#anyways have a song that has been exhausting my Spotify as of late | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rabbitechoes · 5 months ago

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wow, very slow news week right guys? oh well, at least it was a pretty eventful week for new music! i kid, i'm exhausted on both fronts. there were plenty of great tracks released this week and plenty of new projects announced that i'm incredibly excited about. here are my thoughts on some of the most noteworthy tracks that dropped this week!!!

to see last week's post, click here!!! also feel free to follow me on rate your music and twitter <3

"Le Risque" - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard

◇ released: July 9, 2024 ◇ featured on Flight b741 (not yet released) ◇ genres: boogie rock, glam rock

Eclectic and busy rockers King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard have returned with a new single that sees them diving back into their boogie shoes. It's fun and it has a silliness to it that makes it hard to hate. This groovy instrumentation paired with the misanthropic lyricism is pretty cool too. This song also features the band's drummer, Michael Cavenaugh, on vocal duties for the most part and he holds his own very well. Adds a bit of a different flavor to it. I'm still playing catch-up with this band - I still need to listen to their stuff from the last few years - but I'm looking forward to take a flight on Flight b741!!!

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"The Answers to the Questions" - Chrystabell & David Lynch

◇ released: July 9, 2024 ◇ featured on Cellophane Memories (not yet released) ◇ genres: dream pop, trip hop, ambient pop

Chrystabell & David Lynch have returned with a new single leading up to their collab album coming in a few weeks. "The Answers to the Question" has that same atmospheric quality as the previous track, but it's a lot less desolate sounding. There's a bit of a trip hop flavor to it that freshens things up a lot. Chrystabell's layered vocals are haunting, they're as chilling as they are beautiful. The subtle lulls in the instrumentation are pretty signature in both Lynch and the late Angelo Badalamenti's style and I'm glad it's present here. I'm curious to see how this album will sound on the whole. I'm a massive David Lynch fan so obviously I'm excited, but I'm also hoping the pair aren't afraid to implement new sounds throughout the record. I don't want this to be a complete retread of the musical tropes Lynch and crew have played around with for decades. I'll probably still enjoy it, but I'll be a little disappointed.

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"Fortnight (Acoustic Version)" - Taylor Swift feat. Post Malone

◇ released: July 9, 2024 ◇ genre: folk pop

The day after Billie Eilish overtook Taylor Swift as the 2nd most listened to artist on Spotify, God Queen Swift conveniently dumped one of the many exclusive alternate versions of a song from her most recent record onto streaming services everywhere. This has been a controversial marketing gimmick behind The Tortured Poets Department where Swift will release exclusive alternate editions of the album with an extra iPhone demo or acoustic version tacked on at the end. This has allowed her to game the charts ever since the album dropped. I'm not denying it's an incredibly successful record, it just feels scummy. Perhaps the most egregious example had to be when Charli xcx's album BRAT was geared to debut at number one in the UK, but before that could happen Swift released an exclusive version of her album for UK fans only. It all feels targeted. It's clear Swift and her team care about metrics and accolades, they'll do anything they can to get them even if it means obstructing the success of those around her.

Which, longwindedly, leads me back to this acoustic version of "Fortnight" which leaves me without much to say about the actual music. It's only here to boost her streaming numbers, because being 3rd most listened to artist in the world seemingly isn't enough! I wasn't a big fan of this song anyway and this acoustic version doesn't change that. It's hard not to be extremely cynical about this whole thing. This is music that feigns having a genuine heart, but it's really only a ploy for record-breaking chart success by any means necessary.

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"Key103" - Floating Points

◇ released: July 9, 2024 ◇ featured on Cascade (not yet released) ◇ genre: progressive house

Sam Shepherd, Floating Points, has announced a new album coming later this year as well as this new single "Key103." This week I finally got around to listening to his album Crush from 2019 and I loved it. That blend of IDM with real instrumentation is just a match made in heaven. These new songs, however, see him leaning more into the dance and house side of things to very great effect. This is an absolute jam. It's punchy as hell and has a groove that just gets you. That glitchy bridge that segues into the synth switch-up is exhilarating as hell. I'm beginning to notice that nearly everything Shepherd touches is impeccably crafted and this track is no different. I'm super excited for Cascade.

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"Gold Coast" - Moses Sumney

◇ released: July 9, 2024 ◇ featured on Sophcore (not yet released) ◇ genres: neo-soul, alternative r&b, alté

Moses Sumney is coming back with a new EP on the way in a few weeks and "Gold Coast" was released alongside that announcement. Sumney's work always has impeccable production and that's on display here as well. His vocals are heavenly, but I sometimes wish they had a bit more weight to them - luckily "Gold Coast" balances the heavy and light very well. He sounds fully in control here. I also love the little Latin guitar flourishes throughout, it really adds some nice depth to the track. Looking forward to see what else he has in store on this Sophcore EP.

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"She Rained Down" - This Is The Glasshouse

◇ released: July 9, 2024 ◇ genres: indie rock, noise rock

To commemorate the one-year anniversary of As Small As Ants, This Is The Glasshouse has released this stripped-back noisy version of his song "She Rained Down." That record was one of my favorites from last year and even though at times it wore its influences on its sleeve, there was enough heart and craft behind it to outweigh that. His songwriting was also a big highlight and that shines through on this track in particular no matter if it's the album version or this one. The demo is very different, but I kinda love it. It's noisy and at times it reminds me of a lo-fi version of a Strokes song. Really, really digging this one and I'm anticipating whatever comes next from him.

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"Forever Young (Live at Seattle Centre Coliseum, Seattle, WA - February 9, 1974 (Afternoon))" - Bob Dylan & The Band

◇ released: July 9, 2024 ◇ featured on The 1974 Live Recordings (not yet released) ◇ genres: folk rock, singer-songwriter

Bob Dylan is releasing a 27-disc box set containing "every single surviving soundboard recording" of his and The Band's prolific early 1974 tour. This was the same tour that made up the Before the Flood album, one of my personal favorite Dylan live albums. This rendition of "Forever Young" from the tail-end of the tour is fine. I love Dylan, but I can't say I'm so much a Dylan nut that this kind of box set appeals to me. For archival purposes it's pretty cool and it's always a treat to hear Dylan and The Band make magic together - I just don't see myself sifting through over 29 hours of material looking for hidden gems.

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"Patterns" - Laura Marling

◇ released: July 10, 2024 ◇ featured on Patterns in Repeat (not yet released) ◇ genres: singer-songwriter, contemporary folk

Laura Marling has returned with this gorgeous new track and a new album on the way. "Patterns" is a simple, clean, and very pretty folk cut that just surrounds you. She says she wrote a lot of this album while adjusting to becoming a new parent and you can absolutely hear it. There's this serene existentialism to it all, like a reflection on not just your own life but also the new life that you have brought into the world. This track is simply gorgeous. Marling stated that each of her albums have acted as "time-stamped chapter[s] of [her] life" and also that she's approaching this new album with an entirely new perspective. I really loved her last album, Song for Our Daughter, and after hearing this new single I can't wait for Patterns in Repeat.

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"Image" - Magdalena Bay

◇ released: July 10, 2024 ◇ featured on Imaginal Disk (not yet released) ◇ genres: synthpop, dance-pop, chillwave, nu-disco

I had a feeling we were on the cusp of a new Magdalena Bay album and here we are!!! Imaginal Disk drops next month, but we're getting our second taste of the album in the form of "Image," an expectedly incredible synthpop cut that shows a pop duo at the top of their game. This has everything you want in a synthpop song. Arresting production, addictive hooks, and a palpable rhythm. The two verses are opposite each other and it adds to the song - and seemingly the album's unique concepts. There's this anxious feeling underneath it all that only reveals itself on repeat listens. This is without a doubt one of my most anticipated albums of the year now. I came to the realization, and hopefully it doesn't age like milk, that Magdalena Bay are the best pop act of the decade thus far. Nothing has disproven that for me yet!

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"Call It Love" - Nilüfer Yanya

◇ released: July 10, 2024 ◇ featured on My Method Actor (not yet released) ◇ genres: indie folk, singer-songwriter

I somehow missed a whole single and album announcement last month from Nilüfer Yanya, but I'm here now for this new single! "Call It Love" has her scaling things back while not sacrificing a good groove. It's a song Yanya says is about being able to "fully trust your instincts" - you can hear it. There's a conviction to every word she delivers here. The instrumentation is light, bar the hazy synth riffs, but Yanya is a very commanding presence. Can't wait to listen to this album in full.

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"Snl" - Mustafa

◇ released: July 11, 2024 ◇ featured on Dunya (not yet released) ◇ genres: folk pop, singer-songwriter

I really enjoyed Mustafa's debut album When Smoke Rises from a few years ago, but ever since then he's regrettably flew under my radar ... not anymore though. He has a new album on the way along with this new sinlge "Snl" which is just incredible. One of the prettiest songs I've heard all month, the acoustic guitar and subtle percussion are just beautiful. His vocals and lyrics all feel so seamlessly confessional. Like catching up with an old friend. Absolutely loving this track and I need to listen to his other recent singles sooner rather than later.

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"Woman's World" - Katy Perry

◇ released: July 11, 2024 ◇ featured on 143 (not yet released) ◇ genres: dance-pop, electropop

Katy Perry is lost. She's had nowhere to go for the longest time so she's retreating back to the formula that people knew her most fondly. She freshens things up here and there, making a song that at least sounds like it could've been made in 2021 or so. She's never ahead of the curve, she's simply standing there. "Woman's World" has the flair of one of her early pop hits, but it feels so hollow. The ironic neoliberal feminist aesthetics seeping over the music video and the song's sentiment - all the while being written and produced predominantly by men, most notoriously her old collaborator and alleged sexual abuser Dr. Luke. An attempt at irony that turns into something even more sinister and gross. Certainly is a "Woman's World" to one Katy Perry isn't it? This is empty slop and I feel sorry for anyone dumb enough to eat it up uncritically.

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"American Fever" - JOBA

◇ released: July 12, 2024 ◇ featured on unnamed JOBA album (not yet released) ◇ genres: progressive pop, art rock, glam rock

2024 seems to be the year every former BROCKHAMPTON member starts pumping out their solo material. I can't say I've been crazy about all of their solo efforts as of late - despite me being a massive fan of the group when I was a teenager - but this new single from JOBA is a real treat. Totally unexpected sound, it feels almost like a glammed up Billy Joel piano rock track. He carries himself with so much swagger and confidence that really elevates "American Fever" to the next level. Both Kevin Abstract and Matt Champion have taken unexpected turns in their solo sound, but none match the sheer energy JOBA displays on this track. If this is a sign of where he goes from here, this upcoming project of his might be one you can't miss.

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"Pray For Me" - Mustard

◇ released: July 12, 2024 ◇ featured on Faith of a Mustard Seed (not yet released) ◇ genres: drumless, spoken word, gospel

Mustard has been thrown properly into the limelight recently following the use of his beat on Kendrick Lamar's proverbial dancing over Drake's grave track, "Not Like Us." He also was featured at Lamar's Pop-Out Concert on Juneteenth and made a big impression there as well. He's gearing up for his own solo album soon and this new single "Pray For Me" isn't what you would expect from him at all. A 10-minute drumless track that has him reflecting on how far he's come. Mustard hasn't been an "unknown" by any means, but this really feels like a turning point for his career and he seems to recognize that too.

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"Death Valley High" - Orville Peck & Beck

◇ released: July 12, 2024 ◇ featured on Stampede (not yet released) ◇ genres: alternative rock, country rock, rap rock

I was left disappointed by the first volume of Orville Peck's Stampede project and it's looking like I'm gonna be disappointed by the rest of it too. This new duet with Beck is a style clash in the worst way. It's like they're fighting for your attention, it's like mixing oil and water. It sounds like they're not trying to match each other's freak and instead trying to snuff each other's respective freaks out. This is a mess. I've been disappointed by Beck's new stuff for years now, but I don't want Peck to be dragged down by this any longer than he has to. Get Stampede over with ASAP.

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"Still What I'm Looking For" - Mac DeMarco & Ryan Paris

◇ released: July 12, 2024 ◇ genre: soft rock

When I was in high school, like a lot of weird indie kids, I became transfixed with Mac DeMarco. Having grown up a bit, I mostly look back at his stuff in a bit of a novel sense. His disappointing Here Comes the Cowboy album made me lose track of him a bit and his recent work hasn't wowed me that much at all when I have heard it. This new track, a collab with Ryan Paris, is a pleasant little number though. Sweet and to the point. It feels like DeMarco isn't too concerned with evolving his sound, he likes being a weird reclusive guy who pops up every now and then for a vibe. This doesn't make me excited for his new material, but hearing his guitar licks activated a very specific part of my brain that hasn't been activated in so long. I'm like a sleeper cell agent and my mission now is to re-listen to Salad Days and This Old Dog and become an insufferable indie guy once more.

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"고통없이 (Painless)" - Parannoul

◇ released: July 12, 2024 ◇ genres: shoegaze, noise pop

Korean shoegaze artist Parannoul has dropped yet another incredible single in the form of "Painless." "Gold River" from a few months ago was one of his strongest tracks to date and this song also deserves that distinction. He seems to be on the verge of something incredible. He's become an even more excellent songwriter, crafting melodies that stick out even under the waves of noise overtop it. His songs leap over any language barriers and just hit as close to home as possible. He's had an incredibly fruitful few years and he doesn't seem to be losing steam anytime soon. I adore this song and if there's a whole album full of songs like "Painless" and "Gold River," it could very well be his strongest album to date. Potentially one of the best of the decade so far, I'm serious. If you're not on the Parannoul train at this point, what are you waiting for?

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psssst. i made a discord server called COSMIACORD ... if u wanna join and have fun, talk about music, play fortnite, or whatever here's the invite :3 https://discord.gg/rsHMenTU

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kittencrewtkc · 2 months ago

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Ooc: sorry for being quiet lately. Work has been a nightmare and combined with school i don't have much energy. I do have to share what happened yesterday though because it was a little funny.

So i had a nightmare day at work. Obviously i can't tell much because of secrecy but let's just say i was boiling of anger when i left. So i walk to the busstop and there's a huge boar on the road in front of me. I managed to get past it. At the busstop there's another dude waiting that was high and we know he has anger issues and easily became violent so i was a bit scared. It was around 22:30 in the evening so we were alone. I was on the phone talking about my day and i was clearly mad. I get on the bus and when i get to the station there's issues with the trains because someone sabotaged things. I give up for the evening. Mentally and physically exhausted i turn on music to listen to a random playlist on spotify. I always use shuffle because there's so many songs and... this one comes on. It was such a good timing that i laughed.

Anyway welcome to a day of my life. I am dead and tomorrow i have to go back to work.

#ooc #Spotify

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kbrecycling-blog · 8 months ago

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Old Love Song

I used to listen to a song on my morning commute to work--my old morning commute to work from Evanston to Winnetka, not my current one-minute commute from Glencoe to Glencoe. If you know me, you know that I tend towards a repetitive (some might call it incessant) listening style. Not since Landslide junior year of college did I play and replay a song like this.

Today I was waiting for Bo to make the short run across the street from his baseball practice to the car. It was pouring and the minutes ticked by and I had run out of cold case podcasts and Ringer podcasts and Pod Save Americas so I switched to Spotify and tried to remember the names of songs I used to love. Sometimes my brain is capable of producing a name–a title, a former acquaintance, a piece of knowledge –but more and more frequently, it’s a fifty-fifty shot. This is just one way I feel the passage of time lately. Others include my growing ignorance of (and subsequent awkwardness attempting to use) current slang, and my stubborn reliance on mid-twenty aughts Shopbop trends as the fashion world passes me by. Anyway, I wanted to listen to that song, the one I listened to pretty much every morning on the way to work, Highway 20 Ride by Zac Brown Band.

Those commutes often included a stop at my fertility clinic for a blood draw or ultrasound, which I of course wrote about exhaustively (and exhaustingly) during that time of my life. That made the song a weird mantra choice as it’s about a father looking back on the bi-monthly drives he took visiting his son, who lived with his ex-wife. I was, of course, desperately trying to create a child–a family–with my very un-ex husband (and still going strong today thank you). The sadness and the loss of the lyrics resonated with me, as I tended to feel that sense of loss deeply myself even though nothing had really been lost, just not yet found. But I’ve always been like that; I’ve always aged myself and my experiences prematurely, mourning weeks, months, and years before they’ve passed, claiming the age I’ll turn on my next birthday before I turn it. I don’t know why. When I was young and more fun and could wear a string bikini top as a bra, it felt like a facet of my personality that was poetic and unexpected. Now that I’m closer to fifty than forty, it just feels like rushing.

The line that moved me most back then was “And my whole world, it begins and ends with you.” Oh how I wanted a baby that could begin and end my world back then. But today it hit different (see I told you it’s awkward). How can I be someone whose whole world begins and ends with my son? What does that mean when he’s about to be halfway to his thirteenth birthday, when sometime in the past year I realized that protecting him from the disappointment, hardness, and pain of the real world is no longer in his best interest, and actually (in my opinion) in the opposite of his best interest if we want him to become an independent and mindful adult one day? When one day soon he’ll be moving on to the next part of his life beyond this house? Then what?

Hearing that song today reminded me of the passage of time again. Words that meant one thing now mean something else; words of longing for the future now mean longing for the past. Or soon-to-be past. See? Rushing.

I recently had an experience that led me to consider how much I’ve changed since I became a wife and, eventually, a mother. Have I lost a lot of who I was? Have I gained enough to justify that? There was a time when I’d sleep on the floor of a rented tent at the Metroparks without a second thought, or spend the night lying on the rocks that stretched from the shore of Lake Michigan. Now I can’t fall asleep in a hotel bed without a Xanax because it creeps me out thinking of all the people who have used the pillow before me. That’s a superficial example, but you get the idea. If I ever had wanderlust–and that is debatable–I’ve misplaced it. My world has narrowed–happily, I have to say–but what happens when my narrowed walls house only me?

I deleted and re-typed that last line a few times. It’s not how I want to sound, but it’s what I feel. Getting older, for me, means losing the shiny (if I do say so myself) package that contained my complicated, sometimes even dark, interior. I have always worried about my balance; when I was younger, I was sunnier on the outside.

When I wrote about my experiences with infertility fifteen years ago, I almost always had an ending–not always upbeat, but something I could take from what I’d written to move forward with. When I write now, I’m somehow less sure of what I want. Like my instant recall, sometimes it’s quick and clear, and other times I can’t quite grasp what it is that’s missing. Maybe my nostalgia when I listened to Zac Brown today was less for the song itself and more for who I was when I used to listen to it. For what was going through my mind back then, for the clear and powerful certainty of what I wanted.

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dameronology · 4 years ago

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love in the time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno} - 2/5

summary: your kid has taken a liking to marcus moreno - and frankly, so have you {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce & very brief mentions of his wife’s death

i don’t normally update series this quickly but this was originally one imagine that reached about 11k words lmao so it’s all written, just being split up. i’ve also decided it’s gonna be 5 parts instead of 3, cos i reread the ending and realised i was not done by a longshot. enjoy!

- jazz

Mondays. You hated ‘em.

Everything just seemed so...amplified. The peace and relaxation of the weekend was over and everyone had to go back on the grind. The traffic always seemed worst, the clock seemed to tick backwards and you just wanted to be at home, in bed. After an incident involving the dog, a toaster and a small pan fire, you were already running twenty minutes late and you knew in your soul that your child’s shoes weren’t on the right feet. That, and also he was wearing a Chewbacca onesie to school. It had been a compromise. As in, he was refusing to go to school unless you let him wear the damn thing. It was a compromise. You’d lost.

On the bright side, the past weekend had been the best you’d had in a long time. Jack had spent all of Saturday afternoon at the Heroics headquarters and he was so worn out, he’d slept through all of Sunday. Marcus Moreno must have a been a fucking wizard, because you’d been trying to tire the kid out for five years. You made a mental note to do something in return, though you sensed there was nothing on God’s green earth that could possibly amount to babysitting the world’s most exhausting child for six hours. You were allowed to say that, because Jack was your world’s most exhausting child and you wouldn’t have changed him for anything.

‘New week, huh buddy?’ You glanced at Jack in your rear view mirror. He was sat on his booster seat, legs dangling back and forth and a power ranger action figure in his hand. ‘A fresh start.’

‘Can we listen to the song from Cars?’ Jack ignored your comment.

‘You gotta try and behave yourself this week. You’ve seen what happens to people who do follow the rules, right? They get to go work at the Heroics-’

‘- I wanna listen to the song from Cars!’

You wanted to have a deep conversation. Jack wanted to listen to Life Is A Highway. That was...actually, it was exactly how you’d expected that to go. It wasn’t that off of the time you were trying to explain your divorce to him and he’d interrupted you to demand that you put Toy Story on.

‘Sure thing, kid.’ You rolled your eyes, reaching across to hand him on your phone. ‘D’you know how to spell it-’

Your sentence was cut off by the sound of guitars blaring from the speakers. At least he could work out Spotify.

By some miracle, you managed to make it the school with a few minutes to spare. Because most people had dropped their kids off earlier (see: on time), the lot was pretty empty. That meant you could once again dump your car without regard for the painted white lines -- who had time to park properly on a Monday morning? That was for people who had their shit together.

Leaping out the car, you almost cursed when you tripped over your heels. You didn’t have to wear them, but since you’d started working in a managerial role at your office, you figured it made you look a little more professional. And what was the harm in being a few inches taller? It made you feel powerful.

‘C’mon, J.’ You pulled open the back door, helping Jack leap out the car.

‘You know, I’m starting to think you can’t park your car at all.’

‘Marcus!’ Jack practically flew out the car, his tiny body suddenly jolting with excitement.

‘Morning, buddy.’ He replied; he then moved his brown eyes to gaze at you, offering a smile. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, how you doing?’ You greeted him. ‘I don’t normally see you here in the mornings.’

‘Yeah, I normally drop Missy off at the front but it was one of those mornings, you know? She was taking a little more convincing than usual to go in.’

‘My kid is in a Wookiee onesie and backwards Thomas the Tank Engine shoes and you have the audacity to ask me if I know those mornings? I am those mornings.’ You replied.

Marcus chuckled. ‘I think it’s a look. I especially like the Lightning McQueen sunglasses.’

‘Do you have a super suit?’ Jack asked. ‘Can I try it on?’

‘C’mon, Jack. You’ve already managed to get a tour of the HQ.’ You ruffled his hair. ‘And we gotta get going to school.’

‘But I wanna ask more questions.’ He muttered. ‘I have over a hundred.’

‘Don’t I know it.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But school is more important.’

‘I don’t wanna go anymore.’

‘I let you wear the onesie. That was our agreement, remember?’

‘All good superheroes have to get an education.’ Marcus reasoned. ‘And if you go in, maybe I can show you my suit at some point?’

'Okay!’ Jack grinned. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a quick hug, before peering up at you with a toothy smile. ‘See ya later!’

He turned on his heel and ripped his backpack from your hand, suddenly speeding up the path and towards school. Had...had that just happened? For once in your life, had you not had to wrench him from the car and wrestle him through the school gates? Move aside, Harry Potter, because Marcus Moreno was the new wizard in town. You might have been a little jealous that he was so good with your son but at the same time, it made you like him even more. He was the first parent at the school that had leant into Jack’s wild tendencies. And, whilst you tried not to think too much about it, even his own dad had struggled to do that. It made your heart warm a little.

‘You are seriously my favourite person.’ You chimed, leaning back against your car.

‘Kids with character are way more fun than kids who are well-behaved.’ Marcus replied.

‘I spent forty-five minutes scraping string cheese out the USB port of my computer yesterday, but sure.’

He chuckled. ‘No, I’m serious. I don’t encourage Missy to misbehave but she does get herself into some situations. I choose to see it as a testament to her intelligence rather than disobedience.’

‘I refuse to believe for a second that Missy ever misbehaves.’ You shot back back. ‘She seems so well-behaved.’

‘What you see in the parking lot is not a reflection of our whole lives.’ He reminded you.

‘Right, because despite appearances, I’m actually a very put together parent.’ You snorted. ‘But I get what you mean.’

‘I gotta get to work now, but it was good to see you.’ Marcus pulled his car keys out his pocket. ‘I was serious about that suit thing, by the way. He saw my katanas on Saturday.’

‘Katanas?’ You spluttered. ‘My kid managed to start a fire last week out of nothing and you want to give him katanas?!’

‘Maybe I can show you how to use them.’ He flashed you a smile. ‘And then you can pass on the knowledge.’

‘That’s probably an even worse idea.’ You shook your head with a laugh, pulling open your car door. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘You as well. Have a good day, pretty lady.’

Did you stop thinking about your exchange at any point during the day? Absolutely not. In fact, you’d already written an email to the local deed poll office to change your legal name to Pretty Lady.

No, but in all seriousness, you’d been a little giddy about it. Had he been flirting? That didn’t seem like a long shot. You got on well, you’d hung out a bit over the weekend and not to toot your own horn, but you were by no means bad looking. Tired and a little frazzled, sometimes? Yeah. But anyone would have been lucky to have you and you were doing a better job at recognising that, especially since your divorce.

You were almost ecstatic when it got to 4PM and you hadn’t received a single call from Jack’s teachers. That meant that he had behaved, and what Marcus had said had worked. Because you worked past his finishing time, he usually went to the after-school club till you could come to collect him - it had been a lifesaver, especially since you couldn’t always leave early. He usually came home with some kind of weird arts and crafts. Last week, it had been an unidentifiable item made of dried macaroni and glitter. He’d placed it pridefully on the old fireplace in your lounge.

After saying goodbye to your co-workers, you headed out the building. Your office was right in the city centre and not too far out from the school. It was a nice place to be; your lunch hour, when you could head out to a street cart and eat your food in the local park, was usually the highlight of your day. It was when you could exist just as you. When you were at work, you were in charge on your entire department. When you were home, you were a parent 24/7. That time to yourself was vital.

As you were heading to your car, your phone began to ring. Your heart almost jumped out your chest when you saw Marcus’ name - he hadn’t called you before, only texted to sort out the previous weekend’s plans with Jack. You quickly organised yourself (he couldn’t see you, dumb ass) and cleared your throat.

‘Hey, everything alright?’ You brightly greeted him.

‘Hey! Are you out of work now?’

‘Yeah, I’m literally just leaving. What’s up?’

‘Look, I hate to do this but I’ve had an emergency at work - superhero related, you don’t wanna know - and I’m not gonna be out for hours.’ Marcus sounded stressed. Yeah, I feel that you thought. ‘Would you be able to pick up Missy and possibly have her for a few hours? If not, that’s totally-’

‘- I’d be glad too!’ You interrupted him. ‘I owe you one anyways for the weekend. And this morning, actually.’

‘You don’t owe me anything.’ He sounded surprised that you’d even imply it. ‘But I will definitely owe you for having Missy.’

‘Hey, it’s cool!’ You insisted. ‘Do you want me to drop her off at yours later?’

‘I can come and collect her if you text me your address?’

‘Perfect.’ You smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then?’

‘You’re a lifesaver.’ Marcus said. ‘I’ll text Missy to let her know to find your car instead of mine. I would ask for your plate number, but your car is...’

‘...bright red, covered in dents and hard to miss?’ You finished his sentence.

‘Exactly.’

You’d been in the same situation before; pulled between work and parenting, with Jack stuck at school and an important meeting that felt like it was never ending. It was hard to get a sitter on such short notice - or afford one, sometimes - and it was just another one of the million, stressful situations that single parenting could get you into. If you could help Marcus even a little bit, of course you were going to. You knew he’d do the same for you. Heck, he had done the same for you.

Jack and Missy were both chatty on the way home. Given that she was a little older than him, her conversational skills were strikingly better. It was nice to ask someone about their day and not get where are my Cheetos? as an answer. From what you gathered, she hated science class, enjoyed gym, and her favourite subject was lunch. That didn’t come as a surprise to you - her dad was a literal superhero and probably encouraged physical activity.

(You’d seen his arms, okay? They were more than enough to go on. I digress).

The only thing that made you wish you’d had a little more notice on having her for the evening was the state of your apartment. The place wasn’t bad; you’d lived there for the better part of eight years, and it was crammed with soft furniture and millions of blankets, as well as photos of you and Jack and his questionable art projects. It was just that you hadn’t done the dishes that morning, there was a mountain of shoes by the door and the pancakes from the previous night were still stuck on the roof.

Missy barely blinked an eye; the minute she saw your dog, she’d abandoned her bag and was playing with him.

‘Hey buddy!’ She grinned. ‘What’s he called?’

‘That’s Oppy.’ You replied, hanging your jacket up. She didn’t need to know that it was short for Optimus Prime. No guesses on whose idea that had been.

‘He’s so cute!’ Missy continued. ‘I��ve been asking dad for a dog for ages but he won’t budge.’

For some reason, that surprised you a little. Marcus might have been the leader of a super-hero team and a public figure, but you could tell he would do anything for his daughter. You knew because it was the same for you with Jack. He might have ruled your whole life but you would have hung the damn stars in the sky for him if he asked

‘They’re a lot of work.’ You reasoned. ‘I have to wake up every morning at 6AM to make sure he gets a walk. Then there’s the matter of-’

‘- mum! Optimus Prime pooped in the bathroom!’

‘The matter of that.’ You murmured under your breath.

The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. You fed the kids some leftover takeaway and between the dog and Netflix, they were easily entertained. Jack seemed to take a liking to Missy, which was good because it meant he wanted to sit with her the entire time instead of bouncing off the walls. She had the same patience as her dad, especially when he asked her a million questions about superheroes. It took her twenty minutes to convince him that Batman wasn’t her uncle, and a further fifteen to make him believe that she hadn’t met Captain America.

Jack had asked you a few times about whether or not he would get siblings. Of course, it would be different to any interactions with Missy because he would have been the oldest, but it did get you thinking. You were finally in a place where you were moving past your former relationship and healing from the wounds. Time wasn’t much of an issue either - you’d had Jack when you were young and barely out of college. You couldn’t possibly imagine having any more kids right now, not when it was just the two of you, but in the future? You’d never rule out meeting somebody new. If anything, you were hopeful. Your first relationship had been your only one, and it had ended badly. You wanted to experience love for what it actually was, and not what you thought it was supposed to be.

Not long after 7PM, there was a knock on your door. By that point, both Missy and Jack had passed out on the sofa with Star Wars playing quietly in the background. It had been her idea to watch it - she had good taste. Marcus had clearly done a good job.

‘Hey!’ You greeted him as you pulled open the front door. ‘Come in quick, it’s fucking freezing out there.’

‘Thank you.’ Marcus came inside, dusting a few snow flakes out his hair. ‘Seriously, I can’t say it enough-’

‘- it’s fine!’ You shook your head, offering him a smile. ‘Missy’s been great. She’s really chatty and it was nice to have a coherent conversation with someone that isn’t about Paw Patrol. But was everything at the office okay?’

He was quiet for a minute. ‘Yeah. We uh, we lost someone. A hero.’

‘Shit, man. I’m sorry.’ Your voice fell quiet. ‘You wanna come in? You look like you could probably take a moment.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course! Missy and Jack are both asleep on the couch anyways.’ You pointed through to the living room. Marcus leant over to have a look, smiling slightly at the sight.

‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’

He took a seat at the kitchen counter. Your old bar stools were a little old and wobbly, but Marcus didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he admired the place. It was cluttered as hell and filled with useless, old items - cook books you didn’t use, random magnets, assorted toys - but it was nice. His house always felt a little cold and clinical. He’d moved a lot over the course of Missy’s life and now that he was retired from the field, he’d sworn to her that their current house was going to be permanent. Whether or not it felt like home was another question entirely.

‘I would offer you a drink but all I have is..’ you paused, opening the fridge. ‘Nesquik, vodka or apple juice.’

‘You know what? A Nesquik doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘I like your thinking, Moreno.’

After quickly fixing up the two drinks, you slid into the seat beside him and handed him one. You had never in a million years imagined a situation where Marcus Moreno would be in your kitchen drinking chocolate milk, but here we were. It had clearly been a long day for him and you had enough of those to last a lifetime, so you knew how it felt. Coming home after a day that had beat your ass into the ground and having to put on a brave face for your kids was difficult at best.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ You gently asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll be okay - it just always fucks me up a bit.’ Marcus murmured quietly. ‘Hits a little too close to home.’

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you knew what had happened to his wife. You knew why he’d retired, and why he and Missy had moved away from their original city six years ago.

‘Sorry, that was too deep-’

‘- it wasn’t!’ You quickly cut him off. ‘I’ve had random women come up to me at pick up time and say they’re sorry to hear about my divorce. People I don’t even know. So really, after that, nothing is too much.’

He smiled slightly. ‘They always say they’re sorry but why would you bring up a subject if you have to apologise for it?’

‘Exactly!’ You replied. ‘Especially when I’ve moved on. It’s been a year.’

‘It’s the same with me. Missy and I miss her everyday but we don’t mope about it. We just...we look back with fondness on the good memories we have. You can’t move forward if you’re stuck in the past, no matter how much it sucks.’

‘That’s...that’s wise.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘S’pose that means I should take down the dartboard I have with my ex’s face on.’

‘From what I’ve heard, he seems like he should have more than a dart board.’ Marcus snorted - then he froze. ‘Wait, not that I’ve heard stuff, I mean...I don’t listen-’

‘- Marcus!’ You whacked his arm. ‘It’s fine. One of the other kid’s mums started telling me about the terrible divorce someone was going through but she realised she was gossiping to the one who was going through it.’

‘I don’t know how much of what I’ve been told is true, but it sounds like it was bad.’ His hand hovered over where yours was rested on the counter.

‘The rumours pretty much get the gist of it.’ You replied. ‘But we were talking about your thing, so I don’t wanna take away from that.’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ He finally moved his hand, fingers gently curling underneath yours to intertwine them. ‘If even half of the whispers are true, he sounds like an asshole. You and Jack both deserve better than that.’

Whatever people had said, it had sort of covered the gist of it. You’d married too young and had a kid too young - your ex had been a terrible husband and an even worst husband. He’d chastised Jack for being...well, being Jack. He’d stay out late with his friends, spend money on things neither of you needed and tried to make you take the blame for it all. After giving him a few too many chances, you’d finally reached breaking point and kicked him out. Filing for divorce and taking on being a single parent was single-handedly the hardest and bravest thing you’d ever had to do. In a way, you were glad you’d done it when Jack was still so young - he didn’t really understand any of it, even when you’d try to explain it in child friendly terms.

‘I think people judge me for it a little sometimes.’ You confessed. ‘They see me struggling but they know I made the choice to separate from him, like I brought it all on myself.’

‘That’s bullshit.’ Marcus plainly stated. ‘Parenthood isn’t a dependent thing based on whether or not you’re still married to the other parent. It’s unconditional and permanent.’

‘I should tell him that, but I also don’t want him back in our lives.’

‘I know it’s none of my business, but he doesn’t deserve Jack. He’s one of the best and brightest kids I’ve ever met.’

‘Thank you. I’m glad he doesn’t seem like a complete lunatic.’

‘He doesn’t deserve you either.’ Marcus continued. ‘Again, I might be out of place saying this but you are...you’re amazing. I was a wreck when I was suddenly on my own and you’re still holding everything together and working your ass off.’

‘You’ve noticed?’ You quirked an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, in passing.’ He admitted. ‘I remember I once saw you carrying three separate science projects at once and then Carol made a passing comment that you were on your own and...I just kinda admired you from afar.’

‘You, Marcus Moreno, admired me?’ You blinked at him in disbelief. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘I wish I’d had my shit together half as much as you did when I lost Missy’s mum.’

‘But the difference is you didn’t have a choice in your situation. I chose to boot his dad out-’

‘- you gotta stop discrediting yourself.’ He shook his head. ‘And stop blaming yourself. You did what was right for your kid and that is the most admirable thing of all.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know so.’

The conversation slowly drizzled away, leaving you two to just look at each other. It was hard to tear yourself away from his brown eyes - there was a lot going on behind them. Fear, pain, anguish, admiration. He was one of the most mind-blowingly impressive people you’d ever met; single dad, superhero, electric car owner. He probably didn’t have a mortgage too and that was kinda hot. You were none of those things and yet, here he was, with you, managing to connect on a level that you never had with anyone. Both of your situations were tough, but they’d brought you together.

Marcus Moreno was pretty fucking fearless (came with the job, you figured), and he wasn’t afraid to make the first move. He slowly inched his head forward and in return, you gravitated towards him. Your lips met halfway in a soft kiss, his hands moving to firmly hold your waist as he pulled you closer.

You almost stumbled out your chair with the movement, but his grip on your hips meant you didn’t slip. Instead, he placed you up on the counter, standing up as he did. It took you a moment to adjust to the position, but with your legs resting on either side of his, you could reach forward and lean on him. You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on the back of his neck - you’d surprised yourself with that. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, but you weren’t as rusty as you thought.

‘Oh my god, is the superhero gonna be my new dad?!’

Marcus suddenly jumped backwards at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was stood in the doorway, post-nap hair covered by a lopsided Chewbacca hood. His eyes were like dinner plates, even though he was grinning from ear to ear.

‘Uh...’ you glanced between him and Marcus. ‘We were just...we were...’

‘I had something in my eye.’

‘He had something in his eye.’ You quickly agreed. ‘But now it’s out, so Marcus is gonna go home.’

He knew you didn’t mean it rudely - it was more of a desperation thing. The longer he stayed, the more questions Jack would come out with. Missy could have overheard too and that would have been twice as much to explain. So really, the sooner he got out, the better.

‘Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll grab Missy.’ Marcus said, scratching the back of his head. ‘Thank you again for looking after her.’

‘You don’t need to keep thanking me.’ You shot back.

He disappeared into the living room for a moment, reemerging with a sleeping Missy in his arms a moment later. Your eyes met again, and he gave you a soft smile.

‘I’ll call you.’

‘Yeah, sure.’ You nodded. ‘See you, Marcus.’

True to character, the next hour was spent being pelted with questions from your over-curious son. He didn’t shut up once when you were bathing him and he got even louder when you were reading him his best time story. On the bright side, you’d managed to get him to change out of his slightly manky Wookiee onesie and into a clean Buzz Lightyear one. Normally, you would have argued that he couldn’t live in pyjamas, but if it kept him quiet? It was a price you were willing to pay.

‘Night, kiddo.’ You pressed a kiss to his forehead, switching on his nightlight. ‘Remember our deal, yeah? If I buy you a Happy Meal tomorrow, you won’t mention what you saw to any of your friends?’

‘You said library was bad.’

‘No, it’s bribery.’ You corrected him. ‘And do as I say, not as I do.’

‘Sounds bad, but okay.’ He sleepily murmured. ‘Night.’

‘Night.’ You stood up, flicking out his bedroom lights.

‘Wait, mum!’ Jack suddenly sat up, as though he’d remembered something. ‘You never said no.’

‘No to what, buddy?’

‘When I asked if the superhero was my new dad.’

Well, fuck.

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles @bitchin-beskar @comphersjost {message me to be added!}

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons #pedro pascal characters x reader

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lgcyushin · 2 years ago

Photo

what are the top 5 most used apps on your phone?

“spotify, melon, youtube, all for catching up with the newest music features honestly. i like to see what other artists are coming up with. i do also watch cooking youtubers too. i’m always trying to figure out new easy recipes but honestly, it’s hard finding time nowadays, so i usually use all the other delivery apps too. i don’t have a specific delivery food app, more like a variety of 4 or 5. i know it’s obnoxious but we’ve got to do what we’ve go to do to survive when we’re on the go. that and... messaging, i guess. i prefer messaging over calls. but again, i’ll do what is required of me for the job.”

what is the most random note in the notes app?

“it’s not that random. i don’t use the notes app all that often, so you have my perfect recipe at coffee shops that i like to order. there’s two but the weirder one is... eight scoops of matcha, vanilla syrup, latte but no foam, no water, oat milk, the largest size they’ve got. but honestly, i don’t use the notes app so it’s not as interesting as what others might have to say...” he’s actually quite surprised, there’s only a total of 4 notes. “the rest of them are all ‘what i need to buy from the store’ so i don’t forget. i hate making multiple trips.”

what was the last message or call you’ve received and who was is from?

“my last call and text is from... my little brother. and it’s both a call and text because apparently i completely overslept one day, and had to rush off to where we were supposed to meet at. i usually wake up early, but lately i’ve been so exhausted. i think i might be coming down with a cold, because i have no problems waking up to my alarm. anyways, i didn’t mean to stand him up, it’s an honest mistake. we just rescheduled to meet later in the afternoon. it’s been a crazy busy season anyway with all the concerts. i should get a little slack for that.”

what were the last 5 songs that you’ve listened to?

“i’m in my big, ‘oldies but goodies’ era. not even that old, but the last decade. songs like... ‘g-dragon - butterfly’, ‘big bang - we belong together’, ‘blazing - abracadabra’, and then i jumped into the recent release from fabula. their music has a different concept this comeback, and it was unexpected but pleasant. i know you guys think that we may get spoilers because the idols are close, but i’ll be honest, i got zero spoilers and was pleasantly surprised. so far i’ve only heard ‘illusion’ and their title, ‘how you like that?’ which had a nice beat.”

what were the 5 most recent online searches?

“hahaha, don’t kill me, but my most recent search is ‘hanbyul shin dating’, for obvious reasons. i’m sure you looked it up too, don’t lie.” he opens up his searches. “i also looked up ‘most comfortable dance shoes’, because i’m looking for a new pair. i feel like my last pair has worn out through all the practice for the concerts. ‘cheap bluetooth speaker’. i want one i can bring around the entire dorm, to the practice rooms, and to the bathroom and kitchen. everywhere. i live on music. and lastly, ‘musicals near me’. i was hoping to catch newsies before they stop running, but if not, another musical too. it’s a near and dear to my heart excursion that i miss participating in, but that doesn’t mean i can’t support musicals.”

**BONUS** FOR IDOLS : what are your contact names for all of the group members?

haru - maknae jiho - leader

it might be a bit impersonal but i feel like yushin always jokes around and calls haru the baby, and jiho their leader more than even by name, but yushin rarely puts people in his phone by name...

#lgc:update004 #►► ready player one

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concubuck · 2 years ago

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People I’d Like to Know Better!

(Doing this three weeks late but lmao whatever)

Alias / Name: Puff or ckret2

Birthday: :U

Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius

Height: :U five and a halfish

Hobbies: writing, RP, video games, leatherwork, artsy craftsy thingses,

Favorite Color: silver or purple or mint green

Favorite Book: who’s the sadist who wants it narrowed down to one. Long-time favorites include Grendel, To the Lighthouse, Good Omens, Wild Seed, Hitchhiker’s Guide, and I guess I’ll extend an honorary award to the Cthulhu Mythos even though my opinion on Lovecraft himself has dropped and these days my preferences run toward “people who deconstruct/subvert his writings.”

Last Song: “Divenire - Reimagined by Mercan Dede & Kora”—it just popped up in Spotify’s release radar so I can’t tell you yet whether or not it’s good. I think I like the original Divenire better.

Last Movie / Show: Currently working my way through The Vampire Dies in No Time. I think last movie was Ouija: Origin of Evil.

Recent Read: Rereading Dracula alongside half of tumblr. Also recently reread Huckleberry Finn to see what else I think about it now that I know more about the time period it was written in. Next book might be War of the Worlds or the second Sherlock Holmes Vs Cthulhu.

Inspiration: Me getting real tired of “asexual character develops a libido” narratives that AREN’T presented like a horror story, because I’m pretty sure that desiring to fuck would be exhausting. 2/3 of my writing comes from having a very petty literary pet peeve and going “how could I write the exact same scenario but in a way that I actually like.”

Story behind your URL: Alastor is a succubus and a buck. “Succubuck” was taken. I didn’t want “incubuck” because it implied a character too cis for what I planned on playing; and anyway on top of that I follow with the fact that canon’s been using succubus like a gender-neutral term and I knew if I called him an “incubus” that was the only thing anybody else would ever call him forever. Of the newer gender-neutral terms for succubus/incubus currently available, “concubus” had the best easily-available search results for anyone who sees me use the word, doesn’t know what it means, and googles it. (I try to make a habit of not using obscure terms unless they’re easily googleable.) Every day I’m disappointed I couldn’t use “succubuck.”

Fun Fact: I do a lil Sims 4 modding! Maybe someday I’ll post it where people can download it instead of just keeping it on my computer.

Tagged by: @smiledotdeer!

Tagging: lmao i’m not good at tagging people and also this meme already went by three weeks ago

#ooc #meme #smiledotdeer

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milstrim · 4 years ago

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Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 5: Ironic

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

"Woah."

"I know, right," Peter said, unzipping the inside of the suit and moving to plug it into Ned's computer. His friend continued to gape at it, fingers trailing over the fabric reverently.

"I can't believe Iron Man made this," he whispered. "I get to sit here. And touch a superhero suit. That Tony Stark made. For my best friend. This is the greatest day of my life."

"You've said that a lot recently," Peter pointed out, pulling up the schematics of the suit on Ned's computer, who turned to look at him in confusion.

"What are you doing? Are you supposed to be messing with it?"

"I'm not messing with it. I'm just going through Karen's code real quickly."

"Karen?"

"The AI," he explained. "I just want to make sure she's not gonna snitch on me."

"Snitch on you for what?"

"Uhhh, so you know those alien weapons I've been talking about?"

Ned nodded. "Yeah?"

"I'm gonna take that down, and I don't really need Karen telling Mr. Stark," he mumbled the last part nervously. Ned stared at him.

"Why don't we want Karen telling Mr. Stark again? I mean, he gave you the suit, he must think you're capable."

Peter paused, puffing up his cheeks as he took in an awkward breath, staring at the protocols showing up on the computer. He'd already spotted three to tell Mr. Stark if he was in trouble, so he knew it was the opposite of Ned's assumption.

"Actuallyyyy..." He took a deep breath. "You can't tell anyone this." Ned nodded, but he continued to press. "I mean it. Nobody. Not a soul."

"I won't, I won't! I promise, Peter. Not. A. Soul."

"Mr. Stark's my soulmate."

Ned's head whipped around to stare at Peter's shadow, his mouth falling open.

"Oh, my God... Oh, my God! He's your soulmate!!?" Peter nodded, preparing himself for Ned's excited ramblings, but he couldn't really hide the smile on tugging at his lips either, however faint it was. "This is insane! Your life is so fucking insane I think I'm going to lose it!! Have you talked to him? Wait--yeah you have! How many times have you talked to him? Have you done, I don't know, 'soulmate things?'"

"Ned, what?"

Ned threw his hands up. "I don't know, I haven't met my soulmate. I'm trying my best, Peter!"

Peter laughed, shrugging.

"I don't really know what 'soulmate things' are, but we had dinner, and he showed me some stuff in his lab."

"Oh, my God...you've been in his lab. You know you have to show me one day."

"Definitely. I'll figure it out later, just, let us get more used to each other? Maybe? Let me impress him at least, which is why I'm trying to keep Karen from snitching on me."

"Sure. Here," Ned agreed, sitting beside him on the bed and gesturing for the computer. Peter passed it over to him wordlessly. "I'll work on the protocols, you do detective work or something."

"Thanks, dude."

"By the way, and answer honestly, is that Tony Stark's hoodie?"

Peter glanced down at the red hoodie that Mr. Stark had given him, 'MIT' emblazoned on the sleeves while the faded logo sat on the front of the piece of clothing. He smiled at Ned. "Yep."

"This is so cool," his friend melted.

With an amused eyeroll, Peter pulled out his phone, clearing his throat and nervously calling, "Karen?"

The phone lit up. "Yes, Peter?"

"Listen, ah, I was wondering if you could help me. I'm trying to figure out who these guys under the bridge were a few nights ago, but I mean, I can only kind of remember part of a license plate."

"Can you tell me where you were?" Peter rattled off Liz's neighborhood. Karen was silent for a little bit before piping up again. "Was there a white van involved?"

Peter perked up. "Yes! Exactly!"

A hologram popped up from Peter's phone. Ned stopped to stare at it as they both let out an identical, "Whoa..."

Peter watched intently from the security camera as the van rolled up under the bridge to where the buyer had been waiting. Karen highlighted the faces for him.

"Okay. The two on the right, who are they?" he asked.

"Searching law enforcement databases," Karen said, pausing before answering. "No records found for two of the individuals."

"Nothing?"

"One individual identified." The recording was replaced by a mugshot. "Aaron Davis, age thirty-three. He has a criminal record and an address here in Queens."

Peter and Ned glanced at each other. Ned said, "The protocols are disabled."

"Let's pay him a visit."

---

"So, what's this surprise you've been talking about?"

Tony's head shot up at the sound of his girlfriend's voice. He smiled, turning from where he'd been forcing some kitchen tools into a box to take in the woman as she stepped off of the elevator. She very much looked like she'd just come out of a meeting in sharp business slacks and an exhausted expression.

"Hey, Pep. How was...London?"

"Tokyo," she corrected, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "It was tiring. How's the packing?"

"Eh, boring," he said, kicking the box lightly and shoving his hands in his pockets. "So, anyway, I think that we should reconsider moving to the compound permanently."

"Tony, we just finished all the paperwork for the tower! And most floors have been packed by now, we can't just--"

"Not the tower. Just for us. Ever thought about a nice high-rise in Queens?"

Pepper stared at him, crossing her arms. "Queens? Since when have you ever cared about Queens?"

"Well, that's the surprise."

"The surprise is that you want to move to Queens?"

"No," Tony corrected, unable to stop his bright grin. "The surprise is that my soulmate lives in Queens."

It took a couple of seconds for that to register to Pepper. When it did, her eyebrows raised and she let out a smiled gasp. "You found him?"

Tony nodded. "Yep, just swinging around New York like a maniac."

"Swinging?"

"He's Spider-Man. Well, 'man's' a strong word. Here." He waved his hand, pulling up a screen that displayed Peter's yearbook photo. Pepper cooed at him. "Peter Parker. Top of his class at Midtown High by day, overly excited vigilante by night."

"He doesn't look like he could hurt a fly, never mind stop robberies. How'd he get his powers?"

"Forgot to ask, actually. He wasn't super excited to meet me at first, actually."

Pepper snorted. "Good. I'm glad he doesn't feed your ego."

"Hey! This is serious," he pouted.

"Uhuh." Pepper gave him another kiss on the cheek. "How'd you meet him?"

"Mugging. I bought him a hot chocolate."

"Hmm. I expected something stranger given your track record."

"He ran away."

"There it is," she said. "It's all good now, though?"

"Yeah..."

"Tony?"

He hesitated. "Peter lives at a group home, and I gotta say, not super fond of his foster father."

"Is he... Does he hurt Peter?" Pepper asked. He shrugged.

"Possibly. I gave Peter some money and the guy took it. Spent hundreds of dollars on liquor. And the kid's really thin. Jumpy, too. But there's nothing to prove right now."

"I'm surprised I didn't have our lawyer calling me to say you broke into a foster home and kidnapped a kid."

Tony shrugged, giving her a soft smile. "I don't need to break down the door to say hi to Peter. Besides, kid's wary, gets nervous easily. I don't want to scare him off by being too invasive about his home."

"Good on you for learning some boundaries, Tony," she congratulated before turning just a little more serious as she glanced at Peter's picture again. "You're sure he's alright?"

"No. But he's got a new superhero suit, a phone with me, Friday, and his own AI on speed dial, an unlimited credit card, and a badge to get into the tower. He's got resources if he needs them."

"Then let's just hope he doesn't need them."

---

Peter waited until the next day to find and interrogate Aaron Davis, more at Ned's insistence that they study for their Spanish quiz and to let his friend geek out over the suit than anything else. He'd stayed at his friend's house for as long as humanly possible, readily accepting whatever snack that Ned had pushed his way and going over notes that Karen gave him about Davis. It wasn't until the alarm he'd had Karen set that it was 9:40 went off did he leave.

Peter didn't like to impose on his friend so much, but Ned hadn't seemed to mind with the new addition of a supersuit and Mr. Stark being his soulmate, and the teenager couldn't help the way he was still avoiding Mr. Fowler like the plague. After leaving Mr. Stark's on Sunday and failing to stop a simple burglary, he'd hurried back to the group home, helping Eric with his homework and then cooping himself up in his room. He'd managed to avoid him the entire night and the next morning due to the man being passed out drunk in his room. Though he was still wracked with guilt at the fact that his foster father had stolen Mr. Stark's money on alcohol, he had to admit that it was at least useful.

Bidding goodnight to his friend, Peter slipped out of the apartment and hurried down onto the street where he joined the late night crowd as he made his way back to the group home. He popped his earbuds in and chose a song on his phone (that had an unlimited choice for him now, but he just stuck with his familiar Spotify playlists) as he rushed back to a place that he wished he could avoid for longer. Unfortunately, the curfew was final, so he made it back to the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys with five minutes to spare.

He stopped in front of the door as his hairs rose. Surprisingly, they didn't direct him towards the house, instead calling him to turn around. Peter glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of a man sitting at an apartment's steps a few buildings down. It was too dark to see his face, especially with the hat he wore pulled down low, but he looked just a little familiar. More than a little nervous, the teenager shook it off and stepped inside.

Mr. Fowler was waiting for him at the dining table. Peter paused, taking out his earbuds as Mr. Fowler turned to stare at him, chewing on a slice of pizza. For some reason, despite living in New York, the man was obsessed with frozen pizza. It was practically criminal, but Peter excused it as mind games since all the kids weren't allowed to eat any of it. Only a sociopath would eat exclusively frozen pizza in Queens.

"Pity. I was hoping you'd be late," Mr. Fowler frowned at Peter as he shuffled to a hesitant stop by the stairs. "Got another card for me?"

"No," Peter lied stiffly.

"What? No sugar daddy today?"

He knew better than to argue. "I hung out with Ned."

Mr. Fowler stared at him, but the travel agent was nothing if not a man of his word. Peter had been on time, so he waved the teenager on. Resisting the urge to scramble into the safety of his room, he whisked up the steep stairs and into the dark bedroom only lit by the lamp in the corner.

Tim was already asleep, but Jeremiah was sat on his bed going over what looked like a book report. The teenager paid Peter no mind as he dropped his bag onto the ground beside his bed and changed into a pajama shirt. He kept the hoodie on that Mr. Stark had given despite the warmth of the night as he slipped under his covers, bundling up in the reassuring fabric.

Peter didn't fall asleep for a while, grateful for the light provided by the lamp as he stared at the outline of Mr. Stark's shadow as though it were the only thing in the world. It might as well be for all he cared. Blocking out Mr. Fowler was quickly becoming a new necessity that was increasingly hard to do with the way his senses focused in on every little thing.

The entire house smelled of the man's alcohol, musty and strong and littered with the memories of a dark closet where even his shadow hadn't been able to comfort him. But the hoodie carried the fading scent of Mr. Stark that washed away his tired uneasiness, at least for the time being, and the shadow kept him preoccupied with one comforting thought. Out there, just across a bridge, was an adult who cared.

---

When Peter woke up, he felt off. He wasn't quite sure how to explain it, just that he knew the day was going to go wrong before it started. He wanted to curl up deeper into the hoodie that wrapped around him like a cocoon, but forced himself to push the covers off of himself and plant hit feet on the cold morning floor.

Jeremiah's bed was already empty, so Peter assumed that he'd already eaten and left with Eric, whose school started much earlier than everyone else's. Tim was still asleep, so Peter put on a pair of pants, grabbed his bag, and woke the kid up before knocking on the door of the other kids' room. He then headed downstairs and began putting together bowls of cereal for the kids that would be stumbling downstairs in a few minutes.

Mr. Fowler was in the kitchen, leaving the teenager to shuffle around him awkwardly as the man gave him a suspicious glare that he tried desperately to ignore. He left the kitchen as quickly as possible, placing the bowls down in the kids' usual spots and then taking up his own place to quickly scarf down a bowl of tasteless cereal. By the time he was finished, all the other kids had already stumbled downstairs and begun to eat.

Peter went along preparing their bags and then taking their bowls to the sink once they were done. He had just put the last dish in the dishwasher when the other boys at Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys walked out the door, leaving him alone with Mr. Fowler. The man was staring at him with the same suspicious glare as he closed the pantry and then made to grab his backpack.

"Wait just a moment, Peter," Mr. Fowler said. Peter paused immediately, holding back a shiver at the danger in his tone.

"Sir?"

"There was a pack of granola bars missing from the pantry last night." The man glared at him, clearly waiting for a reaction, but Peter just stared at him, hesitant. Which kid had taken the bars? He hadn't seen anything off in their bags, unless Mr. Fowler had just miscounted, though that didn't happen often. "Anything to say to that, Peter?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, sir. I didn't take them."

"You didn't? I find that very hard to believe. How close are you to ending your grounding?"

"Three days, Mr. Fowler."

He tutted, standing up from his chair and stepping over to Peter. The teenager couldn't stop the way he froze, tensing up and squaring his shoulders as a large, meaty hand clamped down on one. Fingers curled over the thick fabric of his hoodie, pricking at his skin.

"Well, it would be a pity if it was extended longer. You're sure you didn't take anything?"

"Nothing, sir." The hand flashed to his hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling his head down and to the side with a pained grunt. Peter forced his breaths to steady even as tears pricked at his eyes. "I didn't take anything, Mr. Fowler, I promise!"

"Then you've wasted my time, son. Do you know what makes up for lost time?"

"Wha-what? Sir."

"A bit of hard cash." Peter noticed the way the man's hand trembled. "That card was nice for the weekend, but I'm afraid I'm running a little low. Got anything else for me?"

His thoughts flashed to the newly activated card sitting in his wallet, tucked safely in his hoodie pocket. He could just give it up and walk away. Mr. Fowler would be happy and Peter could go to school, safe and sound.

Steely eyes met Mr. Fowler's impossibly strained ones. "No. I don't have any other money."

The fist let go of his hair, throwing him back. Peter caught himself in a stumble as Mr. Fowler looked at him in disgust.

"Fine," the man rasped. "Extend your grounding until next week, then. Now get to school before I'm forced to call you in an excuse."

Peter mumbled out a grated, "Yes, sir," before stumbling out the door. Instead of making his way to school, he stumbled into the nearest alleyway. The teenager sucked in a deep breath, cursing himself for the tears biting at his eyes and the panic choking his throat. He was fine. Nothing had happened. He was completely fine. It wasn't like the extension of his grounding even mattered, Peter had money to buy food when he needed it. Everything. Was. Fine.

But Peter wasn't fine. He was choking on air and stumbling on panic as he slid down a grimy alleyway wall, unable to even begin to calm down. He didn't know why he was even freaking out so bad, Mr. Fowler had only pulled his hair, but the revival of the strong smell of liquor and the closeness of the man's face to his was horribly haunting.

Peter pulled at his hair as he finally managed to wheeze in a breath, staring desperately at the shadow in front of him. Mr. Stark's fluffy hair and tall shoulders seemed to stare back at him, almost reassuring. The teenager shoved his nose into the collar of his cardinal hoodie, taking in a deep breath to drown out Mr. Fowler.

It calmed him slightly.

But not quite enough.

With chattering teeth, Peter pulled his bag off of his shoulder and tore the suit out of it. With no hesitation, he took off his clothes and stepped into the suit. Karen greeted him instantly.

"Good morning, Peter. Shouldn't you be heading to school?"

"Uh, no, no. Not today, Karen. That man, Aaron Davis? Where is he right now?"

A path was highlighted on his screen.

---

"Remember me?"

Peter's voice was almost hilariously unnatural, but the man at the car stumbled back, so he guessed it worked. He thundered forward to where Aaron Davis was trying to stumble away from his car but was pulled back by the web sticking to the open hood.

"Uh, hey..."

"I need information. You're gonna give it to me now," Peter demanded half-heartedly, the enhanced interrogation mode making his voice much angrier. Maybe it was better than he thought.

"All right, chill," Davis placated.

"Come on!"

Davis paused, staring at him in confusion. Peter tried not to shuffle on his feet. "What happened to your voice?"

Crap.

"What do you mean, what happened to my voice?"

"I heard you by the bridge. I know what a girl sound like," Davis deadpanned.

"I'm not a girl! I'm a boy," Peter protested, quickly moving to correct himself. "I mean, I'm a--I'm a man."

"I don't care what you are, a boy, a girl..." the man trailed off with a shrug, continuing to load his car with groceries.

"I'm not a girl! I'm a man," he protested again. "Come on, man. Look, who is selling these weapons? I need to know. Give me names--or else."

Davis slammed the trunk shut and Peter flinched back on instinct. The man flashed him a teasing smile, shaking his head.

"You ain't ever done this before, huh?"

"Deactivate interrogation mode," Peter said sullenly. Davis huffed in amusement, shaking his head again. "Look, man, these guys are selling weapons that are crazy dangerous. They can't just be out on the streets. Look, if one of them can just cut Delmar's bodega in half..."

Davis, not paying attention in the slightest, looked up, regarding him in slight interest. "You know Delmar's?"

"Yeah, best sandwich in Queens," he shrugged.

"Sub Haven's pretty good."

"It's too much bread."

"I like bread."

"Come on, man, please," the teenager begged one last time. Davis stared at him, unresponsive, so with a dramatic throw of his hands, Peter began to walk away. "Stupid interrogation mode. Karen, don't ever do that again."

"The other night," Aaron started. Peter turned around to look at him. "You told that dude, "if you shoot somebody, shoot me." It's pretty ballsy. I don't want those weapons in this neighborhood. I got a nephew who live here.

Tentatively, Peter stepped back over, catching sight of the man's shadow. It was smaller, clearly a boy with a tall afro.

"Who are these guys? What can you tell me about the guy with the wings?"

"Other than he's a psychopath dressed like a demon, nothing. I don't know who he is or where he is." Peter sighed, leaning his head on the car roof. He was never going to prove to Mr. Stark he was worthy of being his soulmate when he couldn't even find the vulture guy. Aaron offered, "I do know where he's gonna be."

Peter perked up. "Really?"

"Yeah, this crazy dude I used to work with, he's supposed to be doing a deal with him."

"Yes!" Peter exclaimed, beginning to step away in giddiness. "Yes. Thank--"

"Hey, hey, hey," Aaron called. Peter stopped. "I didn't tell you where. You don't have a location."

Peter flushed bright red, making his way back to the car in embarrassment. "Right, of course. Yeah, my bad. Silly. Just...Yeah. Where is it?"

"Can I give you some advice?" Peter hummed. "You got to get better at this part of the job."

"I don't understand. I'm intimidating."

He crossed his arms, but Aaron only shook his head again.

"Staten Island ferry, eleven."

"Oh, that's soon," Peter realized. He began to walk away, pointing a finger at where the man's hand was webbed. "Hey, that's gonna dissolve in two hours."

"No, no, no, no. Come fix this."

"Two hours. You deserve that."

"I got ice cream in here."

"You deserve that. You're a criminal! Bye, Mr. Criminal!!"

---

Tony clapped his hands together in an attempt to dust them off as he stared around the packaged remains of his lab. Scribbled formulas and problems had been wiped clean from boards, tables folded and disassembled, and prototypes all packed into boxes ready to be loaded onto the plane in a few days time. Most of what was left in his workplace was personal items and two encased Iron Man armors.

"How we looking on time, Fri?" he asked, grabbing his mug from where he'd placed it on the counter earlier and taking a sip.

"Packing for the move to the compound is on schedule, boss," the AI responded.

"Great," he said, smacking his lips at the comforting bitterness of his coffee, "How's the search for a Queens apartment going?"

"I have several different listings placed into the Itsy Bitsy Spider folder for you to look at."

"Great. Forward them to Pepper."

"Of course, sir."

Satisfied with the prospective of flipping through apartment listings closer to Peter in the evening, he glanced down at his shadow, frowning at the lack of fluffy hair there. It was Tuesday, wasn't it? He checked his watch for the time. Barely eleven. He was pretty sure Peter should be in school by now.

"Friday, is the spider-suit active?"

"Yes, sir."

He frowned harder. "Activate the Baby Monitor Protocol, I want to see what's going on."

"That protocol has been disabled, sir."

"What?"

The AI was silent for a moment before responding, "It has been disabled, along with many others. The only way to reinstate them would be manually."

Tony glanced down at his shadow again. Surely the kid wasn't messing with the suit? And especially not the protocols to keep him safe? And he'd skipped school, too.

"Call Peter."

---

Peter peered over the top of the ferry roof at the men gathering below, who practically screamed shady. He kept an eye on Dronie's recording, the small robot keeping an eye on the other two guys up on the ferry, while Karen highlighted the men below.

"Who’s the guy on the left?" he asked, his spine shivering as he looked at the man.

"Mac Gargan. Extensive criminal record, including homicide. Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark?"

"What? No. I've got this, Karen."

One of the men that Peter had seen at the bridge approached Gargan. Peter could easily pick up his muttered. "White pickup truck."

Gargan nodded at one of his crones, who immediately began walking into the inside of the ferry holding the cars.

"Dronie," Peter whispered. "Scan the ship for a white pickup truck."

He watched the footage apprehensively as Dronie flew farther outside the ferry, x-raying the boat to pick out the truck inside. The robot then zipped over to it, beginning to scan the contents covered in the trunk but flying away and back to Peter as a man stepped out the front. His leg bounced nervously as the robot settled back in his chest, his heart beating erratically.

"Oh, this is too perfect," Peter said. "I got the weapons, buyers, and sellers all in one place."

"Incoming call from Tony Stark."

"No, no, no. No, no, don’t answer."

Despite his protests, the screen of his suit was swept away as Mr. Stark filled his screen. Peter tried not to grimace, keeping a careful eye on the men below even as the billionaire began to speak.

"Mr. Parker. Got a sec?" Mr. Stark greeted with a tight smile.

"Uh, I’m actually at school," Peter lied, ignoring Karen's correction in his ear. "I gotta get back to class, Mr. Stark, so--"

"What class?"

"Uhh--" Shit, what did he have at eleven? "Alge--"

The ferry's horn blared excruciatingly loudly. Peter resisted the urge to grimace, trying to keep an eye on the criminals below still.

"Band. I'm at, uh, band practice."

Mr. Stark stared at him, unimpressed. "That's...odd. You told me you quit band when you started swinging around as Spider-Man."

"I gotta go. Uh, end call."

"Hey," Mr. Stark protested, but the screen clicked close, allowing Peter to clearly see the people below once more. He flicked out a wrist, snapping a web onto a pair of keys being handed over.

"I’ll take those! Yoink!" He flipped, snatching the keys and webbing them to the ceiling. "Hey, guys. The illegal-weapons-deal-ferry was at 10:30. You missed it."

He webbed away the weapons from two guys quickly and threw them into the water. With a shiver up his spine, he ducked out of the way of the approaching man wearing the shocking gauntlet. The man's weaponized arm got stuck in the net on the ferry.

While he was distracted with the gauntlet guy, the other two he'd disarmed had scrambled to their feet, egging for a get away. Peter turned lackadaisically, webbing them

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so fast." He threw the two to the ground. "Are you guys okay? My bad. That was a little hard. I gotta say the other guy was way better with that thing. I’m honestly, I’m, I’m shocked."

This was going super well.

---

Peter let out a short scream of pain, suspended between the two crumbling halves of the ferry. His arms burned as he gripped at the webs fruitlessly, but he refused to let go. He could hear their heartbeats, fast and afraid and exactly like his own. The teenager panted, straining harder than he ever had before only to continue to fail. The ferry wasn't coming back together, his webs hadn't done anything, and the entire ship was going to fall apart.

And yet he refused to let go, even as he felt his arms tear painfully. He cracked his eyes open, searching desperately for his shadow. It was currently lost in the waves crashing underneath as cars piled into the rushing water. There was a moment, so quick he almost missed it, where a car hood stayed still long enough just for him to make out the shadow.

Of an Iron Man armor.

There was a metal groaning and an easing on his shoulders. Peter looked away from his shadow.

"What the hell?" With the ferry putting itself together, the teenager let himself drop onto the ferry floor, arm raised in fearful apprehension as the sound of metal colliding echoed around the entire boat. "What the hell..."

Mr. Stark in the Iron Man armor rose into view at the windows. Despite the fact that he was wearing a mask, it was easy to tell he looked angry. Or, hopefully, he was reading too much into it and the suit was just mean looking.

"Hi, Spider-Man. Band practice, was it?"

Nope. He sounded mad too. Peter had to force down a shiver, ignoring the clapping people and swinging to the cargo hold as Mr. Stark flew under it, beginning to piece the ship back together. He followed anxiously on the ceiling, turmoil sitting heavy in his stomach as he followed the man.

"Uh, Mr. Stark?" he called nervously. He continued to skitter after the man as he flew up to the ferry's top, trying to catch the man's attention even as he continued to ignore the teenager. "Hey, Mr. Stark. Could I do anything? What do you want me to do?"

"I think you’ve done enough."

Peter couldn't even bear to look at his shadow.

---

"So that’s it, you’re just gonna run?" Adrian asked as Schultz approached with his overflowing duffle bag.

"Feds were waiting for us. Now we’re on Iron Man’s radar? Yeah, I’m running. You should, too."

"You know I can’t do that," Toomes said, glancing down at the shadow of his wife.

"So now what?" Schultz shrugged. Adrian rubbed at his chin.

"Mason, can you get that high-altitude seal thing up and running in time?"

"Seriously?" the engineer asked, comically giddy despite how hilariously screwed they all were. "Yes. You will not regret this."

Adrian turned back to Schultz. "You in?"

The man glanced down on the floor, contemplative. "If we get caught, we're dead. And we have days before that plane takes off. We'll be caught before then. Stark will get us, you know that."

"So we take care of Stark."

"Take care of Stark? You're crazy. How the hell are we gonna to kill Iron Man?"

Adrian thought for a moment, thoughts creeping back to the night over the lake; a defensive boy and an over-eager man and matching shadows. Peter Parker, as had been reported by one of his men following the kid. He even went to Liz's school, on her academic team and everything. He hurt a little to do this, but nothing was more important than family.

"We don't need to kill Stark," Adrian responded. "We just need to insure his compliance."

---

Tony finally spotted the kid sitting on the edge of the building, his legs thrown over the side, his mask torn off his face as he stared down at the water. The bulky outline of the Iron Man armor extended behind him, an imposing figure compared to the hunched and shivering kid. The sound of sirens and helicopters rang in the distance, only feeding fuel to the fire that was his anger. It had been two days since he'd given Peter the suit and he'd already hacked it, lied to him, and endangered the lives of more than a hundred people. He'd taken Tony's tech and ran with it, doing what the man had warned the teenager not to do, and almost gotten himself killed too.

It terrified him just as much as it infuriated him.

"Previously on Peter Screws the Pooch," Tony started, hovering next to Peter's spot on the building. "I tell you to stay away from this. Instead, you hacked a multimillion-dollar suit so you could sneak around behind my back doing the one thing I told you not to do."

"Is everyone okay?" Peter rasped.

"No thanks to you."

He clunked down on the ground, but Peter barely even looked at him, just grasping the mask in his fingers tighter. After a tense moment, the kid turned to glare at him, a sour look on his face.

"What do you care?"

The question almost shocked Tony from his anger, but the fury managed to cling on as the suit opened, allowing for him to step out. There was a defensive flicker on Peter's face, washed away as quickly as it came, at the stiff anger glued to his figure.

"What do I care?" he echoed incredulously. "Who the hell gave you the suit that you're wearing right now? The one that you used to go fight people you weren't ready to fight. Peter, you're not prepared for this--"

"I didn't see you doing anything."

"Who do you think called the FBI, huh?" Tony demanded.

"And they got their asses kicked immediately!"

"And you did what exactly?"

Peter swallowed. A soft, angry mumble shivered from his chest. "I just wanted to be like you."

Tony glowered. "And I wanted you to be better."

Peter didn't have an answer to that, turning away with a sharp flinch to stare down at the water again where the ferry was finally beginning to dock. His face was scrunched up in cold anger. Tony stared at him, waiting, but the teenager didn't do anything. Didn't say anything. With an indignant sniff, Tony glanced between the approaching boat of people and the kid sitting stiffly in front of him.

"Okay, it’s not working out. I’m gonna need the suit back."

That caught Peter's attention. His head whipped around and he finally swiveled off of the building's edge, standing to face him. The defensiveness was back in full force now, broken only by a shiver of fear in the tremble on his face.

The teenager swallowed. "For how long?"

"Forever." Peter gaped at him, shaking his head. Tony hit him with a withering expression. "Yeah. Yeah, that’s how it works."

"No, no, no... Please, please, please..." the kid rushed, his voice pitching higher.

"Let’s have it."

"You don’t understand. Please. This is all I have. I’m nothing without this suit."

"If you’re nothing without this suit, then you shouldn’t have it." Tony stopped in his demand, pausing to stare into the distance under the guise of letting Peter absorb his words but really choking down his own panic and regret. This was how he was treating his soulmate. He hadn't known this kid for a week and he'd had maybe two successful conversations with him. And now he was yelling and bringing down and punishing. "God, I sound like my dad."

Peter stared at him, swallowing. "Mr. Stark, please I don't want you to g--"

"The suit. Peter."

He could barely even look at the kid's completely dejected expression.

---

Peter meandered down the street, his head down as he forced himself to bite down on tears. It wasn't that hard, he'd had a lot of practice recently after all, but he couldn't deny that it hurt. Well, he could, but not to himself.

With the loss of the suit, Peter's bag was considerably lighter. Empty. It was disturbingly similar to how he felt in the moment, like a stumbling shell of a person.

He'd fucked up. He knew he had. But he didn't think he'd fucked up enough to lose his soulmate. He'd just--he'd just wanted to try and impress Mr. Stark, to show the man that he was worthy of being the shadow that had followed the superhero--his hero--around for fifteen years. He huffed to himself quietly at the horrible irony of it all.

After Mr. Stark had demanded to the suit, well, Peter had given it to him. He hadn't had much other choice. The man had allowed for him to go grab the bag he'd webbed to an alleyway earlier and change into his clothes. Choking down panicked tears, the teenager had folded up the barely used suit, and, after a moment of hesitation, slipped the card, the phone, and the badge given to him into the mask. He wanted to have given him the red hoodie too, but it was the only top he'd had, so he'd reluctantly kept it. He'd given the stuff that was no longer his to the still seething Avenger and had left. Mr. Stark hadn't ask where he was going, so he hadn't told him.

Not that Peter was amazingly sure he knew himself. He didn't want to go back to where Mr. Fowler was surely working from home. Peter was supposed to be at school, the man would be furious that he hadn't gone, and he didn't have the courage to face him right now. The ghosted feeling of a hand tugging at his hair and painful nails in his shoulder was enough to keep him wandering the streets of Queens for as long as he possibly could.

There wasn't a destination, there was barely even a journey, there was just the tired wanderings of a teenager trying desperately not to break down crying. Part of him wished he'd kept the phone, just so he could text Ned, or even lose himself mindlessly on social media for an hour or two, but Mr. Stark's words rang clearly in his head.

"Forever."

Peter shook himself vigorously, taking a wispy breath. Of course he would lose his soulmate not even a week after meeting him. Everyone else had left too, it really only made sense.

He didn't know why he'd let himself hope.

"I don't want you to go."

A painfully strong shiver up his spine forced the teenager to stop in the middle of the alleyway he'd been cutting through. Peter pulled back his sleeve, brows furrowing as the hairs on his arm rose on end. Without his phone, or the watch kept on his webshooter, the teen had no way of knowing what time it was, but it had to have been at least half an hour since Mr. Stark had taken the suit. Since he'd caused a gun to split a ferry full of innocent bystanders in half.

"And I wanted you to be better."

Peter had assumed his senses had continued to freak out from the resounding adrenaline and the complete rush of panic that had been today--from the horribleness of it all--but they still weren't calming down.

Jittery, he turned to leave the alleyway back the way he came, but there was a man blocking his way. He froze when he recognized him and the glitching gauntlet on his arm. From the bridge and the ferry. The man stalked forward.

Peter whipped around to escape towards the other end, but another man stood there as well, a different alien weapon in his hands. Peter paused again, eyes shifting desperately for an escape even as the weapon behind him charged up with a threatening snap.

"Give it up, kid," ordered the man. "Come easy, and we won't hurt you."

"Wow. So reassuring," Peter snapped. Without warning, the teenager leaped, jumping onto the wall as high as he could reach. He attempted to begin skittering up the wall, but there was another spike in his senses.

There was no time to dodge as he was encased by an annoyingly familiar blue light that crashed him to the ground straight into a gathering of trashcans. He groaned in pain as he collided with the metal, the cans tipping over and releasing their contents near and on him. There were footsteps, and he tried to push himself back up, but the man with the gauntlet approached quicker than he could recover.

The teenager stared up at him as the man smirked. The gauntlet cracked.

"Nighty-night."

Peter could only close his eyes as a metal fist came crashing down.

---

~Click for better quality~

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

#friendly neighborhood exchange #peter parker #tony stark #Iron Man #spiderman #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #ironman fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #not st*rker #you would not BELIEVE the amount of time i spent on the stupid thing peter is sitting on #idk who designed that #but fuck them

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turquoise-stones · 4 years ago

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Save Your Tears

Bakugou x Reader

artist link (a bit nsfw, careful)

Request: hello!! I would like to request a scenario with bakugo and the reader inspired in the lyrics of the song "save your tears" by the weeknd? only if u want of course 😊 angst if it's possible!

A/N: Okay I hope you like it! It’s not a songfic sadly cause I talk too much so it didn’t fit into a the song lmao. Listen on spotify or something cause I realized you can’t actually play a video and read on tumblr :/ Oh and ya’ll are aged up.

. . .

It was painfully stuffy in his blazer, and the ice in his liquor did nothing to help. If Kirishima hadn't of dragged him to this "Top Hero Get Together Party" on the threat that his connections would waver if he didn't attend, Bakugou was certain he would be home sleeping.

An exhausted sigh escaped his lips, and he glanced at the clock, wondering how many more extras he needed to interact with before he was allowed to call it a night and leave. Taking a sip, he winced as the alcohol left a trail of heat down his throat. He wasn't one to drink (he like to be in control of himself) but like most night for the past week, he'd let it slide.

Glancing bitterly at the swaying bodies on the dance floor, his eyes aimlessly searched the crowd again for your figure. But he knew it was pointless because you wouldn't be there, after all, you were never one for par-

Yet there you were.

The mass of bodies parted and for a moment his eyes locked onto your swaying form. The soft overhead lights made you look almost magical as they caught on the creamy material of your dress. The clench of his jaw slackened as you twirled, curled hair flowing out behind you and lips forming a sweet laugh that he could practically hear in his head.

He stood up rapidly as you slipped out of view, barely registering the annoyed grumbling of the bartender as he knocked over his glass. His eyes desperately scanned the crowd, heart suddenly beating painfully fast.

Right as he was about to push his way through the crowd, he spotted you again--and now that the initial shock was gone he noticed something absolutely rage inducing. The reason why you were dancing, the reason why you were smiling... was because you were with Midoriya. With Deku.

The jealousy that burned in his veins was indescribable. Why were you here with Deku? Why did you look so happy?

A low growl slipped from his mouth as Midoriya's hand traveled up to your back, dipping you down with the music. You were glowing on the dance floor, carefree joy practically radiating off you as you swirled. He selfishly wanted you to look at him, to show him that loving and adoring expression he hadn't seen in so long... The longer he stared, the more aware he was of the painful tightness growing in his chest. After all these years with you, did it really take nothing more than a month for you to move on? Were you... over him? Did you already forget?

He bit his lip, a flush of foolishness and shame washing over him. What was wrong with him? It was him that made the mistake, it was his fault that you were in the arms of another man. But by god did he regret it. He regretted everything. Maybe this was his punishment.

He had no right to be jealous, you weren't his to hold. At least not anymore.

As if you could feel his penetrating stare, you finally turned your head to face him. Maybe it was because he was so deprived of you, but the sight was intoxicating. You were beautiful. Even when you flinched and snapped your head away, you were beautiful.

Midoriya placed his hand on your shoulder, looking around for the cause of your alarm. Bakugou watched you shake your head, arms slipping off Midoriya's shoulders as you quickly walked away.

It hurt when he realized that just the sight of him was enough to make you run away. The things he would do to take all that hurt away...

He sat back down, glaring daggers at the bartender cleaning the spill of alcohol in front of him.

"Give me another one."

. . .

He exited the bathroom, letting out a low groan of pain as he subdued the rush of nausea that clouded his head every time he opened his eyes. What was he doing, getting wasted like some out of control teenager... He didn't understand why he couldn't bring himself to leave this damn party.

"Katsuki."

His head shot up, and he winced at the spike of pain that shot through him.

You were so close that he could have reached out and touched you. A pang hit his heart when he noticed how your eyes were puffy, and your cheeks were flushed in a way that told him you weren't any more sober than he was. It was impossible to resist the urge to stare when he hadn't seen your pretty face up close in so long.

"Fuck. (Y/n)."

"I... didn't think you'd be here tonight."

Bakugou let out a grunt, straightening up and leaning a shoulder against the wall for support.

"I'm surprised you're here too."

You let out a humorless chuckle, rubbing your arms self-consciously.

"How... how have you been?"

"Fine." He swallowed, throat dry.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Hmph."

"Did you... come here with anyone?" You asked cautiously.

"No. Unless you count shitty hair."

You let out a small laugh at the way he addressed Kirishima. As rude as it was, you had missed those stupid nicknames he had for everyone.

"I haven't heard much on the news about Ground Zero lately."

His heart thudded as his hero name escaped your mouth. It was true that for the first time in his life, he had been slacking in his duties. But still, the slightly mocking tone in your voice irked him. "Well it's not like I've been feeling like shit for the past month." He grumbled, annoyed.

The awkward tension resurfaced almost immediately. You stumbled for words but nothing came out.

"What about you?" He questioned, breaking the silence.

"What?"

"You're here with fricken Deku right?"

"Oh... mm yeah."

Bakugou hated the small smile that graced your lips. Why were you smiling for that fucking nerd?

"Why're you with him?" He tried his best to keep the hurt off his voice, but it shone through anyways.

"He asked me to come with him to... cheer me up."

"Are you with him now?" He asked coldly, in contrast with the burning jealousy he felt. The nerve of that bastard.

"No. We're friends." You said firmly.

"Fucking Deku of all people." He snarled. "Of all the shitty extras in the world you chose him."

"I said we're not dating!"

"Deku seems to want to think so."

"Stop! Are you seriously getting jealous!?" You cried in exasperation.

He twitched.

"Fuck yes I'm jealous!" He roared. "We break up and not one month later you're off dancing with that nerd!"

"He's not a nerd, he's a hero just like you and me!"

"Does he touch you?" He asked abruptly, the image of you looking so happy still seared in his mind. "Does he kiss you?"

"Why does it matter!?" You were starting to regret coming up to talk to him.

"Why are you with someone else!?"

"Oh, so I still belong to you!?" You roared back, alcohol fueling your sudden spurt of anger. "You threw away years of us just to fuck some sidekick!"

Deadened silence fell between the two of you. The moment the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. The two of you had been through this already, all these words had been said before...

"I..." He faltered.

"So don't start." You said breathlessly. "Don't accuse me. You made the mistake Katsuki. I'm just trying to feel better."

He visibly faltered, jealousy ebbing off a bit when he caught the exhausted expression on your face. You looked up at him with a sigh, before joining him in leaning against the wall.

"I don't want to fight... I just want to talk about it." You murmured. "Now that we've had time to think."

An almost imperceptible flinch crossed his face.

"Shit, (y/n)..."

"Well?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." You took a breath. "I'll go first." You said quietly, not wanting to look at him. The utter rage you had felt when you first confronted him after finding out had dissipated with time, only to be replaced by sadness.

"I don't want it to be like this. But, you did hurt me. And I don't know if we can move past that."

"Fuck, I know." He groaned. "I know I screwed up."

You sighed, feeling the frustration prick at the corner of your eyes. Even now, it hurt to see him in pain as well. "But for some stupid reason, I still miss you. I should hate you for what you did, but for some reason I just can't." You let out a derisive laugh. "Isn't that stupid of me?"

You saw him bite his lip out of the corner of your eye.

"I've known you for so long Katsuki. That's why it hurts so much to know you cheated on me. But... that's also why I can't let you go."

You peeked up at him, watching the way his eyes softened at your words.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for... for cheating on you. And for running away."

"Why did you do it?" You asked quietly. His eyebrows tightened and he closed his eyes briefly before refocusing on you.

"I... I don't know."

"I think I deserve an answer."

"I was being an idiot." He grumbled, frustrated.

"You were." You let out a dry chuckle. "But I want a reason."

You waited but his furrowed brows told you that you weren't getting an answer.

"Was I not enough, Katsuki?"

"No." He said firmly, distress edging on his voice. "You were always enough."

"Then why? Why?"

"...you were on a long mission. I was having trouble sleeping without you. And I was frustrated with the job I was on. And my sidekick offered to take the tension away... and it happened."

"And then it happened again."

"...yes."

"And again."

"Yes."

"And again."

"(Y/n)..."

Your face was impassive as you took in his words. The silence that ensued was long enough to cause Bakugou to panic.

"(Y/n) say something." He said desperately, leaning down to try and catch a glimpse of your face hidden by your hair. Reaching out, he touched your cheek, flinching when he felt warm wetness run down his finger.

"Fuck, don't cry."

"I-"

"I'm sorry." He murmured, heart hurting at the sight of you. It was awful seeing you with Midoriya, but seeing you in tears because of his actions was so much worse.

You let our a choked sob, pushing his hand away. He caught on and didn't let go, even though you tried to jerk free.

"Why did you run away?" You asked angrily.

"What?"

"When I caught you. You couldn't even face me."

He cringed, remembering the terrible night you had returned from your mission early, ready to greet him at his agency with a surprise visit.

"I cried for so long you... you asshole." You cried.

"I was afraid of what you would say." He grit his teeth as he forced himself to tell the truth. "I was too damn guilty."

"You stupid idiot... you're such a fucking jerk." You cried, the broken tone of your voice not quite matching your words. "You promised you'd always stay."

"I know."

"You promised you'd always love me."

"I know. I did. I still do."

"Do you?"

"I'm sorry." He said, voice growing softer as he stepped closer again. "I never said it enough. I love you."

The two of you fell into silence once more, the quiet only broken by your occasional sniffles. Bakugou was about to reach for you before you spoke again.

"I want to forgive you." You said, wiping at your running makeup. "But how will I know you won't hurt me again?"

"Fuck, I promise you I won't. This time for real." He said quietly, the rough pads of his thumbs coming up to swipe at the tears you missed.

"Then tell me you're sorry... like you mean it." You said sorrowfully.

Did you know that he would throw every ounce of his pride away for you?

"I'm... sorry." His hands came to rest on your forearms. "I made the mistake. I broke your heart. I took you for granted. You deserve someone so much better than me."

He took a breath, eyes closing momentarily. "I did everything wrong. But if you let me try again... I'll do better. Please take me back. I want you to be mine again."

"Katsuki..."

"I never want to make you cry ever again. So stop... stop."

"Okay." You choked out, unable to manage anything else.

"Okay?" He echoed, surprised at your quick answer. Hooking a finger under your chin, he tilted your face up.

"Y-yeah." You sobbed out, before his grip tightened around you and your face collided right into his chest. He didn't need any more confirmation than that.

"Shit- (Y/n)." His nose burrowed into your hair, taking in the sweet smell of your perfume and squeezing you. He didn't deserve to be forgiven, yet you had it in your heart to forgive him. He wondered how he was blessed with someone as devoted and accepting as you.

"I won't look at anyone other than you. I'll always put your happiness first. I'll always love you. I'll... fuck, (y/n) I'd do anything for you from now on, I promise."

"I hope you're telling the truth..." You sighed, hands coming up to grip the back of his jacket.

"I am."

It was warm and comfortable, a feeling you had been missing for the past month. How much time passed with just the two of you locked in an embrace, you could not tell.

Eventually he let out a quiet chuckle, rubbing circles on your back. "Look how fucking mushy you make me."

You let out a hum of content. You had missed being in his arms.

"It's getting late. Let's go home, (y/n)."

Masterlist

#angst #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #reader insert #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha #bnha

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team-free-will-oneshots · 6 years ago

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Fools

Title: Fools

Prompt: “Fools” by Lauren Aquilina… defs my favourite song at the moment, highly recommend the Live at RAK Studios version on spotify !!

Summary: there’s only one bed !!!

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: FLUFF !!!! NOTHING BUT FLUFF MY DUDES EVERYONE IS HAPPY FOR ONCE

Word Count: 2,090

note; ok ok so i know this is the latest in a lot of sam content but u dont have all the facts, which are: i love him

jokes aside i wrote this loosely for sammy’s bday!! i know its a bit late but oh well. and also im a total slut for the “theres only one bed!!!” trope so. here we go.

________

Two beds. Three people. You weren’t a mathematician by any means, but you knew something about this picture didn’t quite add up.

Dean groaned as the motel door fell shut behind you. He, you and Sam were all beaten and cold from a trying wendigo hunt, and there was nothing any of you wanted more than to crawl into some nice, clean sheets and get a good night’s sleep for once.

“I’ll go to the reception,” Dean muttered, and you shot him a look.

“Really? Looking like that?” you asked sceptically, eyeing the Winchester’s torn clothes and hands stained with dried blood. “Cos that would go down so well.”

“Well, what do you suggest?” Dean countered, tone aggressive with exhaustion.

“Easy - someone takes the couch,” you said, nodding to the seat squashed between the beds and the tiny box television.

“Great, you do that, I’m getting some well earned shut eye,” Dean muttered, tossing his duffel bag onto the bed.

“Uh, excuse me?”

“Your idea, you take the couch,” he reasoned. “Sam and I are both too tall for it, anyways.” You opened your mouth to argue, but you were far too tired to come up with a decent retort.

“That’s not fair,” you mumbled. “Come on, rock paper scissors,” you insisted, and Dean groaned while Sam sighed tiredly from the corner.

“You two do that, I’m taking a shower,” he informed you, the bathroom door swinging shut behind him. Your gaze hardened as your eyes locked with Dean’s.

“Come on. Loser takes the couch,” you prompted, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he said, throwing scissors as you threw paper. His face lit up in a grin, while your groan echoed throughout the room.

“Fine,” you snapped. “But I call dibs on next shower.”

“Fine by me,” Dean said, collapsing back onto his bed, fully clothed. He was snoring before Sam came back out.

The youngest Winchester’s lips curled in amusement as he saw you grumpily sitting on the couch, arms folded and knees up to your chest.

“Really, Y/N? You know Dean always throws scissors,” he teased, and you made a face at him.

“Lay off, I’m tired,” you grumbled, trudging into the bathroom as Sam tried to restrain his smile.

“Sorry!” he called after you, though his tone was still dripping with amusement. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling yourself. You could never stay mad at Sam. If you were being honest with yourself, you’d had feelings for him for some time - but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he felt the same way, so you found it was best to just… repress it. You didn’t want to risk ruining what you had.

The hot water did wonders for the tension you still held in your shoulders, drawing it out with the steam and washing away your adrenaline with the blood and grime. Your eyes lit up as you saw Sam’s shampoo, conditioner and hair treatment still sitting on the small metal rack attached to the shower head. At last, a reprieve from the curses this night had brought you!

When you left the bathroom, cosy in your pyjamas and smelling like Sam, the motel room had fallen into darkness. You could just make out your surroundings from the meagre light of the parking lot that crept beneath the curtains. You sighed as you saw your “bed”, looking even more cramped and lumpy in the dim light.

Collapsing onto it tiredly, you found yourself smiling as your hands registered a neatly folded duvet slung over the armrest. You knew Dean wouldn’t have left it there - he hadn’t seemed to have moved since his initial collapse into slumber. You glanced over at Sam’s bed, just making out his sleeping figure, devoid of a blanket.

A small smile tugged at your lips, and you settled into a lying position, staring at the roof as you tried to get to sleep. You almost drifted off several times, but each time you started awake - the first time you’d shifted and hurt your neck. The second time you’d almost fallen to the ground. When you nearly fell off for a second time, you gave a short huff and stomped to your feet, tossing the duvet onto the floor and dropping onto it in irritation, curling up in the small space between the television cabinet and the couch.

The room fell silent, and you hadn’t realised until now just how loud your fussing had been. You laid completely still, save for your fingertips, which fidgeted absentmindedly with a loose thread of carpet.

“Y/N?”

Sam’s whisper was startlingly close. You jolted in surprise, knocking your head on the wooden cabinet in your haste and yelping quietly. You squinted in the dark, making out Sam’s tall figure standing behind the couch.

“Sorry, did… did I wake you?” you asked. Sam shook his head.

“No, I couldn’t sleep anyways,” he dismissed, flinching as you adjusted and knocked your elbow. “Come on, this is ridiculous. Just share the bed with me - there’s plenty of room,” he invited. You felt your heart stutter. You had half a mind to refuse, but the temptation of a warm, soft bed was too strong of a lure.

“Are- are you sure?” you checked, and Sam nodded.

“Of course,” he chuckled. “We’re adults, I’m sure we can handle sharing a bed for a night. Here,” he said, extending his hand. You clasped it tightly, letting him pull you to your feet. You snagged the duvet on your way to the bed, which you gratefully collapsed into, relishing in the soft sheets and the springy mattress, even if it was a little creaky.

Sam squeezed in next to you, and you froze as you realised how close the two of you were. What a liar - “plenty of room” your ass. The bed was a double, but it felt more like a single with Sam’s hulking body folded into it. He was so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body - that man was like a furnace - and smell the scent of soap clinging to his skin. The sense of closeness was only amplified as Sam draped the duvet over the both of you, caging you against each other to ward off the cold.

“You have enough blanket?” Sam asked. You could hear the rustle of his hair against the pillowcase as he moved. You swallowed.

“Y-yeah,” you managed.

“‘Kay. Night,” he mumbled tiredly. He was so still you weren’t sure he could hear your whispered response.

“Goodnight.”

—

It was still dark when you woke - you couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour. You had that funny taste in your mouth from an interrupted nap, and your movements were sluggish as you tried to shift your position. You heard a sleepy mumble of protest and froze as you realised exactly how you laid.

You blinked a few times to adjust your eyes to the darkness, heart skipping as you registered Sam’s arms locked tightly around your waist as he spooned you, your back pressed close to his chest. You ceased your movement, praying he wouldn’t wake, that you could have a chance to relax into this moment and enjoy it just a little longer.

“Y/N?” Sam murmured sleepily. “You okay?”

“F-fine, Sammy. Go back to sleep,” you whispered, and you felt him freeze has he felt his hold on you. He quickly drew back his arms.

“Oh- sorry,” he said, chuckling nervously. He cleared his throat. “Uh… night.”

But you were wide awake now, and you knew he was as well- you could feel it in the tenseness of his body, the way he purposefully kept an inch of space between the two of you, not wanting to infringe on your boundaries. His breathing was uneven, and with that said, so was yours. Your heart slammed against your ribs as you gathered your courage and, after a few moments, you rolled over to face him.

You started as you realised how close he truly was - his face was barely an inch from yours. His breath fanned over your lips.

“Hey.” His voice was quiet, and you saw him smile sheepishly through the darkness. His happiness was contagious, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hey.”

“Can’t sleep?”

You gave a small shake of your head. Sam made a sound of empathy, and you were so close you could feel it rumble through his chest.

“Me either,” he said. The two of you fell into a somewhat awkward silence, broken when Sam spoke again. “Sorry about- about before,” he stammered, and you cringed inwardly.

“Oh. Um. That’s okay.” You weren’t sure what made you tack on your next words. “I didn’t mind.”

“Neither did I,” he admitted after a beat. You fell into another silence, comfortable now, his features coming into focus as your eyes adjusted to the low lights. You saw his long eyelashes brush his cheeks when he blinked, could point out every tiny freckle that found its home on his skin, every strand of stubble lining his jaw. He swallowed hard, and you could see the movement of his Adam’s apple.

Sam’s eyes found yours, and there was something in his soft gaze that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He shifted closer - his lips were only a hair’s breadth from yours. Your heart rate picked up again, and you were certain he could feel it - you were almost chest to chest.

Sam spared a glance at your lips, so quick that if you’d blinked you would have missed it. He took a shaky breath, and you felt your palms prickle with nervous sweat as he leaned in… and suddenly, his lips were tentatively brushing over yours.

Your breath caught in surprise, and Sam drew back quickly, eyes wide with panic.

“Shit. Shit. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

You cut him off by sealing your mouth to his, and within a moment he was smiling and melting back into the kiss. He kissed you tenderly, lips moving over yours with a touch lighter than a feather’s, but as you pressed closer, so did he. His mouth became firm on yours, one of his hands weaving through your hair as the other sought the bare skin of your waist as it crept up beneath your shirt. Sam’s tongue teased your own, and you could taste spearmint toothpaste on his breath as your hands fisted in his shirt, knuckles white as you clutched him tightly. He sighed softly as you both drew back for breath, and suddenly he was kissing along your jaw, placing gentle kisses down your throat… he stopped as he reached your collarbone, breathing heavily for a moment as his head nestled in the crook of your neck. You combed your fingers through his hair, silky and still slightly damp under your touch.

Sam came back up to leave one last lingering kiss on your lips.

“That was nice,” you said, barely containing the smile stretching over your face. He grinned, ducking his head shyly.

“Yeah. I’ve… I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted, and his confession had you smiling so wide your face hurt.

“Me too,” you breathed, still running your fingers lightly over his scalp as your free hand found his shoulder. Sam moved his hand up your back, tracing soothing patterns over your skin.

“So… what now?” he asked quietly, and you released a short breath. You both knew there was no going back to just friends, not now. But moving forward… together? Do you take that risk? What if you loved like fools, and ruined everything? Lost all that you had?

You shook the thoughts from your mind. You wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone - and maybe that was dangerous, but right here, cloaked in the safety of the darkness, with his vulnerability written so clearly on his face…

“All I know is… I want you. So… if you feel the same, let’s just see where the road takes us, and not worry about anything else.” Your voice was hushed, captured in the darkness, a secret held forever between the two of you. Sam smiled.

“Yeah. Not worrying. That sounds perfect.”

You smiled, and he captured it with another kiss. He paused, drawing back for a moment, his brow creased as he shot you a perplexed look. “Did you… did you use my shampoo?”

You nodded sheepishly, and Sam chuckled before leaning in and crushing his lips to yours once more.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam x reader #spn #supernatural #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester fluff imagine #spn fluff imagine #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural fluff imagine #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #spn fic #spn fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #reposting cos the last one didnt show up in the tags ??

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fuckyeahqueermusic · 5 years ago

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FY!QM’s Favorite Albums of 2019 Part 2

Happy Super Bowl Sunday, here have a list of my favorite albums of 2019. You can click here to read part 1 if you missed it, but part 2 is all my absolute favorite releases from the year. Two of them aren’t even EPs, let alone full albums, but it is my list and I am the boss so I can do what I want!!

Obviously a ton of great music was released this year, but I think compared to 2018 it was a little lacking. Which is understandable, that was a bonkers killer year for new music, but I’m already psyched for all that’s coming out in 2020, and I have a feeling I am going to have a hard time doing a round up of everything I loved come next December (or January....or February, who’s to say!)

Anyways, onto my favs of 2019!

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Carly Rae Jepsen — Dedicated Okay, so first off we have to talk about how one of the first working titles for this album was “Songs To Clean Your House To”, and how it is a CRIME we were deprived of that. Well, it will always be the real title in my heart.

So, Dedicated is not Emotion. It was never going to be Emotion, and that is okay. It is still an absolutely meticulously crafted, nearly perfect pop record. One that’s not only is full of great singles and individual certified bops (”Julien” anyone????), but actually works as a whole record, an increasing rarity in the mainstream pop landscape. But you can feel how much CRJ cares about what she puts out, and while some songs are weaker than others, there is no filler, and every track has something to enjoy on it. She is still the QUEEN of mid-tempo jams, with “No Drug Like Me,” “Too Much,” and “Automatically In Love” already up in the pantheon of all time mid-tempo jams. Some folks might have been disappointed we didn’t get Emotion 2.0, but I am thrilled CRJ wants to keep growing as an artist, and that she isn’t content to keep releasing the same thing over and over again, even though she very easily could.

Telethon — Hard Pop Telethon is hands down one of the best rock bands in the game right now, and I am thrilled they finally seem to be gaining a bit of traction outside the extremely cult following they’ve been building over the past five years. They have hooks for days, their music a master class in power pop song writing, combined with some of the densest lyric writing I have ever seen. Lead singer and lyricist Kevin Tully crafts each song like a short story about millennial mundanity and quarter life crises: using the exhaustion of finding a new apartment to examine long simmering anxiety, or trying to figure out if contentment is settling, and being too tired to know if you can tell the difference, while getting asked if you have weed at a terrible house party. It’s an album that feels like your late 20’s and early 30’s, with just enough optimism from a synth line to let you know that maybe everything will be okay in the end, maybe not, but it’s not stupid to hope.

Also they are not afraid of a ska influenced breakdown, and for that I must salute them.

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Great Grandpa — Four of Arrows This is far and away my most listened to album of the year, and it only came out in October. Every song is masterfully crafted to stick in your head, and whenever I put on “Bloom,” “Rosalie,” or “Treat Jar,” I HAVE to listen to it at least three times in a row. The songwriting on this album is just fucking astonishing, and it completely runs the gamut from acoustic driven indie to 80’s big power chord pop rock, without feeling incongruent at all. It is incredible that this is the same band that made Plastic Cough only two years ago. Not that their debut was bad, but this album is just such a massive leap in skill and sound that it is truly amazing. Just a completely beautiful record from front to back, and I am so excited to see where this band goes next.

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that dog — Old LP For the last 3 years that dog’s one semi-hit from 1997, “Never Say Never,” has been in my top 5 played songs of the year on Spotify (it currently has 186,000 plays. I would wager about 100,000 of those are me). I would argue it is the catchiest song ever written. It was on an album, Retreat From The Sun, that is back to back to back catchy jams. that dog should’ve been one of the most famous bands in the world, and I have been lamenting hard for some time that we never got more music from them. They broke up in 1997, scattering to the winds to be involved in making some of your favorite music (Josie and the Pussycats soundtrack anyone???)

Until last year. Anna Waronker got the band back together and that dog released their first album in 22 years, Old LP. And it’s like barely any time has passed. Old LP is practically perfect 90’s pop-rock, insanely catchy with enough of an edge and interesting flourishes (they credit basically a whole orchestra in the liner notes) to make you want to put the whole thing on repeat for a few hours. Or maybe that’s just me. Either way, I am so happy that dog is back in some capacity, and here’s hoping this is not the last we hear of them.

(Also I picked this live performance of “Bird On A Wire” cause Allison Crutchfield from Swearin’ is there???)

Fireworks — Demitasse single This is not an album, or even an EP, but this is my list and I can do what I want and that includes fawning over a single from what is sure to be one of my top albums of 2020. Fireworks’ reunion was my biggest surprise of the year. They are a band that defined the last decade for me, their lifespan cut too short due to a crowded market and evolving too fast for their audience (they should be The Wonder Years level of famous and beloved, as they were, no offense to Soupy and the boys, the superior band). But after four years away they returned with a 6 minute slow burn of a song, solemn and sparse, until the full band crashes in more than ¾ of the way through. The first time I got to 5:08 in the song, the mix of pure catharsis and active anger that they disbanded in 2015 and we were denied new material from them until now I felt guaranteed Higher Lonely Power will almost certainly be THE album of 2020.

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Team Dresch — Your Hands My Pocket “7 Perhaps even more important than Fireworks comeback, the biggest music news of 2019 for me was Team Dresch’s reunion. They are a band that I trace pretty much all my modern musical tastes to, and they are hugely influential to me and so many others in what they proved was possible for queer music to be. When that reunion ALSO came with new music, I about lost my mind. “Your Hands My Pocket” sounds like no time has passed since Captain My Captain came out: perfect hooks, heartfelt earnest lyrics, the vocal trade off between Jody Bleyle and Kaia Wilson, and all the queer pop-punk jubilation I want. The b-side “Baskets,” is classic Team Dresch emo (and yes I will argue to the ends of the earth that Team Dresch is one of the best emo bands of the 90s), with big volume shifts and longing vocals (and that bridge!). The only bad thing about this release is that there’s not more! Maybe if we all beg hard enough, they’ll make one more album.

#fy!qm's favorite albums of 2019 #carly rae jepsen #telethon #great grandpa #that dog #team dresch #fireworks

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blurglesmurfklaine · 5 years ago

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Cornelia Street (5/9)

A/N: oh my god they were quarantined

yes. It’s one of those fics.

AU, obvs

I’m posting as I go and idk how many parts this is going to be, likely won’t be very long but I literally don’t know what I’m doing and should i be starting yet another WIP? definitely not but fuck it lets fucking go

Title is from T-swizzles Lover album, I’m OBSESSED

Summary: Three years ago, Kurt and Blaine went on a disaster of a date and never quite got off on the right foot. Now, just before they graduate from NYADA, there’s a national outbreak and they’re both self-quarantined in a mutual friend’s apartment.

Read On AO3

On Tumblr: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

In the morning (which is really closer to noon because college), they decide to make breakfast together because according to Kurt, “It just makes logistical sense. Why use more dishes than necessary making two separate meals?”

Of course, Blaine readily agrees. Because logistics. And the best kind of logistics include getting to know Kurt better. The domesticity of it all is strangely… intimate, and Blaine can’t help but note how normal and natural it all feels, as if every morning was meant to start off this way and… Jesus, Sam would be having a field day if he could see in Blaine’s mind right now.

He’s whisking some pancake batter when he remembers his best friend’s promise of snooping. Yeah, he probably needs to do some damage control on that.

“You uh, didn’t happen to get a text from Sam last night, did you?” he asks, keeping his gaze fixed on the batter to try and downplay his interest in Kurt’s response.

Kurt shakes his head, shrugs nonchalantly, and cracks an egg into the pan. “No.” Then he suddenly snaps his head up at Blaine, a little frantic. “Why, did Mercedes text you?”

“Nope,” Blaine says, aware that his response is too quick and voice too high. “I was just curious, that’s all.” He lets out a little sigh of relief and keeps stirring until the muscles in his arm and wrist are exhausted. “How much longer do I have to keep mixing this?” he asks.

“You should be about done, just let me catch up with the eggs.” He gives a little smirk in Blaine’s direction. “Watch this,” he says, and with a flick of his wrist, flips the egg in the pan without even using a spatula.

“Woah!” Blaine goads, visibly impressed. He sets aside the bowl, pulse quickening a little before he asks, “Can you show me?”

Kurt lifts his head and Blaine is looking into his now vibrant blue eyes (they looked pale green in the dim lighting of the bedroom last night, Blaine remembers, irises wide pools of indigo). The paler boy’s eyebrows lift, just barely. The movement would have gone completely unnoticed if it were anyone else, but Blaine tends to notice everything about Kurt since last night.

Like how the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window makes his hair a crown of light, dark in the center and almost red at the edges, or how the way his neck curves seems like it could be the perfect place for Blaine to rest his own head, or even trail his lips down.

“Yeah, sure,” Kurt says with a soft smile. He tilts his head to the left, beckining Blaine to come to his side. “Here, take the handle,” Kurt says. Blaine does, and Kurt wraps his hand around Blaine’s, sliding closer and closer until their sides are pressed up against each other, warm and solid.

Blaine’s breath hitches in his suddenly dry throat.

“It’s all in the wrist,” Kurt says, voice low and suddenly quiet. With a quick flick, the egg flips smoothly. He tilts his chin down to look at the slightly shorter boy, but Blaine’s already looking up at him.

Heat crawls to Blaine’s face at being caught and he quickly turns away, clearing his throat, missing the way Kurt does the same.

“So, my young protégée,” Kurt says banteringly after a moment. “Do you think you're ready to do this on your own?”

“I was born ready.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, taking a step back while Blaine attempts the flip on his own. He hears Kurt stifle a laugh when the egg yolk explodes all over the pan.

“This is so sad…” Blaine begins sarcastically, staring with mock sadness at the mess. “Alexa, play Despacito.”

They both jolt in surprise when a robotic voice responds with, “Playing Despacito by Luis Fonsi from Spotify.”

The slow Spanish guitar intro comes in and Kurt sputters out a laugh, while Blaine practically squeals with delight at the ordeal.

“Oh my god, ha! I forgot they had one of those here,” Kurt manages through his cackling.

They bob their heads a long while the song plays, Kurt adding some sauteed mushrooms and tomatoes to the eggs while Blaine finishes up the pancakes. It must be on shuffle, because the next song that comes on is one Blaine loves, but certainly has different vibes than Despacito.

Smiles in the morning at me Apartment on the second story Strangers in a brand new city Both remembering last night Kitchen table and a bottle of wine The only thing on my mind is you

Blaine starts swaying his hips along to the music, feeling the pull of the strong beats in his chest. “Mmm,” he says, shutting his eyes. “Sara Bareilles is a gift. Her music sounds like waking up on a Sunday morning next to the person you love.”

“I love her, but I haven’t heard this one yet,” Kurt admits.

Blaine stacks the last of the pancakes on a plate, then turns to the other boy, extending his hand. “May I have this dance?” He asks with a playful glint in his eyes.

Kurt looks warily at the eggs in the pan. “Just a second, these will be ready in about two minutes.”

Blaine presses a few buttons on the stovetop. “There, timer is set. The rest of the song is only like two minutes anyways,” He wraps an arm around Kurt’s waist, feeling suddenly confident, and tugs him close. “Dance with me?”

“Oh… okay.”

The way the moonlight flickered in We were stars of some old classic film with

Miss Simone singing Pour some sugar in my bowl baby In the glow of the candlelight We danced all night On the rooftop thinking No one needs to know a thing But Miss Simone No one but Miss Simone

As they move along to the song, Kurt snakes his arms behind Blaine’s back, pulling them even closer.

Blaine reciprocates by leaning his head against Kurt’s cheek, right in the crook of his shoulder, and mumbling along to the words.

How she'd know What a heart sounds like In the glow of this candle on a rooftop in the moonlight

Someday when we're old and grey And sifting through our yesterdays We'll pull that memory from its sleeve Play that song of you and me and

“You have a really nice voice,” Kurt whispers.

“Thanks, I’ve always liked singing. This one time, I even got a whole degree in it.”

Kurt pulls his head back. “No way, me too!” He says teasingly.

They laugh for a second, before Blaine’s looking once again into Kurt’s magnetic gaze. He starts dipping his head in, closer and closer to Kurt as the song plays on.

Miss Simone singing Pour some sugar in my bowl baby In the glow of the candlelight We will dance all night On the rooftop thinking No one needs to know a thing But Miss Simone

The timer goes off just as the song winds down to a close, startling them both.

In his surprise, Blaine drops his hands from around Kurt’s waist and pulls away.

No one but Miss Simone

“That, uh, that would be the timer,” Blaine mumbles, still staring at Kurt.

Kurt nods in agreement, still looking back as well. “I guess we should serve ourselves breakfast.”

“I suppose we should…”

They finish making breakfast and eat at the table. They’re both hungry, so it’s quiet for a while, but Kurt notices Blaine stealing glances every now and then—a goofy smile on his face, but there’s something behind his eyes, like a question begging to be asked.

“What?” Kurt finally pries, unable to keep a laugh from bubbling up because… because he’s really loving the way he feels around Blaine right now, bright and giddy in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever.

“Nothing,” Blaine looks down at his eggs, still grinning. “I just… we have a lot in common, and as it turns out, we get along really well. I guess it just makes me wonder where we went wrong all those years ago.”

“Well for starters, you were fifteen minutes late,” Kurt says, but there’s nothing accusatory in his voice, only banter, like the way you would with an old friend.

Blaine scoffs, but Kurt can tell he's not really offended. “I was taking my final for Ms. July! You try telling that woman you’ve got somewhere else to be on her time. I might’ve been late, but at least I was alive. And I passed with flying colors.”

“Hmm, easy to believe, with those Despacito moves.”

“Laugh all you want, but you snapped your fingers at the waiters!” He contests. “The cheesecake is on its way, Kurt, it’s not going to come any faster!”

“Okay, fair,” Kurt points his fork at Blaine. “You’re not the only one who brought that to my attention and I’ve worked on it... but you ate your salad with a fork and knife. Who does that? It was a house salad, there wasn’t even any meat in it!”

“What was I supposed to do, put an entire cherry tomato in my mouth like some kind of barbarian!?”

Kurt has to wipe tears from his eyes and Blaine is silently shaking with laughter.

Blaine’s eyes are still gleaming when he says, “All that aside, I really, really liked you.”

Kurt stays silent for a second, unsure if he wants the answer to the question he’s been wondering for years. He decides that he does. “Then why did you leave? I went to the bathroom and when I came out, you were gone.”

A deep breath, and Kurt finally gets his answer. “I heard you on the phone that night.”

Oh…

“I won’t lie, Kurt, I had a crush on you for a long time.” Kurt feels his heart flutter at that revelation. “But everyone knew you and Adam were a thing, and I didn’t have a shot. He was older, leader of the Adam’s Apples, obviously.”

Kurt’s stomach twists guiltily, unsettled, because for god’s sake, he’s known Blaine—really known him—for five days and he’s already so much more than Adam. So much more caring (he asks questions when something is wrong with Kurt, and doesn’t just ignore him until he gets over it), so much funnier and willing to be a goofball in that way Adam never is because he doesn’t believe in “acting like a child” which usually translates to “having fun”.

But even without Adam as a marker, Blaine is out of this world amazing.

Kurt feels like an asshole for ever making him feel like he wasn’t.

Blaine sighs and continues. “So, when I heard you two were taking a break, I begged Sam to ask Mercedes to set us up.”

Kurt stays quiet, listening intently and trying to push down the guilt in his stomach.

“I um, thought things were going okay… and then you excused yourself for a really long time. I was worried something had happened, so I went to go check on you, and I heard you. Talking to him.”

Kurt remembers that conversation like it was yesterday, even stronger now, because if it hadn’t happened… would he and Blaine be something more than these weird frenemies?

“No,” he’d demanded that night on the restaurant patio. “We said we were taking a break, and you can’t just take that back because you heard I’m on a date. I let you go on plenty. That’s the point of this break. You were the one who wanted to explore your options.” He had used finger quotes even though he knew Adam I didn’t see him.

“I know, Kurt.” Adam said pathetically. “But I felt sick to my stomach as soon as I heard you were going out with someone else.”

“And you think it was a day in the park finding out from Sebastian of all people that you spent the night at his place? You know I can’t stand that guy! And he was so smug about it, too… I like this guy, Adam. I don’t know if I should be telling you that, but he’s nice, and sweet, and I didn’t seek him out just to spite you!”

He’d heard a groan on the other end of the line that at the time seemed romantic, but now Kurt realizes was just frustrated because Adam wasn’t getting his way. “I love you, Kurt.”

He gasped. That was the first time anyone besides his family had said those words to him. He feels like an idiot now for believing them.

“I… I love you, too,” Kurt responded. There was a long silence. “Okay. I’ll make up some excuse to get out of this and meet you at your place so we can talk.”

“I um…” Blaine finishes up, bringing Kurt back to the present. “It was just a huge bummer because I really liked you and I felt like you never really gave me a chance. So I went back inside, picked up my coat, and left.”

Kurt reaches across the table to grab Blaine’s hand. “I… I am so sorry, Blaine.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine shrugs dismissively. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

The last thing Kurt expects is for Blaine to actually smile at him—he certainly feels like it’s not a smile he deserves right now—and say, “Well, you’ve got until this quarantine is lifted to make it up to me.”

Part 6

#klaine #glee #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #wow look at me im writing!#cornelia street #sorry this chapter was so shitty ya girl is going through it

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purplesurveys · 5 years ago

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559

Have you today?

Looked in a mirror? Yeah, I was looking at myself while brushing my teeth earlier.

Watered a plant? I don’t think I’ve done that in the last few years.

Worn denim? Nope, I’m staying in today. And I kinda have to anyway, because it’s a holiday. Washed your hair? Yep, I took a long shower a few minutes ago. Been in pain? Yes, woke up to the same toothache that’s been bothering me for a few weeks now. The pain is on the down low at the moment, but yeah it was there when I woke up.

Had a nap? Not sure if it counts as a nap, but I decided to sleep in today and kept waking up a few times the whole morning until I finally woke up for real at around 11:30. Brushed your teeth? I already mentioned that I did this, yes. Kissed someone? I gave my dog some kisses today, but not a person. Used a cheese grater? I’ve eaten one meal today and it didn’t need any cheese. Eaten something sweet? Nope. Spoken to a stranger? Also no. Like I said, I’m staying in today. My introverted ass is tired from the last few weeks of working and socializing. Dropped something? I don’t remember doing so...I’ve only been in bed all day. Felt upset in some way? I’m feeling a little down, but I wouldn’t call myself upset. Drank coffee? I took two painkillers in one day yesterday, which is bad in itself; I wouldn’t want to mix coffee into my system.

Walked for more than thirty minutes? Nah, the furthest I’ve walked today is to the bathroom to take a shower. Signed up for something? That’s a no. I really should have picked a different day to fill this up, hahaha. Travelled in a car? I didn’t drive today and don’t plan to until like Tuesday, because that’s when I have to go back to school. Opened a can? Here’s a tiny secret: I don’t know how to open cans :c Thought about doing something crazy? Nah, I’m not feeling too crazy today. Listened to a new song? As a matter of fact I am. Spotify will sometimes play you a bunch of new songs it thinks you’d like based on the music you do listen to, and that’s the playlist I have on right now. Written in a notebook? I have not. Fed an animal? I gave my dog the rest of my lunch when I didn’t feel like eating anymore. Checked your emails? I had to answer a couple of them, yes. Told someone you love them? No, not yet. Made a phone call? Nope.

Have you in the last week?

Travelled on a bus? I haven’t been on a bus since my high school class went on a retreat to Baguio four years ago. Washed your face? Yep, yesterday. My face was feeling oily for some reason so I used some facial wash we had in the bathroom. Used a blender? I don’t think I’ve ever needed to use a blender before. Received a phone call? Yeah, Gab calls me most nights. Talked to someone you dislike? I had to talk to this girl who has a known attitude problem because we’re working on something together in a subject that we’re classmates in. She hasn’t shown me her rotten side just yet but I’ll be more than ready if she does. Consumed alcohol? Yeah, I went to two Halloween parties in the last week :/ Eaten pasta? I don’t think I have this week. Planned for an event? We don’t have any upcoming events so there’s nothing to plan for to begin with. Asked someone for a favour? Yep, I asked my classmate Gia to bring her VGA adapter because I needed one to do my report for history class and I don’t have an adapter of my own. She’s super nice and helped me out. Watched something funny? Yeah I mean I make it a point to watch at least one funny video a day so that my days aren’t completely shitty. Trimmed your nails? I have not, which explains why they’ve grown out so much lately. Browsed Reddit? I haven’t been browsing Reddit as much lately because I’ve been busy, but I did open the app at least once within the last week. Talked to yourself? I often talk to myself while driving alone. Purchased tickets for something? I did not this week. Felt like you were annoying someone? Always. Cleaned a toilet? Nope. Reminisced about the past? I mean, my friends and I always do in one way or another. Used headphones? No, my old headphones have been busted for yeeeeears now. Laughed with a friend? I spent time with several groups of friends this week, yeah. Which is why I’m completely socially exhausted now. I’m using the undas weekend to recharge. Cooked dinner and then didn't feel hungry? I don’t cook, so this is an automatic no. Written a list? It was a to-do list of stuff I had to accomplish before the undas break, if that counts. Played an instrument? Technically I did? I was sleeping over at Rita’s place last weekend and their guest room had a ukulele lying around, so before I fell asleep I do remember strumming the strings for a few minutes, even though I had completely no idea what I was doing. Felt jealous or envious? Always do. It’s my worst deadly sin. Ignored a text message on purpose? Always. Congratulated someone? I always make it a point to congratulate my friends for their leaps, whether big or small.

Have you in the last month?

Made a piece of art? Art is my weakest suit and it’s something I never even try to dabble in, because I know I would be horrible.

Rewatched one of your favourite tv shows or movies? I always rewatch Friends, and I did attempt to do a rewatch of Breaking Bad before El Camino was out on Netflix, but I didn’t get to finish it because uni had kept me very busy.

Called a plumber? There wasn’t any need to.

Been to a see a doctor? No. I definitely should go to the dentist, though. Finished a book? I haven’t been reading. Had a crush on someone? Of course.

Travelled on a train? Nooooooo I hate the public transport system in this country. Worn heels? I haven’t had to in the last month. I wish I owned more pairs to just wear casually to school though; it wouldn’t hurt looking like a bad bitch around the college hahahaha. Been to a friend's house? I’ve been to Gabie’s and Rita’s houses.

Shared a bed with someone? Yes, Gab has slept over a couple of times. Been to see a movie at the cinema? I think it’s been more than a month since my sister and I saw Hello, Love, Goodbye at the movie theater. Paid attention to celebrity drama? Meh, loosely. I know of the issues, but the drama lately hasn’t been too juicy. Felt anxious? AL. WAYS. Taken an elevator? On the days we were too lazy to take escalators. Given someone the cold shoulder? I don’t think I’ve done this recently. Purchased a new book/game/movie? I didn’t purchase it but I downloaded Mario Kart on my phone. Applied for a job? Nope. Used a printer? Yes, I’ve had to print papers and handouts for several classes. Had lunch in a park? We don’t have any parks, and anyway it’s usually too hot to eat outside. Gotten a manicure or pedicure? Not a fan of either, so no. Made an appointment? No. I did ask my mom to schedule a dentist appointment because my 21 year old kiddie ass is still too anxious to do it myself sjdklsdfdfhdkhskdjfsjffskfhkjsfh Had a blood test done? NO. Is this the one where they prick your finger? NO THANKS BYEEEEEE Suffered from a major bruise? It wasn’t major but I did briefly get a nasty bruise on my knee a few weeks ago. It was probably from PE but I never was sure where it came from. Researched a topic in-depth? I kinda have to; I’m working on my thesis for the next year or so.

Have you in the last year?

Been to the beach? Yes, several times. The most recent time was last August in Nasugbu, which was kinda bad timing on our end because we usually get bad typhoons in August haha. But it was the last week of summer and we wanted to do something fun before we had to go back to school, so off we went. Visited someone in the hospital? Thank goodness I haven’t had to. Played pinball? No, but I have played races on Waluigi Pinball courses on Mario Kart if that counts HAHAHAHA Travelled on a plane? Yes, several times. Worn a costume? I have. I went as Dora for Halloween this year. Been thrift shopping? Yesssssss. I got into it a few months ago when I saw a few stalls at a local mall selling really trendy tops for much cheaper. Thought about getting pregnant or got pregnant? Neither. Made a big life decision? I decided on my thesis topic, which is personally a pretty huge decision to make. Changed a lightbulb? Nope. I don’t know how to. Framed something and put it on your wall? I haven’t. My wall has stayed the same for like three years now. Been stargazing? Nah. Haven’t really had the time to. Made a new friend? New people who come into the org. Added to a collection? Obviously I’ve gathered more receipts from my dates with Gab within the year, but I haven’t gotten around to organizing any of them. They’re all just piled up in my wallet. Been to the dentist? No, but I have to UGH this toothache is out to kill me I swear. Broken up with someone? Nope. Held a baby? I don’t think so but I wish I’ve gotten to do it D: Created a budget? I mean I always carefully plan out my weekly allowance, so yeah. Confessed feelings for someone? I already did that three years ago. Had surgery of any kind? Nope. Quit a job? I have not. Been in a car accident? No, thank jeebus. Purchased something worth over a grand? Not yettttt, but I’m planning to for Christmas. Been on vacation at least 500km/300mi from home? Yes, when we went to Batanes and Albay. Applied for an academic course? Does enrolling for a semester count? Had your photo taken by a professional? No not yet, but very soon when I get my graduation photos taken.

#survey #surveys

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yoongingenious · 6 years ago

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A not-so-lonely Christmas

Member: Lee Jihoon (SVT)

Genre: Slice of life? Slightly comedic

Word count: 1047

A/N: Merry Christmas to the lovely taeiliee, from your secret santa! (I’m tagging @taeiliee-writings as well in case you couldn’t see this, I no longer understand how tumblr works anymore). Anyway I hope you enjoy reading it :)

It was the day before Christmas.

You woke up to the sound of rushed footsteps followed by the main door clicking shut. Still disoriented from sleep, you reached for your phone by the side table.

9.47am

God damned body clock, you cursed as you slowly dragged yourself away from the warmth of your spacious bed and make your way to the bathroom. You were thankful that you boss had graciously granted you a week off after successfully wrapping up the final phase of your project a couple of days back. Months of working overtime and late nights has left you physically and mentally exhausted, so you hoped that during this festive season you could catch up with your beauty sleep and reconnect with your friends.

A refreshing shower later, dressed in your comfiest wear, you stepped into the living room only to be greeted by pin drop silence and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You spotted the Christmas tree and boxes of decorations which miraculously made their way out of the storage room and now settled at the corner of the living room, waiting to be decorated. You noticed there was a post-it note attached onto one of the boxes.

Sorry I had to break our tradition :(

I’ll make it up to you next year!

Much love,

Eisa

Ah, that’s right. Minghao’s parents are visiting this year, you recalled. He had been extremely excited, since it wasn’t very often your housemate’s parents could make time to visit. There were numerous phone calls between them, making plans during their visit, and once in a while you would pop into their conversation to say hi as you took a breather from your tremendous workload. The ruckus you heard earlier, you belatedly realised, was probably Minghao rushing to the airport to pick up his parents.

The Christmas tradition you both referred to wasn’t anything particularly fancy. It was just Minghao setting up the decorations all over the apartment while you had full control of the kitchen, whipping up batch after batch of your mouth watering cookies. When Minghao had first told you he would be away, your boyfriend was supposed to take over Minghao’s role, but after catching him sleeping with another woman (again) a couple of weeks back, you decided that it would be the last time such nonsense will happen and kicked him out of the apartment for good. And almost everyone else had their own plans this festive season, so here you were, about to spend Christmas alone this year.

Oh well, it’s better than spending money or energy or time on a cheating ass boyfriend, you mused as you reached for your phone and logged into Spotify. You picked out one of the many Christmas playlists, letting the festive music fill the room at full blast and grabbed yourself a cup of coffee as you mulled over your plans for the day. You absolutely refused to let the tradition slide this year, but it was almost impossible for you alone to complete both decorating and baking before midnight.

Should you work on the decorations first? Or the cookies first?

As you pondered, your phone suddenly buzzed, signalling an incoming message. Peering over to check its contents, you smiled, instantly found the solution to your dilemma.

Looks like we have it all figured out. With deft fingers, you quickly replied the message, grabbed your apron and began your magic.

The smell of sugar and freshly baked cookies permeated the apartment as evening approaches. Which was unsurprising, since you had already make 5 batches of cookies since morning. You were determined to deplete your stock of ingredients, and judging from what you had left, there was just about enough to make about 2 more batches of cookies. You hummed along to the music as you carefully began icing some of the cookies, completely unaware of the time.

“Make my wish come true, baby all i want for Christmas -”

“Is y-WHOA!“

An unexpected male voice in the apartment caught you by surprise that you hurled your piping bag towards the general direction of your intruder. Luckily though, you later thanked the gods, the piping bag missed him and landed on the floor with a splat as you registered his presence.

Jihoon.

“Yah, the doorbell exists for a reason you know,” you huffed in lieu of a greeting as you grabbed a cloth to clean up the mess.

“Which I did use, but someone was blasting Christmas songs and too busy baking cookies to notice, so I decided to help myself in.” he smirked, producing a set of keys which you believed belonged to your housemate.

God damn Eisa.

“Plus I did say I would arrive around dinner time, it's your fault for not keeping up,” he added, as you watched him set the keys and some takeout boxes on the coffee table in the living room. It was only then you realised that indeed, it’s almost time for dinner, but you were still not done with the cookies. And the decorations are still not up, you inwardly groaned. He noticed it as well, and being the annoying best friend he was, he purposefully commented, “Also it’s not beginning to look like Christmas yet out here!”

“Well if you help me out with the decorations, I'll bake you some chocolate chip cookies for you to bring home later,” giving him a meaningful look as he followed you into the kitchen. He was considering it, you could see, but wasn’t completely won over yet.

“With extra chocolate chips,” you bargained.

And then he quickly made his way to the boxes.

Y/N 1, Jihoon 0.

It was way past dinner time by the time you and Jihoon were done, but you were happy with the outcome. Jihoon did an amazing job with the decorations (much to your surprise) and you achieved your quota of cookies this year. The only thing left now, you sighed in relief, is to sit back, relax, and have dinner while enjoying a marathon of Home Alo-

“Let's marathon Marvel movies this year,” Jihoon joked as he reached for the remote control.

“Yah, Lee Jihoon don't you dare!!!”

And that was how in the end, another year of not-so-alone Christmas celebrations came by.

#lee jihoon #woozi #svt fanfic #svt scenarios #woozi fanfic #woozi scenarios #seventeen #seventeen x reader #woozi x reader #svtsecretsanta

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ambitionsource · 6 years ago

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AMBITION Season 1 ♫ “Black, The Color of Techies Scorned...” [ 1.07 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows)

YOU SAY YOU WANT A REVOLUTION – Fed up with their treatment, the techies fight back… by doing absolutely nothing. Attempts to mediate go sour when Farkle and Isadora can’t relinquish control. Riley makes an effort to break the strike, but it may be her who gets broken instead.

50 Minutes (10K words) || No warnings apply.

[ ← Stripped ] [ S1 Synopsis ] [ These Boots Aren’t Made For Dancing → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

With acoustic week concluded and the performers back in full intensity mode, the techies find themselves hard-pressed to keep up with their demands. Over a buzzy, intense acapella, the sophomore performers throw every task imaginable at them with limited patience and even more limited gratitude.

DAVE WILLIAMS is running back and forth backstage with NATE MARTINEZ and DYLAN ORLANDO, attempting to play runner and keep up with everyone’s needs. Dave makes a pointed effort to avoid going near the curtains. JADE BEAMON is in another heated discussion with MAYA HART, CHAI FRESCO, and DARBY WINTERS – that is to say, they’re heated and full of opinions and she’s just trying not to get overwhelmed and start crying.

ISADORA DE LA CRUZ is marching around the stage, trying to get ZAY BABINEAUX or CHARLIE GARDNER to pay attention to her and get the performers to cool it, but they’ve got their own projects to focus on and aren’t very receptive. JEFF MONROE is jogging along to keep up with her, nearly getting clocked in the face by her clipboard when she tosses her arms out in frustration.

FARKLE MINKUS doesn’t help matters.

Isadora: Does anyone around here have a damn shred of decorum?

Farkle: Wow, poor little director. Is this really too overwhelming? Doing the basic expectations of your job?

Isadora: Don’t patronize me, Minkus, you don’t want to see what this “little” director is capable of.

It’s not a very threatening statement in theory, but the way Isadora delivers it gets the point across. Farkle isn’t deterred, but he’s smart enough to back off for now while he’s still ahead.

While they’re running themselves thin, RILEY MATTHEWS watches from the sidelines. She discusses stepping in to help with NIGEL CHEY and YINDRA AMINO, considering they are the three performers with the most technical experience. Riley points out that Lucas was supposed to be back by now. It’s Tuesday, and he was supposed to be back on Monday, but for whatever reason he’s still nowhere to be found.

Yindra claims he’s probably just blowing it off, and WYATT LIVINGSTON, back from his own suspension and clearly not over the bad blood, asks why they should give a shit anyway. He can stay gone for all he cares. Riley holds her tongue as he stalks back into the shadows of backstage, before jogging out to join Isadora.

When she asks if she’s okay Isadora doesn’t even have the bandwidth for a response, and when she asks where exactly Lucas is she’s like “you tell me!” The whole sequence is chaos, and it serves to prove just how hard the techies work on a day-to-day basis and how quickly expectations can pile up on them. The tension doesn’t come to an end until SHAWN HUNTER and ANGELA MOORE call time and dismiss them for lunch, all of the air immediately coming out of the balloon. As the performers disperse, the techies are left dazed and exhausted center stage, sort of at a loss for what to do.

The moment they stop, the whole machine stops running…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Riley steps out with Charlie and Zay, the three of them commentating on how intense it’s gotten in there. Not just content wise, but between everyone. Kind of almost feels like there’s no room to breathe. Riley says it’s funny they say that as if it’s not always like that.

Zay: [ with a blithe shrug ] Welcome to Adams.

EXT. AAA - DAY

Suffice to say, we can tell there’s a big storm coming. The winds of change are imminent, and from the way a familiar pair of big black boots are stomping up the steps towards the school, it may very well be en route in the form of a very grumpy and very sarcastic hurricane.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

The boots continue to make their trek through the halls, squeaking against the pristine floors of AAA and leaving dust in their wake. Over the visuals, the techies discuss how exhausted they are and how they don’t know how they’re going to keep up the rest of the year like this. There’s just no way. Especially not without their most aggressive teammate.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Thus, when LUCAS FRIAR walks through the house doors of the auditorium at the late lunch hour and finds his usual crew crashed in the back seats, he is immediately accosted by Dave who tackles him with a bear hug.

Dave: Thank God you’re back, we’re dying!

Lucas takes the hit, allowing Dave to hold onto him like a life preserver. His expression conveys how weird this display of affection is for him, and when he locks eyes with the rest of them over Dave’s shoulder the message is clear – what the fuck?

Baby, let the games begin.

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The techies have resettled on the stage, standing and sitting around in a semi-circle as they relay how hellish the last week and a half have been. They don’t think it’s just because he was gone either – the performers treatment towards them is just rotting more and more with time because they’re not learning any differently.

Lucas paces as ASHER GARCIA explains the last day and a half in particular, shaking his head at how bad things have gotten in his absence. Asher lays it out point blank – no one respects them, no one listens to them, and no one really cares about what they do. And that’s frustrating, because as Isadora points out, if they weren’t there the entire production would fall apart.

It’s that statement that seems to strike something in Lucas. He hesitates, thinking for a moment. Yes, things would fall apart if they were to stop showing up the way they always do… the wheels in his head are turning…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Thnks Fr Th Mmrs” as performed by Fall Out Boy || Performed by AAA Sophomore Techies

Asher syncs with his brain wave first, gleaning some of that inherent rebellious energy and launching into the opening verse of the classic angry rock anthem. Dylan joins in at the end of the phrase, leaning over Asher’s shoulder and bumping him playfully.

Lucas doesn’t sing – because, come on now – but he doesn’t discourage them either, raising an eyebrow and smirking as he continues to pace. Still clearly brewing with ideas. As the other techies start to get on board and get the vibe of what might be going on, the tension in the music builds. Oh, yes, Lucas is back, and the world is never going to be the same…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Thus, the techies burst through the stage doors and into the school, belting out the chorus with a true power that only comes from not giving a fuck anymore. They’re done, they’ve had it, and they’re not taking anymore bullshit. It’s a rare sight to see the techies doing any sort of group effort that remotely resembles performing, even in such a loose arrangement, but gee is it fun.

Lucas and Isadora lead the charge through the halls. The group of them are a tornado, leaving chaos and shock in their wake. The choreography is simple but energetic, exactly the kind of thing you’d expect from a march of protest thrown together in a bout of restless, rebellious energy. Dave knocks a binder out of Wyatt’s hands. You get the idea.

Reaction shots of the performers watching them as they parade through the halls makes it very clear how unprecedented this is. Isadora takes the solo on the slightly slower bridge, before we bring it on home with a flourish.

So it’s settled. The techies are officially revolting.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

This, as expected, does not go over well from first glance. Lucas is back in Jack’s office once again, which the latter is clearly none too happy about.

Lucas, on the other hand, looks pretty pleased with himself. He looks a little too comfortable sitting in that chair opposite the principal’s desk, as if its his to own. He’s relaxed, slouched and outwardly agreeable and not the least bit worried.

Jack: It’s been an hour. You’ve been back for an hour, and yet you’re here across from me yet again. [ off Lucas’s shrug ] You realize you were supposed to come back… yesterday, right?

Lucas: Oh, yeah. But I was having such a good time having Dora nag me over missed homework and being ignored by my parents that I thought, you know, how about another day.

The sarcasm aside, Jack jumps to the subject at hand and questions what exactly Lucas thinks he’s doing getting all of his classmates riled up like this. Getting himself into trouble is one thing, but pulling everyone into such a scene?

Lucas: [ with a scoff ] As if the performers don’t make a scene out of everything every single day?

Jack tries to argue the point, but Lucas is on a roll. He states that this has been a long time coming, and they all know it. He’s no leader – he would never claim that – he’s simply the spark. It’s his friends’ anger running this engine, not him.

True as this may be, Jack is stuck between a rock and a hard place. Although he gets where Lucas is coming from, he can’t just openly condone a full on rebellion.

Lucas: So suspend me. You’ve done it once, you could do it again. But you know, I don’t think you will.

Jack: And why’s that?

Lucas: Because you and I both know that we’re in the right here. No one cares about the technical students working their asses off, and we’re sick of it. It’s just like academics, constantly taking the back seat. Only now, we’re saying not anymore.

Jack really is running out of arguments. And it’s clear from how impassioned Lucas is that he’s certainly not putting down the sword any time soon. The only thing worse than a rebel without a cause is a rebel with one.

Lucas: This is how all great rebellions begin, Principal Hunter, sir. I think you’ll want to be on the right side of triple A history. [ Rising to stand. ] It’s like they say, you know. “If we burn, you burn with us.” That’s classic literature, right?

Jack, deadpan: The Hunger Games.

Lucas: Same difference.

Lucas turns to go. Jack gives him a look, scoffing.

Jack: I didn’t dismiss you!

Lucas, already out the door: [ with an offhand wave ] We’ll see each other soon enough, I’m sure.

Jack sighs, rubbing his temples. He glances towards the door where Lucas left, wondering how much trouble this week is going to cause. But also wondering, a little bit, if maybe his most difficult student is on to something. As the orchestration of “Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)” floats in…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)” as performed by Hamilton Original Broadway Cast || Instrumental

Meanwhile, rehearsal without the techies is, of course, much harder than the performers ever realized. They’re attempting to practice the choreography for “Yorktown,” which Zay has been fighting for them to do for weeks and finally succeeded in getting into the syllabus. But there’s no good lighting, and they’re all just in their usual workout clothes because no one has presented costume ideas. They’re playing the music off of someone’s phone because they don’t know how to work the overhead speakers and no one has been in communication with the orchestra students.

Naturally, the performers are very frustrated with this state of affairs. After unsuccessfully running through the number and ending with Farkle running into Maya and nearly knocking half of them over, Zay snaps at them to get it right. Farkle claims he couldn’t hear the beat because their current sound system is garbage. Impatiently, all of them turn their attention to the audience.

The techies are sprawled out leisurely in the front and center section of seats, well within plain view but making no efforts to do… anything. Isadora is sketching storyboards for a short film. Lucas has his feet up on the back of the row in front of him, arms stretched behind his head.

Zay: Hey, techies, pardonne-moi. [ off their amused expressions ] Yeah, hi. Could you all get up here and maybe, I don’t know… do your jobs?

Lucas: I don’t know… I don’t really feel like it.

Maya: Who the hell let you back in here? Honestly.

This sparks a group-wide argument, both sides of the feud stepping up and launching into complaints about the other half. Choice words are thrown in either direction, but it’s also a little bit funny.

Dylan: You don’t even know our names!

Farkle: Sure I do. [ pointing to Asher ] Thing 1. [ pointing to Dylan ] Thing 2. [ pointing to Lucas, with vitriol ] Jackass –

The snaps continue until Shawn and Angela come to break them up, sending them to separate work spaces until the end of the day. The techies don’t seem miffed at all by this change of pace, but the performers are ticked. Riley watches all of them disperse, eyeing the new tension and bristling with the urge to make it right…

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Which she states the minute she’s in ERIC MATTHEWS’ office after school. She tries to get the read on what’s going on from him while expressing her own perspective, all while trying not to be too openly clear on what may be motivating her. Sure, she wants the angst at school to cease for once, but she’s also still reeling with the news of her parents and desperately needs to fix something. To put something back in the order the way it’s supposed to be.

Eric states that according to Jack, this problem isn’t going to just go away. It’s going to take both sides coming to the table to make this nonsense come to an end, a proposition that feels downright impossible. Riley though is like, okay, workable. Off Eric’s surprised reaction, she hastily begins throwing out her reasoning. Speaking it into existence, as if that will guarantee it to be true.

Riley: Really, I think I can make it happen. At least getting everyone to the table. I’m good friends with Isa now, and Lucas and I…

[ She’s not sure how exactly to describe the two of them. She hesitates, searching for the words. ]

Riley: We dabble. In one another. Now and then.

Eric: [ confused and a little bit wary ] And that means…?

[ A beat. Riley realizes the odd ways her phrasing could be construed. ]

Riley: Never mind! Never mind, I don’t know what I’m saying. But the point is, I can fix it. Let me fix it.

Still seems like a long shot, but Eric isn’t going to turn down assistance. He grants her the best of luck, willing her to do whatever she thinks needs to be done. Riley exhales, brimming with confidence that only a new found purpose can bring.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Only this task is going to be much easier said than done. As Riley tries to go and have a neutral chat with the techies the next morning, she finds herself completely barred from their usual hangout in the back of the auditorium. They’re hidden away in the booth, and Dylan and Dave are blocking the stairs like the royal guard.

The two of them explain that there has been an embargo placed on all techie and performer relations. No communication allowed. Riley points out that that seems somewhat counterintuitive to negotiations, but Dave and Dylan are adamant.

Riley: But I’m your friend?

Dave: NO EXCEPTIONS!

Perhaps this operation will be a little more complicated than anticipated.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Farkle is back in his worst form, demonstrating his obsessive and diva-like tendencies in an argument with Angela. He laments how the techies clearly aren’t doing their one job, and it’s totally screwing up his world order. Can’t they do something about this? There has to be something. Like threat of expulsion. Or corporal punishment.

It’s evident that Farkle is certainly going to be the most difficult performer to convince that techies like… deserve rights. Angela claims that she understands his frustration, especially given current circumstances. But she is not the person he should be negotiating with, and has no power over what the technical students do or don’t do.

Farkle makes a snide comment about how she likely has some pull with Shawn considering how that has developed over the last few months, but he makes a quick escape before Angela can berate him on it. Despite the rude nature of the statement, he does have a point. Perhaps there is more Angela could be doing…

INT. AAA - CORY’S CLASSROOM - DAY

Riley visits Cory during lunch, as the cafeteria is way too tense to enjoy a meal in right now. As she pulls up a chair and settles in across from him at his desk, she can’t help but notice what he’s reading through as he eats. Divorce papers.

It’s chilling to see them in actuality, right in front of her. She probes the question of whether or not this is really happening, to which Cory is like “I’m afraid so.” He kind of talks to her about how sometimes things just don’t work out no matter how badly you want them to – also attempting to give a pep talk to himself – but Riles doesn’t get the intended message.

No, she’s in repair mode at the moment, so all she can glean from the conversation is that she needs to work even harder to make things run right. She needs to dig her heels in and fight until everything is back in order and back in control, and all of that is on her shoulders. Riles… take a nap, honey.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

AAA Confessions is back for more, featuring a post about Lucas for the first time. It essentially gripes over how bullshit it is that Lucas can get away with so much and still continue to come back and do absolutely nothing, before going on a very unkind tangent about how pathetic he is. It’s clearly submitted by Wyatt who has his axe to grind, but it’s harsher than anything the AAAC has ever posted before so it’s not aiding the tension at all.

The techies are examining the post over lunch in the auditorium, nervous about how Lucas is going to react to it. But when he descends from the booth and they show it to him, he doesn’t even blink. Outwardly, he’s cool as a cucumber. He claims he doesn’t care.

Dylan: Are you sure, man? I mean, this is like… brutal.

Lucas: Believe me, when I care about something, you’ll know.

Not sure what the hell that is supposed to mean, but Dave pushes past it anyway. He comments that their revolt is clearly going well, because the performers are miffed. The others agree, but Lucas doesn’t seem satisfied. He argues that they’re going to need to kick it up a notch if they actually want this movement to get any traction.

Isadora, smart as she is, suggests that they give the performers a taste of their own medicine. When Lucas prompts her to elaborate, she simply states that part of the reason it’s so easy for them to ignore their hard work is because they’ve never had a pinch of what it’s like to be on the other side of the apathy. Now this, this sounds interesting…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

And thus, the techies do exactly that. At the next rehearsal for “Yorktown,” the performers struggle to work their way through another fumbling rendition. In the midst of the number, while they’re all crashed in the seats, Lucas and Isadora exchange a nod before getting up and gesturing for the others to do so as well. It’s a technician walk-out.

Farkle is the first to notice, immediately being torn from the rehearsal and focusing on them instead. He marches to the front of the stage, demanding where the hell they think they’re going.

The techies stop in the middle of the aisle, turning around and feigning surprise.

Lucas: Who, us?

Maya: Yes, you. What the hell are you doing?

Isadora: Oh, well, we were just leaving. Actually.

Charlie: [ stunned ] Leaving? You can’t do that. They can’t do that, right?

Lucas: Oh, it’s so funny, because I think we are. I mean, my legs are working, at least.

Isadora: Yeah, you all clearly don’t need us. So I think we have better things we could be doing with our time.

They continue to head towards the exit. Angela watches them go, getting the sense that this problem is only going to get worse. Farkle snaps, obviously stressed at this turn of events.

Farkle: You can’t ditch us! Who is going to put all this shit together?

Isadora: Think you can handle it. It is just one job, after all.

Zay: But we don’t know how –

Dave: Sucks for you, huh?

The techies laugh, parading out of the auditorium with Lucas leading the march. The performers are clearly pissed. Riley watches them exit, shell-shocked and already grappling with how she’s going to fix this new development.

INT. AAA - SHAWN’S OFFICE - DAY

Angela enters Shawn’s office in a flurry, immediately launching into an impassioned explanation as to how this current state of affairs is not good for any of them and they must work together to find a solution on how to fix it. Shawn, to her relief, is completely on board, gesturing for her to take the chair across from him. She sighs, relaxing and settling in. This may be easier than she thought.

Only not quite so. Because while Angela was expecting him to just go along with her and get things to go back to the way they were, Shawn believed that Angela came to brainstorm how to improve the situation and meet in the middle. Shawn is on the side of his students, here, and isn’t just going throw them back under the bus.

The discussion quickly spirals into an argument, both of them clearly operating on behalf of their own students. It brews up some old resentment between the two of them that remains untreated based on how they view one another’s students – and in theory, one another – making them question if rekindling their relationship is actually the best idea. What are they even doing? Are they destined to fall right back into the same traps all over again?

The conversation deflates from the anger, but ends on uncertain terms. And no progress is made in the negotiations for either side. The two of them agree that in this instance, they might need a neutral outside party to step in and help mediate.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

So Shawn and Angela go straight to Eric. They lay out the situation, which of course he already knows, and ask for him to step in and do some peer counseling. Eric heartily agrees, but considering the scale of this issue, it’s going to take more than just the sit-down-and-chat approach. No, they’re going to need to get creative to solve this problem.

Luckily, he has just the technique.

EXT. AAA - REAR PARKING LOT - DAY

Eric hands a loaded water balloon to Zay, who stares down at it and then gives him a look.

Zay: Paintball?

Eric: Not paintball. Paint balloon.

As we ease out, the scale of the event becomes clear – all of the students have changed into plain clothes, and are wearing pseudo tactical vests as if they’re playing paintball. Only they’re using balloons filled with paint instead of guns, because this is America and even the thought of gun paraphernalia on school property… bad. But balloons! Very fun.

The students are standing on opposite sides of the stretch of parking lot, old set pieces and cardboard having been set up as obstacles and coverage. To start, they’ve been mixed into groups at random rather than along techie / performer lines. As Eric explains it, the goal is for them to engage in a competitive activity that will encourage them to work together towards a common goal with people they don’t normally work with, and get out their aggression in a safe and controlled fashion.

The rules are simple – the team to survive with the least paint-covered member once everyone else has been hit is the victor.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Come Out and Play (Keep ‘Em Separated)” as performed by The Offspring || Performed by Zay Babineaux & Charlie Gardner

Zay and Charlie perform this grungy track while working together to survive the war, serving to underscore the duration of the sequence. They fist bump to kick off the song, before the paint balloon battle begins.

Although the intent behind the mission is good, the concept doesn’t execute well if the players aren’t fully on board. Despite being given distinct teams, the war quickly falls back into party lines, the performers ganging up on the techies while the techies fight to hold their own. They’re heavily outnumbered, but they’re angry and ready to fight back. Let the real games begin!

Students on both sides get lobbed with paint, making for some fun and colorful slow-motion shots. Maya tries to protect her hair as she avoids blows, but one splatters her right across the face anyway. Farkle gets cornered by techies and gets hit with a barrage of paint, totally smothering him in neon pinks, yellows, and blues. Poor, poor little rich boy.

Zay and Charlie actually work impressively well together as a tactical team. They move back-to-back, cover one another, and make calls just through nods or vague gestures. They’re the key offensive force on the performer side, basically getting a hit in on every single techie throughout and making their win seem inevitable.

Considering the numbers game, the techies are getting throttled. Isadora, already covered in paint but not out of the war, takes out her rage by throwing paint at as many passing performers as she can possibly manage with a war cry that would make Athena herself proud.

The one factor they have going for them is Lucas. Dave and Asher basically act as human shields for him, allowing him to navigate the field and get hits in on anyone who Isadora didn’t already pummel with paint. There’s some wonderfully dramatic slow-motion shots of Dylan leaping into the air in front of Lucas to take a paint balloon straight to the chest… oh, the war-torn drama…

So while the performers have the sheer numbers, it’s clear that the technicians have a greater understanding of how they operate as a team. So they may just take this victory in an upset yet.

The factor keeping the performers going is Riley. She’s not particularly good at the paint throwing, but she’s an expert at dodging and just trying to stay out of trouble, mostly because she’s scared of getting hit. So it essentially whittles down to her and Lucas being the only two left dry and paint-free, meaning any one hit could toss the victory in one team’s favor.

As the battle reaches its climax, it comes down to one moment between Riley and Lucas. They run into one another at the center of the lot, the paint carnage all around them in a wonderful, grisly display of color. Lucas is loaded with two balloons, and Riley has none to defend herself with. They lock eyes, Riley’s wide and uncertain.

For all intents and purposes, this seems like the endgame. In a normal situation, in the old way of the world, Lucas wouldn’t hesitate. But it’s Riley, and she’s been changing the world since she showed up at AAA. So, for whatever reason, he does.

All it takes is that fleeting second of hesitation to flip the stakes. The tension between Riley and Lucas is shattered as he gets hit on both sides, one balloon landing on his torso and the other getting him in the face and splattering blue paint all over him. A final kill maneuver, executed expertly by Zay and Charlie from both sides.

And so the techies lose the battle. The performers erupt into cheers, patting one another on the back and touting their victory. The techies, frustrated and upset, glower. Dylan pulls Asher to his side, trying to get the paint out of his hair. Zay yanks Charlie into a victory hug, and Charlie just about has an aneurysm.

Lucas blinks, reaching up to wipe the paint from his eyes. Riley is mortified, starting to stammer out breathless apologies in utter horror. She reaches forward in an effort to wipe paint from his face… only Maya pulls her back and into celebrating with the other performers.

In an unexpected outburst, Jade is the first to snap on behalf of the techies. Considering her usually mousy and shy demeanor, this is relatively shocking.

Jade: This isn’t fair! We weren’t even supposed to be playing along these teams, but they just did whatever they wanted like they always do and won yet again.

Dave: This is bullshit!

Maya: Oh, come on, guys. You don’t have to be a sore loser.

Isadora: Oh, you wanna be sore? I’ll give you sore –

Dylan and Asher dart forward to hold Isadora back and keep this from escalating into a full-on brawl. Angela and Shawn sense the impending eruption and basically send each team somewhere different to clean up, the techies staying outside while the performers retreat to the dressing rooms.

They turn to Eric, who is clearly bummed his technique didn’t work. But hey, he tried his best. He offers them a plaintive shrug. Back to square one…

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

The girls revel in their victory as they clean paint off of themselves, laughing about how badly they creamed the techies and how nice it felt to finally just let loose on them. Riley doesn’t find the conversation amusing, and actually speaks up against the rhetoric. She claims that they just made everything worse, so congratulations. She hopes they’re really pleased with themselves.

But now, she has to clean up their mess. She storms out, still covered in paint. The others watch her go, sort of laughing awkwardly at the tirade but with the lingering sense of doubt that maybe she isn’t wrong.

INT. AAA - BACK ENTRANCE - DAY

Riley heads towards the back parking lot to find Lucas and Isadora, hoping for another chance to talk things through with them without all the colorful warfare. She spots the techies just outside the building cleaning up, starting to head towards the doors to join them but hesitating when she gets a better look.

Dylan is using the heavy duty hose to clean off Dave and Asher, but Riley is focused on Lucas and Isadora. They’re seated on the benches closer to the doors, and Isadora is painstakingly working to wipe the paint off of Lucas’s face.

It could be nothing, just pals being pals, but after everything Riley has observed between the two of them and how Isadora is willingly touching his face to help him clean up she’s like… okay. I’m clearly inserting myself in something I shouldn’t be. I don’t belong out there. What am I even doing? It’s nothing, all this is nothing…

But it doesn’t feel like nothing. And emotions are high because tensions are high, so the revelation sort of feels like the end of the world.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Cry And You Cry Alone” as performed by Lesley Gore || Performed by Riley Matthews

As Riley saunters away from them and back down the hall, she dejectedly sings the 50s crooner while trying to keep her emotions in check and not overreact. But she’s a theater kid, and being melodramatic is in her bones.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

She makes her way through the halls, lamenting how foolish she was to let herself get close to the techies, especially Lucas, when he’s evidently so much trouble – for everyone else and for her heart. The whole thing is even more endearing and ridiculous considering she’s still paint-splattered.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

As the song progresses and the other sophomore performers take over the chorus, it’s a brand new day. Everyone is clean but not in much better spirits. Riley sits on the edge of the stage and watches forlornly as Isadora and Lucas work together to scheme with the techies. So close, and yet so far away.

Rounding out the final chorus, Riley falls back onto the stage and stares up at the catwalk and lights above her, inviting the world to laugh with her rather than cry alone as the song states. Oh, Riles, you wonderful little dramatic hooligan.

Although Shawn has managed to wrangle the tech students back into the theater for class, it’s not much of a better scenario than before. Now they’ve taken to heckling, making the divide between them far more pronounced than before. Given how cynical and grumpy they are on the daily, they make excellent hecklers.

Lucas: Boo, get off the stage!

Riley: [ whipping around, giving him a glare ]

Lucas: (:

Isadora makes a snide comment and Farkle is about ready to pop off, launching into a fit and starting to rattle off some not-so-nice things. Maya pulls him away and gets him to back off, redirecting his focus and trying to keep the whole situation from imploding. It’s a vivid indication of how Farkle reacts when he feels like he’s being unfairly persecuted and put under pressure… noted. Maya declares they’re taking five.

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

All the performers are assembled in the space, sans Nigel, Yindra, and Riley. While they embark on a potential quest of their own, the rest of them vent freely about how unfair this whole situation is and how overdramatic the techies are being. And they think they’re melodramatic, well, they’re certainly proving their own ability to be so.

Zay is done with the theatrics, weirdly irritated at the whole group of them. He snaps at all of them, stating everyone is being dramatic and it’s so stupid, because all they’re doing is wasting rehearsal time. And of course, it’s the one week where they’re doing a number he actually cares about. He storms out, leaving the room a little bit stunned.

Maya rouses them from the off beat, claiming that this is all part of the journey and they’re going to have to stick together if this drama is going to endure. They’re on the same team, and for once they need to band together and really act like it.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Team” as performed by Lorde || Performed by Maya Hart (feat. AAA Sophomore Performers)

Maya leads the group in a groovy and sharp rendition of the Lorde hit, making for a fun and low-intensity break from the tension of the episode as they dance around in the dressing room together. So, there!

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Dylan and Dave are still gatekeeping as Nigel and Yindra approach – the two performers outside of Riley who dabble in technical arts and thus have a good showing and rapport with them. They claim they have a “meeting,” to which the bodyguards exchange subtle eyebrow raises before backing up to let them through.

Nigel and Yindra exchange a look. Boy, the theatrics. Then, they make their way up the stairs towards the technician’s booth.

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

Lucas and Isadora have set up camp in the booth, using it as their base of operations. Isadora is pacing, Lucas seated in his usual rolling chair by the soundboard. Asher is operating as their secretary, taking notes as they throw out ideas. The others are seated further back into the space.

They cease their discussion as Yindra and Nigel enter, Lucas turning to greet them. They explain that, as medians between the two worlds, they have come to hear what exactly it would take for the techies to come to the table and start figuring out negotiations on how to fix this. It’s chaos, and it’s not doing good for any of them. Lucas starts off playing hard to get.

Lucas: Who said we were interested in ceasefire? I’m kind of enjoying a little bit of chaos. Spices things up. Don’t you think so?

Yindra: You are enjoying this way too much.

Nigel: Yeah, don’t let anybody ever tell you you’re not capable of being theatrical, Friar.

Lucas: (:

Isadora gets the conversation back on track, agreeing to meet with the performers and have a non-confrontational open dialogue – but only if they can get the most important (and demanding) performers to be present. Nigel and Yindra state this is a hefty challenge, but they’ll see what they can do. If it works out, Isadora states, they’ll send details on where and when.

INT. AAA - CAFETERIA - DAY

Yindra and Nigel share this new development with said most demanding performers at lunch. Charlie is all for it, but the actual two in questions – Maya and Farkle – aren’t sold. In fact, Farkle vehemently vetoes the idea. He claims they’re just toying around with them like business deals he’s seen his father have to negotiate, and he’s not taking orders from them.

Maya isn’t convinced either, but she’s also aware of how tired everyone is getting of the tension, herself included. She barters with Farkle that the two of them should just go to at least have the conversation, and they have the right to back out at any time. Farkle considers, but doesn’t give a definitive answer.

Nigel: Remind me when it was that I dropped out of high school and entered a courtroom drama? Because I don’t recall making that decision.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Riley has forfeited her lunch hour to take one last crack at getting her own negotiation in, finally able to catch Lucas alone. She follows him through the stage doors and onto the stage, pleading her own case and attempting to appeal to his softer side in an effort to call off the strike. She knows it exists, she’s seen it before, she just has to figure out how to elicit it from underneath all that anger.

He humors her as he makes his way down the stage and towards the back of the auditorium, tidying up small details as he goes. It’s clear that even with the current strike in progress, he’s is still instinctively protective of the place.

Riley opens by checking in with how he’s doing after the nasty confessions post about him. When he shrugs it off, she takes the topic opportunity to broach a slightly different subject.

Riley: Just out of curiosity… how, um… how often do you check the page?

Lucas: Never.

Riley: Oh! Oh, that’s great. You know, good for you. That’s good. I just, um, you know it’s said some… interesting things about me lately.

Lucas: Right.

Riley: And I just wanted to clarify that they aren’t, you know, true. The things said. About me. And what I may or may not be doing. Or who I may be – it’s false. It’s not true. All of it. False.

Lucas: … okay.

That awkward exchange aside, Riley plows onward in her mission to end the revolt. She tries to get Lucas to call it off, pointing out he is the one who definitely has the power to make it happen.

Riley: You’re their leader.

Lucas: You’re wrong. That’s Dora.

Riley, diplomatically: I am not one to ever dispute the notion that Isa is amazing, in many aspects. And she may be the face of the operation, but you, you’re the engine. You’re what motivates them.

Lucas hesitates, actually listening to what she has to say. Riley seizes this opportunity, trying to convey as genuinely and passionately as possible just exactly how important he is.

Riley: They look up to you, I mean, you’re the one they march for. They take comfort in you, you inspire them. And that’s certainly not nothing.

Lucas is moved by the speech, despite how good he is at concealing it. And although he acted as though he didn’t care, it does help to combat some of the negative feelings the confessions post instilled in him. Not to mention, Riley is so sincere, and gosh if she isn’t so damn cute… for a moment, it seems like he may be weakening…

But no. He’s not calling off the rebellion.

Lucas: I appreciate the sentiments. But I’m not ending the revolt.

Riley: But –

Lucas: This is our one chance to change things. For us and for all the techies that are going to come through these halls after us. I can’t just give that up. No great moment in history ever happened because the fighting party put up their hands and surrendered.

He steps up to walk past her towards the booth, hesitating on the step below her. Mirroring their stand-off in 1.02, only far softer this time around.

Lucas: I’m sorry, Riley. But I’m not throwing away our shot.

He leaves her there to stew in it, frustrated that she can’t seem fix yet another broken entity in her life. She waits until he’s gone behind the booth, huffing and jogging back down the stairs.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Another One Bites the Dust” as performed by Queen || Instrumental

EXT. AAA - BACK PARKING LOT - NIGHT

The same scene of the battle, the asphalt still splattered with paint residue and eerie in the glow of the street lamps. Maya and Farkle are there, dressed in their best “shady showdown” attire and anxiously peering out into the night. Riley and Charlie are also present. Farkle snaps that they’re late, to which Riley assures him that they’ll be there. She knows they’re not just going to blow this off.

And they do not. A few moments later Lucas and Isadora roll up with Dylan and Asher in tow, hopping out of Dylan’s jeep and making their way towards them. They are also dressed in their black leather best, but the whole situation is like… a little bit ridiculous. Like, it should be really intense and shady, but it’s just them all standing around in the empty school parking lot at 9PM.

Lucas and Isadora step to Farkle and Maya, sizing each other up and trying to figure out how this conversation is supposed to go down. Dylan and Asher mirror Charlie and Riley, hanging back as reinforcements only if needed.

Lucas: What, no Zay?

Charlie: I texted him. He just said… [ reading from his phone ] ‘white nonsense.’

Isadora: Tell him I said offended… but true.

The four of them discuss the problem and their terms, the techies explaining their desire for like… basic decency and a little respect, while the performers have arguments of their own to make. It’s clear from about the first minute in that this meeting of the minds likely isn’t going to go anywhere productive. They’re just too polarized.

While everyone expects Lucas to be the one to blow everything up, it’s actually Isadora who loses her cool and derails the negotiations. She provokes Farkle with snide remarks until he lashes back at her, totally disrupting the limited productivity of the meeting and threatening a full-on scrap if things go any further.

It’s a stalemate, and no negotiations will be made today. The revolution wages on. Riley decides she definitely needs to chat with Isadora, maybe even more so than Lucas.

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

Farkle is up late doing homework, still awake when STUART MINKUS comes home after a long day of work. From the way Farkle perks up when he enters and enthusiastically greets him, it’s clear how much he cares about the attention and approval of his father. In fact, there’s the distinct sense that part of the reason Farkle is so extra at all is because he’s desperate to get the focus of his very busy and very distracted corporate leader of a dad.

Stuart is happy to see him and settles down to chat with him for a moment, but he asks why on Earth he’s still awake. Farkle offhandedly claims that an unexpected meeting pushed back his homework time, and it was somewhat of a waste anyway. After a few brief words, Stuart starts to go but Farkle grasps at a way to keep his attention, asking him for advice.

His dad claims he won’t be much help with the performing stuff, but Farkle lies and claims it’s a… business issue. He then lays out the situation going on at school but in theoretical marketing terms, explaining it like a business negotiation gone awry rather than two sides of the performing arts world going to war. He asks his father how he would handle the situation.

When Stuart expresses that he would take the diplomatic approach and attempt to go to the table to get the best deal for all parties involved, Farkle seems apprehensive. Doesn’t that not end up with the best deal for him? Stuart goes on to explain his business philosophy about how you have placate all parties to get an effective machine running, but it just seems difficult for Farkle to grasp.

Stuart kisses the top of his head in a goodnight gesture, telling him he’s proud of him even though Farkle is sure he couldn’t say what for.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Control” as performed by Halsey || Performed by Farkle Minkus

Not satisfied with how that conversation turned out and not sure why he can’t seem to let go of his perception of the situation anyway, Farkle launches into a haunting and emotional rendition of “Control.” It’s one of the first clear expressions of his… questionable mental health, and displays part of what he’s constantly inadvertently taking out on the techies.

Interesting…

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack has called in Shawn and Angela to discuss how the techie and performer feud is progressing. It’s the end of the week, and he’d like to know what they think is the next necessary step. They claim that both of them are on board to make changes, but they’re worried about the mental ecosystem of some of their… touchier students. That’s what is causing the blockade, and they’re not sure how to navigate it.

As Jack reiterates, they need all parties to be willing to come together for this treatment to be at all effective. He states that they better do it fast, and whenever they’re ready he’ll be here and ready to mediate.

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

The drama continues, the male performers discussing how this whole drama has really lasted an entire week. NICK YOGI wonders if it’s ever going to stop, and Wyatt makes more bitchy commentary about how if they had just expelled Lucas like they should have ages ago, this never would’ve happened.

Zay continues to roll his eyes, fed up with all of the pettiness. He wishes they could just focus back on rehearsal. He excuses himself pointedly, Farkle hesitating before deciding to investigate and following him out.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Farkle traces Zay’s footsteps to the behind the curtain area of the back of the stage. Zay is practicing the routine by himself, clearly passionate about it even though it got totally derailed by the week’s events.

Understanding at least the notion of using rehearsal as an emotional escape, Farkle approaches Zay and tries to get him to talk about what his attitude is all about. He questions why he blew up at the rest of the performers the other day, to which Zay is like, you? Asking me about diva meltdowns? Please. Farkle admits his own proclivity for theatrics, but points out that Zay isn’t like that. In fact, he is usually looking at down at them from a high horse because of it.

Zay avoids the topic at first, before breaking somewhat and admitting that part of the reason he gets so irritated with Farkle and Maya’s behavior is because he feels like he can’t use the same sort of tactics. He’s trying to navigate these waters as best he can being a queer man of color, he’s got enough things that draw attention to him and make him different. He doesn’t need to put any more targets on his back by being demanding or overdramatic. The two of them, they can get away with that. He can’t when he’s just fighting for a shred of hard-earned respect in the first place. So even if he wants to throw a tantrum about how they’re finally doing a number he really cares about and no one is paying attention, he can’t. Not really.

Farkle had never considered this angle before. It gives him a totally new perspective on Zay, and in some ways, the techie revolution as well.

INT. SVORSKI’S COFFEE - DAY

Riley and Isadora are seated in the window table at the local coffee shop, having found neutral ground to tread to be able to talk freely with one another. Riley is grateful that Isadora showed up at all, but it takes a bit of needling to get her conversing.

When Riley questions why Isadora got so heated at negotiations last night, Isadora is defensive at first. Who wouldn’t be, she claims. But when it’s clear that Riley’s intentions in the conversation are completely genuine, Isadora lets down her guard and opens up a bit.

She explains that she’s been fed up with the behavior of the performers for so long, and they’re always like this. Performers, that is. Look at her mother. The diva behavior, the carelessness, the neglect – all of them are like that.

Riley, softly: All of them?

Isadora: [ gazing at her, sheepish ] Maybe that’s a bit of a generalization…

Riley prods further, and Isadora gets to talking about her behavior the last couple of episodes. She admits that part of the reason she’s so sensitive to everything right now is because she’s still adjusting to having Lucas back at school. Last week was way harder than she let anyone know, and she’s still trying to get her world back in working order. The performer attitudes and demands didn’t help with that, certainly.

Considering her own world being in disarray, Riley can empathize. Isadora is word vomiting at this point, stumbling into a hasty explanation of why Lucas is so important to her.

Isadora: He’s not just my friend, he’s like… he’s my rock. Joining Adams last year was crazy and overwhelming, and he was there to help. To ground me. He makes sure I stay out of my head, that I don’t get too wrapped up in my thoughts. When he’s not here… I don’t even know how to explain it. He’s the most important person in my life, he’s pretty much my brother. I don’t think I’d survive at school if he left permanently.

It’s a lovely statement, and definitely illuminates many things about the relationship that Lucas and Isadora share. Their importance, but also, the nature of their relationship. Yes, Riley definitely catches the “he’s pretty much my brother” bit. Ah, if that doesn’t clear things up…

Isadora goes on to state that if anything, she’s ready for this embargo to end so that she can hang out with Riley at school again without having to go into hiding. Riley, touched, returns the sentiment with full fondness.

INT. AAA - SHAWN’S OFFICE - DAY

And perhaps, maybe that end is within sight. Isadora goes to Shawn and claims that she’s willing to come to the table if the other side is. That’s one difficult domino down…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)” as performed by Hamilton Original Broadway Cast || Performed by AAA Sophomores

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM

Isadora takes this initiative and walks it straight into “Yorktown,” launching one of the most elaborate concept numbers in the series to date. While half of the performance is the performers doing their routine (in plain leotards, no lighting, etc.), the other half is the techies “prepping for the final battle” in a sense. Isadora, thusly, takes most of the Hamilton bits.

[ Lyrics specific to characters – follow along here! ]

The number opens with Yindra coming to meet with Isadora and Lucas, operating as the Lafayette of the trio. She and Isadora declare the phrase “techies, we get the job done,” before she salutes them as the final battle unfolds. As the chorus begins, the performers take the stage and kick off their routine.

Farkle takes one section of the verse, harping on the sentiments of imagining death so much it feels more like a memory and at least having friends now if he’s going down in war. Then Isadora takes back over, instructing the other techies as to how they should move in this dance going forward (“Rochambeau! You’ve got your orders now go man, go!”)

When we get to the Hercules Mulligan bit, our “spy on the inside” is Nigel! He takes the verse and rails it impressively. When he “gets knocked down and gets the fuck back up again,” Dylan and Dave jokingly knock him over before he break-dance jumps back upright. Iconic!

As the dance break ensues, each techie is choreographed into facing off with a major performer, their interaction sort of emulating what the nature of their dynamic is like. While Dylan and Asher each take either Maya or Zay, Jade takes Charlie which mostly means her dodging him while he does expertly choreographed high kicks.

Considering they’re not even exactly at odds, Lucas and Riley’s choreography mostly consists of them sort of dancing around each other – especially given that he doesn’t dance. No, the big maneuver for them comes at the end of the sequence, when Lucas finishes the “fight” by scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder. She’s totally taken by surprise, and if she wasn’t sure whether or not he had feelings for Isadora, well, now…

Speaking of Isadora, she and Farkle are perhaps the most aggressive of dance duets. They’re the ones with true beef to parse out, and that’s clear in the way they execute the choreography. As the sequence ends and everyone else is shuffled (or carried) off, the stage is left with just the two of them staring one another down. Sizing each other up, trying to determine if one or both of them are going to break this stalemate.

Farkle backs off first, not breaking eye contact but sauntering away towards the wings. Isadora watches him go, holding her ground as best she can.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Farkle enters the classroom, locking eyes with Angela and clearly there on business. She rises from her desk, nodding him in. He steps inside, closing the door behind him.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

While the techies await, “wondering if this really means freedom,” their queries are answered as Shawn and Angela emerge from Jack’s office. The entire sophomore class is waiting outside, eager to see how the negotiations have panned out. As they “see George Washington smile,” Shawn gives Isadora and the techies a subtle wink.

The techies watch as the performers begin to stagger away, the war truly having reached its conclusion. It almost feels unreal…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

As the marching drum comes in and “the world turned upside down,” each of the main performers steps forward onto the stage to finish the routine. Slowly, as the music rises again and we near the climax of the song, pieces of the tech start to come back into play – the lights come back up, Jeff happily operating them from the booth. Dave and Nate push set pieces into place, high-fiving one another as they pass behind the dancers.

From different corners of the stage, the techies revel in their victory. Jade, Isadora, Dylan & Asher, Lucas – all declaring with ecstatic joy that they won.

The world did, indeed, turn upside down!

INT. AAA - SHAWN’S OFFICE - DAY

With their sides of the school back in order and a whole new world order at play to explore, Shawn and Angela reconvene. They decide that yes, in spite of all the differences and challenges that are bound to await them, this relationship feels worth giving another shot.

They kiss, rounding out their journey back to one another. Can’t wait to see what happens next…

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

Farkle is alone in the dressing room, still attempting to get all the paint out of his hair from like two days ago. Maya and Zay enter and find him there, laughing at his lackluster attempts to rid himself of the battle scars before shifting into more serious conversation. They ask him if he was the one who pulled Angela into negotiations.

Farkle: Although it took every ounce of kinetic energy in me to force myself to do such a thing, yes. I put down my metaphorical sword and opted for the truce. Hope everyone is damn well pleased about it.

Zay, sarcastically: Oh, you’re so brave.

Quips aside, Zay genuinely compliments him for putting his ego aside rather than letting the urge to be melodramatic win once again. Maya seconds the notion, pointing out that they have no idea what this new world is going to bring. They’re going to really have to stick together as a diva front united if they’re going to survive the change.

Farkle, starting to warm up to the idea, agrees. Oh, these divas… their friendship…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Lucas is alone in the auditorium, re-familiarizing himself with the terrain now that the dust has settled. He finishes striking the set from the Yorktown performance, hanging in the quiet for a moment and taking in the peace. It’s clear that he genuinely holds love for that musty auditorium, even if he hates everything else.

Riley enters through the dressing room stage doors, watching him fondly for a moment before stepping into the lights and interrupting his quiet. She commends him for a successfully led revolution. He brushes off the compliment, pointing out that she may have had more of a hand in its victory than she’s admitting.

Riley: Suppose it’s a good thing you didn’t listen to me when I begged for a ceasefire.

Lucas: Well, I don’t think you completely lacked the war-mongering spirit. From what I hear, you did a lot of negotiating on your end for the cause as well.

Riley: [ with a shrug ] No great moments in history happen because the fighting party put up their hands and surrendered… nor without help. Just goes to show that maybe you don’t have to do everything alone.

Lucas: … no, maybe not.

The sentiment hangs in the air between them. Lucas breaks the tension, clearing his throat and claiming that if she means to keep good on that offer, she can start by helping him clean up. She laughs, playing along and happily stepping up to finish the tidying.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Rumour Has It (Instrumental)” as performed by Adele || Instrumental

As if it’s the theme of the AAAC, the abrasive drums and ominous tones of “Rumour Has It” preclude our final scene.

INT. WYATT’S ROOM - NIGHT

We’re with Wyatt, holed up in his bedroom alone. He’s still looking pretty rough from his beatdown in 1.05, and while we’ve been able to ignore it while he’s in the background most of the episode, it’s hard to ignore the remnants of it up close. The emotional scars are still present too, as he’s clearly brooding with unaddressed anger.

He starts a direct message with the AAAC, essentially asking to be a part of their operations. He doesn’t want to change it or shake things up, he just wants a piece of the chaotic pie. So he’s clearly not the moderator of the thing, but he definitely wants to be a foot soldier.

The AAAC responds affirmatively, but first requires that he read their three rules of conduct. The last rule is, as it claims, the most important:

All submissions are to be posted unless otherwise expressed by the moderator. No edits or changes allowed. The page is equal opportunity, so that all voices can be heard.

No submissions are to be deleted after posting. If the sender is bold enough to say it in the first place, then they better be bold enough to handle the repercussions. Especially given that the posting is anonymous.

We don’t start things – we only state them. Our classmates say what they want to say, we are merely the messenger.

Once Wyatt agrees, he ventures the question we’re all wondering. “Who are you?” A text bubble pops up, indicating that the other side is typing a response.

In a quick series of cuts, shots of all of our main cast of suspects – Isadora, Farkle, Maya, Zay, Lucas, Charlie, Dylan, Asher, Yogi, Dave, Chai, Yindra, Jade, Sarah, Darby, etc. – show them on their phones at home or wherever they are. It could be any one of them typing the response in that moment.

Finally, the account responds.

“Welcome to AAA Confessions, Wyatt. Get to work.”

END OF EPISODE.

#S1 #episodes #107

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