my er… quiet time…”

 The man tilted his head, looking confused. He then continued his walk toward him until he was standing a few feet away. 

 The feeling of familiarity tripled and he narrowed his eyes slightly. 

 “Did we go to school together or something? I swear I know you but I’ve never seen you before in my life… how’d you know my name? Please don’t be a stalker or something.”

 Again, the man looked confused and also a little concerned. Then something seemed to click with him as his eyes brightened and he smiled.

 “Oh… you don’t recognize me in this form.”

 Virgil’s eyes widened. 

 Of course Mr. Perfect was clinically insane. 

 He sighed but before he could say anything, the man had closed the distance between them. Virgil jumped back. 

 “Personal bubble, dude!”

 The man looked sad and Virgil felt a rush of guilt before remembering the guy was the one acting strange.

 “I apologize… you had just asked me so many times to hold you… I’m afraid I just assumed…”

 Virgil’s eyes widened at that. He quickly looked up at the spot where his star should be. It was as empty as it had been when he first noticed…

 When this man had first shown up. 

 But that was impossible.

 Stars didn’t just become people. 

 “I’m going crazy or I’ve died…”

 The man gave him a concerned look. 

 “I can assure you that you are not dead, Virgil. I also wish you to understand… I did this…” He gestured at his body and bit his lip. “I did this for you.”

 “Oh my fucking God… you are crazy. Stars don’t become people, dude! It doesn’t happen! Stars are gas! Not sentient beings!”

 The man laughed softly and Virgil swore there was an almost twinkling sound to it. Not really what normal laughs sounded like. The man, he realized, also kind of glowed. It was so subtle though that he doubted anyone but him would notice. 

 Still, it couldn’t be… it was impossible. 

 Wasn’t it?

 He slowly moved closer, hoping it wouldn’t bite him in the ass. He’d allow himself a little silliness… if it meant that this was real. 

 Could it really be? Is there any fucking way?

 “I’ve wanted this for so long…” The man said now, just standing there and letting Virgil inspect him. He bit his lip, as if nervous. Could stars feel nervousness?

 Well… he’s… he’s human now…

 He held the other’s gaze. His eyes were brown but almost golden. There was such warmth and comfort there. Slowly, Virgil’s eyes widened. 

 “It is you!”

 Ignoring the fact that this whole situation was feeling a bit too much like a Disney movie, Virgil threw his arms around the man. 

 “You’re here… you’re actually here… I can’t believe it… I don’t even give a fuck that it should be impossible… you… you came to me…”

 Virgil looked up, ignoring the way happy tears streamed down his face. The main raised a hand, gentle fingers wiping them away. 

 “I am… I am sorry it took so long… I had tried to come sooner but as I was working on it… that one night… I worried you wouldn’t wish to see me… so I waited…”

 He smiled so warmly and lovingly down at Virgil and Virgil blushed. 

 “I knew you would return one day and then I could be with you, if that was still what you wished.”

 Virgil’s tears doubled as he laughed, nodding. 

 “You have no idea,” he said and with that he wrapped his arms around the other’s neck and kissed him desperately. He hated closing his eyes, worried that the man would vanish and the star would be back in the sky, but instinct won over his fear. Luckily, he still felt the other kissing him back. 

 Pulling away, Virgil blushed. 

 “I just realized… I don’t know what to call you… do you even have a name?”

 The man nodded, smiling down at him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. 

 “My actual name you would not be able to pronounce. But I have chosen a new one for myself, now that I no longer have need for the other. You may know me as Logan.”

 Virgil mouthed it and smiled. 

 It was the perfect name for his star. 

 “Logan,” he said and the man blushed but beamed. Virgil blushed as well but couldn’t stop smiling.

 “Virgil,” Logan said, smiling back. He then glanced up at his old home. “It’s so much different… seeing it through these eyes… and thinking… so strange... but… if you’re here… and this is your home… then I want to share it with you… if that is something you would like.”

 Virgil just threw his arms around him and buried his face into the crook of Logan’s neck. Long arms wrapped around him, embracing him. If he hadn’t quite been sure that this wasn’t all an elaborate dream, he was sure now. 

 Nothing in life had felt as safe and sound as his time with his star had and that was the exact feeling he felt now, in the other’s arms. He smiled and pressed closer. 

 “I love you, Logan.”

 He didn’t know how, but he could feel rather than see Logan’s smile. 

 “I love you, Virgil.”

 I just want you to know who I am.

———————————————–

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Thomas Sanders or Joan, nor the rest of their group. I do not own or make money off of these characters. I only own the story as it is written.

Super uber thanks to my beta reader for this fic @sunshineandteddybears​ and the two that preread my stuff to make sure its up to par: @romantichopelessly & @sunshineandteddybears.

[mikkel-nielsen]

JULIE E OS FANTASMAS & JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS

A few announcements before this long rambling message

a) I was 13 when Julie e os Fantasmas came out, so most of my takes come from that

b) I’m not gonna bash any of the shows, it’s simply my take on them and the characters

c) English is not my first language, so I’m sorry if there’s any mistakes

d) I don’t plan to post spoilers but I’ll put it on a read more either way!

JULIE & JULIE

Brazilian!Julie didn’t have a dead mom, let’s start there. Julie was also very shy and insecure, the show focused on the phantoms (+ Bia) helping her navigate her teen years, the romance she had with Daniel was a bonus.

American!Julie has a dead mom, however, her inability to sing in public seems to come from bothe the fact that music was her connection with her mom and that she has stage fright (like Brazilian!Julie). It’s interesting to see that even tho both Julies were described the same, American!Julie seemed to have more confidence in herself.

That being said, Brazilian!Julie is still my favorite, her “Emo but not really emo” attitude resonated a lot withy younger self.

BIA & FLYNN

To be honest, I don’t remember much of Bia other than her being Julie’s best friend and being described as smart. I’m gonna say that Bia could see the Phantoms without them having to be playing (I’m gonna speak more on it later)

Flynn, to me, seems to be more flashed out, even if she has little screen time, she’s also Julie’s best friend and seems to be sometimes the voice of reason. I wish we can see more of her character next season

THE PHANTOMS

An important note: in Brazil version, they had a band called Apolo 81, they were from the 80s and were clearly inspired by MCR

DANIEL & LUKE

by far the character that had most of their personality changed.

Daniel started the show being full of himself, borderline being arrogant, it was his way or his way. That, however, changed as the episodes went on, we saw a softer side to him, especially when he started to develop feelings for Julie.

Now with Luke, it seemed that they chose to skip this first part and I’m thankful for that. Daniel would often get into my nerves, and with Luke that didn’t happen. I’ll say that it would be nice see Luke and Julie bickering.

MARTIM & REGGIE

The himbo energy in this post just got to 200%.

The personality mostly stayed the same, they were both the funny one, the flirty one and honestly? My favorite!

(They’re iconic in both version and they steal the show)

FELIX & ALEX

There were some aspects that were kept the same, the are both very concerned about their status as ghosts, they seem to be very scared cats.

HOWEVER Alex definitely got the better end, he got to explore his sexuality in a story arc across the season, which didn’t happen with Felix.

OTHER CHARACTERS

Brazilian!Nick (Nicolas) outsold! He actually has a personality and something more than being interested in Julie.

Also I love how American!Julie is not so obsessed with Nick.

Thalita & Carrie were you stereotypical mean girl so no surprise there, I’ll say tho that Carrie seems very Sharpay-esque.

Brazilian!Julie’s brother actually got to have storylines that didn’t involved his tia or his family, he also had his own friends (please search the first ep and his plot with the gold fishes, it’s iconic)

About the villains: the original version had the Spectre Police, they controlled every detailed about all phantoms, one of the rules? The phantoms couldn’t show themselves to humans. THATS A CHANGE THAT I DIND’T LIKE. In the original they could choose who would see them (Julie being the exception), meaning that they could interact with the other cast.

Cheyenne’s character tho? It’s a nice spin. A ghost club where the host keeps your soul(?) also I’m excited to see what they’ll do with the whole possession thing.

OVERALL: both shows are great and if you haven’t seen the original you should totally search some clips or even their music on YouTube!!

[flowerslut]

TWILIGHT

an updated, slightly more modern take on the original soundtrack.

note: I’ve been casually working on this playlist series for most of the year, analyzing thousands of songs, and then sorting through hundreds after that. I mainly focused on finding modern, beat-for-beat replacements of each song, with exceptions here and there. This has been tons of fun and I hope you enjoy! (I’ll be posting New Moon’s playlist later this week.)

(NEW MOON) (ECLIPSE) (BREAKING DAWN)

spotify link

[track list and commentary under the cut:]

Supermassive Black Hole — Muse ➼ ➼ ➼ Machine — Imagine Dragons

Machine was the only song I even considered for this. There aren’t many songs that you can hear and think “vampire baseball”, but I think Machine is one of them. And let’s be real, if Imagine Dragons had been putting out music between 2008-12, they would’ve absolutely ended up on one of these soundtracks.

Decode — Paramore ➼ ➼ ➼ Out of My Head — Digital Daggers

Decode was easily the most difficult song to duplicate on this soundtrack, and probably on all five of them put together. I’m still not 100% content with this choice, but it was still the best contender. (It was between Out of My Head and seven other songs.) Decode is an impossible song to duplicate, but Digital Daggers has the high energy rock-like, ‘fuck with me’ attitude to their music that late aughties Paramore encapsulated.

Full Moon — The Black Ghosts ➼ ➼ ➼ Free at Dawn — Small Black

This replacement speaks for itself once you give it a listen. Just visualize panning over those foggy mountains as you listen to Free at Dawn. Go ahead. It just works.

Leave Out All The Rest — Linkin Park ➼ ➼ ➼ One More Light — Linkin Park

Okay, listen. Even if I had wanted to I would’ve never been able to replace with Linkin Park with anything other than Linkin Park. Call me a sentimental fool, but I’m still sore over Chester’s passing. I don’t care if it’s too sad of a song. I don’t care if, lyrically, it doesn’t really work. This was my #selfishchoice of the soundtrack. Linkin Park stays.

Spotlight — Mutemath ➼ ➼ ➼ The Deadroads — The Rural Alberta Advantage

Fun upbeat poppy guitar strumming? Sign us the fuck up. Another song that just works.

Go All the Way (Into the Twilight) — Perry Farrell ➼ ➼ ➼ Bright Whites — Kishi Bashi

No offense, Perry Farrell, but I never liked Go All the Way. It was always the main one on the soundtrack that I skipped when I was younger. Now, Bright Whites? Try putting that as your soundtrack’s orchestral banger, and now we’re talking.

Tremble For My Beloved — Collective Soul ➼ ➼ ➼ Song For Zula — Phosphorescent

Both songs here have a great otherworldly love song feeling to them. This was another fairly easy choice. Song For Zula is a little more upbeat and happy sounding than Tremble For My Beloved, but eh. It’s fine.

I Caught Myself — Paramore ➼ ➼ ➼ Mind over Matter (Acoustic) — PVRIS

Replacing Paramore was hard, and having to do it twice seemed like some sick joke I was playing on myself. But not many artists out there can replicate or even match the power of Hayley William’s vocals. Well, I’ve apparently been sleeping on PVRIS, because those vocals? Top tier, y’all. Once I heard Mind over Matter, it was clear it was the winner.

Eyes on Fire — Blue Foundation ➼ ➼ ➼ Unfair — The Neighbourhood

Eyes on Fire is another song nearly impossible to duplicate. I stuck with a moody The Neighbourhood instrumental to keep things dramatic without messing up the mood of that tense scene.

Never Think — Robert Pattinson ➼ ➼ ➼ I Take All the Blame — Vivek Shraya

Don’t worry. I have another Robert song on a later soundtrack replication. (I won’t tell which one.) This Tegan and Sara cover by Vivek Shraya was the obvious choice to replicate Pattinson’s acoustic hit that I still listen and fight back tears to all these years later.

Flightless Bird, American Mouth — Iron & Wine ➼ ➼ ➼ New American Classic — Taking Back Sunday

And behold, (what I believe is) the biggest change made to the soundtrack. And also an older song than anyone probably expected. (The album Where You Want To Be came out in 2004.) I tried other modern-day acoustic dudes. Sorry, but they don’t match up to Iron & Wine. (And don’t freak out about lack of Hozier, he’s coming. Be patient.) A classic was the obvious choice, and a New American Classic ended up winning this one. I think it’s perfect, but that might just be my high school emo phase acting up again. Doesn’t matter if that phase ended up overlapping with my introduction to Twilight...

Bella’s Lullaby — Carter Burwell ➼ ➼ ➼ Rêves — Nuit Pluie

Not much of a reason for this. I wanted a lullaby-esque piano melody. That’s what we’ve got with this one.

Now, a lot of the time the soundtracks for the Twilight Saga would add a song or three to their lists depending on the country, the edition, the purchase location, etc. (This is my own version of giving myself a Free Space.) For Twilight, I gift you two bonus tracks:

This Is For Keeps — The Spill Canvas

The One Fell Swoop album by The Spill Canvas was a Twilight-era staple for myself and a lot of people who were in their mid-to-late teens during Twilight’s release. I mean, listen to the song. The lyrics, the melody, the mood. It’s like the song was a collab with Stephenie Meyer herself. (And with it’s release in 2005, the same year of Twilight’s publication, who really knows...)

Monsters — Matchbook Romance

I know it’s another mid-00 song. I know this is supposed to be a ‘modern take’ on the soundtrack. I know, I get it. This song is only added just because I was really bummed about 15 Step by Radiohead being left out of the actual Twilight Soundtrack back in the day. Like, how are you going to have them play during the credits and not supply us with it on the soundtrack? So here’s a slightly-harder rock jam that, lyrically, just screams paranormal banger.

[always-and-forever-a-killjoy]

Good morning fuckers, after a brief fluffy break, I’m back on my angsty bullshit. This time, I’m tormenting...guess who...

Yeah, it’s Cherri Cola. 

Anyways! Please pay careful attention to the warnings this time, this is incredibly dark and I want you all to be safe. Also Newsie and him have a sibling dynamic because fuck you (no, really because I want fun sibling dynamics.)

Title: all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me

Wordcount: 2910

Summary: Cherri Cola has seen too much to want to survive this world. Luckily for him, his family wants him to live, and so do a snarky bird deity and a trio of teenagers.

Aka the story of how Cherri Cola met the Fabulous Four before there were even four of them, and learned a few valuable lessons along the way. 

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, a suicide attempt, hospitals, blood, flashbacks, self-harm, injury, mentions of addiction, (very brief) mentions of needles.

Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)

AO3 Link

(Actual fic under the cut)

Cherri Cola stared at the door of the radio station, hyperaware of the sunlight that filtered through the cracks even as he tuned out the rest of the world, slumped on the floor of the station. Darkness, it was always darkness. He was always trapped in the dark somehow. But the sunlight was worse. Sunlight was worse. 

He didn’t know who or what he was trying to convince as his nails sunk into his arms. It felt like suffocating; the darkness was endless and filled with thorns that kept him in. The memories never left and the deeds he had done could never be paid for. Not if he lived a hundred years or a thousand. He didn’t deserve to live that long anyways.

He stared at the door, the faint beams of sunlight filtering around the edges. Maybe he should get up and walk out that door. Let the sunlight take him, see how long it took him to die in the desert heat. Maybe he didn’t deserve to live at all.

No. You promised D you wouldn’t. He ranked his nails down his arms, digging deeply enough to leave welts. You. Promised. A promise was a promise. He couldn’t leave Dr. Death Defying. He couldn’t leave NewsAGoGo.

Cherri didn’t realize how deeply he had been digging his nails until the scratches on his wrists started to bleed. Blood. It always came back to blood, didn’t it? Blood of someone he had called sister, pooling around her as he sobbed. Blood of his friends, lying too still on the battlefield and in the sand and on beds in the hospital in Zone 2. Blood of the dracs he had killed, splattered all over him. His own blood, running down his forearms and coating his hands just like the blood of all the innocents who fell to his ray gun.

Suddenly filled with a new surge of energy, he climbed to his feet. Almost mechanically, he went through the motions of putting the poem he had been working on before this all away, knowing how much it bothered D when he left his poetry everywhere. It took longer than it normally would have, his movements slowed by the pain on his wrists and his general lethargy, but it felt like only a second before everything was neatly stowed away.

Cherri Cola looked at the door, squared his shoulders, and walked out into the light.

He walked. And walked. And walked and walked. (And walked.) To his surprise, the sunlight didn’t promise relief like it had always seemed to. All it promised was a harsh death.

Not that Cherri minded that much either. 

He lost track of the hours, lost track of the days after far too little. There was no change in the landscape, not once he got far enough that the radio station was out of sight. The sunlight never seemed to let up, only briefly pausing while he slept. Summertime was the worst time of the year in the desert, it was universally agreed, but the only difference it made to him was more hours of daylight. More scorching sun as his throat grew dry and the desert started to warp around him. Heatstroke, he had the capacity to think still, even as he staggered and fell. Well, this is the end.

He wondered if the Phoenix Witch would come to claim him. Probably not, unless someone put his mask in the mailbox. He knew Newsie knew where it was; she was the only one who knew where his mask and ray gun were stashed. Newsie. His mind could conjure up all too vividly the image of his friend holding the pink mask in her hands, placing it in the mailbox with a whisper of a prayer. Would Newsie cry for him? A tiny, selfish part of him hoped so, hoped he would be missed, but the logical, ruthless side of his mind pointed out that he was just…Cola. Just an old wavehead who could never escape his own mind. A killer, a Ritalin rat, nothing but a worthless excuse for a sibling and a friend. That part hoped Newsie wouldn’t shed a tear. He didn’t deserve her grief. He had abandoned her.

He had abandoned her. Newsie had been almost more of a sister to Cherri than the one he had fought on the battlefields of the Analog Wars, and he had abandoned her. He had left her just like his older sibling had left him, all those many years ago. He was as bad- no, he was worse. His sister had never had a choice. Better Living Industries had taken her and turned her into a weapon, and it had never been her choice at all. It had always been his choice. It had been his choice to fight, to kill and maim and seek vengeance at all costs, his choice to turn to the relief of sunlight and run from what plagued him, and now his choice to leave behind the people he loved.

Cherri scrabbled at the sand, suddenly filled with renewed determination. He owned it to Newsie to try and get back alive, at the very least. He couldn’t just lay here. He had to go, go home to the people he had grown to love.

Getting up didn’t seem to be an option, the shifting sand throwing off what little balance he had and easily overwhelming his spent muscles. Crawling wasn’t any better, that took strength that he didn’t have any longer. So he reached out a hand and inched himself along, slowly and painfully rolling what he thought was back the way he came.

He hardly made it two feet before he collapsed fully again, unable to move himself another inch. No! Get home, I have to get home- 

His eyes fell on taloned(??) feet as he lay in the scorching sand, and he looked up to see a crow-like figure almost crouched above him, tilting her head further than any human should be able to. The Phoenix Witch?

“Am- am I dead?” He croaked.

“Not yet.” His heart surged in hope, despite his earlier wishes, only to be squashed again by her next words. “You’re dying, though.”

“No! I can’t- I- Newsie.”

The Witch’s smile was not kind. “Why are you so upset, huh? Isn’t this what you wanted? Or,” she went on mercilessly, “have you realized there is a point to staying alive after all?”

Cherri shoved down his pride. “There’s a point and-“ he coughed, sand getting into his mouth. “-that point is my sister.”

“Your sister is dead, hon.” She let out a small cackle of amusement as he tried to speak again, finding it even harder than before. “I know who you meant, Cherri Cola. And I know exactly where she is right now, and what she’s doing.”

“What- what is she-“

“Looking for you, sugar. They all are. You’ve got the radio crew in a stir, as people say, all ‘cause you couldn’t blow your brains out like a normal person. Lucky for you though, and them, seeing as you’re not dead yet.”

“Well I’m not dying. Not-“ cough “-not until I can see my sister again.”

“You’ll see one of your sisters if you’re dead,” The Phoenix Witch shrugged.

“I’m still-“ cough “-not dying.”

“Stubborn one, aren’t you? Especially for someone who didn’t care if he lived or not just hours ago.” She tapped him on the forehead. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Cherri Cola. You don’t want to die. You want to not be in pain any longer. And to you, those seem like the same thing. But this isn’t the only route out of your grief, and it’s certainly not a painless one for the people around you. They care, you know.”

“Really?”

“Of course they do. Dumbass. NewsAGoGo cried when she realized you were gone, and so did your beloved Dr. Death Defying. They’ll be hurt worse once they realize you really are dead.”

Guilt swirled in his stomach. “I’m not dead. And-“ cough “-I’m not going to be.”

“Honey, you’re on death’s doorstep. Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to see me.” She seemed to take pity on him, kneeling next to him and brushing some of the sand away so he could speak better. “I’ll make you a deal, though, a one-time sort of offer. I won’t take you yet, and I’ll make sure you live, on one condition: you have to give me something.”

“What?”

“Anything. I want something that means something to you, though. A piece of your soul, as it were.”

It took him a moment, but “Would a bracelet do?”

“Only if it means something to you.”

“Newsie made it for me.”

She seemed to consider his offer for a moment before swiping the bracelet from his wrist. “Very well, Cherri Cola. Enjoy however many more years of life this will buy you.”

The last thing he saw was a swirl of crow feathers before the world went dark.

-

He woke up briefly who knew how long later to a redhead teen leaning over him, tilting their head. 

“Nah, I think he’s dead, Jet.”

“He looks pretty dead to me.”

“No, shh, Kobes, Party. I swear I saw him move.”

“Nah, he’s gotta be dead.”

“I swear! He was moving, and look, I think he’s breathing!”

Cherri did his best to move his head and hoped they caught on, but even that small movement sent a surge of dizziness through him, and he blacked out again before he could hear any more of the teenagers’ conversation.

-

When he woke up for the second time, he was lying on a somewhat uncomfortable bed in a room he had never seen before, and everything on his entire body hurt. There was an IV stabbed into his arm, and his forearms were neatly bandaged, which made him think this must be a hospital. It certainly wasn’t the radio station.

The person who poked his head into the room a few minutes later confirmed Cherri’s suspicions, as he was quite clearly a medic. “Oh, you’re awake!”

Cherri managed a tired nod as the medic came fully into the room.

“How are you feeling?”

“In a fair bit of pain, but I’ll live.”

“Hmm. Anything in particular, or no?”

Cherri shook his head, and the medic offered a grin. 

“You’re not going to be having a great time of it, sorry about that. Almost dying of heatstroke will do that to you. You’re pretty lucky your friends got you here in time. Oh, and I’m Max, by the way. Your name is?”

“Cherri Cola. My friends brought me in?”

“Well, I’m assuming they’re your friends, anyways. Redhead kid with a smirk like the devil, tall blond kid, and that guy with a really nice smile?” Cherri was reasonably certain he had never met those kids in his life. “No?”

“Huh. Well, anyways, I’ll send them in once I finish my checks, they might be able to explain more than I can.”

True to Max’s word, a few minutes later, a redhead with a smirk like the devil, a tall blond kid, and a brown-haired kid with a friendly smile walked in.

He felt like he should probably say hello or something, but the redhead spoke before he could. “So who the fuck are you, anyways?”

“That’s a good question. Haven’t quite worked out the answer to that one yet, but my name is Cherri Cola if that’s what you’re asking. He/him.”

“Fucking fantastic. So we picked up a random stranger and waited at the hospital for him to wake up.”

The tallest one, the one with a friendly smile, sighed. “Sorry about Poison, they’re mad that the medics made us wait here because there would be no one else to visit you and pick you up when you were healed. I’m Jet Star, by the way. They/them or he/him.”

“Kobra Kid,” The blonde said. “He/him.”

“And I’m Party Poison,” declared the one who had demanded to know who Cherri was. “They/them.”

“Well, uh, nice to meet you. Thank you for taking me to the hospital, I suppose.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, not even us would leave some guy lying there.”

“We almost did, but that’s because we thought you were dead,” Kobra Kid chimed in. He bore a distinct resemblance to Party Poison, both in face and voice, and Cherri was starting to wonder if they were related.

He shook that thought off, trying to focus on what was most important right now. “How long until I can leave the hospital?”

Jet Star was the one to answer that. “Probably another two days or so, you were in pretty bad shape from what I hear.”

“And you’re going to have some badass scars, apparently,” Kobra Kid agreed.

“And do my friends know I’m here?”

Party Poison snorted. “How should we know? We don’t even know who your friends are.”

“D and Newsie- sorry, Dr. Death Defying and NewsAGoGo?”

“Radio DJs, right? We know of them, but we’ve got no real way to contact them,” Party Poison told him.

“We can drive you where you need to go, though, once they release you,” Jet Star offered kindly. 

“That would be great, thank you guys so much.” 

-

So two days later, Cherri Cola was being bustled into the back of an old trans am by three teenagers. Party Poison was driving, and Kobra Kid had claimed shotgun, leaving Jet Star to sit in the back with Cherri. He didn’t mind that, as they seemed the most friendly. He even found himself chatting a bit with them as the siblings (turned out they were, in fact, related) laughed and debated in the front.

“So how long have you been out here?” Cherri asked. That tended to be a fairly safe question- killjoys didn’t talk about their past in Battery City, typically, but how long someone had been out in the Zones was a much safer topic.

“Maybe…fifteen years? I was born out here,” Jet Star explained. “So I don’t quite know, but I think I’m fifteen or sixteen.”

“Ah.” He felt rather old, suddenly. “I’ve been out here since soon after the Helium Wars ended.”

“Wow,” Jet breathed. “You must have seen a lot.”

Cherri stared at the scars on his hands. “Yeah.”

Jet’s hands were nearly equally scarred, although not the same wavehead scars, as they reached out a hand in understanding. “The Zones aren’t always kind.”

He offered them a wane smile. “No, they’re not.”

That was the end of their conversation, as at that moment, the car screeched to a stop in front of the radio station. 

Party Poison hopped out of the drivers seat and knocked loudly on the door as the rest followed behind.

Said door was opened by Show Pony, looking mildly frazzled. “Hey, sugar! Whatcha need?”

“I think we’ve got your friend.”

Ey looked puzzled for a second, and then eir gaze fell on Cherri, standing behind Party Poison with Jet and Kobra Kid. “Cola! Holy- Destroya, Cola!” Ey pushed past the red-haired teen with ease, skating down to throw eir arms around him. “We thought you’d gotten yourself dusted!”

“Not dusted, I’m afraid,” Cherri mumbled.

“Well, good!” Ey turned to holler back into the radio station. “Newsie! Dr. D! Get out here!”

Newsie’s hurried footsteps echoed from within the radio station, and Cherri’s words stuck in his throat as she froze in the doorway. 

“Hey,” He managed.

“Cherri FUCKING Cola, you complete and utter BASTARD!” 

He winced as Newise hugged him tightly, still swearing at him. “You fucker, you little dipshit, you absolute dumbass, we thought you were dead! We thought you were fucking dead, fuckwad!”

“I’m sorry, Newsie.”

“You better fucking be! Rat bastard!”

That was when Dr. Death Defying arrived, with a lot less swearing and fierce hugging, but certainly some scolding. “You scared all of us half to death, Cherri.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“He was half to death too, but of heatstroke, not of fright,” Kobra Kid contributed (very unhelpfully, in Cherri’s opinion).

“That doesn’t make me feel any fucking better,” Newsie muttered.

“Also, infection and dehydration,” Party Poison added.

Cherri sighed. “Not helping, guys.”

“Who are these fine ‘joys?” Pony asked.

“The Terrific Trio!” Jet cheered. “Well, the name is a work in progress. I’m Jet Star. He/him and they/them.”

“Party Poison. They/them. And I’m in charge.”

Kobra Kid snorted. “Kobra Kid. He/him.”

“They saved my life,” Cherri chimed in.

D offered the three young killjoys a warm smile. “Well, we’re very glad you did. I’m Dr. Death Defying, he/him.”

“NewsAGoGo, she/they.”

“An’ I’m Show Pony. Ey/em.”

Eventually, they all headed inside the radio station, where the trio was given some power pup for their trouble, and Cherri was given a lot of lectures and hugging for his. He would have a lot of explaining to do later, he knew, but he preferred to wait as long as possible to see the worry and fear on his friend’s faces. So just for tonight, he was going to revel in the fact that he was alive and here with his friends. That was the most important thing.

Cherri glanced down at his wrist, which felt strangely empty despite the bandages covering it, and smiled quietly to himself. “Hey, Newsie, what do you think about making another bracelet?”

[zukofenty]

Sugar

➜ Summary: The one where there’s a former skateboarding photographer turned teenaged masked vigilante running around protecting the city from crime. Yet, Katara always knew she wasn’t meant to just sit a good fight out.

“Did you just fucking slap me?” Zuko is incredulous, clutching his reddening man tit.

“Yeah, what are you going to do about it? Be mad?” Katara bites back.

➜ Genre: Spiderman!AU, Modern!AU, humor

➜ Words: 3.8k

➜ Warnings: I love Zuko😩

AO3, My Zutara Month Playlist

@zutaramonth​ hi!!! this my late day 1 hehe

“Self care 2020 is officially over. We’re doing drugs again.” 

  Suki stares at Katara quizzically. “No, I don’t think that’s how it goes.” 

  “Are you sure?” Katara asks, puzzled. Suki just rolls her eyes, picking at her chipping manicure as Katara focuses on her biology homework. 

  “It’s only been like two weeks into the New Year. Yeah, I’m sure,” Suki deadpans. “What makes you think that doing drugs again is remotely going to-” Her rant is abruptly cut off at the sound of commotion coming from the courtyard. “Fuck, not Jet again.” 

  Katara jumps to her feet. Not this bitch again . Before she has to do more damage control than Camila Cabello’s publicist every time she opens her mouth and something stupid (and/or racist) for the 1000th time, Katara surveyed the scene before her. Freshman Aang, still prepubescent and so, so tiny was spared from having his face shoved in a moldy grilled cheese sandwich the cafeteria gave to kids who couldn’t afford lunch (yay public school!). He’s not facing Jet’s usual wrath inflicted on any short king 5’9” and under. Instead, a figure was gasping for air in an oversized black hoodie, hands clawing at Jet’s angular face. 

  “Hey Jet!” Katara yelps, pulling the tall boy up by his belt loops. He pauses in pummeling Zuko’s oh so pretty face, and grins unabashedly at Katara. The smile she knows is only reserved for her. 

  “Yes, Katara?” He smirks when he could almost hear pussies clench. He knows his power. 

  She smiles back at him, making it almost reach her eyes. “I did a little research, and guess what?” 

  “What?” 

  She pushes her bangs from her eyes, looking so sweet and innocent in her blazer and her signature knee length boots. “You’re a whore. A dumb whore.” He can’t help but let anger paint his face. “Leave these damn kids alone ! Don’t you have another class to ditch? A military program to join? A car to mod? Find a hobby. Go to therapy. Stupid.” 

  Her hair flows whips around as quickly as she does, flowing and bouncing effortlessly as she heads to AP Chemistry. 

  Zuko smiles, despite the pain in his chest from where Jet shoved his converse into. He thinks he loves her. Or what anti social kids like him thought love was because he doesn’t think she knows who he is. So polished and passionate about everything she does. Captain of the debate team, president of the Student Advocate’s club, and head intern at Phoenix Corporations in working on projects to mass clean polluted waters. She managed to do everything and still have kindness in her soul. The kind of love that you could almost feel surrounding a person. 

  He decides he likes staring at her, even if it’s the back of her head during chemistry. It was too easy to fall in love, when she was yelling at him to photograph the debate club’s photos in a certain light so they could post it on their Facebook for student recruitment season. He manages to always trip on his laces every time he’s around her, or stumble on his skateboard when she sends a small smile his way as they pass each other in the hallway of Ba Sing Se Academy. It’s always worth the detention Principal Pakku serves his way, if it meant he could get her attention. 

  In high school, guys like him and girls like her weren’t meant to be together. He’s impossibly clumsy, according to Uncle Iroh, and dangerously emo, according to everyone else. Katara, well she’s meant for bigger and better things, she’s meant to be out in the world and changing it. 

  She startles him, the way she turns so fast her ponytail narrowly misses his bruised face. “It was great what you did. It was kind of fucking stupid. But great.” 

  “Thank you?” 

  Katara beams impossibly wide. “You’re welcome. What’s your name?” 

  Zuko’s giving her a lopsided smile. “You don’t know my name?” 

  “Am I supposed to? You know I only keep up with Black Chyna and the lord.” Her wide eyes squint in a smile. His heart thunders, and he somehow feels as though Katara could sense it, with how much bigger her smile gets. 

  //

  “Welcome to the company single handedly transforming the genetic and biological industry. The future lies within!” The monitor’s voice announces repeatedly, Phoenix Corporation’s recognizable slogan. 

  Zuko’s in awe. He wasn’t meant for a world like this, with fancy lab coats and holographic presentations and people with glasses spewing larger than life terms. Hell, the revolving doors got him fucked up! That shit was too advanced for his liking. Science was his thing , but this was entirely out of his league. He donned glasses as an homage to a father he had never known, abandoning him when he was a baby on his Uncle Iroh’s doorstep. A labcoat was handed his way after the intern program directors approved with the badge of some guy named “Lee.” Zuko desperately tries to ignore the pleas of the real Lee coming from the lobby of the building. 

  “I swear I have a badge, I swear I’m an intern here!” 

  A guard shoves him out the door. “Can it, zit bitch!” 

  “I don’t think security guards are supposed to pick at people’s insecurities,” Lee whimpers. 

  He’s avoiding eye contact as Katara prattles away, taking the sweaty interns every which way through the company’s headquarters. “And here is Dr. Ozai, who will be discussing his cross elemental genetics project.” 

  He’s a formidable man. Tall, broad shoulders. He looks intensely polished, the type of man that always gets his way. The type of man who refuses anything less than what he wants. Zuko can’t help but stare. He looks different from the pictures Zuko found in Iroh’s basement. Meaner . Is this what he will look like in the future? He tries not to think about it too hard.  “Does anyone know the history of the firebenders are?” Zuko sees Ozai relishing in the confused faces of the teens, oily foreheads seemingly glistening in the fluorescent lighting. 

  “They were-”

  Zuko promptly interrupts him. “They were born with the ability to will fire any way they wanted. Legend has it that benders were born with abilities to manipulate all the elements: water, earth, fire, air. These people were invincible.” 

  Ozai smirks. A first for him, a student who understood his work. “Yes, all true. But the truly powerful ones were the ones who could firebend. This element is the most destructive, yet can bring beauty all at once.” He pauses to bring a holographic video to the attention of the students. “My goal is to recreate this ability that once came so easily to our ancestors. To bring humankind to be this powerful again. Where nothing will ever get in our way, no illness, no fear. Just us and the elements, joined together once more.” 

  As the fellow interns become increasingly enraptured by the presentation detailing his work, Ozai turns to Katara reviewing notes for the rest of the office tour. “Who was that kid?” She couldn’t help but feel pride in her soul. As she turns to introduce him to her mentor, her brows furrow in confusion. He’s nowhere to be found.

  //

  He hadn’t meant to sneak into the top secret chamber of research, he swears. One minute he’s looking for a bathroom because he downed one too many Fiji waters because they were fancy and he wanted to feel fancy. And then of course he’s distracted by pretty buttons, and of course the rebel in him is able to remember the passcode scientists used to enter this top secret chamber. (The password was “thrussy.”) 

  He certainly hadn’t meant to get burned. He hastily climbed into the empty tube to hide himself as security guards routinely checked the room. While trying to unlock the door, of course he just had to trip on his laces, and of course he just had to press some button. Next thing he knew, he was surrounded by rainbow colored flames, engulfing his body. He remembers the last thing he searched on his computer was “what are furries festival” and prays that the police spares that from the report when they investigate his death. 

  But, he’s fine. He’s more than fine. He’s fucking fantastic . He’s strong, he has the reflexes of a fucking ninja, and he can conjure fucking flames from his hands. From his hands! 

  He practices every night, after the day at Phoenix Corp. He singed his towels, accidentally broke open his medicine cabinet when he reached for his anti depressants, and exploded his Aveeno bedside lotion. There’s an abandoned building near his apartment, and he climbs to the rooftop every night to control his newfound powers. He’s not clumsy, and swears he can rival Tony Hawk with his skateboarding abilities.

  But the best part is how agile he’s become. He’s strong, noodle arms now muscular. His baggy shirts like a conscious fashion choice, and not just because they were the cheapest in the Walmart clearance rack. The kids that ignored him and continued to make out in front of his locker without any consequence? Pushed to the ground. The bully targeting petite kings? Basketball shoved firmly into his head. 

  “I’m trying my hardest to stop being mean. It’s really not my fault everyone is so fucking stupid.” Zuko petulantly stares at the suspension slip Pakku had written as he waits for Iroh to finish speaking to the principal. Apparently justice has consequences. 

  “Zuko!” Katara serious tone is heavily contrasted with laughter. 

  “Fine, you caught me. I’ve been ditching therapy to hotbox in the Denny’s parking lot.” 

  Katara huffs. “Denny’s? Really, bitch? You couldn’t have chosen, I don’t know, Target at least. Here I thought you were classy.” 

  Their collective laughter was interrupted by Iroh’s appearance, anger maring his usually gentle face. “We’ll talk about this later. Zuko, you know better than this. Why did you have to humiliate that boy?” 

  “He deserved it!” 

  “Enough! I’m have to pick up some later shifts at the tea shop today. Show up for yours today, too.” Zuko senses his uncle has more to say, more to berate him for. He just looks exhausted . Defeated. It’s all his damn fault. Iroh swerves to Katara. “He has you on his computer by the way! I’m his parole officer, nice to meet you.”  Zuko’s mouth falls open, trying to explain to Katara who is barely holding herself together with how loudly she’s guffawing. 

  “I love you,” Iroh says, moving to exit out the school.

  “I know.” Zuko starts to move away, before he pauses. “I love you, too.” 

//

  He thought, you get the girl, you get the firebending skills and you get hot and everything is ok. Everything is perfect. The universe has so many ways to fuck up your life, because serenity is just too easy. 

  Zuko’s heart clenches, staring at his Uncle’s body. There are tears that promise to slip, but never embark on their journey. A monitor nearby is noisily beeping, a tired nurse pats Zuko gently on the back. He’s becoming a recognizable figure, after all he does visit his Uncle Iroh two times a day. 

  It’s his fault . 

  It’s a thought that becomes permanent in his mind. It’s his fault that he lost track of training himself, and didn’t show up for his shift. It’s his fault that Iroh was running around the whole damn city looking for him. It’s his fucking fault his uncle was beat nearly half to death by robbers. 

  He grabs his uncle’s limp hands gently between his own calloused ones. “I’m going to make this right. I’m going to make you proud.” He slips away before he can feel his heart threatens to simply stop, unable to process the infinite pain he feels. 

  //

He glances at his watch nervous for multiple reasons. One, that he was going to miss his shift at the tea shop and get lectured again by June, his neighbor who has graciously taken over running the shop and housing Zuko until Iroh wakes from his coma. Two, that if he stares at the sea prunes any longer without actually eating them, Katara’s grandma would start laughing at him. Three, if Katara’s father kept glaring at him he would combust with how fucking nervous he was. It didn’t help he snuck in through Katara’s window and Hakoda had discovered him watching Tik Toks on her bed. 

  The dinner was a bust. Halfway through and he’s already gotten in an argument with the police chief over a certain masked figure. 

  “I think his name is The Blue Spirit.” Zuko admits, fighting to hide a smile. 

  Hakoda stares down at the boy. “More like Blue Dipshit. He’s destroying the city!” Katara quickly steps in as the argument grows heated, taking Zuko out to her building’s rooftop. 

  “Oh my god, you should be glad he didn’t shoot your ass up.” Katara clutches the railing, staring out to the city lights. 

  The same city lights he lives by, swears by. He remembers trying to seek out his uncle’s attacker. A man named Zhao notorious for his violent temper and attacks on the city’s elderly. He was able to run into his gaggle of minions on his nights long quest. While they had successfully nearly beat him to a pulp, he swears he’s set a few jackets on fire and managed to outrun them. Even if it meant he had fallen through an unbuilt building, tumbling down six stories before landing in the pits of a former fight club. He saw it then, the Blue Spirit legend. An ancient swordsman who dominated the underground scene. 

  He decided he was going to be the best damn superhero the world had seen. Even if it meant wearing an all black leotard every night. He designed it to best complement his firebending, resistant to the heat. The mask he slipped on every night, built to protect both him and his identity. The swords at his back that he’s been training with hours on end. 

“Are you a cop?” he remembers his uncle’s attacker questioning, his new target blocked by Zuko’s presence. 

  “Really? You think a cop is going to be wearing a blue face mask and black spandex?” He doesn’t remember much of that night, anger too palpable and blinding his senses. All he will admit to is leaving him in some police car. Not the bruises littering the bandit’s body. Or his missing pants. 

  “I have to tell you something.” He joins Katara at the railing. 

  She gasps. “I knew it! You listen to Post Malone unironically.” 

  “No, god no. I haven’t hit rock bottom yet to start doing that.” He’s proud of himself for making her laugh. 

  “What’s up?” She asks. He can’t back out now. Not when she’s looking at him like he’s the whole world, not when she’s become his whole world. 

  “I-I can’t” He stutters, breaking their eye contact. 

  She nods in quiet understanding, turning away from him to walk back to her apartment. Zuko sighs, rubbing a hand at his forehead. “ Fuck.”

  He conjures up a storm of flames to surround Katara. The force was enough to whirl her around and towards him, waiting to catch her in his arms. 

  “What the fuck was that?” Katara yelps, before being cut off with the feeling of Zuko’s lips pressed against hers. 

  “I just wanted to let you know. I Am. A. God.” He swears, the flames growing steadily from his palms.  

  “I’m kind of scared of you right now. Not because of the firebending or anything, just because the amount of testosterone is making me nervous.” She initiates the kiss this time. Her lip gloss tastes sweet, and he keeps kissing her until her lips become chapped. His hands can’t help but roam her body, her hands teasing and finding contact with his toned stomach beneath his hoodie. 

  “Are you kidding me!” Sokka calls from the rooftop’s entrance, hands covering his eyes. “I swear to Spirits above Zuko I am not afraid to castrate you right here right now. Katara, get the fuck inside!” 

  Zuko blushes. 

  // 

“Katara, you’re so incredibly mature for your age.” Hama insists. 

  Katara is beaming. “Thanks, it’s the childhood trauma!” 

  The chemistry teacher freezes, looking at the still smiling girl peculiarly. “Um, well. My point is, it’s not worth it. I-I know it’s none of my business. I just see so much of myself in you. Including the mistakes I know you’re going to make. Honey, it’s not worth mixing yourself up with a guy that’s only more trouble than anything else. You’re going to go to the best college in the nation, I just know it. You just can’t afford to lose your focus now. Been there, done that. It’s not worth it.” 

  She smiled seemingly understandingly, struggling to keep her mouth shut. If only she knew. 

  The Blue Spirit couldn’t fight all the crime in the city alone. As much as Zuko was convinced he was the shit, he really wasn’t. The Blue Spirit couldn’t dare match up to The Painted Lady. 

“You’re The Painted Lady?” Zuko questions, eyes closed in confusion while trying to process all the information. To be fair, he’s only gotten two hours of sleep a night ever since his life as The Blue Spirit began. He’s convinced the police really only sit around and eat donuts. If this was Law and Order: SVU , he just knew Olivia Benson wouldn’t need a masked teenager saving people. He opens his eyes when he begins to feel pulsating water near his wounds, Katara controlling its every movement as it works its way through his wounds. 

  After reuniting with his father and become an official intern at Phoenix Corp, he soon realized his father was not as occupied with cross elemental theories. No, he was much more focused on how to resurrect the dragons of the world. The true firebenders, he noted. Zuko had found hidden notes his mother had written before leaving his father. Partners in crime, they were working on their research together. Before his mother had left with the solution, before his father could understand the consequences of his work. Before his father had made himself a subject and injected their concoction into himself, become a half scaled half human hybrid roaming the sewers of the city. 

  He had found his father, bitter to no end as he continues producing the serum that was supposed to make the most powerful being on the planet. Zuko was left with gashes in his chest that made him wanted to vomit with how much blood was pouring out. He was left to die in dirty sewage water, his father cackling as he disappeared. Until she showed up. 

  The Painted Lady. 

  The city’s emblem, etched on coins and dollar bills. He’s heard rumors about her cleaning up the city’s rivers, healing patients doctors long gave up on. Her grandmother had told her their family comes from a long line of waterbenders, the last one born 400 years ago. She had her swear never to reveal her talents, never talk about it, never do anything about it. It was dangerous, the government would want to talk to her. She would disappear, the whole family would be in danger But Katara was never one to listen to directions very well. 

  “Did you just fucking slap me?” Zuko is incredulous, clutching his reddening man tit. She’s nearly healed all the cuts on his body at the hands of his father’s claws. The burn from a dragon is more painful than any other, and Katara’s upset. She can’t heal his eye, no matter how hard she tries. 

  “Yeah, what are you going to do about it? Be mad?” Katara bites back. She pauses the water disappearing from her hands and back onto the mug on her night stand. “I can’t believe you’re so fucking stupid.” She’s in his lap, clad in only a t shirt. Her hair falls in her eyes as she returns to heal his wounds, and he gingerly brushes the strand out from blocking her. 

  “I know.” Zuko couldn’t help but press a kiss to her cheek. 

  “Don’t return the sweatpants,” Katara throws out. 

  Zuko raises his eyebrow. “Why, doesn’t Sokka want these back?” 

  “He says, ‘I don’t want emo butt juice on them,’” Katara shrugs. 

  He blows a stray hair from his scarred eye out of frustration. “I consider myself chic punk more than anything else.” 

  She pauses again. “What if there’s more of us out there?” Katara uneasily peers up at his questioning stare. “More benders?” 

  Even with all the tests and insistence Ozai had for recreating this power, Zuko had been the only successful case. The only person to fully exhibit the power of his ancestors. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t they need to go through some sort of freak accident like I did?” 

  “What if your power was suppressed this whole time?” 

  He contemplates the idea, hands rubbing up and down her waist. 

  “I think my grandma used to say something like ‘One queef and this whole building could tumble down.’”

  He is glaring at her quizzically. “No I don’t think that’s right. What does that even mean?” 

  “It means, life as we know it will change forever. If we find other benders to defeat your father. If we expose what bending is. Hell, the city still thinks you use jetpacks to propel yourself around the city.” 

  He pecks chastely at her lips. She hates how easily she’s able to relax when he kisses away her worries. “You know, I used to think if I had a boyfriend I would simply go beat pedophiles to death with him as a hobby. I don’t know whether or not to be delighted this has come true.” 

  “As long as The Blue Spirit always has The Painted Lady. Everything will be alright.” 

  “You promise?” 

  “You rise with moon. He does, too.” Zuko’s staring at the mask in his hand. His other hand firmly around Katara’s. 

[dr-gloom]

Confession Time, Here’s What I Got (Ch 3)

Commission Me (please)

Ch 1  Ch 2

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 9

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Pairing: Moxiety

Tags/Warnings: cute dates, slight angst, confessions

Read it on AO3

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“You said… me.”

Virgil was never going to drink again for the rest of his life. Damn Past Virgil for getting drunk and spilling the one secret he was ready to take to his grave. Virgil looks at Patton’s face, at his wide eyes and slightly slack jaw and light blush, and his heart sinks. Patton doesn’t feel the same. Hell, he looks embarrassed. Embarrassed that someone like Virgil has feelings for him, or embarrassed for Virgil, he isn’t sure, but neither one is really better than the other. 

Should he deny it? Say it was just the alcohol talking? Would Patton believe him? Probably not, honestly. Virgil sighs. 

“If you want me to leave, I-”

“What? No! Why would I want you to leave?” Patton questions, his look of surprised embarrassment turning to concern. And God, what Virgil wouldn’t give to not be having this conversation. 

“Look, I know you don’t feel the same way about me-”

“But I do! I mean, I like you! A lot! And I’m sorry I keep interrupting you,” at this point, laughter leaks into Patton’s speech. “But you’re absolutely crazy if you think I don’t like you, or that I’d want you to move out if I didn’t!” He takes Virgil’s hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re my best friend, Virge. Romantic feelings or not, you mean too much to me for something like this to get in the way.”

Virgil blushes and looks down. He honestly hadn’t been expecting that. “I thought… I thought you and Logan were a thing. Or like… I thought you at least liked each other…”

Patton smiles. “Nope. Lolo is like a brother to me. That’d be kinda weird.”

“Affirmative,” Logan speaks up from the couch. Wow, Virgil had honestly forgotten he was there. He chews on his bottom lip. 

“So uh… What now?”

“Well… That’s up to you. I’m okay with whatever you decide, because I don’t wanna rush you or push you into anything. Okay? We can go at your pace - or! Or pretend this never happened! If like, you wanted to… do that… Yeah.” Patton shrugs awkwardly, obviously nervous. It’s kind of cute. 

Virgil smiles and squeezes Patton’s hand. “Well uh… I wouldn’t mind goin’ on a date. See how it feels and shit.”

Patton’s face lights up, making Virgil’s heart flutter. “Great! Did you wanna- can I plan it? Please? Pretty please?”

Virgil laughs lightly and nods. “Yeah Pat, go for it.”

Patton makes an excited noise, flapping his hands, and immediately runs off to his room.

“Congratulations, Virgil.”

“Thanks, L.”

____________________________________________________________

“I can’t believe it finally happened, I feel like I’ve been waiting one year, two months, and twenty-five days!” Roman exclaims as he digs through Virgil’s closet. 

Virgil snrks, messing with his hair in the mirror. “That’s a weirdly specific number.”

Roman shrugs, tossing something onto the bed. “I feel it in my soul, that’s all I can say.”

“Sure, whatever princey. You plan on cleaning the mess you’re making?”

Roman lets out an offended gasp. “I am trying to help you here! Most of your clothes are black, ripped, or band-related! Some of them are all three! Why?!”

“It’s called aesthetic.”

“You are an emo nightmare.”

“Thanks, I try.”

Roman sighs, rolling his eyes as he tosses a pair of black skinnies onto the bed. “Here, change into this.”

A few minutes and a quick trip to the bathroom finds Virgil in a pair of black skinnies, his black vans with the purple laces, and a purple v-neck with small tears in it to make it look aged, layered over a black tee. He actually didn’t look that bad.

“I still think you need more colors in your wardrobe.”

“I’m not a pride parade.”

“And why not?”

“Oh, shut it.”

Roman softens, stopping Virgil from fussing with his hair. “You look great. Besides! Patton lives with you, he’s seen you when you’re a depressing slob.”

“Gee, thanks,” Virgil monotones, rolling his eyes. “The support and love I feel coming from you is so encouraging.”

“Now hurry up and get going before you’re late!” 

Roman pushes Virgil out of his room before he can point out that that’s nearly impossible since they live together. The door clicks shut behind him and Virgil huffs. What was Roman planning, squirreling himself away in Virgil’s room? Weirdo.

Paton’s door closing draws Virgil’s attention. He looks over just in time to catch Patton’s eye as the other leaves his own room, and the both of them freeze. 

Patton is wearing straight-lined grey pants, blue converse, and a sky blue button-down shirt. Virgil suddenly feels underdressed. He can’t dwell on that though, because he notices the blush Patton is sporting taking in what he looks like, and he’s sure he looks about the same. God, they’re just a couple of virginal teenagers. Despite, y’know, not being virgins. Or teens.

“You look good, Virge,” Patton says, clearing his throat and smiling. 

Virgil blinks, his blush darkening. “You- you too, Pat. You look… Yeah.” The giggle he gets in response has him turning absolutely red. “So… we should get going..?” It comes out as more of a question than a statement and Virgil internally facepalms. God, he was already such a disaster. Patton nods, taking Virgil’s hand and leading him out of the apartment. 

______________________________________________________________

Turns out four hours was all Patton needed to get a reservation at one of the nicer restaurants in town. Virgil’s eyes widen as they pull into the parking lot, and suddenly he feels even more underdressed than before. He bites his lip as Patton turns off the engine and unbuckles, grabbing his wrist to stop him from getting out. “Pat… I don’t think my clothes are right for this place.” Patton’s smile turns more sympathetic and he takes his wrist out of Virgil’s hold to instead take his hand, squeezing it gently. 

“It’ll be okay. You look great, Virge. And besides, if they kick us out we can find somewhere way less snobby.”

Virgil looks down at their hands and nods, butterflies in his stomach. Right. It wouldn’t be that bad, as long as he was with Patton. That’s what tonight was all about.

The two of them walk up to the door and Patton holds it open for Virgil, making him blush and rush past him in embarrassment. There was probably going to be a lot of that tonight, wasn’t there? They walk up to the podium and Patton tells the hostess his name, and within minutes they’re being led further inside to their table. Patton pulls out Virgil’s chair for him, and once again Virgil ducks his head, his cheeks pink. The hostess leaves, and the two of them pick up their menus.

“Hey, Pat?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you doing all this like… stuff? Like, opening the door, and pulling out my chair, and the… the fancy dinner?”

Patton smiles at him over their menus. “I wanna treat you like you deserve, Virge.”

Virgil’s heart does something funny when he hears that. “Oh. Okay.”

The rest of their dinner goes well. Conversation was a little awkward at first since it was a new situation, and they were still getting used to the motions, but once they’d gotten into the groove of things it wasn’t too different from their day-to-day at the apartment. It was just… more intimate. Which was good, it was the goal after all. They ordered dishes they could barely pronounce (and then laughed about the fact), chatted easily, ate plenty, and had plenty of fun. At the end of their meal, Patton paid for dinner without letting Virgil see the check (much to his chagrin) and then led him back to the car. 

“I have one more place I wanna go,” he says as he starts up the car. Virgil nods and sits back, watching the scenery pass by until they’re parking once again. He looks around, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“A park?”

“Yep! Come on!” Patton grins and gets out of the car, opening the trunk and pulling out a few blankets. Virgil follows after him as Patton walks into the soccer field, standing and watching awkwardly as he sets up the blankets. Then, he straightens up with a flourish. “Ta-da!”

“Are we… sleeping outside?”

“Stargazing!”

Virgil relaxes, smiling a little at Patton. “This is great, Pat.” 

Instead of responding verbally, Patton sits down and pulls Virgil down with him, laying back and wrapping a blanket around the two of them. They lay there in peaceful silence for a long, comfortable moment before Virgil speaks up. “Hey, Pat?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks, for all of this. It’s really… Great.” 

Patton takes his hand under the blanket. “I’m glad. I really like you.”

“I really like you too.”

A/N: in case you’re wondering, the time Roman says is the exact amount of time it’s been since I posted I’m Sorry (according to AO3, at least)

Taglist: @bunny222 @a-fander-named-skittles @eggy-boyo