#it means i can keep doing the makeup i’ve been doing because it suits my features !!!

[wishmemel]

GUESS WHO FIGURED OUT HER PERSONAL COLOUR?

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Meeting him (part I)

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

You can find the reader's origin story here.

Warnings: no proof reading, eat the rich baby kind of vibes, reader is uncomfortable at first, not impressed!reader, language, deep down Bruce is the kind of guy who likes to be bullied by a pretty girl

When your boss picked you to go to Bruce Wayne’s charity gala, your first thought had been: “Oh I’m going to be such a little nuisance!”.

It was only when you started to wonder how to dress, that you realised that the event was actually being a nuisance for you. You took so much time trying to decide what to put on, what kind of makeup and hairstyle to do. You knew appearances were important, and you didn’t want to be at your disadvantage in such a place.

And yet, even if you had put on your best dress, your best shoes and your favourite jewels that your grandma gave you right before her death, you felt… cheap.

You were clearly out of place and you knew that people were looking at you from the corner of their eyes. You were getting uncomfortable. But you went to Falcone’s events when you were a child and you knew one thing: when you are among vultures, you can show no weakness. So you tried to keep you back straight and to look like you were doing great. There was no way you would give the joy to all those rich assholes to make you run away. It was only fueling your hate against them. 

You had thought you were going to eat and drink well at this gala, but all this money disgusted you too much to actually enjoy yourself. You saw too many people dying from hunger in the streets to be able to bear any of this. 

You were looking around, taking mental notes of everything before you felt a presence behind you. You turned around and were greeted by a tall and broad man, wearing the nicest suit you ever witnessed. He gently smiled at you but you saw it didn’t fully reach his eyes. It was just a polite act. You instantly recognised the dark hair and the blue eyes. You hadn’t thought Bruce Wayne was that big though. 

It didn’t mean you were impressed. 

Not one bit. 

The man seemed to observe you with interest - probably because you weren’t all over him at the instant you saw him - before extending his hand for you to shake.

“Good evening, you must be Mrs L/N.” he kept smiling

“Indeed, Mr. Wayne. I guess it wasn’t very difficult to spot me in this crowd” you said as you shook his hand politely. 

“What do you mean?” he asked

“Oh don’t pretend, I know I’m not dressed as nicely as your usual guests.” you replied.

You perceive a little glitter of curiosity sparkling in his eyes. Bruce Wayne was probably not used to being talked to like that, especially from women. But you weren’t afraid or impressed by anyone. How could you when your past was full of dangerous people? Bruce Wayne seemed to think of a proper reply before deciding to be honest and he nodded his head.

“I’m grateful your newspaper agreed to send someone. I know you do not have a very good opinion of me, which I absolutely respect. I’ve read the paper you wrote about me last week, about the fact that my company took part in the destruction of the Amazonian forest and in child labour in poor countries. It was truly an impressive work of research and I’m thankful you saw it, wrote about it and published it. I had been too busy with different projects to realise any of this was happening. I would have appreciated it if you had let me know first hand though.” he told you to which you raised an eyebrow

“And? Did anything change?” you replied

“Indeed. I want to let you know that all of this stopped and that I’m doing everything I can do to repair the bad my company caused. It won’t happen again. I promise.” He said and you could tell he was sincere or at least trying to sound like he was.

“Good. At least you take responsibility. And if anything else happens again, I’ll be there to make sure you do know about it.” you hummed which cause the ghost of an amused smile to appear on Bruce’s face

“I don’t worry about it indeed.” he paused. “By the way, you write very well. I’m glad to be able to put a face on such… sharp and true words” he added, and you let him show how surprised you were

“People don’t usually like my sharp words” you shrugged but you were yourself getting quite curious about the man now.

“It did hurt quite a bit but… I wish that my spokesperson would write that well. Or that I would myself have such a way with words. At least it helped me to see the truth and… Well it was quite refreshing. People don’t usually talk about me that way, or just about my last nightstand.” he explained

“Oh yes, don’t worry, I really don’t care with whom you slept last night as long as you didn’t abuse or rape them” you smiled and Bruce Wayne’s eyes widened before he let out a very amused laughter.

“I didn’t think your words were also that sharp in person” he commented “Do you want us to go somewhere else a little less noisy so you could do the interview you had prepared?” he offered to which you agreed.

On one hand, you were surprised with how the evening went by.

Your first disgust for the man started to change into real curiosity. You were still unimpressed by him, but you could tell there was something more than just the rich philanthropist playboy act. Bruce Wayne had secrets. But unlike usual people, you didn’t seem to be able to find a way for him to spill them for you. Something was unsettling about him. You wanted to discover so badly what was going on; you were a curious cat.

On the other hand, Bruce Wayne quickly understood that not only were you good with words, you were also good at asking the right questions. More than once, he was about to let go of his “Brucie” persona because of how smart your interrogations about him or his enterprises were. At some point, you were even met by silence because the man had no idea how to answer your question about all the “toys” that Wayne Enterprises was producing and yet never let the army, the police or the government use. Actually, you were wondering who was buying those equipments and why it was so difficult to find who it was. Bruce asked you how you knew about this and you let him know you dug into his financial reports. 

His silence was a challenge for you. 

As the discussion kept going on, you realised you now wanted to know everything about the man, his real personality and all his secrets. The persona he was using in public was pure bullshit. You might have rolled your eyes at him once or twice.

Bruce tried his best to not react, but deep down he had no idea what to do. He had thought it was going to be an easy interview and that once he would have you sit down with him alone, he would have been able to manipulate you, so you could finally write something nice about him. He realised he had never been more wrong in his whole life. He also realised that the more he was feeding you his usual answers to journalists, the more you were pressing the subjects. He just couldn’t make you believe him and his sweet little lies. He couldn’t charm you either. Bruce could also tell that his attitude got the exact opposite reaction he wanted from you. He wanted you to relax around him, but as time passed, the more you were eyeing him as if you were certain that he was a lot darker and a lot more dangerous than he wanted everyone to believe.

Bruce hated to admit it but he found you incredibly attractive. 

Of course you were beautiful, but you were also so smart and observant. You were ruthless to him, in a polite manner which was even worse. You were merciless; you were asking the questions you had to ask, without care for his ego. He didn’t know if he should ask you out on a date or ask you to work for him. At some point, he managed to finally say something that made you laugh (it was a self derogatory comment) and he decided on the first option. 

A part of his mind knew he was playing with fire with you. Still, he asked you out. 

You thought about refusing at first, but then agreed. You needed to know what the great Bruce Wayne was hiding. For you, it wasn’t a “real” date, it was just part of your work.

At the end of the interview, you were more than happy to come back home, your head full of new theories about the man.

Alfred joined Bruce, surprised his master was still sitting down fifteen minutes after your departure.

“How did it go, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked

“Awfully” Bruce replied “Asked her out though, and she said yes” he added

“I’m not too certain if that’s a good thing or not, Master Bruce” Alfred raised a questioning eyebrow

“I don’t know either” Bruce hummed

Bruce Wayne fell asleep that night, wondering what the fuck happened tonight and wondering why he was so excited to see you again.

--

PART 2

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this series <3

@esposadomd

[delulu-baddie]

Special Surprise

Summary: You plan a surprise party for Kate but in order for your plan to work you have to pretend to not plan anything for her.

Pairing: Kate Martin x Reader

Warnings: None just fluff

Today is Kate's birthday and since I’ve known her, I've always made a big deal of it even when we werent dating. However, today my plan is to make her think it’s the last of my priorities, when in reality I’ve been planning a party for her for the past two months. I have a career in event planning so I went all out to celebrate her special day. Her parents, siblings, and some close friends flew in last night and are staying in a hotel close by. I rented out a venue for us to have enough space for everyone, and were getting caterers and many other things.

 It's currently 7:30 and I have a lot to do today, so I quietly get out of bed and start getting ready for the day. As I'm finishing up the final touches of my makeup, I hear footsteps in the hallway signifying Kate is now awake. I take a deep breath and pray that I don't cave and screw my whole plan up by just telling her everything I have planned out of excitement. She knocks on the door and walks in immediately  wrapping her arms around my waist and snuggling her head into my neck. “Good morning birthday girl” I say, giving her a quick kiss on the head. She lifts her head saying good morning back to me, turning me around and giving me a kiss on the lips. “So what are your plans for the day?” I ask her, she gives me a confused look and I immediately know what she's about to say. “What do you mean, didn’t we plan to do our birthday brunch tradition like always” she asked, lifting an eyebrow. Kate and I have always gone out with each other for brunch on our birthdays just to have time with the two of us, but I have so much to do today I'm not going to be able to do it today so I'm hoping the party will make up for it. 

“I'm sorry baby, I must’ve forgotten to tell you. I have a meeting today with my boss about an event coming up for a special client. I'm not going to be able to make it. "I say feeling guilty about bailing on the one thing I know she was looking forward to. “Oh, it’s okay we can do something later when we're both done, I have practice anyways so I probably should’t eat a bunch of food anyways.” she said trying to play off but failed to hide her clearly disappointed face. “ I promise I'll make it up to you, maybe we can go out after we both finish what we need to do today, but I really need to go. I'm already running late, i love you”  I give her a kiss and quickly start gathering my things to leave. Thankfully I didn't say anything about tonight's plans but her saddened expression almost broke my facade. 

The first thing i have to do today is to go pick out an outfit for Kate to wear tonight so i make my way to the mall and go into a few stores before settling on an all red suit with a white top. I go to check out and run into Jada and Gabby “OMG hey guys, i wasn’t expecting to see you until tonight” i say bringing them into a hug “Hey! Yeah we had to get some last minute pieces for our outfits” Jada says hugging me back. “We’re really excited about tonight, it sounds like you have a lot planned out.” Gabby says with a wide smile. “I do, I feel bad about keeping it from Kate, but I know she's going to love it, especially seeing all of her family and friends.” I replied, “Do you need any help with anything, we don't have much planned for the day and we know youre going to be super busy.” Jada asked. “Yes, actually would you mind picking up the cake from the bakery on your way to the party. The table will already be set up so you can just ask the workers to bring the cake in because it's going to be a little heavy. "I ask “of course, just text one of us the address and we'll text you when we get it.” Gabby says “Thank you so much, I have to get going but I love you guys, I'll see you later.” I give them another hug and make my way back to my car.

After getting into the car I get a text message from Kate, it's a picture of her with a birthday girl tiara and button the A’ja got her. I heart the picture telling her she looks adorable before putting my phone on, continuing the errands that i need to do . After a couple of hours I finally finished setting everything up for the party, loving how the decorations turned out. I decided to do a casino themed party since it's our first year celebrating in Vegas. I got a few slot machines, a card table, all of the decorations were casino related, and there was a photo booth that I'm very excited to use tonight with kate. I make my way back home hoping Kate is home when I get there since it's getting closer to the start of the party. I told everyone to get there at 7 and we would get there at 7:30 to give everyone a chance to get there and mingle a little before Kate arrives. Once I get inside I see she still hasn't arrived so I go and hang up the new outfit I got her in the closet and start getting myself ready before she gets here. It's 5:30 and Kate has just arrived back home and I immediately greet her “Hi babe, how was practice?” I asked, walking up, noticing her looking me up and down. “It was good, you look nice” she says, grabbing my waist. “Well I did promise you that i would take you out for dinner tonight, now hurry go get ready your outfits hanging up in the closet.” I told her. “You got me a new outfit, babe you didn't have to do that, i have plenty of clothes.” she says. “I know but I felt bad about this morning so I decided I was going to go all out tonight to celebrate you, starting with making sure you look good.” I say pushing her towards our bedroom urging her to go get ready. She finished getting ready at the perfect time and we started heading to the party that she thinks is a dinner

We get to the car and she tells me that she’ll drive but I insist on driving for obvious reasons, excited to finally show her that my meeting about a “special client” was actually for her. “Oh shoot, I totally forgot I had to drop off some of the decorations for the party I have tomorrow, would you mind if I stopped at the venue before we went to dinner?” I ask her “Yeah that's fine, as long as I get you all to myself for the rest of the night” she says. I park the car and tell her to come inside with me. As we were walking I text Jada and tell her we just got to the venue so that she can let everyone know to get into position for the surprise. As we walk in I grab Kate's hand before opening the door revealing everyone. “SURPRISE” they all yell with smiles on their faces. “WHAT THE HELL” Kate yells looking over at me with a surprised look on her face. “I told you I promised I'd make it up to you” I said with a light laugh. Her parents approach us giving us hugs, giving us each a hug and telling me how much they love the decorations. 

The night is a huge success. Kate kept on telling me how much she loves me and appreciated the party, but I would do anything for her so this was really nothing to me. We make our way over to the photo booth and talk for a little bit before stepping out to the party. “So when you said you had a meeting about a special client, did you mean me?” she says with a smirk on her face. “Yes, you are the most special person in my life” I say smiling up at her. “Well if I'm so special, why did you lie to me about your plans for today?” she asks sarcastically. “I didn’t lie, I just didn't tell you” I say laughing. “Well nonetheless, I love it, thank you so much babe.” she says, bringing me into a kiss. “Of course, you know I had to go full out for your first Vegas birthday.” I say. “Well if this is what you came up with for my birthday, i can't wait to see our wedding” she replies grabbing my hands. “Yeah this is going to be hard to top” I say before kissing her one more time before making our way back out to the party. 

As the night comes to an end, everyone starts to say their goodbyes and tell me how much fun they had, which warmed my heart. I'm just glad that I was able to give my girlfriend the best day today. I make my way over to Kate who's talking to some of her teammates and join in on the conversation, which wasn't too long since it was getting late and they all were ready to hit the sack. “I had so much fun tonight,” Kate tells me, wrapping her arms around me, rocking side to side. “I'm glad you had fun but i have one more gift for you, but we have to go home for that” I say with a smirk. She looks at me confused before catching on to what I just said. She immediately grabs my hand dragging me out to the car eager to receive that last gift.

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 26 - The Heart of Rock & Roll

IN THIS CHAPTER: Odd meetings, sudden realizations, and Dottie goes metal [14.1k]

WARNINGS: toxic friendships (not related to the Corroded Coffin boys, they are the best), technically underaged drinking, angst w/comfort, one (1) queer panic moment, author talking shit about Anthrax (the band, not the disease)

A/N: next chapter will start getting more into the mysteries of hawkins so enjoy our final beach episode type of chapter <3 also please let me know if you wanna added to the taglist! HUGE shoutout to my beloved @gutterratt who helped me put together the setlist - i love you always, and i wish i was drinking chocolate milk with you while talking shit about college.

masterlist - prev - next | main playlist - chapter playlist

They say the heart of rock and roll is still beating And from what I’ve seen I believe ‘em

Friday, June 27th - 1986

“Hey rockstar, come on in!”

Eddie Munson was pretty sure he was never going to be a rockstar. He had discussed this recently with his best friends after an intense practice session and all four of them agreed that this had been fun while it lasted, but it wasn’t something they could realistically pursue long term. Jeff was getting ready to leave for college in West Virginia, Gareth was trading in his plaid sleeveless vest for a suit and jazz music sheets, and Donny was much more interested in perfecting his family tiramisù recipe than to keep shredding his fingers by learning new bass arrangements on a monthly basis. Eddie had had a long time to think about his priorities and hopes for the future, but the proud look on Wayne’s face upon seeing his nephew’s first weekly paycheck stuck to the fridge by an old magnet was enough to cement his decision.

No, Eddie Munson was never going to be a rockstar, but that didn’t mean Corroded Coffin had to hang up their towels just yet. They were still squarely in the middle of Summer when the long awaited muggy and rainy Friday that was poised to be their biggest show to date, if not perhaps the biggest show they’d ever play, finally arrived. All in all, the members of Hawkins’ most misunderstood and badass band felt like they’d gotten their cake and were about to eat it too.

“Nice outfit,” James said, a heavy hand coming to pat Eddie’s back while he closed the door behind him. “Was expecting leather pants to be honest, but this looks great.”

“It’s too hot for leather, sir,” Eddie laughed as he hoisted his bursting backpack up his shoulder. “Maybe next time.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” the older man craned his head towards the stairs. “Honey? Eddie’s here!”

“I know!” came Dottie’s faint voice from the upper floor. “Tell him to come up, I’m not finished yet!”

“She’s already done her makeup three times,” James confided in the younger man. “Maybe you can convince her to stop messing with it.”

“I’ll try my best,” he said, saluting him before climbing up the stairs towards his girlfriend’s bedroom two steps at a time.

Eddie slowly pushed the door open to find Dottie at her desk, still wearing her cotton pajamas with a cute duck print and curlers in her hair while she put the finishing touches on the sickest makeup look he had ever seen on her. As if entranced, he leaned on the door frame while he watched her expertly apply a thick coat of mascara to her eyelashes; she smiled at him through her round vanity mirror and he swore he could feel himself melt against the wood.

“Hey darling,” he said, voice all soft and gooey.

“Hey superstar,” she replied with a flirty tone. “Are you gonna come in so I can give you a kiss before I do my lipstick or nah?”

“If I ever say no to that, shoot me because I’ve been possessed,” he kicked the door shut behind him and hurried to wrap his arms around her middle. “You look gorgeous.”

“This isn’t my final look, I’m not even dressed yet.”

“Dunno, baby, the duckies are pretty metal,” he joked while placing little pecks on her lips. She laughed and swatted at his chest lightly, making the backpack that was perched on his shoulder slide down his arm towards the floor. “Here - I brought you a bunch of shirts, thought you’d like to have options.”

“Thank you! I’ll try them on when I’m done with my makeup.”

“Can I watch while you play dress up?” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows.

“No, perv, my Dad’s downstairs!” Dottie laughed with no malice. “But… you can let me do your makeup now and then you’re free to go get a snack while I take all this stuff out of my hair.”

“Aw, are you gonna make me look pretty, babe?” he batted his eyelashes dramatically.

“No,” she said with a wicked grin. “I’m gonna make you look metal.”

Eddie was dying of anticipation as he sat at the Burke’s kitchen island, distracting himself by eating cheese crackers and talking to James. Dottie was being awfully secretive about her chosen look for the night, and he’d tried to look around her room in search of clues while she was painting his nails with her favorite black lacquer but quickly gave up when she grabbed her eyeliner pencil from her desk. Standing between his legs with her left hand gently placed on the side of his face to keep him still as she worked, he decided to let her do her thing in silence - he’d had too many run-ins with the thick pencil himself and did not want to risk an accident by pulling her focus away from her task.

For a brief moment, Eddie got to enjoy the feeling of his hands on her hips, keeping her close as she swiped the pigment on his waterline, but it was over all too soon for his taste. Once Dottie deemed his makeup perfect, she swiftly pushed him out of the room and locked the door behind him before he couldn’t even think of protesting about it. Defeated, Eddie went downstairs to commiserate with his girlfriend’s father (who was still unaware of the change in the teens’ relationship status) and James kept him busy with genuine interest and a few well placed questions about their plans for the upcoming show.

The young Munson boy was in the middle of listing the songs they’d chosen for the first half of their set when James lifted his eyes from his chopping board and looked at something over Eddie’s shoulder with a very surprised expression on his face. Confused, Eddie turned around and was suddenly met with his usually soft and adorable girlfriend looking like she’d come straight out of one of the magazines he kept hidden underneath his bed.

In the doorway between the kitchen and the living room stood an extremely nervous Dorothy Burke sporting dark eyeliner and deep red lipstick, her wilder than normal curls looking both frizzy and bouncy while she fidgeted as she waited for their opinions. She sparkled with bold silver jewelry that had been borrowed from her friends - a few of Gareth’s smallest rings, Jeff’s studded belt, and Donny’s chain bracelets -, and she was grateful to them for being so willing to help her put together a suitable look for the occasion. Two pieces from her own wardrobe were the only things she felt fully confident about wearing; the black suspender skirt and boots she’d worn for her birthday paired with new fishnets made her feel less strange in her own skin.

It was, however, what she was wearing on the upper part of her body that made Eddie feel like all the air inside his lungs had suddenly rushed out of his body. When he shoved a bunch of his t-shirts into his bag earlier, he hadn’t noticed that particular garment had sneaked into the mix, mainly because it had been a couple of years since he had last worn it. It was a simple top really, a white cotton baseball tee with black short sleeves just like Hellfire’s shirt, but  with his band’s logo printed in black at the front instead. The stylized letters spelling out Corroded Coffin now sat perfectly snug against Dottie’s chest, who was looking more and more apprehensive as silence stretched in the kitchen.

“Woah, honey, you look…,” James began, startled.

“Unreal,” Eddie completed, mouth suddenly dry.

“Shit,” Dottie shook her head. “I knew it, I knew was too much, I- I’ll go change really quick-”

“NO! No, no, are you crazy? This is- wow,” Eddie said, a huge grin spreading on his face. “You look amazing, like a- you look like you’re a Princess of Metal or something. Are you sure you’re not getting on stage with us?”

“I think I’ll leave that to the pros,” she said with a shy smile as her hands fiddled with the bottom of her skirt. “But are you sure this is okay? I have other options-”

“Honey, you look great,” James said, putting down his knife and walking around the counter so he could comfort her with a hug. “It’s just, y’know, different from your usual so we were surprised. But you look very pretty, I promise. You don’t like it?”

“No, I do, it’s just… I don’t know, it feels like I’m a poser,” she looked down at herself. 

“You’re not a poser,” Eddie scoffed. “You know the setlist front to back and you were the one who got us this gig. You’re literally our biggest fan.”

“I thought I was your manager,” Dottie joked. “Also don’t let Lee hear you say that, he’ll get upset and he loves you guys.”

“I can fight him for you, you deserve the top spot,” he said, making her snort. “He’s like 70 and is missing a leg, what’s he gonna do?”

“He’s a war vet! Have some respect for the man!” she gasped.

“I bet you could push him over if you wanted.”

“Eddie!”

“Alright, kids, no fighting veterans in this house, okay?” James said while taking off his apron. “I’ll go get the camera before you two head off - behave while I’m gone, please.”

Once he was back and with a new roll film in place, James motioned for them to pose for his impromptu photoshoot. Eddie was quick to hop back onto his stool, bringing Dottie closer to him with his arms around her waist. With him sitting down and her standing between his legs, their heights finally somewhat matched for once and the eldest Burke snapped photo after photo of the dolled up teens - first with big smiles, another one with their tongues out, a third one with the devil horns up, and the last one slightly out of focus as Eddie planted a big wet noisy kiss on Dottie’s cheek making her squeal as she tried to leap out of his embrace. James’ only comment was to offer copies for Wayne, and Dottie instantly knew by his lack of teasing that there was a potentially very embarrassing conversation in her near future.

“We good to go?” Eddie asked. “Gotta head to Gareth’s first to load the drums.”

“Yeah, I’ll go get your backpack and we can leave. Meet me outside?” she replied, disappearing into the living room.

“Come on, I’ll walk you out,” James said, guiding Eddie towards the front door. It didn’t come as a surprise to the younger man when he lowered his voice for a man to man talk. “You kids drive safe, okay? Call me if you need anything, don’t bother your Uncle while he’s at work.”

“Yes, sir,” Eddie said, uncharacteristically serious. “Donny’s gonna take over for me if I’m too tired to drive back, we have it under control.”

“Okay, good. I trust you, Ed. You go have fun, yeah? Have a great show.”

“Thank you, sir. We’ll be safe, I promise.”

None of them were exactly unaware of the deeper meaning of their conversation, especially since it hadn’t been the first one of its kind they’d ever had. Eddie felt equal parts grateful that James trusted him so much and ashamed that he was actively lying to his face every single time he saw him. He was so used to Wayne knowing that sometimes he forgot no one else did, and while he was on the same page as Dottie and they both agreed that they didn’t want to make things awkward with their friends just yet, he hoped they could tell James sooner rather than later. He’d hate to disappoint the one person who had so warmly opened the doors of his house to him before he even knew who he was and without an ounce of judgment.

Dottie finally joined them at the door and after a few quick goodbyes and loving hugs, the pair got into the van and drove off towards the first stop of their most anticipated adventure of the summer. Take that, Hawkins, Eddie thought. Corroded Coffin was officially a touring band, and he was confident nothing in the world could derail the night ahead of them.

Indianapolis was not too far away from Hawkins, located only around 42 miles to the Southwest of the much smaller town. Corroded Coffin (plus Dottie, who was by then considered as much part of the band as the rest of them) had piled into Eddie’s van with their instruments and amps as they excitedly made their way towards their biggest gig ever. After a short argument that Eddie quickly silenced, Dottie secured her place as his co-pilot due to her knack for map reading, leaving the other three boys to sit in the back with Jeff acting as the official DJ for the ride.

Entering the city felt like a dream come true. As Gareth drummed on the window with his sticks, perfectly in tune to the songs coming out of the van’s speakers, Donny leaned forward to follow Dottie’s map over her shoulder, nervously watching as their destination grew closer and closer to her moving finger. It felt momentous as they saw the bar’s neon sign calling to them like a beacon, all five sets of eyes wide with anticipation as Eddie pulled into the parking lot behind the building. They sat in silence for a few seconds once he cut the engine and the radio was turned off, everyone’s heads reared towards the direction of the bar with elation and perhaps also a little bit of apprehension.

The Hideout was safe, a known place with familiar faces that cheered for them and supported their dreams even if no one else in their godforsaken town did. Here there would be no Dave with cold beers waiting behind the bar, no B.B. and Rudy telling stories, no Shonda’s cheek pinching once they were done, no Lee asking for a Judas Priest song before they packed their gear back into the van. Turning in his seat to look at his fellow band members, Eddie’s mouth split into a contagious grin in an effort to muster some collective courage.

“Well, boys. We made it,” he said, cringing at the sound of his own uncertain voice tone.

“So, what now?” Donny asked. “Do we start unpacking or…”

“Um, I think…,” Dottie said, chewing on her lower lip. “I think I’ll go in and see if Jessie is around? I talked to her last week and she said she would be here. She’ll tell us what to do.”

“I’ll go with you,” Gareth offered, quickly jumping out of his seat.

“Okay, we’ll, uh, we’ll get ready to start unloading then,” Eddie said, motioning for everyone to get out of the van.

“God, I need a fuckin’ smoke,” Donny muttered nervously as Dottie linked arms with Gareth and headed towards the sidewalk.

Moore House was a quaint corner pub a few blocks away from the main IUPUI buildings in Downtown Indianapolis, and even though rain had been announced for later on in the night, the outside tables were beginning to fill up with tired and stressed college aged kids trying to let loose for the weekend. The new semester wasn’t scheduled to start for a few more weeks, but that didn’t mean activities at Indiana and Purdue had been reduced completely to zero; there were summer lessons to be taken for extra credits, early graduations to be celebrated, part-time and student jobs to be worked, and sport camps and clinics to be attended, and Moore House always made sure to offer a safe, fun, cheap destination for visitors and locals alike.

Gareth stared around the pub in wonder, absorbing the atmosphere while Dottie stood on her tiptoes searching for someone. There was a long bar counter in the middle of the room with wooden stools and a cash register at each end, a sizable number of booths and tables with people milling about and enjoying cold beers and various pub foods, and a low stage at the back on the right side of the building. The curly haired boy gazed at the flags and banners that decorated the room: cream and crimson for Indiana University, old gold and black for Purdue, and Hoosier pride everywhere you looked.

“Are we sure this isn’t a sports bar?” Gareth asked, eyes stuck to a table with a group of guys who looked like they would have been best friends with the Hawkins Tigers.

“It’s just a college bar, their campus is like 10 blocks away,” Dottie said, balancing on her toes. “Also there’s like a million bars around here, they need to attract people somehow and school pride always sells. Oh, there she is!”

Jessie the Night Shift Manager was standing right outside the kitchen door talking to another employee, her bold makeup and crimped hair instantly making Gareth’s eyes widen. Dottie grabbed his hand and led him straight to her, a warm smile spreading on Jessie’s lips as soon as she recognized the younger girl approaching her.

“Goddamn, teach! That’s a hell of a look,” Jessie said, pulling Dottie into a one armed hug. She was holding a clipboard on her other hand, a clearly borrowed bright pink scrunchie she hadn’t had the time to use yet secured around her left wrist.

“Wanted to look the part for the show,” Dottie shrugged. “This is Gareth, he’s Corroded Coffin’s drummer.”

“H-hi, how’s it going?” he said, a little bit dazed upon seeing Jessie’s snake tattoo wrapping around her upper arm.

“Hey, nice to meet you, dude!” she replied, putting her hand forward to shake his before she turned back to Dottie. “I know I told you last week over the phone, but congrats on your graduation!”

“You too! Any news about the job thing?”

“I’m still waiting to hear back from the lab but fingers crossed! If I have to spend another summer managing this kitchen, I think I’ll off myself,” Jessie joked. “Where’s the rest of the band?”

“Oh, they’re in the parking lot! Should we start unloading the van now?”

“Hell yeah! We’ve got a great crowd tonight, should be fun. A lot of people touring campus this week,” she said while leading them towards an employee-only backdoor. “You guys can come from the parking lot straight through here, I know your equipment is probably heavy.”

“For sure, thanks-” Dottie was saying before Gareth cut her off.

“Not a problem, I can carry heavy loads,” he grinned.

“Good for you, kid,” Jessie said, an amused smile gracing her lips. “Well, just let me know if you need anything. Come find me when you’re done, teach, I’ll get you set up at a table!”

“Seriously?” Dottie raised an eyebrow at Gareth as soon as they were alone again. “You can carry heavy loads?”

“Don’t,” he groaned. “I panicked. You didn’t say she was hot.”

“Who’s hot?” Donny asked, leaning against Eddie’s van with a cigarette between his lips.

“Jessie, the manager. She’s too old for you anyways,” Dottie said at large before going to help Eddie and Jeff at the back of the van.

“Says who?” Gareth argued.

“She called you kid,” she replied, not even looking at him.

“Shit, man,” Donny laughed. “It’s lost.”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Between all five of them, the members of Corroded Coffin plus Dottie made quick work carrying the heavy equipment inside, their constant back and forth through the backdoor making the bar’s patrons notice the commotion. A live show was always something to look forward to for the college aged students who frequented Moore House, particularly if they had a bottle of beer in their hands. College was a moment where people got to figure themselves out, and there was no greater feeling than discovering a piece of yourself you didn’t know was there before through the rush of a good (and free) show.

Eddie and Gareth began putting the drum kit back together while Jeff and Donny went back to the van to get the last few bits and bobs they’d need for the show; Dottie, on her last task before being dismissed as their roadie for the night, headed towards the bar to grab a few water bottles for her friends as she knew they’d be asking for a drink two songs into their setlist. Corroded Coffin might not have known what it was like to shed blood and tears on a stage, but they certainly could sweat for an entire crowd if necessary.

Because of the jitters currently racing through her body, Dottie did not notice there were two people staring straight at her from the other side of the bar, directly opposite from where she was waiting for Jessie to come back from the kitchen. A boy and a girl about her age were inching closer and closer to her, muttering amongst themselves curiously and trying not to startle her.

“It’s her, I know it is,” the girl said when she was within hearing distance.

“No, it’s not, just look at her,” the boy was saying, and Dottie would have turned towards them if not for the fact that Jessie had finally appeared, a pile of cold water bottles balanced on her forearms.

“Ooookay, here you go,” she said, tilting the pyramid into Dottie’s waiting hands. “If you need more, ask Pearl or Frankie, I’ve caught them up to speed now.”

“Thanks, I will!”

“Oh, also I set up two tables for you guys over there,” Jessie leaned over the countertop to point to two square tables pushed together near the stage. “Just, y’know, tell them not to aim the amps directly to that side or your ears will start bleeding two minutes in.”

“I think I’m immune to it by now, but thank you for worrying about my hearing,” Dottie laughed.

“Holy shit, it is her!”

Nothing could have prepared Dottie for the whiplash of turning around and discovering the gossiping couple were none other than Benji and Tracey, two of her old friends from when she lived back in New York. She was suddenly grateful she had her arms busy, because her first instinct had been to reach out for a hug before her brain caught up to her limbs and she remembered why she didn’t consider these people her friends anymore.

“Dorothy?!” Benji asked, confusion all over his face as his eyes raked over her image.

“H-hey guys, what are you doing here? I- I mean, how are you doing?” Dottie managed to get out, trying to school her expression into what she hoped was a pleasant face.

“I got into Purdue! We’re touring the campus,” Tracey said, proudly. “Oh my god, are you going to Purdue too? Or Indy? Do you live around here?”

“No, no, I’m… I’m here with some friends, we live in a different town. We’re just here for the show.”

“Well, you look like you’re ready for it!” Benji said with a dumbfounded tone. “What happened to your hair? It was so long before, we almost didn’t recognize you!”

I cut it myself with a pair of kiddie scissors at a gas station halfway through Pennsylvania, was what Dottie thought, but she wasn’t about to tell them that, lest they knew how brokenhearted she’d been when she’d left everything she’d ever known behind to move to Hawkins. There was an old wound opening itself in the middle of her chest, and she’d fight tooth and nail before they ever saw her bleed again.

“Just needed a change! You know how it is - new year, new me,” she laughed and the fakeness of the sound went unnoticed by the pair but not to her. “So, you’re both going to Purdue then?”

“Oh, no, just Trace,” Benji waved his hand as he spoke. “I got into UTA. Gonna do Civil Engineering actually, so you can thank your Dad for that one.”

“No way!” Dottie smiled, and this time it felt less fake. “That’s awesome, congrats. And you’re still doing Psych?”

“Yup!” Tracey beamed at the fact she remembered. “I’m so excited! I’m gonna move in with Howie so we’re looking to rent an apartment somewhere around here.”

“Oh, wow, you and Howie? Didn’t see that one coming.”

“No, ew, not like that,” she shuddered. “He’s going to Indy U. We’re just gonna live together, you know, try not to kill each other. Fun stuff.”

“Is- is Howie here too then?” Dottie asked, dread settling at the base of her stomach.

“Yeah, Jeanette and him are trying to find a place to park, they’ll be here in a sec.”

“Jeannie is here?”

“We don’t call her like that anymore,” Benji said, his tone playful but revealing of the fact that he thought it was stupid.

“Where are your friends?” Tracey asked, not aware that Dottie’s knees were flaking on her. “We can all sit together and catch up!”

“I- Sure, it- it’s that table over there,” Dottie managed to get out, pointing to it with a lone finger. “I need to do something first but you guys go sit and I’ll find you later!”

Without waiting for confirmation, Dottie launched into a sprint towards the backdoor, not stopping until she saw the parked van on the other end. She found Donny with half his body shoved inside the back, searching for something on the floor while Jeff peered over his friend’s shoulder on his tiptoes, arms heavy with carefully looped cable cords.

“He always does this!” Donny complained, voice a little muffled.

“We should get him a stick bag for his birthday.”

“He has a brown leather bag, he just never uses it because it doesn’t look cool but if he keeps losing these goddamn sticks and making me find them, I swear-”

“Woah, what’s the rush?” Jeff asked when he spotted Dottie bounding towards them.

“My friends are here,” she wheezed out, dropping the water bottles she was still holding onto the van’s carpeted floor.

“What?”

“My shitty friends from New York,” Dottie explained. “I just ran into them, they want to sit with me and catch up and I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“Okay, okay, come here,” Jeff pulled her into a tight hug. “Who are these people again?”

“Remember when I told you about my best friend Jeannie who kinda stole my boyfriend but not really?”

“That bitch!” Donny said, abandoning the search for Gareth’s second set of drumsticks.

“Yeah, so, her and three more people. Trace and Ben are being super nice to me which is odd as hell because they spent all semester not talking to me before I moved away, and apparently Howie is here too and he’s always been kind of a douchebag but I never cared for him that much and I doubt he cares about me either.”

“I know I’ve said this before but they sound like they suck,” Jeff said.

“They do, yeah,” she rested her head on his shoulder, arms wound around his waist. “What do I do? They already know I’m here, I can’t just disappear and miss the show.”

“Hey, look at it this way,” Donny proposed. “You won’t be able to talk that much when we start the set and as soon as we’re done, we’ll be there for backup.”

“Yeah! You just gotta survive like ten more minutes on your own.”

“That does not make me feel any better.”

“We’re playing Mötley,” Jeff said, looking down at her.

“What? There’s no way Eddie allowed that.”

“Oh, Ed was in no position to argue,” the two boys snickered over her head.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll find out,” Donny said mysteriously before turning back to the van. “By the way, have you seen Gareth’s extra drumsticks?”

“Yeah, I put them in my door pocket ‘cause they kept rolling around the back,” Dottie said, unlatching herself from Jeff’s front and going to get them. “Here.”

“You hold onto them, he didn’t bring the holder.”

“I told him we were forgetting something!”

Feeling more confident after their pep talk, the trio made their way inside where they exchanged a final group hug. For good luck, Jeff said, and while no one knew if he meant it for the band or Dottie, the question went unasked. He was the first one to walk into the bigger room to take the rest of the cables to their friends setting up on stage while the water bottles changed hands once more, this time settling on Donny’s arms.

“Hey,” he said, before they finally had to face the music. “You’ll be okay. You have us now.”

“I know. Thanks, Don,” she smiled, leaning to kiss his cheek and leaving a bright red print on his skin. “Oh, no, I forgot I had lipstick on!”

“Leave it,” he laughed, walking backwards and pushing the doors open with his shoulder. “It looks badass!”

Dottie felt a little bit like a lamb walking towards the slaughterhouse as she approached her table, now occupied by friends from what felt like a previous lifetime. Tracey and Benji were sitting next to each other, each of them holding a beer bottle and doing what one could only assume was gossiping as they looked around the place and the people mingling around. Next to them sat Jeannie, hand wrapped around a tall cocktail with a practiced air of nonchalance undercut by the tiniest bit of hardness in her stare. Rounding the group was Howie, already wearing an Indiana University shirt and cap he’d probably gotten during his tour earlier on in the day.

“Hey everyone,” Dottie said, smiling at them when she approached.

“Dorothy?” Howie said, getting to his feet to pull her into a hug. “Wow, what happened to your hair?”

“Oh, I just… I chopped it off! Do you like it?”

“Love it!” Tracey was saying but a voice rose above hers, cutting her short.

“You look like you’re wearing a costume,” Jeannie sneered before also getting up and hugging her former friend.

Being friends with Jeannie had never been an easy task for anyone who had been brave enough to try. She could be lovely if she liked you, could even be considered caring on occasion, but she could also tear you apart just as effortlessly with a few well-chosen words. Jeanette Sanders was the undisputed leader of their friend group, and she carried that title with pride, not allowing anyone to challenge her or her authority if they wished to remain in her graces. Tracey, on the other hand, had always been known as the genuinely kind one of the bunch, if a bit of a pushover. Whenever Jeannie lashed out, Tracey was always there to patch up the wounds she left behind in her wrath, never complaining about it but, most importantly, never defying her.

Howie, however, was a different story. In true Golden Retriever fashion, he had been deemed too dumb to be Jeannie’s second in command but too useful to cut by the time they’d entered high school. He had the most money, the biggest house, and as soon as they reached the age to own a license, the only one who had unlimited access to a car thanks to a very generous gift from his wealthy Criminal Attorney father. That is not to say that the only reason they were friends with him was what he could purchase or what he owned; after all, they’d known each other since they were six, but it was a well-known fact that they put up with his consistent silly frat-boy behavior because he just made plans go so much smoother if he was included in them.

What Howie had going on with his dumb rich kid lifestyle, Benji matched with his stereotypical still-in-the-closet theater kid attitude. Benji was smart, calculating and quick-witted, he was unrivaled in the Fine Art of a Comeback, and had secured his place as Jeannie’s right hand man a long time ago by sheer virtue of knowing who everyone was, and most valuably, what everyone wanted. He could be incredibly manipulative and two-faced, but he was also the one who was the most honest with Jeannie, constantly calling her out and keeping her in check whenever he thought she went too far.

Regardless of this, Dottie had to admit that if you had asked her what she thought of them a mere year earlier, she would have never described any of her former friends with such harsh words. Instead, she would have told you that Tracey was loyal to a fault, tender and compassionate with everyone around her, and that Howie was funny in a boyish sort of way, clumsy, hardworking, and entirely too selfless regarding his material possessions. She would have labeled Benji as self-assured and opinionated, never shying away from being in the spotlight and most likely to be destined for stardom, and Jeannie… Jeannie would have simply been called her Best Friend.

“It’s nice to see everyone,” Dottie said, swallowing her pride and sitting at the table, her back turned to the stage. “Are you excited for college? Tracey was telling me you two are moving in together.”

“Oh, yeah!” Howie said, leaning back on his chair. “We haven’t found a good place yet, but I’m hopeful. Do you live around here?”

“No, no, I’m just here for the show,” she shrugged. “I live in a different town, we’re like 30 or 40 minutes away I think.”

“Where do you live?” Jeannie asked.

“It’s called Hawkins, it’s to the Northeast? It’s really small, you probably haven’t heard of it.”

“But it’s here in Indiana?”

“Yeah, still Indiana!”

“At least you’re close to Indianapolis,” she said, like she would have dropped dead if she had to move anywhere that wasn’t a major city.

The sudden feedback of a microphone cut through the noise in the pub, and Jessie, busy stationed at the till, motioned to a coworker to lower the lights and cut off the ambient music. On the stage, the boys cringed at the shrill sound, Donny immediately lowering the volume of an amp at his side. Jeff looked sheepishly at the crowd, one hand on the neck of his guitar, the other resting on top of the mic casually.

“Hi,” he simply said, his easygoing tone making people turn towards them with curiosity. “Our name is Corroded Coffin, we’re from Hawkins, Indiana, and we’d like to play a few songs for you tonight if you guys don’t mind.”

Dottie turned around in her seat, completely ignoring everyone else at the table and feeling all her frayed nerves turn into joyous pride as she saw her friends on stage like they were always meant to be. Jeff stood confidently in the middle, wearing a white Metallica t-shirt he’d cut into a muscle tank, ripped jeans and a plaid red shirt tied at his hips. His chains glinted as he turned to look at his band members and Eddie nodded once, giving him the go ahead so he could start playing the intro to Dio’s The Last in Line.

Even if Dottie knew the setlist front to back and had seen them play each song repeatedly throughout the last few months, she found she was still happily stunned at the talent her friends displayed every time they got to play rockstars for a while. We’re a ship without a storm, cold without the warm, light inside the darkness that it needs, yeah, Jeff sang, and if the silence in the room was anything to go by, Corroded Coffin knew they had everyone’s attention on the palm of their hands.

“Huh,” Benji said, surprised. “Was not expecting that from how they look.”

We’re a laugh without a tear, the hope without the fear, we are coming…

“What were you expecting?” Dottie asked with a knowing smile.

Benji had no time to answer as Jeff strongly yelled the word home, the rest of the band following his lead and diving into the rest of the song with purpose and childlike joy. A couple of excited hollers were heard through the bar as Jeff launched into the second verse with the usual intensity he always performed with; Eddie joined him once he reached the chorus, happy to be the background vocals to his much more operatic-inclined friend.

They took no breaks at the end of the song, launching straight into Iron Maiden’s Flight of Icarus to a similar reception from the crowd, much to their surprise. Dottie sang along without a care in the world, entirely too delighted to care about the people around her when her boyfriend and her best friends in the whole world were finally living their shared dream and gifting everyone one of the best performances they’d ever done. Moore House was no Madison Square Garden, but to Corroded Coffin it might as well have been anyway.

Once they reached the last two songs in the first half of their set, Dottie anxiously leaned forward in her seat knowing this would be Gareth’s make or break moment. Perched behind his drum set, his next task ahead was to ace Metallica’s Motorbreath and Mötorhead’s Overkill back to back, and while he felt more than capable of rising to the occasion, there was still the nagging feeling that something might go wrong at the worst possible moment. He breezed through Motorbreath with ease, having played it several times to great success at The Hideout, but to go straight into Overkill with no time to shake off the tension in his arms had him all strung-out, and he had expressed as much in the van during their trip to Indy.

“Get it, G!” Dottie yelled in an effort to be supportive, and he absolutely heard her in the lull between the two songs, letting out a crazed laugh as he launched into Overkill’s intro.

Eddie wasted no time to jump in and the rest of the boys followed, giving it their all to get the crowd hyped up before they took a small water break. Maybe it was the manifestation of Gareth’s worst fears, maybe it was the fact that he’d gone all out for the last two songs and wore the wood out, or maybe it was simply an unlucky coincidence, but right at the last second, during his last hit, one of his drumsticks fractured into two pieces with a loud crack that made even Howie wince. Donny hurried to Gareth’s side and they shared a quick talk before the drummer stood up and started power walking towards the exit, most likely headed to the van in search of a new pair of drumsticks.

“We’re gonna take a short break, let you guys get a breather and more drinks, take a piss if you need it,” Eddie said into his mic with a cheeky smirk. “We’ll be back in a sec with more songs, thank you for the great vibes so far.”

“This is fun,” Howie said, polishing off the rest of his beer as Jeannie scoffed next to him.

“Where the fuck is he going,” Dottie muttered to herself distractedly as she watched Gareth bolt past her. “G! G! Jesus Christ- Gareth!”

“I’ll be right back-” he was yelling back to her when he saw her bend down and take his extra drumsticks out of the side of her boot. “Oh, thank God!”

For the first time that night, Gareth realized Dottie wasn’t alone at their table and after shooting the strangers a quick hello, he awkwardly turned towards his friend, feeling very much observed by them and not in a particularly welcoming way. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question; she simply pressed the sticks into his hand and mouthed the words “Ask Jeff”. He was about to say something when Jessie the Night Manager appeared suddenly, shoving more water bottles into his arms.

“You’ve got great taste, teach!” she said to Dottie before turning to Gareth. “Band sounds really good!”

“Thanks!” he said, eyes widening and eyebrows disappearing behind the floppy curls on his forehead.

“Better get back on stage, hot stuff, break’s about to end,” Jessie winked and quickly disappeared behind the bar again.

“Wow,” Dottie said, teasing him. “Didn’t think you’d actually start drooling.”

“I’m gonna need you to be quiet while I restart my brain,” he breathed out, entirely too flustered to come up with any defensive statement. “You said you talked to her last week, can I have her number?”

“No. Go up there and keep being charming until she gives it to you herself! You got this,” she pushed him towards the stage; he twisted in her hold and grabbed the back of her head with one hand to plant a wet, noisy kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, thank you for these!” he said, jogging back towards his bandmates.

“Love you too! Don’t break them, that’s your only extra pair!” Dottie yelled after him and he waved the drumsticks over his shoulder to let her know he’d heard her.

“Well,” Jeannie said with a dangerous glint in her eyes and her arms crossed. “Looks like Little Miss Dorothy isn’t so little anymore. Didn’t take you for a groupie.”

“I’m not their groupie,” she frowned. “Those are my friends, I’m just being supportive.”

“Really? How did you meet them?” Tracey asked, curiously.

“We went to school together. I had Political Science and Chemistry with Gareth, we were lab partners for a few months.”

“You’re not dating that guy, are you?” Benji laughed. “He seems nice but it looks like he’s in love with that waitress.”

“Ew, no, he’s my best friend,” Dottie said, a fond smile on her face. “They all, actually.”

“Best friends, huh?” Jeannie said pointedly. “In six months? You moved on fast.”

“Guess I learned that from you,” she shrugged, turning around once more to watch the rest of the show leaving Jeannie to fume in silence.

“Alright, everyone, who’s ready for some more?” Jeff said into the mic, capturing the bar’s attention once more. “You good to go, Gare?”

Instead of answering, Gareth simply launched into an intro Dottie was very familiar with, but she was confident it hadn’t been included in the setlist she’d seen in the van. They were supposed to open the second half of their show with a Megadeth song, she’d heard Donny argue for it, so what did Eddie think he was doing joining his drummer and plucking along to Van Halen’s Hot for Teacher? It was even more surprising when he approached the mic as Jeff took over guitar duties; the eldest member of Corroded Coffin scanned the crowd with a mischievous smirk until his eyes found his girlfriend before he leaned into the mic.

“Oh, man, wait a second,” he began, turning towards Donny and hamming it up for the performance. “What do you think the teacher’s gonna look like this year?”

Dottie let out a loud laugh disconcerting everyone at the table, but when she locked eyes with Eddie and he winked at her, she knew that Gareth had, as she’d suggested, asked Jeff about the uncomfortable situation going on offstage and had been thoroughly briefed on the issue at hand. It was so like them to change their setlist to make her feel better, and yet so unexpected that it left her a little teary. With a simple gesture, something no one else would have noticed except her, they’d managed to remind her that she had their support no matter what happened or how far they were from her.

As the show went on and the boys played a very funky rendition of Whitesnake’s Saints an’ Sinners, one of Gareth’s favorites, Benji and Tracey began getting more into it, cheering along with Dottie, swaying and headbanging in all appropriate places. Howie looked like he was honestly enjoying himself during Helter Skelter, even going so far as to sing along, elated that there was at least one song with lyrics he actually knew in the setlist. The band took a few seconds to let Jeff drink some water before they played Van Halen’s Little Dreamer, showcasing the boy’s best asset: his lovely crooner voice, full of body and emotion.

By the time Corroded Coffin reached their last song, Moore House was packed with the patrons that had been sitting outside when they’d first arrived at the bar. A light irregular shower had forced people to either go home or seek refuge inside, and many had gladly chosen to stay for the rest of the show and were now being treated to a high energy rendition of Quiet Riot’s Cum on Feel the Noize to close out the evening. During the song, there was a moment where Donny and Eddie, who were goofing off with each other, turned to look at Jeff and Gareth who were also playing along to their antics from the other side of the stage.

Miles away from home, in front of a crowd that had only just met them but seemed nonetheless enthusiastic - or at least not disgusted by their presence - the quartet had never felt more at ease when performing. Even if Moore House wasn’t The Hideout, they knew they could get used to it just as easily if given the chance.

“So,” Eddie said, once the applause at the end of the song had quieted down. “Normally that would have been our last song, but today’s a special day for us. You see, Moore House, today’s the very first time we’ve played outside of our hometown. Little Hawkins has had quite the monopoly on us for the last few years,” he joked, making a few people chuckle along with him. “The truth is, we wouldn’t be here without a very special someone in the audience. You might have heard her screaming her ass off like a banshee all night - that was pretty metal of you, princess.”

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving her floating between the tables as Dottie realized Eddie was talking about her. Charmed like a snake, she sat a little bit taller, eyes glued to the tender smile her boyfriend was not so secretly affording her. It didn’t matter if anyone else saw the hearts floating above his head - he was so in love with the short haired girl sitting a few feet away from him that he was willing to bear all the jokes their friends had been making at his expense for the past week every time they practiced the surprise they had planned. Just the look on her face was worth all of it, and so much more. Donny motioned for her to stand up and she did so, one hand wrapped around the back of her chair for support.

“That’s our banshee!” Gareth said, gleefully.

“Actually, that’s our manager,” Jeff chuckled into his mic without missing a beat. “And she’s the one that got us this gig so you’ve been enjoying the show, please give it up for her.”

Jessie finger-whistled loudly from behind the till, leading the amused applause that broke out while Dottie marveled at the audience happily following Jeff’s commands. It was undeniable that Corroded Coffin had always been charming, but seeing how strongly a crowd of college aged strangers reacted to them had her feeling incredibly bittersweet at the fact that their path to glory was being cut short so early by themselves of all people. Maybe she could convince them to see their college adventures as a hiatus rather than a permanent break. Four years would pass by quickly, wouldn’t they?

“To show our gratitude to our most Darling Dottie, our friend and manager, let’s end this on a high note, shall we?” Eddie redirected everyone’s attention back to the stage. “This has been Corroded Coffin, from Hawkins, Indiana, and we have one final question for you, guys-”

No fucking way, Dottie thought when she heard Jeff start playing their surprise song. There’s no way. They’d never do this outside of Gareth’s garage, I must be totally hallucinating-

“Whatever happened to Saturday night?” Eddie sang into the mic, exchanging positions with Jeff and taking the lead singer spot in the middle of the stage. “When you dressed up sharp and you felt alright?”

“Oh, I love this song!” Benji said, in true theater kid fashion.

“You used to love Rocky Horror, didn’t you?” Tracey said, remembering an old theater ticket Dottie used to keep around as a bookmark.

“I still do, yeah,” she breathed out, a dazed smile etched onto her face.

Eddie wasn’t the best singer in Corroded Coffin. He knew this very well and didn’t have any issues admitting to it, especially when what he lacked in the voice department, he knew he more than made up for with his guitar skills. When he’d brought up the idea of closing the show with Hot Patootie/Bless My Soul as a thank you to Dottie, everyone else had quickly agreed that while the gesture was lovely, the song did not fit in with the rest of their planned set. The boys had then begun suggesting different songs they knew she liked, but Eddie had remained undeterred. In the end, the only reason he’d managed to crack them was because he’d arranged the sax break into a new guitar solo that had really excited Donny upon hearing it, and so the rest of the band followed suit in changing their opinion.

“Go, girl!” Benji pushed Dottie towards the stage when the solo started and Eddie kneeled near the edge looking right at her as he played. “He’s waiting for you!”

With red cheeks and embarrassed giggles, Dottie let herself be guided towards the stage by both Benji and Tracey, turning back to look at them dancing with one another when she felt their hands leave her back. Shifting her focus back on Eddie and only Eddie, Dottie let herself imagine a future where they got to do this all the time, and instead of having to play covers of well known bands, Corroded Coffin would be allowed to play their own songs - the ones she knew were written into notebooks stashed in Eddie’s closet and Donny’s old toy chest (now turned into a junk trunk after donating all his action figures to his little sister Giulietta to marry off to her Barbies).

With your arms around your girl you’d try to sing along, it felt pretty good, woo, really had a good time, Eddie belted before he moved away and sang the chorus along with Jeff at this mic, eyes never leaving his girlfriend’s beaming figure at the bottom of the stage. He had never felt so in the zone performing before: he had a cheering audience that consisted of more than five drunks, his girl was dancing and singing along with the crowd, and his best friends were killing it even after Gareth’s little drumstick mishap. At the start of the night Eddie Munson had been sure he would never be a rockstar, but at that moment he couldn’t deny he certainly felt like one already.

“Good night, everyone!” Jeff said while they played themselves out. “You were fuckin’ awesome!”

Most people cheerfully clapped for them before going back to their chosen alcoholic beverages for the night, the speakers sparking back to life with classic rock to mask the chattering and gossiping. Eddie took his guitar off his shoulder and hurried off the stage, wrapping his sweaty arms around Dottie who squealed in delight when he lifted her up and shook her around excitedly.

“Okay, okay, calm down!” she laughed, hands coming to hold onto his shoulders for dear life.

“Thank you, darling, holy shit, thank you,” he said, his voice full of emotion as he squeezed her sides. “That was the best moment of my life, I’m so fucking thankful.”

“You guys were so good! That was your best show ever, I’m so proud of you, babe.”

“Yeah?” he grinned at her, finally moving his face off her neck. “You have no idea how much I wanna kiss the shit out of you right now but the guys are totally gonna notice.”

“We can sneak down to the lake after we drop everyone off,” she whispered, mischief in her eyes.

“Fuck, I’m so in love with you,” he groaned, eyes closed and face tilted towards the ceiling. “I’ll- I’m gonna take my shit back to the van and I’ll be right back or else I’m gonna do something stupid and get us kicked out of the bar.”

“I’ll go get us drinks!” she announced, loud enough so that the rest of the boys could hear her. “Beers for everyone okay?”

“I’ll go with you!” Gareth said, springing up from where he was squatting while he unplugged a pedal. “Leave the kit here, guys, I’ll come get it when my arms aren’t about to fall off.”

He offered his hand to Dottie who happily took it, and together they went to order beers for everyone as a prize for a job well done. Corroded Coffin’s Big Show had been perfect and a celebration was in order, even if their table had been co-opted by a bunch of teens none of them really felt like partying with. Sense of danger lulled by the excitement of the evening and the fact that she was now flanked on both sides by her best friends, Dottie relaxed and finally let her guard down, content on enjoying the festivities and listening to the chatter around her as she often did when hanging out with the boys.

In retrospect, she should have known better. Hawkins had changed her, softened her, made her more trusting, more vulnerable. She was easy prey now, and as much as she tried to hide the gaping hole in her chest every time she looked at her former best friend, Jeannie had always been an expert in sniffing out blood in the water. Dottie really should have known better.

The Corroded Coffin boys might not have been stellar students during their time at Hawkins High, but their social status as the school’s freaks had taught them a very valuable skill: all four of them could spot a lion dressed like a lamb from miles away. Introductions had barely been made before they recognized Jeannie for who she truly was, all fake smiles hiding a look of contempt she just couldn’t - or wouldn’t - mask in its entirety. It was almost laughable how easy it was to pinpoint how important she thought she was, and also just how much it bothered her that none of them seemed to fall at her feet no matter how much she flicked her long hair over her shoulders.

Jeannie sat silently at the table, becoming more and more upset as the minutes ticked by and no one so much as turned to look at her. As Tracey talked to Donny sitting next to her, gushing about the show and his performance, Eddie stretched and then dropped his arm on Dottie’s chair, pulling her closer to him without the rest of the group noticing. She looked up at him for a brief second before she leaned forward with the excuse of grabbing a napkin, letting their thighs touch as she sat back down. They both turned towards Tracey with bashful smiles, and upon hearing her friend praising the lamest band she’d ever heard, Jeannie felt a ball of anger grow and lodge itself in her throat. Time to hunt.

“How would you even know if they’re good or not? You only listen to Hall & Oates, Trace,” she laughed dismissively, finger tracing the rim of her glass with a practiced smug expression.

“You do?” Donny asked Tracey who had suddenly gone mute. “My sisters like them too, I think we have all the albums at home. Do you have a favorite?”

“Um, I don’t know, they’re all good…,” Tracey said, squirming uncomfortably under the sharp sight of her friend.

“Oh, come on, you love H2O,” Dottie said, matter-of-factly. “You used to listen to Maneater constantly.”

“Oh, oh, here she comes, watch out, boy, she’ll chew you up,” Jeff sang softly, making Tracey’s mouth lift up in a thankful smile.

“Show off,” Benji said, but it was clear to everyone he meant it as a harmless joke.

“You guys listen to Hall & Oates?” Howie asked, surprised.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we?” Eddie shrugged. “We all love metal the most, but we’ll listen to almost anything once. How do you think we got this one into our music?”

“Actually, Donny was the one to corrupt me with that Helter Skelter cover, so if you want a teacher, that’s your guy,” Dottie smiled, remembering old conversations with the gentle boy who helped her navigate her first D&D session.

“Why does only he get the credit for corrupting you?” Gareth complained, shoving her lightly.

“Because he lets me borrow all his mixtapes whenever I want them.”

“And I don’t? I’ve offered you my tapes a million times but you never take any.”

“That’s because you’re obsessed with making me listen to Anthrax and I’ve told you like ten times that it’s fucking noise.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Eddie said, raising a hand to stop her. “That’s sacrilegious, princess, you can’t say that.”

“Can’t I have my own opinions?”

“Yes, but if they’re wrong, we’re legally obligated call you out on them,” Jeff said, bottle of beer halfway up to his mouth.

“Et tu, Jeffrey?” Dottie asked, hand to her chest dramatically making Eddie snicker next to her.

“You’re fun,” Benji declared. “I like this new Dorothy.”

“Me too!” Howie agreed.

“New?” Gareth frowned, baffled. “What do you mean new? She’s always been like this.”

It had been a long time since any of the boys had had questions about Dorothy Burke’s past. As months went on and their friendships got stronger, they’d gotten to learn about her extensively and she about them in return. The five of them were a well-oiled machine by then; banter flowed easily, diner and takeout favorites had been memorized to perfection, and comfort was given before it could even be asked.

It was strange for them to think of a moment in their lives before they knew Dottie, because it truly felt like they had known her forever. She’d opened up to them about why she was the way she was sometimes, her past experiences and her fears shaping her into the fiercely loyal yet deeply afraid of being lonely girl they had come to love and appreciate. No one could imagine her being something other than who she had always been - that shy tenderhearted teen looking for connection with a bag full of snacks and a set of borrowed dice - so hearing that Dottie hadn’t always been their Dot was a little shocking, to say the least.

“It’s not that she was very different,” Tracey tried to explain. “It’s just that she used to be more… reserved I guess?”

“She was a loser.”

“Jeanette!” Benji scolded her. “That’s rude!”

“What? You know I’m right!” Jeannie defended herself. “She never wanted to go to any parties or bars, never misbehaved, never drank. I’m surprised she even had a boyfriend while she was such a prude.”

“I- I was just busy-” Dottie muttered, embarrassed in front of her friends and feeling her hidden wounds rip open once more.

“Yeah, busy being a loser! You never wanted to go anywhere with us, the only time we could get you to break a curfew was on Tyler’s birthday.”

“If all that makes her a loser I guess we are losers too, aren’t we boys?” Eddie said, dropping his hand from the back of Dottie’s chair to her shoulder protectively. “I mean, shit, I had to do my senior year three times.”

“I had a panic attack the first time I smoked weed and I’ve never touched that thing since,” Jeff added.

“I still go to church every Sunday morning with my Nonna,” Donny raised his glass as if he was toasting.

“The only party we went to during senior year was the one Dot made us go to, and we had to leave because she got into a fight,” Gareth said, laughing at the memory.

“Actually, Eddie got into a fight,” she clarified, feeling brave with her friends by her side. “I just finished it.”

“Well, you did blackmail the guy, so I think 50% of that fight was on you,” Donny reminded her.

“Fuckin’ Andy, man,” Eddie shook his head. “I had a bruise on my ass for days.”

“She almost broke his nose so I’d say you guys are even now,” Jeff finished, turning to the four people staring at Dottie like she had grown two heads. “You should have seen her, it was awesome.”

“You did all that?” Howie asked, almost with reverence.

“Are they gifting fucking lobotomies in that shitty town of yours or did you suddenly grow a personality so you could lie to get new friends?”

“That’s so mean, Jeane-” Tracey said, but Dottie interrupted her.

“You know what, Jeannie? You’re right. I was a loser,” she said in an even tone, aware that she was bleeding out around a shark. “I’ve always been a loser, and that didn’t change when I moved to Hawkins just because I went to a party once. I’ll always be a loser, I know that, but at least I’m not trying to pretend like I’m cool when I’m actually fucking miserable all the time.”

“Holy shit,” Benji muttered, but no one paid any attention to him.

“Don’t act all high and mighty with me, Dorothy. You may have new friends now that don’t know the real you, but I do. Let’s not lie to ourselves here, you’ll always be that know-it-all nerd who used to hide under my wing for protection.”

“Protection from what?” Dottie scoffed. “I was always Jeannie’s boring little friend from preschool. No one gave a shit about me, you made sure of it.”

“Don’t say that,” Tracey said, frowning.

“Save it, Trace. You were all pretty clear about where you stood when Jeannie started dating Tyler,” she reminded them, and at least Benji and Tracey had the decency to look ashamed. “But thank you, really, because if it hadn’t been for you guys ignoring me, I would have never spent all my lunch periods alone in the library with Mrs. Randall, and I would have definitely never gotten into Michigan without her help.”

“You got into Michigan?” Tracey asked after a beat, eyes shifting over towards where Jeannie was sitting.

“Princess got a full ride and everything,” Eddie said, proudly.

“Well, shit,” Benji said, grinning. “Can’t really say I’m surprised, but congrats! If anyone was going to get in, it was you for sure.”

“You’re such a fake bitch, Benji,” Jeannie turned to him, seething.

“Hey, not my fault your GPA sucked.”

“Okay, guys, come on, we’re losing the plot here,” Howie tried to cool down the room to unsuccessful results.

“You applied to Michigan too?” Dottie asked Jeannie, gears slowly turning in her head.

“Thought it’d be fun,” she shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, I’m going to CSI anyways.”

“Crime Stoppers?” Donny said, confused.

“What?”

“CSI, that’s Crime Stoppers International, right?”

“No, dumbass, Staten Island,” Jeannie said through her teeth, humiliated and furious.

“Isn’t that… sorry, I’m not trying to be mean here but they don’t even ask for your SAT scores to get in there,” Jeff frowned, quickly realizing that had been the wrong thing to mention.

“Once I’m a registered nurse no one will give a shit about my SAT scores. And I get to live with my boyfriend in the city if I go to CSI, so that’s a plus. I’d be stupid to ever leave NYC.”

“You’re still dating Tyler?” Dottie wondered curiously.

“Of course I am. He’s so in love with me it’s actually pathetic.”

“Wow. Does he know you talk about him like that?” she cringed.

“Why do you care?” Jeannie said, smug. “It’s not like he’s still your boyfriend.”

“You’re right, he’s not,” Dottie stood up, brushing Eddie’s shoulder with her hand and feeling very thankful for the path her life had taken. “Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom.”

As she walked towards the door marked with a “Women” sign, she could hear Benji and Jeannie at each other’s throats, Howie still trying to calm them down to no avail. The heavy metallic door closed behind her back and, for the first time since they’d arrived, Dottie felt like she could breathe normally. She approached the sink furthest away from the entrance and began washing her hands with cold water, staring at the suds disappearing down the drain like she was cleaning up her own blood after a fight.

When she’d joined the Hellfire Club and met Eddie, Gareth, Donny, and Jeff, she knew things would be different. She was still fearful at the time, of course; a lifetime of disappointment doesn’t vanish just because you’ve found a few good friends, but even if she’d realized a long time ago how truly lucky she’d been to find her people in the Middle of Nowhere, Indiana, she’d never actually compared her new friend group to her older one. At least, not until now. Four friends with four clear positions, and her as an addendum. Eddie and Jeannie as the leaders, Gareth and Howie as the class clowns, Donny and Benji as the seconds in command, and Jeff and Tracey as the sensible ones.

And Dottie. Always just Dottie, loser, shy, boring Dottie, attaching herself to a group and tagging along to adventures she hadn’t planned or dreams that had never been her own in the first place. Except… well, that wasn’t the case anymore, was it? She’d gotten them the gig in Indianapolis, that had been her creating the adventure. She’d convinced them to go to that fateful party at Jason’s house, they’d gone to prom as a group because she mentioned she wanted to go, they’d gone swimming in the lake in their undies because she’d agreed to it. And that’s not to mention the countless times they’d gone out for ice cream because she’d suggested it, or the movies they had rented because she wanted to see them.

In return, she’d seen The Exorcist because Gareth had wanted to, she had accepted the job Donny had offered because he wanted to work with her all summer, she’d actually jumped into the lake in her underwear because Jeff had encouraged her to do it. With the boys she wasn’t tagging along. They always made sure of it. She was wearing Eddie’s shirt, Jeff’s belt, Gareth’s rings, Donny’s bracelets. They constantly and consistently included her, not just by inviting her to things, but by actually making the effort to make her feel part of them. And she really was. With them, she had always been, from day one and without having to ask any questions.

“Don’t talk to me, I just want to pee,” a voice broke her train of thought, and Dottie only managed to see Jeannie’s long hair swinging before she went into a stall.

Dottie considered leaving the bathroom, going back to her table and sitting down with her friends, maybe even ordering a basket of fries to share and pretend like nothing had happened, but something inside stopped her. As much as she hated to admit it, there was a part of her that still cared for Jeannie and if this was going to be the last time they’d ever speak, she didn’t want to leave things like this. Jeannie had been her best friend a lifetime ago. It wasn’t right to pretend like that shared history had never existed.

She moved to the side to dry her hands as Jeannie came out of her stall and went to wash up, biding her time until she figured out what she wanted to say. Jeannie was visibly furious, the little vein in her neck straining against her skin as she chewed on the same kind of anger she’d been carrying inside since they were kids. Jeannie used to be so furious all the time. She’d break all the toys in her vicinity, whether they were hers or borrowed, she’d bite and pull on people’s hair, and she had to be constantly put on timeout as a child so the teachers could get her to settle down for a few minutes.

Their pre-school teacher had been at her wits end the day she sat Dottie next to Jeannie, hoping that the much quieter and well-behaved little girl would be able to influence the terror that disrupted every single one of her classes. The two kids had gotten along just fine during drawing time, but when they were let out to the playground for a break, Jeannie pushed Dottie off the slide, making her fall knees first onto the gravel below. Dottie had then cried and cried, her tender knees oozing blood down her legs and staining her white socks, and Jeannie, upon seeing their teacher approach, also began crying uncontrollably.

What happened next surprised everyone, mainly because Jeannie wasn’t used to being kind to other kids, but the tiny five-year-old sat eerily still in the nurse’s office next to a sniffling Dottie, holding her hand while Nurse Olivier cleaned and bandaged the hurt child. Afterwards and unlike herself, Jeannie said she was sorry, and Dottie, much like herself, forgave her because “that’s what friends do”. Jeannie had spent the rest of their lives pushing Dottie and holding her hand afterwards. Why would she do that if she wasn’t utterly terrified her oldest friend would eventually leave her, constantly testing the strength of their friendship much like a child who can’t quite understand their own emotions just yet?

“Sorry, can I ask you something?” Dottie said, looking at her former friend through the mirror. Upon receiving nothing but silence, she continued. “Why nursing?”

“What?”

“It’s just… You wanted to do Civil Engineering. You talked about it with Benji all the time, you wanted to apply to colleges together. You even asked my Dad about it.”

“Yeah, well… I changed my mind,” Jeannie said, bitterly.

“But why?”

“Because Engineering is not a girl’s career.”

“Says who?”

Jeannie didn’t look at Dottie as she closed the tap and shook her hands to get rid of the excess water, the latter moving out of the way to let her access the paper dispenser. Her silver bracelet shook as she dabbed at her hands with the rough material and Dottie was suddenly struck with a memory so old that for a second she thought she had made it up as an eight-year-old.

They’d been waiting to be picked up after a long day of school on a Thursday, which meant that it wasn’t James the one Dottie was waiting for - it was Uncle Johnny, coming to take her to her swimming lessons at the community center near his home while her Dad was stuck working extra hours. Jeannie’s mom arrived earlier than him that day, bringing her daughter a present: a small Tiffany’s bag with two matching bracelets inside to commemorate the day she had finally divorced Jeannie’s dad. Dottie had been much too young to understand the intricacies of adult relationships and how they affected her friend at the time, so she’d only cooed and awed at the gorgeous piece of jewelry while hiding a pang of quiet jealousy at the fact that she would never be able to match anything with her own mom.

Two days later during her monthly Saturday Crafting Afternoon with Aunt Mary Elizabeth, she told her what had happened with an innocence that tugged her Aunt’s heartstrings before she tore her craft bins apart searching for supplies to make her niece feel better. Between small breaks that consisted of chocolate milk, homemade cookies, and endless hugs, the two of them worked on a ton of bead bracelets, one for each member of their little makeshift family. James’ bracelet was a gaudy little thing with the word DADDY spelled with a 4 instead of an A because they had run out of the correct letters and Mary Elizabeth was nothing if not incredibly creative. Dottie was confident that if she decided to snoop through his bedside table’s first drawer, she’d find the plastic accessory still rattling around with the rest of his junk.

“Don’t- don’t fucking do that,” Jeannie said tiredly, finally turning around and facing her. “You always do that and it pisses me off.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t act like you understand anything about my life!”

“I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to,” she said with genuine remorse in her tone. “I just wanted to know why, I didn’t mean to-”

“Didn’t mean to what? To rub in my face that you got into a good school and I didn’t? I’m so fucking sick of you, Dorothy,” Jeannie said in calm anger and Dottie wished she’d just yell at her. “Just when I finally thought I’d gotten rid of you, you show up to embarrass me like you’ve always done. Stop pretending like you’ve ever cared about me or my life, because you haven’t. You’re a goddamn liar and you know it.”

“I’ve never lied to you in my entire life, Jeannie,” Dottie said, trying not to bleed out in her attempt to find peace.

“God, do you ever shut up about how good you are? About how nice you are? You were always the Golden fucking Child, and I’ve always been trash compared to you. Oh, Dorothy is gonna do something great with her life, you should be more like her! She’s so kind, so polite, so goddamn quiet,” she said, voice mocking before it switched back to scathing. “Fuck you.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve never said anything like that to you! Actually, you were the one who was always treating me like trash!”

“Oh, give me a break,” she laughed. “You didn’t need to say it, everyone else did it for you. You were the teacher’s pet who always got away with murder, and I was the stupid fuck-up who was too much like her Dad and couldn’t get into your fancy college. I might be a bitch, but at least I’m honest.”

“Jeannie, are you even listening to what you’re saying?” she argued desperately. “I’ve never thought of you like that, I swear! I literally spent my entire life wanting to be more like you - you had a pretty house, and all the toys you wanted. And you had a mom! Everyone wanted to be your friend, and I never understood why you picked me instead of anyone else-”

“I knew it, I fucking knew it, I always knew you were a jealous bitch-”

“God fucking damnit, I loved you!” Dottie admitted, clenching her fists in frustration. “I loved you so much, and I wanted to be like you because I thought if I was, it would make you love me back! You treated me like shit all the time, and I still loved you. You were my best friend, Jeannie.”

Jeannie might have looked like she had just been slapped but Dottie knew she didn’t understand the meaning behind her words, not when she had only figured them out after they’d tumbled out of her own mouth. Feeling strangely lighter, she watched as her oldest friend’s eyes changed from furious to scared, as if she was that five-year-old holding her hand while Nurse Olivier bandaged her bloody knees again. Dottie understood then that it had never been about her or their friendship, but she’d just served a shark her corpse on a platter and she needed to get some closure before she left the sanctity of the girls’ bathroom or else she’d always wonder what could have been.

“Why did you apply to Michigan?” Dottie asked, eyes full of unshed tears.

“...Because you were there,” Jeannie muttered, defeated. She crossed her arms before she continued. “After you left I asked Mrs. Randall about you and she told me you were early admission. I was just so mad at you, I- I don’t know. I never told anyone else you had already gotten in when I decided to apply.”

“Why did you switch to Nursing? You could have picked literally anything else.”

“Tyler’s pre-med at Cornell. You know how his family is, and I obviously couldn’t get in with him, so this was my only choice.”

Tyler’s family, while perfectly nice, supportive and polite, had always stressed to their sons the importance of getting into the family business. Not all of them were doctors, but everyone who had gone to college in the last three generations had gotten a degree somewhere in the Health field, and most importantly, they had also married a medical professional. Tyler’s dad was a generalist, his mother was a psychiatrist, his uncle was a surgeon who had married his assistant nurse.

They never made Dottie feel like she had to change her career path to be with Tyler while she was dating him, and yet there had always been a silent expectation put upon their son to “get serious” further down the line. Jeannie knew what this meant for her own relationship once they went off to college, so she decided to make two households very happy by trading in her Civil Engineering dreams for a future that included a shiny RN badge and a nuclear family who lived in a friendly cul-de-sac.

“They talk about you sometimes, you know?” Jeannie said, surprising the other girl. “They say you were always nice, ask me if I’ve heard from you. I think Flynn misses you the most.”

“He’s a good guy,” Dottie said, smiling. “You should ask him for advice on college stuff, he helped me out a ton.”

“Yeah. Maybe I will.”

“I, um… I should get back to my friends,” the short haired girl said pointing at the door with her thumb. “We have a long way home, so…”

“Yeah, no, I get it,” she smiled, a little wistful. “That guy with the long hair, uh…”

“Eddie. His name is Eddie.”

“Is he good?”

“He’s the best,” Dottie’s smile grew bigger at the thought of her boyfriend. “They all are.”

“They seem nice,” she said, falling quiet afterwards.

“Goodbye, Jeanette.”

“Goodbye, Dottie.”

Jeannie stayed in the bathroom needing some space to process their final goodbye, surrounded by New York Dottie’s remains while Hawkins Dottie walked back to the table. Eddie, as usual, was the first one to notice his girlfriend’s turbulent expression, instinctively putting out a hand to touch her as soon as she was in range for him to do so. He pulled her into the space between their chairs, fingers splayed against the low of her back protectively.

“You okay?” he muttered quietly, but everyone’s eyes were on them regardless.

“Not really,” her lips curved into a small pout. “Is it okay if we go?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Eddie downed the last of his beer and sprung out of his seat. “We just gotta, uh-”

“We’re on it,” Jeff said, also getting up. “You two go get the van closer to the door so we can load the drums, it’s supposed to start raining soon.”

“I have to talk to Jessie about your payment, she told me-,” Dottie said, but the sound of more chairs shuffling cut her off.

“I’ve got it!” Donny said, putting on his battle vest while heading towards the till.

“I’ll go get my stuff,” Gareth announced, unceremoniously jogging towards the stage to disassemble his drum kit.

“Okay then, uh,” Dottie turned towards her former friends to find them already standing up and heading towards her.

“I’m so sorry,” Tracey said, throwing her arms around her for a comforting hug. Neither of them knew who needed it more. “I’m sorry about everything. It was really lovely to see you again.”

“You’re glowing, girl,” Benji said when it was his turn to get a hug. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”

“Show was great, guys,” Howie said to Eddie and Jeff, giving them both a boyish pat on their shoulders.

“Thanks, man. See you around.”

Dottie wrapped her arms around herself while Eddie led her towards the van, never letting go of her hand while he guided the vehicle closer to the double doors that led to the backside of the building. The smell of an incoming storm filled the air as he lowered his window and lit up a cigarette before turning to her with a knowing look on his face.

“D’you wanna talk about it?” he asked, only the rumble of the van’s motor filling the quiet of the night.

“I… I think I used to have a crush on her,” Dottie said, coming to terms with something that deep down she had always known but had never dared to think about.

“Uh-oh. Should I be worried?” Eddie pouted, succeeding in his goal to make her giggle.

“You’re silly,” she moved closer to him, ready to put their argument behind and Eddie obliged, throwing an arm around her. “The show was so good. I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah? You liked our surprise?”

“Are you kidding? I loved it. You’re so talented,” she leaned up to kiss him but couldn’t reach his lips, giving him a peck on his jaw instead. “We have to come back, see if we can get you booked again.”

“I love you,” he said, staring down at her completely and truly lovesick. “You’re amazing. Best manager in the fuckin’ world.”

“I love you too, Ed. Thank you.”

“The hell you thanking me for, darling?”

The van’s back doors opened with a loud noise startling them apart as Gareth and Jeff pushed the rest of their equipment onto the carpeted floor, quickly securing it and climbing into the backseat. Donny rushed out of the building with an unlit cigarette in his hand and an envelope in the other, waving it in the air proudly. The first thunder of the night mixed in with their cheers as he got in and Eddie pulled out of the parking lot.

“Hey, guys,” Donny said, watching Jeff count their earnings. “You wanna go to McDonald’s?”

“Oh, fuck yes,” Eddie said, turning the corner and heading towards the Golden Arches glowing in the distance. “We need fries, don’t we, princess?”

“Yes, please,” Dottie agreed. “And milkshakes.”

“Dot, your old friends sucked ass,” Gareth said, tone conversational but still a little upset on her behalf as he leaned over her seat to throw his arms around her shoulders.

“I don’t know. They weren’t always that bad,” she mused, hands coming to hold his forearms crossing over her collarbones. “You guys are much better though.”

“Hell yeah we are!” Donny said, smug.

“Hey, Gare… I think you might wanna look at this,” Jeff said, barely contained mirth staining his serious tone.

On his hand was a napkin with girly writing scribbled with a blue pen on it, right underneath the Moore House logo. It read: hey hot stuff, sorry to disappoint. I would have totally given you my number if you were older, but sadly you’re not. Keep drumming like that and make me regret having morals when your band becomes huge. XO, Jessie.

“Turn back!” Gareth yelled dramatically, pulling at Eddie’s shoulder. “In the name of love, turn back!”

“Sit down, Bono, she’s four years older than you. She’s not interested,” Donny cackled, forcing him back into his seat.

“Yeah, man, she just wanted to let you down gently,” Eddie said, joining in on the teasing.

“That’s my future wife you’re talking about, you assholes,” Gareth said, knowing full well he didn’t have a chance with Jessie the Night Manager but having fun pretending he did.

As the rain kept falling and their good natured ribbing continued while heading to McDonald’s, Dottie quietly basked in the knowledge that she was safe swimming on open waters with her best friends. She swore right there and then that she was willing to die for each and every one of them, because she knew they were much more likely to be on the surfboard next to her, fighting for their lives together instead of being the ones attacking her.

Previous chapter of her life finally closed, she peacefully leaned against her seat as Eddie pulled into the McDonald’s drive thru. NYC Dottie is dead, long live Hawkins Dottie, she thought, unabashedly staring at her boyfriend as he ordered enough fries and milkshakes to last them the whole trip back home.

taglist: @munsonology @kurdtbean @eg-dr3amer3 @oneforthemunny @munsons-queen

@cinemabean

[theeternalwombtarot]

about me ♡

This is what I look like, obviously lol ^^

- my name is Bayyinah (by-ee-nuh) , it means the clear evidence that god does exist. From sura 98, of the Quran

- California native, born and raised 🐻❤️

- I was raised muslim, but chose a different life path for myself and fell in love with spirituality and found my purpose.

- I prioritize self expression and being intentional about everything I say and do. What you see is what you get with me, and I never say anything I don’t mean, I never do anything I don’t feel called to do.

- I love the arts & the process of creation and have always since I was really little.

-I’m a big fan of aesthetics and visual stimuli, and I love Pinterest and organizing all the little pictures.

- my big three are: Sagittarius sun, cancer moon, and Virgo rising.

- both my venus and mars are in scorpio. I’m in love with love. A great deal of my life lessons are learned through my interpersonal relationships.

- I’m very passionate about children, motherhood and the home. My moon is in cancer and I have heavy influences in my life surrounding motherhood, my relationship with my mother, and the dynamics and things I’ve experienced growing up. A large quantity of my work, and my lives purpose has to do with breaking generational curses/trauma, spinning gold out of my experiences, and creating room and creating change for youth.

- I’m on my journey to become a certified and licensed midwife, but I have various career goals and dreams but one of my largest is to open up a school or an educational institution to better suit the needs of children and aid in their health and growth. I believe that schooling and the home are large foundations in the lives of our youth and if I can’t be all of their mothers I can curate an aligned space for them as they spend the rest of their time learning and growing in schools and in the community.

-I love makeup and fashion and the process of putting myself together. I’ve been doing makeup for years and I genuinely enjoy it.

-I’m known for my compassion and empathy and my ability to connect with others.

-my dream is to create and have a better world and I do my part in helping the collective by using my gifts for good, using my heart and my empathy to help heal and create space for others where there wasn’t space for them before.

- I have dyscalculia and struggled with it all my life until I eventually aged out of school and before I moved onto receiving higher education. My mind simply does not process numerical information or processes well. I was either always told that I needed to practice more or that I was simply stupid, neither were the case, but I struggled with a lot insecurity growing up and I always felt like I didn’t really belong in educational settings because of this set back.

- I am extremely nitpicky and specific about what it is that I want and how I like things to be and that’s been a consistent trait within my life, all my life. I’m known for how specific and finely curated my output is into the world. And I am incredibly sensitive about the things I choose for myself and the things that remain and occupy my life.

- I struggled with having an anxious attachment style for a really long time. It took me a long time to understand my worth, understand that I was worth keeping, having, loving, paying attention to. And that my worth wasn’t what I could do for others or how much I could tolerate or how much I could stand beside someone through thick and thin and hell and back.

likes:

- I love writing. Journaling, writing stories,etc. my goal is to write and release a novel of my own soon.

- I love smooth jazz, classical music and frequency music, probably a whole lot more than regular music and non instrumentals. I tend to be a little sensitive to stimuli or can feel very easily overwhelmed. So instrumentals and softer music and sounds are really wonderful to me and I love them.

- I love cooking and baking (but only when I feel like it) I like good food, and I’m sort of a foodie. I would travel all over the place just to taste the world if I could. And I love spicy food and Mexican Candy and dumping loads of chili flakes on my food for no reason.

-I love history, I love antiquity, and have stored random historical facts in my brain because I just think it’s so interesting.

- I love period pieces and period romances. Romance films, and horror movies. I consume mostly romantic content on purpose.

- I love the sims

-I love animals, and my favorite animal is a cow. If you look up the spiritual significance of a cow as well I think it’s really beautiful. I also really love my cat. She’s my favorite person.

Dislikes:

- I hate being or feeling misunderstood, it took me a lot of time to learn that I didn’t have to bend over backwards to make people see me for who I was or for my intentions or for my gifts or what I can do. The best I can do is be honest and remain intentional about what I do and hope that those who are meant to hear me, will.

- I hate people who have such deeply rooted hatred or disdain for other people who’ve done nothing but do what makes them happy or live in their truth. I hate homophobic people, racists, bigots, red pill men and misogynist, etc.

- I hate it when people can’t take accountability for their actions, are dishonest or lack self awareness on such a deep level that they make everyone else miserable or have a hard time because they refuse to see themselves or grow. I hate it when people don’t grow. I’ve lost a lot of friends and had to let go of a lot of people who couldn’t do what I could do for them, be in alignment with me, or prioritize their healing, alignment, or growth.

- i hate it when there’s too many sounds playing at once, there are certain sounds and stimuli i just can’t tolerate and won’t.

- I hate it when I have to buy new jeans or pants because finding good pants is hard and I never know if the size I think I am is accurate because some pants brands make their pants differently. And I’ll never know if I’ll have that stupid gap in the back of my pants bc of my waist.

- I hate being super cold. I have anemia and the cold really whoops my ass every time. That’s one fight I just won’t win.

- people not valuing my needs or continuing to do something I said I didn’t like or invalidating me because they can’t fathom the fact that other people have different needs, or that just because you feel some way doesn’t mean someone else shares the same sentiment.

- I hate it when things don’t match or aren’t aesthetically coordinated in some way shape or form. Everything must match.

-I hate it when I can’t find the pen I’ve been obsessed with and I hate mechanical pencils with thick lead.

***

Ok, that’s all lol. ❤️‼️

[rowsdelusions]

Older (Luke Hemmings/reader)

Older(Luke Hemmings imagine)

Title: Older

Rating: None

Pairing: Luke Hemmings/Reader

Word Count: 859

Warnings: None

Summary: You and Luke show your love through the song Older

Author’s Note: Since I loved the feeling of falling upwards and the whole idea of Older i decided to do an imagine showing my love and appreciation of the song. But with that said I AM NOT discreating Sierra ALL CREDITS GO TO LUKE HEMMINGS AND SIERRA DEATON. With that please enjoy!!! >_<

^Luke Hemmings/reader^

The only thing I felt was admiration. I was so proud of the boys and what they have done it’s truly remarkable, but as I looked at the stage waiting for my que to come on for Older a song me and Luke wrote together during COVID from just pure boredom because no way am I ever a singer nor do I write lyrics for a living it was just something to do but we fell in love with the outcome and when Luke showed the boys they did as well complimenting me and Luke for it.

But as I waited all I could think about was how utterly in the moment Luke looks. Him on the stage has always been my favorite thing to watch but with this album and this show has such strong meaning to everyone involved I had no idea how the boys weren’t bawling their eyes out. It’s not even my own show and I already feel the tears building up in my eye ducts.

Seeing the queue that I was about to go on stage. I felt like a building just crashed in my stomach, nerves coming back after my thoughts drifted away from Luke. The boys begged me for months to release the song with me and Luke both singing after they caught me singing parts of it while cooking dinner for the group one day, I said no every time they asked me. Why would I sing the song when I don't even sing professionally.

But Luke persuaded me to at least sing it for the show since it’s such a special show. Even then I had doubts, asking the boys over and over again making sure it was alright with them. I never want to over step or do something that their not all that comfortable with but they all stated that it was perfectly okay with them which eases some of my worry but, there's this part of me wishing that one of them said they weren't okay with it so I didn't have to do it.

Singing in the comfort of your home with people you love is one thing but singing in front of thousands of thousands of fans of your boyfriend and his band is the scariest thing I could ever do, and it’s hitting me full force now. Seeing it’s closer to the time that I have to walk on stage increases the nerves. I hear Luke speaking to the crowd. His voice held so much emotion even when he’s making awkward jokes to cover the immense emotion he’s feeling.

My breathing stops when I hear him singing the song that we made together. In a way it was a province of our love. The love that’s grown into something that I can’t imagine ending and never wanting it to end as selfish as it sounds. When I get the nod to go, I start walking while singing my part. But my voice gets shaky when I see Luke at the piano. All the tears that I’ve been able to keep at bay come flushing back. Not even recognizing the screams of fans. My sole focus is on Luke and how captivating he looks under the fluorescent lights, his suit and messy tie along with his beautiful curly blonde hair matching with the eye makeup that he asked me to help put on him before the show makes him look like an angel.

I sit down on the piano bench. Keeping my voice as steady as I can with tears streaming down my face, but when he looks at me it breaks a little. His eyes showing love and admiration, that if you look at him it would seem I put the stars into the sky. I look at him the trying to convey the same thing and more that I could never put into words. Without even knowing it we finished the song like we were on autopilot.

But the fans brought me back just in time. Standing up I see Luke doing the same going over towards his side looking up towards him with a smile on my tear stain cheeks I say, “I love you so much the show is spectacular. I’m so proud of what you and the boys have done and become, thank you for letting me be a part of it.” Looking down at me and taking my tear-stained cheeks into his large, callused hands from playing the guitar for so long, he kisses me with a smile on his lips. Breaking up the kiss he looks down at me so deeply that my knees almost buckle underneath me, but he wraps me into his arms before I could get the chance and mumbles against my lips, “I love you more than anyone can ever imagine.” My smile couldn’t get any wider, but seeing I have to go by one of the stage hands I hurry to say my goodbye with my smile still on my face but it turning into a smirk once I see that my desired goal was reached as I say, “I’ll see you after the show Mr. Hemmings and then I’ll show you just how much I’m proud of you.”

⋆ ★

I'm soooo sorry If it's really short this is my first time writing anything for people and posting but I love 5sos so much that I had to write something please let me know if it's any good and people want to see more cause I'm planning on doing more if I get positive responses back!!!!!! >_<

⋆ ★ row!!

[airytaurus]

placements in my birth chart that just make sense⭐️

🫤virgo asc- now this one I relate too in some parts well mainly I’m only a teenager a still need too grow into my rising sign but also I guess I don’t pay attention too my characteristics that much lol. But I am definitely critical of the smallest things and notice everything and anything, perfectionist especially when it comes too something I love , I have a very awkward/shy appearance at first , definitely that RBF🤭gets nervous and anxious over the smallest situations no matter what it’s literally my biggest annoying trait about me. I also tend too over analyze things especially people because their energy gives it off I also am very and I mean very adaptable no matter what which I think is a good trait every one should have , plus I make good conversations with people but I’m not that approachable but the few friends I do have yea I’m also I am very resourceful and can find anything out in a second.

SCORPIO MOON- this is definitely the most controversial moon sign apparently and I see why from some angle firstly I am a easily jealous person and holds an insane amount of grudges (going to therapy for that) and I have issues being fucked over in friendships mainly. But besides the negatives about scorpios I am loyal and trustworthy of my friends and always supporting them no matter what and always be by their side , I communicate and expect reciprocation because a friendship should be 50/50😁. Also I resonate more with my moon sign because it sounds more like me in so many ways like I want a deep and emotional connection with people I always like being a safe space for someone plus I always feel the need too have control over everything even my overthinking 3H moon things♏️.

taurus sun- let’s see I fit every stereotype loll… nah but most do what I read about taurus is so me literally I love food , being by myself , chilling doing absolutely nothing and equality along with keeping everything together and stabilized. I value my alone time and being with the people I love even my expensive taste in clothes , shoes basically anything materialistic and I hate people who tell me what to do constantly it’s makes me slow down even more , I am hardworking and my main goal is too work and get $$$$ too afford my expensive lifestyle. I am very mellow , down -to- earth and realistic asf I hate people that play dumb or just oblivious to their surroundings it’s ANNOYING😐.

10H MERCURY IN GEMINI- let’s just start off by saying I am a chatterbox when I’m around people I feel comfortable with literally anything and everything will have my talking for HOURS. I legitimately can sit and talk about shit I don’t know most of the time like it’s something I’ve been doing , I make no sense and make lots of jokes and very versatile with my conversations no topic makes me uncomfortable at all😄. I also can be judgmental when people talk because some people just sound dumb when they talk it’s like no way these people are REAL???!! I also when I talk filter what i say at times or how I say it but for the most part I am blunt and realistic with I’m saying which I think everyone should do , I also love teaching or guiding people with knowledge or fun facts it’s my strong suit and makes me feel good.

1H virgo Saturn- bruhh all these years I’ve wondered why I’m so insecure or don’t like being in the spotlight that much or just had so much self doubt and now Ik why😭🧍. I am overwhelmed by how I look or how I am dressed or my appearance, I make everything a 2 hours makeup routine because the slightest bit of overthinking has me like “ok I have too look good”. But I’m also an achiever and have some sort of self confidence and too myself which I think is good and I am assertive when I need to be.

Uranus opposition ascendant- no wonder why relationships give me the biggest cringe because I can’t stand be told what to do or have my freedom monitored every time I go somewhere. I am attracted or drawn too strange and weird people and strange/eccentric are drawn to me ig😭plus I’m surprised I have this aspect because I am a committed type but at the same time give me my space and freedom dawg I find being independent in a relationship is so hot and attractive.

[oliverreedmasterass]

Words: 7.6k

Warnings: smoking, sexual innuendos, some head trauma, cops, brief mention of v*mit, Led Zeppelin comparisons, Sam’s bare feet

Synopsis: Because I’m trying to not get my hopes up that we’ll get a second part to arguably the best video on the internet, this is how I’d imagine it would play out

Notes: An EXCEPTIONALLY LARGE thank you to @starcatcherkiszka, @jmkho, @writingcold​, @collecting-moons-downstairs​, and the anons for the submissions! Hopefully you (kinda) got your questions answered...

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

The scene opens in an interrogation room that is empty, with the exception of a hooded figure in the corner. Chatter can just barely be heard beyond the large, metal door. The camera is steady. After a few beats, SAM enters the room, his head hung low and his arms in shackles. He shuffles over to the interrogation table and plops into the uncomfortable chair with a sigh, carefully removing his oversized sunglasses and tossing them to the side. He kicks his bare feet up onto the table, revealing a glimpse at his short shorts and dress shirt. He doesn’t seem to notice the hooded figure. Sam is wearing a fake mustache over his real facial hair. 

SAM: Whoo boy, whatta day. 

The door opens once more and DANNY enters, his hands also cuffed. He looks like he just came off the stage from one of their shows, wearing one of his sparkly tops, black pants, white sneakers, and stage makeup. 

DANNY: Hey, Sam. 

SAM: They got you too?

DANNY: We were brought here together. 

SAM: Come here, old pal, let me hug you. 

Danny scrunches his nose like that’s the last thing he wants Sam to do, but he cautiously approaches Sam’s side and lets Sam awkwardly lift his handcuffed hands over Danny’s head and past his shoulders to engulf him in a tight embrace. While this is happening, JOSH kicks the door back open with a loud shout and thunders into the room. Sam and Danny turn back and watch Josh step up to the interrogation table, putting his hands on his hips. Josh is wearing a spacesuit that was very obviously purchased from Party City. He removes his space helmet and poofs back up his curls. 

JOSH: Sorry folks, I was caught in the holding cell because my suit latched onto the prison bed. I got into a really invigorating conversation with a self-proclaimed pyromaniac about the burning of Notre Dame and managed to sneak a swig or two of gin from the police chief when he wasn’t looking. My head is spinning a little because I think the ABV was above 80% but that just means I can’t tell left from right, which is no matter since I normally can’t tell the difference anyways. 

SAM: Where are your handcuffs? 

Josh looks down at his hands, which are entirely freed. 

JOSH: I Houdini’d my way out of them. 

Josh scans around the room. 

JOSH: Is Jake here yet? 

SAM: Nope. 

DANNY: I haven’t seen him. 

JOSH: Huh. 

Josh turns in a circle looking for his twin, to no avail. The door opens again and the three men turn to see a detective enter the room. DETECTIVE ACE is a hard looking man who has obviously seen some shit over the years. He’s carrying a steaming cup of coffee and an especially delectable donut that Josh can’t help but lick his lips at. Detective Ace motions for them all to sit back at the table. Sam and Danny struggle to untangle themselves from their complicated hug. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Morning, gentlemen. Let me lay down some ground rules here: I’ve got a lot of questions that I’m gonna need you to answer. Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, which I’m sure you understand, but I want you to know that we’ll all be better off if you answer openly and honestly so we can crack down on this. Capiche? 

Josh, Sam, and Danny all silently shrug. That seems to be enough for Detective Ace. He looks across the table at the three and then squints. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Isn’t there supposed to be another one of you? 

JOSH: He’ll be here, he’s usually late. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Where could he possibly be? We’ve been keeping you all in a holding cell for the past twelve hours. 

SAM: Jake’s never been on time in his life. We should get started. He’ll come when he comes. 

DETECTIVE ACE: I feel like I should be more concerned about that, but okay. Let’s get this thing going. 

JOSH: Yes, why don’t we have a ball, huh? Let’s have a ball. 

Sam reaches up and strokes his fake mustache, which Danny notices for the first time. Danny lets out a short choke and quickly holds his hands up to his mouth to suppress his laugh. Sam beams at Danny’s reaction. 

DETECTIVE ACE: First things first, do you prefer tea or coffee?

DANNY: How kind of you to offer. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Just answer the question, son. 

DANNY: Coffee. 

SAM: (leaning to whisper to Danny) Less talkie, more coffee. 

DANNY: (under breath) Don’t remind me. 

JOSH: I actually prefer to mix the two together to see how much caffeine I can fill into my fleshly form in one go. 

SAM: Caffeine gives me the shits. I prefer kombucha. 

JOSH: Dude, kombucha is tea. 

SAM: No way. 

DANNY: What did you think you were drinking? 

SAM: (whispering) Spicy water? 

Danny holds his head in his hands and shakes his head. Sam looks between Danny and Josh, his eyes wide. 

SAM: How do you both know what kombucha is? 

DANNY: Have you really never read the bottle? 

DETECTIVE ACE: (clears throat) Next question. This one is for Daniel: the chaos of the Kiszka brothers must get to you. Have you ever reached your limit? If so, what was the event that caused you to break? And finally, what was your retribution?

DANNY: Hmmm. 

JOSH: Don’t say anything too incriminating, Daniel. 

DANNY: I’ve definitely come close. Especially when we were younger, you know, in the garage band days, they would butt heads a lot. There were times when I was tempted to storm back to my house after hearing Jake and Josh argue for what felt like hours on end. But I don’t know, I’ve spent a lot of my life with them, I guess I’m kind of used to it. Even when they’re being absolute menaces out in public, it’s never made me break. 

SAM: What about Amsterdam? 

DANNY: Oh, wait, yeah, I did reach my breaking point in Amsterdam. 

DETECTIVE ACE: What happened in Amsterdam? 

Danny winces and looks at Sam and Josh to see if he should keep talking. Sam nods. Josh is too busy messing around with the straps on his spacesuit to notice Danny’s glance. 

DANNY: It was a few years ago. We were going to play at a festival, but before the gig we went to one of those, uh, coffee shops and got our fill, I guess you could say. Jake and Josh got pretty cocky after that and started to hound me about how I needed to put more force into my hi-hat or some shit like that, which I really didn’t want to hear. That was tearing me down, but then I turned around and saw that Sam was jumping into the canal, entirely clothed. After I ran down to the side of the canal to try and help Sam, Jake pushed me in as well. When I got out, I immediately told them I quit the band and stormed back to our hotel. 

SAM: He was on stage with us three hours later. 

DANNY: Yeah, so they really didn’t face too much retribution there. 

JOSH: We deserved it, though. Poor, poor Daniel. 

DETECTIVE ACE takes a sip from his coffee and then looks down at his notepad. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Okay, I need a statement on your friend, Oliver Reed. Is he really dead? 

The hooded figure, who has been standing in the corner entirely motionless, quickly stirs and then leaps forward with a loud “YAR!” making everyone in the room jump. The hooded figure tears off the cloak in an impressive swoop, revealing OLIVER REED with his beard longer than ever. 

OLIVER REED: OLIVER FFFFFUCKING REED LIVES IN THE SPIRITUAL REALM NOW, BUT HIS SOUL IS STILL ALIVE AND WELL. THE DEVIL HAS GRANTED ME AN HOUR ABOVE GROUND TO VISIT OLD FRIENDS, ENEMIES, AND LOVERS. 

SAM: Oh my god, Oliver Reed is alive! 

OLIVER REED: (growling) What did eye jus say, boy? Yew got no fffffucking ears on you? I’m fuckin dead, my bleeding ghost is here to tie up some loose ends. 

JOSH: How much time do you have left before the devil takes you back, Oliver? 

Oliver Reed grunts and reaches into his back pocket to study his phone. 

OLIVER REED: Six minutes, it looks like. 

DANNY: What were you doing in those other fifty-four minutes? 

Oliver Reed grabs a cigar and matches out of his vest pocket and lights it, taking a big puff. Then, he starts to laugh at first softly, and then louder and louder. 

DANNY: Nevermind, I don’t want to know. 

OLIVER REED: Yew know, I talk a lot with Ernest Hemmingway down under, he’s a class act, he is. He can nearly outdrink me. Nearly, though. Ay’ve still got ‘im there. One time we ‘ad a drink off with this shit the devil brews, it’s called a Soul Sucker, aye think. It’s straight shit and maybe a little motor oil. Well, I rolled me sleeves up, rubbed me hands together, and grabbed ‘at big ol’ bottle and chugged it like it was a glass o’ water. And Ernest told me, he said, ‘Oliver, boy, you need to slow down’ to which I said, ‘actually, when yew go too fast, don’t slow down, yer gonna crash.’ Ernest said that was a bloody brilliant quote, and he was going to add it to his new novel, about sexual pleasure and the majesty of the seed. 

SAM: Okay, thank you, Oliver. 

OLIVER REED: I’m not done yet. 

DANNY: (to Detective Ace) Please ask us another question before he starts talking again. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Oh, um (clears throat) Okay. Would you rather be locked in a room with one cockroach the size of a medium dog or 100 regular cockroaches? 

Oliver Reed pulls off his sunglasses and bends over to be at eye level with Detective Ace, who is still sitting at the interrogation table. Oliver’s eyes are piercing, and they are terrifying. Detective Ace recoils back in his seat a bit. 

OLIVER REED: Wot the bloody ‘ell kind of question is ‘at? Cockroaches? Cockroaches?! Well, aye know a thing or two about cocks and I know a thing or two about roaches - 

SAM: (cutting Oliver Reed off) Oh GOD. 

OLIVER REED: So aye guess ay’d ‘ave to say the giant cock would do fer me. I don’t think aye could wrap me head ‘round a hundred o’ those peckers. 

Sam slams his head into the interrogation table with a groan. Danny is quick to make sure that Sam didn’t give himself a concussion. 

DANNY: (to Sam) How many fingers am I holding up? 

OLIVER REED: HE’S HOLDIN’ THREE, AYE ‘AVEN’T HAD ‘AT MUCH TO DRINK YET, I CAN STILL SEE STRAIGHT. 

Danny: I wasn’t talking to you, Oliver. 

SAM: Three. 

Danny throws his hands in the air, giving up. Josh is silent, thinking especially hard about the cockroach question. 

JOSH: I think I would take one hundred small ones. 

OLIVER REED: Go and gettem, boy! That’s what Ernest says. If yew’ve got the stamina, by all means. 

JOSH: I think I could domesticate them and get them to follow me around. Think of how cool it would be to have a hundred cockroaches near you at all times. 

SAM: (peering up at Josh as his head still rests on the table) Literally no one would find that cool. Except you, apparently. 

JOSH: I’d give them all names and take care of them. 

DANNY: Well, that makes me feel bad. I was gonna say I’d take a big one because it would be easier to kill in one go. Sure, it would take some muscle power and probably be traumatizing, but I’d rather know where the cockroach was at all times than be guessing where all the tiny ones are. 

SAM: I ate a cockroach once when I was a kid. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Moving on, Danny, I need to clear something up with you: which Hogwarts house are you in? 

SAM: Oh shit, yeah, we never found that out in our last video because you didn’t want me sitting on your head in my underwear. 

DANNY: Can you blame me?

OLIVER REED: HUFFLEPUFF! 

JOSH: (to Oliver Reed) No, buddy, we’re talking about Daniel here. 

OLIVER REED: Did I fffffucking stutter? 

DANNY: I would say I’m a Ravenclaw. 

SAM: Not Gryffindor? 

DANNY: Nope, I never felt like I would fit in there. I was always pretty studious in school while you guys were the ones causing trouble. 

JOSH: You call it trouble, I call it freedom. 

DANNY: You call lighting a trashcan in the teacher’s parking lot freedom? 

JOSH: Absolutely. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Are you afraid of the dark?

DANNY: Yes. 

SAM: No. 

JOSH: (squinting) Why? 

OLIVER REED: When yer dead, the darkness becomes yew. It’s somethin’ yew can’t fear unless yew want to fear yerself, which I wouldn’t recommend, because then yew start to lose yer sense of self and decay into a shell of who yew once were. 

JOSH: Okay, yes, I am afraid of the dark. 

OLIVER REED: Don’t be, it can’t hurt yew. 

Oliver Reed’s face suddenly pales and he throws his hands up to cover his head, letting out a terrified squawk. 

JOSH: (abruptly standing to his feet) What? What’s wrong? 

OLIVER REED: My time is up. The devil is here for me. He brings the darkness.

Oliver Reed is staring directly at Sam. 

SAM: Dude, I’m not the devil. 

OLIVER REED: Tell yer mother I said ‘elloooooooooooooooooooo 

Oliver Reed crumples into a ball on the floor Wicked Witch of the West-style, out of sight of the camera, presumably back down to hell. Some smoke rises from the floor. 

JOSH: You know, for all of his flaws, he is a fun guy to be around. 

DANNY: He stresses me out. 

A knock sounds on the door. Detective Ace springs to his feet and opens the door, revealing JAKE, who is wearing his infamous straw hat, paired with a black t-shirt that reads “babygirl” in an italic font. 

JAKE: Sorry I’m late. 

Jake steps into the room and grabs a seat beside Josh, giving him a hearty pat on the back. 

JOSH: You just missed Oliver Reed. 

JAKE: Really? Darn, that’s too bad. We can never seem to cross paths. Maybe one of these days. 

SAM: You probably just have to say “shit” three times and put a bottle of whiskey out to get him back. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Speaking of shit, is there any chance you guys will do a ‘Behind the Shit’ series for YouTube?

JAKE: (whispering to Josh) Wait, why are we in the slammer? 

JOSH: (whispering back) Identity theft.

SAM: We do have the title trademarked, but we’re unfortunately legally barred from sharing any insider details about our upcoming promotional material for our new album. 

JAKE: What a mature answer to that question, Sammy Boy. The media training is finally sticking. 

Sam blows Jake a raspberry. 

DANNY: We’re lucky to have a great social media team that catches some of our best and, well, not-so-best moments to share with our fans. I think it’s important to let our audience see that we have depth to us beyond our stage personas. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Fair enough. What do your fans have to do to hear “The Barbarians” live?

JOSH: So, what they’re gonna do is they’re gonna grab their checkbook, write me a number with a lot of zeros in it, and sign their name at the bottom.

JAKE: We played Barbarians not too long ago, didn’t we? 

SAM: I think there’s a high demand that we make it a regular. 

DANNY: It’s that guitar part, Jake. They can’t get enough of it. 

JAKE: Well, that’s more than enough to stroke my god complex. I say we play it every show, boys. 

Sam notices Jake’s shirt for the first time. 

SAM: Babygirl??

JAKE: Huh? (looks down at shirt) Oh, yeah. Like it? 

SAM: I thought I was the baby? 

JAKE: You’re so baby. It’s different. 

SAM: Wha- how? 

DANNY: He’s right. 

With a grunt, Danny removes his own shirt, revealing that he’s wearing a babygirl shirt as well. Sam gapes at his friend. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Is Daniel a Sephora VIB Rouge member yet? 

JOSH: What’s that? 

SAM: I think it stands for “Very Important Bitch.” In which case, yes, he is a VIB member. 

DANNY: (softly) I do have a Sephora member card. 

JAKE: Wait, really? 

DANNY: It made a lot of sense financially. Plus they send me cool stuff every month, so it’s something to look forward to. 

JAKE: (throwing himself back in his chair) Huh. 

DANNY: I got an eyeliner pencil I think you’d like. You can have it. 

JAKE: (softly, to Danny) Yes please. 

SAM: Can I get something? 

DANNY: Sure. 

Danny fumbles around in his pockets like he’s looking for something. Sam watches him with interest. Danny lifts his hand back up from his pocket, shooting Sam the bird. Sam immediately pouts. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Can we expect any new musical instruments on the album?

JOSH: You can anticipate a lot of evolved sonic elements. With Starcatcher, we wanted to challenge ourselves and expand our sound into something that somehow feels even larger than life than The Battle at Gardens Gate. Each song should transport you to a different time, place, and frame of mind. 

JAKE: Yeah, there is a lot more experimentation happening for this album, extending even beyond the instruments we use. A lot of it lies in the production as well, which we put a lot of thought into. We’re at the point in our musical journey where it’s almost like we’re at a crossroads: do we continue developing a sound that we’ve already created, or do we move in a new direction? It’s an exciting question to face, and I guess you’ll learn the answer soon. 

SAM: You guys are talking all big about new sounds and shit, but we never reached the Beach Boys-level of experimentation, using celery as a musical instrument. 

JOSH: Sam’s still upset that we didn’t let him play the zucchini on one of our tracks.

SAM: There was potential there, and you know it. 

DANNY: Not when you’re using that zucchini as a bow on your bass. It sounded like ass. 

SAM: You shut it down before I could figure it out. I was onto something, I swear! 

Jake, Josh, and Danny all turn to Detective Ace and very evidently mouth to him at the same time, “he wasn’t.” 

DETECTIVE ACE: (scans notes again) This one looks like something my colleague wrote out. Ummmm, Sammy, when will you shave off your facial hair? Frowny face. 

Sam furrows his brow and stands to his feet, slamming his hands down on the interrogation table with a loud BANG! He glares at Detective Ace and proceeds to rip off his fake mustache, revealing his real mustache underneath. He discards the fake mustache and it lands on the side of Josh’s face so it’s almost like he’s got a single sideburn. Josh’s face contorts into a look of utmost disgust. 

SAM: Does that answer your question? 

DETECTIVE ACE: It definitely doesn’t. 

Sam retrieves another fake mustache from his back pocket and carefully places it on his face. It’s a lot more crooked than his previous fake mustache, and notably bright red. Seemingly content, Sam takes his seat once more. Detective Ace awkwardly clears his throat and shuffles his papers. 

DETECTIVE ACE: This one is for Josh. Would you ever want to pursue acting or directing again outside of your music videos? 

JOSH: Mayhaps. 

JAKE: You did not just say “mayhaps.”

JOSH: Mayhaps I did. 

Jake shakes his head in disbelief. 

JOSH: I’m genuinely distraught that I didn’t get a casting call for the new Barbie movie. But I am relieved that Christopher Nolan didn’t reach out about Oppenheimer. I don’t think I could work with Josh Peck. 

SAM: Right, you couldn’t handle there being another, more successful, Josh on set. 

DANNY: Is Josh Peck really that successful? 

SAM: (gesturing back at Josh) More than this idiot. 

JOSH: (ignoring Sam) I’ve tried writing some stuff over the years and, I don’t know, there are some projects I’d like to pursue, but right now music is in the forefront of my mind. We’ve got some momentum that I don’t want to tamper with. 

JAKE: Thank god for that. 

JOSH: I do want to make a loose adaptation of The Wizard of Oz though, where they join a cult in the woods with the apple tree men. Maybe they’d sacrifice Toto or something, I don’t know. I think it could be a good opportunity to provide commentary on the People’s Temple Church. Is that controversial to say? I don’t know. 

SAM: It’s stupid to say, that’s what it is. 

JOSH: Some people just aren’t ready for big ideas. 

DANNY: (under his breath) The last thing we need is another Wizard of Oz adaptation. No one can beat what the Muppets did. 

DETECTIVE ACE: I think I’ve heard enough about the cults. So, why do you all hate Tumblr?

JOSH: What’s a Tumblr? 

JAKE: I think it’s that thing that you put drinks in. 

JOSH: Oh. 

SAM: It’s a social media site. And no, we don’t hate it. 

DANNY: I thought it wasn’t around anymore. 

SAM: (a little too quickly) No, it’s around. 

Danny whirls around to study Sam. Their eyes dance about as if they’re having a telepathic conversation. Danny leans closer into Sam’s side. 

DANNY: (just barely audible) Why are you on Tumblr? 

SAM: I like reading fanfiction on the bus. It’s really entertaining. 

DANNY: About us? 

SAM: We’ll talk about it later. 

JOSH: (repeating himself) What’s a Tumblr? 

JAKE: I don’t hate anything. 

DANNY: You hate geese. 

JAKE: Oh shit, yeah. (through grit teeth) I fuckin hate geese. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Are you going to revive your band’s Tumblr account? 

SAM: (perking up) We have a band account? 

DANNY: Based on that reaction, I think it’s safe to say there will be some activity there soon. 

DETECTIVE ACE: (nodding) What is your go-to cereal? 

JOSH: (giving his signature chuckle) I’m sorry, uh (looks around at his band members) Why is this relevant? 

JAKE: (thoughtfully) You can tell a lot about a person by the cereal they eat. 

JOSH: So, what’s your go-to then, Jakey? 

JAKE: Honey Nut Cheerios. 

JOSH: So basically you’re boring. You’re boring, Jake. 

DANNY: And concerned about his heart health. What about you, Josh? 

JOSH: Easy. Fruit Loops. Raw. 

JAKE: So you like holes. 

JOSH: I could say the same about you, Honey Nut Cheerios are the same shape! 

DANNY: Wait, raw??

JOSH: I don’t need milk. Actually, I can’t have milk with my cereal because it builds up phlegm around my vocal cords. So I eat my cereal raw. 

SAM: I like Lucky Charms, but only the marshmallows. Wait, no, I don’t like cereal. I’m more of an oatmeal guy. 

JOSH: You’re a weird fucker. 

JAKE: So you like to eat vomit?

SAM: It’s delightful with a bit of fruit, you don’t know what you’re talking about! 

JOSH: What’s your choice cereal, Daniel? 

DANNY: I gotta go with Frosted Mini Wheats. They’re a classic. 

JAKE: That’s actually, yeah, okay, that’s a good answer. 

JOSH: I can’t find any faults there. 

SAM: I’m gonna force you to eat oatmeal when we get home. 

JAKE: I’d like to see you try. 

DETECTIVE ACE: What do you do when you can’t sleep at night?

SAM: Eat oatmeal. 

JAKE: I usually can’t sleep at night because I’m so disturbed by the image of Sam eating oatmeal. 

JOSH: I go out and look at the stars and ponder life, death, and the history of time. Usually a nice cup of tea helps me too. And some other, uh, let’s call them supplements. 

DANNY: I listen to my comfort albums. 

SAM: What? Like Billy Squier? 

DANNY: No. Like Rumors and Abbey Road. I’ve had some pretty nasty insomnia over the years, but there’s nothing quite like Fleetwood Mac or the Beatles to ease the mind. 

JAKE: When I can’t sleep, I get so frustrated that I start punching shit. 

JOSH: I once caught him punching the refrigerator at 4am. 

JAKE: It’s cathartic, but it also makes me tired enough that I can fall asleep. I’ve even come up with some guitar riffs over the years while doing it. 

JOSH: Jake wrote the “Built By Nations” solo while he was punching a lawn mower in the middle of the night. 

DANNY: I wish they were joking. 

SAM: One time Jake started punching me when he couldn’t sleep. 

JAKE: I’ve told you, it wasn’t a direct attack, it was just a convenience thing. You were the closest to me and I was half-awake. 

JOSH: This isn’t making us look very good, is it? 

DETECTIVE ACE: You’re a bunch of characters, I can tell you that. Another question, specifically for Sam: did you meet your crush, Hozier, at Shaky Knees? And who has better hair?

SAM: I feel a little bit attacked by that question, Ace. First of all, he’s not my crush. 

DANNY: He’s my crush. 

SAM: That’s right, Danny is head over heels for the guy. He called dibs. Secondly, it’s not fair to compare our hair. 

JAKE: That’s Sammy’s way of admitting that Andrew’s hair is better. 

DANNY: We did get to meet him backstage, even though it was really brief. He’s a great guy, it would be incredible to collaborate with him on something down the road. 

JOSH: His voice is like an angel. And his lyrics? Perfect. He can do no wrong. 

DANNY: Sam’s knees nearly buckled when he first saw him. I had to hold him upright. 

SAM: I thought we agreed that was going to stay between us.

DANNY: Sorry, it felt relevant to mention. 

JAKE: I met Jack Black. It was probably one of the best days of my life. 

JOSH: Did he play you the greatest song in the world? 

JAKE: No, he couldn’t remember the greatest song in the world, he could only play a tribute. 

Jake and Josh share a goofy smile. 

DANNY: Andrew, if you’re watching this, please do a song with me. 

Sam nods his head rapidly. Across the table, Detective Ace’s phone starts to ring. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Sorry, excuse me for one second, I need to take this. 

Detective Ace gets up from his seat and hustles out of the room while answering his phone with a quick, “yello?” The members of Greta Van Fleet sit still in silence, listening to Detective Ace’s footsteps grow softer. Finally, Josh springs to his feet. 

JOSH: Think he’s gone? 

Jake stands as well and peers out the window in the door. 

JAKE: I don’t see him. 

JOSH: Okay, good. We’re breaking out of here. 

SAM: What? Why? He seems nice. 

DANNY: I don’t think that’s a good idea. 

JOSH: I’m like a bird, I need to be free. 

JAKE: I just want to see if we can pull it off. 

DANNY: How do we know there’s not someone behind that two way mirror? 

Danny turns to point at the massive two way mirror that lines the wall in front of them. Jake and Josh study the mirror and then shrug. 

JAKE: If someone’s there, let’s see if they can stop us. 

DANNY: What? No. 

Josh joins Sam’s side and grabs his spacesuit helmet. 

JOSH: Hold still, Samuel. 

SAM: Huh? 

Josh slams his helmet down on Sam’s handcuffs, hitting more of Sam’s hands than the actual handcuffs. Sam starts to holler out in pain, but Josh clamps a hand over his mouth. 

JOSH: Ssshhh, don’t blow our cover, okay? 

SAM: MMMmmmrmph??? 

Josh reaches the helmet back up to give it another go, but Danny grabs his hand to stop him from inflicting anymore pain or damage on Sam. Sam breathes out a sigh of relief. 

JOSH: So maybe we can get the handcuffs off you guys after we escape. 

Behind Josh, Jake grabs a chair from the interrogation table and chucks it at the two way mirror with a shout. The chair comically bounces off the mirror and lands on the floor, shattering into what looks like a million pieces. The mirror is unscathed. 

JAKE: (out of breath) Shit, I really thought that was gonna work. 

Now it’s Josh’s turn: he puts the helmet back on his head, taps it a couple of times for good luck, and hurls himself at the mirror head first. At this exact moment, Detective Ace comes back into the room. 

JAKE: Quick! Everyone act normal! 

Josh is flattened out on the floor. Sam is tending to his hands. Danny is shaking his head in disbelief. Jake tries to block the view of the chair that he absolutely decimated with a wide stance, awkwardly putting his hands on his hips with a large, fake smile. 

DETECTIVE ACE: What the hell is going on here?

Danny crouches down next to Josh and carefully removes his helmet. 

JOSH: (softly) Did we make it out? 

DANNY: Definitely not. 

JOSH: Damn. Better luck next time. 

Danny helps Josh back up to his feet and Josh holds onto him briefly for support before regaining his balance and composure. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Do you want to join me back at the table? 

DANNY: Yep. 

Josh and Danny return to the table and grab their seats again. Detective Ace also sits, leaving Jake standing around, lost, since he destroyed his chair. Jake looks unsure what to do, and then finally opts to try and hold a squat at the table, mimicking sitting in a chair. 

DETECTIVE ACE: (nodding towards Josh) Are you okay? 

Josh shrugs.

SAM: You wouldn’t believe how much head trauma he’s had over the years. 

DETECTIVE ACE: No, I think I would. Are you all ready to continue on with the questioning? I’m sorry for stepping out, the police chief needed to check in about something. 

SAM: Everything okay? 

DETECTIVE ACE: Nothing I can disclose. 

SAM: Fair enough. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Alright. I want to talk about your “Meeting the Master” music video: is there any lore going on there?

DANNY: Yes. 

SAM: Yes. 

JAKE: Yes. 

JOSH: Esyay. 

Everyone abruptly turns to face Josh, who looks back at them in confusion. 

JOSH: Isyay erethay omethingsay ongwray? 

SAM: Oh god, he’s speaking pig latin. 

JAKE: Not again. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Not again? 

Jake stands from his squat with a grunt and a few pops and then shuffles to Josh’s side and turns him around in his chair so they’re face to face. 

JAKE: You gotta snap out of it, Josh. Snap out of it! 

Jake snaps his fingers in front of Josh’s face a few times. Josh has a delayed reaction. 

JAKE: Shit. 

JOSH: Iyay eelfay inefay. 

SAM: I think we should keep him this way. It’s kinda funny. 

DANNY: No one’s gonna know what he’s saying. 

JAKE: Does anyone know what he’s usually saying? 

Danny purses his lips. Jake has a point. 

JOSH: Owhay antsway otay alktay aboutyay ouryay usicmay ideovay? 

DANNY: I got it. There’s definitely a story being told in our “Meeting the Master” music video. I don’t think we should hand you the answer on a silver platter since there’s a lot of rewards that come with analyzing it and forming your own perspective on the message, but we definitely drew inspiration from specific art pieces, old literature, and key pieces of history. 

JAKE: If you look closely, we do a few callbacks to earlier music videos and songs as well. There’s a lot of easter eggs in there. 

SAM: The main lore is those red gloves were really hard to get on and take off. I was about ready to accept that they were going to become a part of me. 

DANNY: That’s not really what lore means, Sam. 

Sam looks like he could care less and focuses his attention on stroking his fake mustache. Detective Ace can’t stop staring at him. 

JOSH: Ethay usicmay ideovay isyay illedfay ithway agicmay, evilyay, andyay ethay owerpay atthay omescay ithway omisingpray impossibleyay ingsthay. Iyay eallyray eelfay ikelay it'syay oneyay ofyay ouryay ostmay ignificantsay andyay elevantray usicmay ideosvay etyay, eoplepay ouldshay aketay isthay asyay ayay arningway andyay asyay anyay opportunityyay otay eflectray onyay eirthay iveslay andyay ethay ecisionsday eythay akemay eachyay ayday. Inyay actfay, iyay ouldway ecommendray atthay - 

JAKE: I can’t do this. 

Jake grabs Josh’s helmet, secures it back on Josh’s head, grabs him around the waist, and chucks him into the mirror once more, head first. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Oh. 

Danny springs to his feet in shock. 

DANNY: Jake! 

JAKE: (down to Josh, who is on the floor again) Better? 

Josh groans and rolls around so he’s on his back and pulls off his helmet. 

JOSH: Je ne peux pas croire que tu viens de me jeter comme ça. (I can’t believe you just threw me like that) 

Jake hoists Josh up once more and slams his helmeted head against the mirror. 

JAKE: (out of breath) Now? 

JOSH: I think so. 

JAKE: Thank fuckin god. 

Josh and Jake return to the table. Jake swoops in to steal Josh’s seat before he can sit, leaving Josh standing behind Jake, Danny, and Sam while scratching at the back of his head. 

DANNY: (to Josh) Are you okay? 

JOSH: I’ve had worse. 

DETECTIVE ACE: I’ll ease you back in with a simpler question. How many pairs of shoes do you have? 

SAM: None. 

Sam leans back in his chair, kicks his feet up, and slams them down on the table, revealing his bare dogs. Detective Ace’s cup of lukewarm coffee is spilled in the process, forming a puddle around Danny’s discarded top that he shed earlier. 

DANNY: Aw man. 

Beside Danny, Jake is counting on his fingers while staring up at the ceiling in deep concentration. 

JAKE: I would approximate about six. But I really only wear three pairs on the regular. 

JOSH: (teasing with a callback) He keeps his pumps in the back of the closet for special occasions. 

Jake scowls in Josh’s direction. 

DANNY: I probably own too many shoes. I should donate some. 

JOSH: Yeah, donate them to Sam, please. 

SAM: I lied, I do own a pair of shoes. Actually, maybe two. Or three. 

JOSH: Will there be any consequences if I give an incorrect answer? I genuinely don’t know. 

DETECTIVE ACE: You can give an estimate. 

JOSH: Between 0-50. 

JAKE: He is a diva, you know. And divas need their shoes. 

JOSH: I mostly have sneakers, nothing fancy. I need something that’s easy to slip out of, you know, not too confining. 

SAM: Gotta let the dogs breathe! 

DETECTIVE ACE: Moving on from the feet, would you ever consider doing meet and greets again?

DANNY: Ummmmmm…

SAM: I don’t really like the idea of people paying to meet us. I mean, we really aren’t that great. 

JAKE: That’s your opinion. 

SAM: I’d rather meet fans naturally, while we’re out and about. It’s a lot more intimate that way, a lot less pressure. If you see me, buy me a drink and I’ll be your best friend. 

DANNY: I do agree with that. I mean, I value my privacy, but I don’t want to have some super commercialized meet and greet where you take a picture with me, give me a hug, and then walk away a hundred bucks poorer. 

SAM: At the end of the day, we’re just human. Treat us that way. 

JOSH: I have nothing to add to that. 

Josh reaches into a pocket in his spacesuit and retrieves a bag of red rhinestones and a bottle of glue. Detective Ace eyes him cautiously, but Josh doesn’t notice. He’s too busy tearing into the packaging and opening his glue. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Do you believe in love at first sight?

Josh places dots of glue on his cheeks and quickly covers them with the red rhinestones, looking as if he has a case of extra sparkly chicken pox. He doesn’t stop there though: Josh continues to mindlessly add the rhinestones to his face until it’s becoming challenging to see his bare skin. 

JAKE: (sincerely) I think it does.

SAM: I fell in love with my bass the first time I saw it, does that count? 

JOSH: (while still adding rhinestones to his face) Love is a delightful, innocent, beautiful thing. You really never know where it’s going to take you, but it’s around us all the time. Sure, it can be challenging to spot out at times, but I think it does have the power to strike you immediately, without necessarily knowing someone. It’s a part of human nature to love, and be loved. 

Danny is too busy watching Josh turn himself into the personification of Dorothy’s slippers to answer the question. Detective Ace takes Danny’s silence as a cue to move on to his next question. Before he can, though, Josh clears his throat and nods towards the door. Every square inch of his face is now covered in rhinestones. 

JOSH: Can I use the gents? 

DETECTIVE ACE: By all means. 

Josh hustles out of the room. 

JAKE: He’s all about his theatrics, never a dull moment with that one. 

Danny ducks underneath the table and seems to be fussing around with something. Sam leans over to ask if he needs help, and then Danny motions for him to join him under the table, which Sam does with a laugh. This leaves only Jake sitting at the table, staring at Detective Ace with a blank look. Detective Ace looks back at him. Jake doesn’t appear to be blinking. After a frankly unnerving amount of time staring back and forth at each other, Sam pops his head back out from under the table, no longer wearing his red mustache. Danny comes out as well and is wearing a long, straight, brunette wig, a fake beard, and a bucket hat, his stage makeup entirely wiped off. His babygirl shirt has been swapped for a button up top that looks straight out of the seventies. He takes a seat back in his chair and pulls out a pair of drumsticks, which he twirls around. Shortly afterwards, Josh re-enters the interrogation room with his face scrubbed clean of the rhinestones. He’s wearing a long, blonde, curly wig and his Elle Fernanda glasses. 

ELLE FERNANDA: The line in that bathroom was a-trocious! 

SAM: Elle Fernanda? To what do I owe the pleasure?

ELLE FERNANDA: I was just in town, looking around for a new chunky candamera, and I wandered in here. I saw some nice donuts in the window from the street. 

DANNY: (in a jarring British accent) Would you like to join us? 

ELLE FERNANDA: Well, you seem like a very polite gentleman. I’ll happily take a seat and settle for a little bit to rest my feet. 

Elle Fernanda approaches Jake and clears her throat. Jake looks up at her and Elle Fernanda motions that he get out of her seat. Jake looks like he really doesn’t want to, but he stands and backs away from the table. 

ELLE FERNANDA: Thank you, darling. 

DETECTIVE ACE: We were answering some questions, if you don’t mind. 

ELLE FERNANDA: Oh, please, go ahead, I’ll try not to be a bother. 

Elle Fernanda adjusts the glasses on her face and reaches into her purse, retrieving a nail file which she starts using on her fingers. 

ELLE FERNANDA: I wish I had some sticked-ons with me. They’d make my hands look really nice today. 

DANNY: (still British) Red would look pretty. 

ELLE FERNANDA: This young man gets it, he really does! 

DETECTIVE ACE: Returning back to the questioning, if you had to get a tattoo right now, what would you get and where? 

ELLE FERNANDA: Are you offering? If you pay, I’d get one now. 

DETECTIVE ACE: No, it’s a, uh, hypothetical question. 

ELLE FERNANDA: Shame. 

JAKE: Easy, “Cream” above my buttcrack. 

Elle Fernanda raises a hand up to her chest in shock. 

ELLE FERNANDA: My word! 

SAM: I’d probably get my dog’s paw print somewhere, I don’t know, maybe on the bottom of my foot or something. 

JAKE: That sounds fucking painful. 

SAM: It would be sentimental. 

ELLE FERNANDA: A little bit cliche too. 

DANNY: (still British) Maybe the Ludwig logo. Or the Borromean rings. 

Detective Ace squints at Danny. Danny is unbothered by this. 

ELLE FERNANDA: I would get something sweet, like a flow-ah, or, or, maybe a strawberry or something. 

SAM: Where would you put your tattoo, Elle? 

ELLE FERNANDA: A lady never tells. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Now, will the sword make more appearances? 

JAKE: I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for you to ask! 

Jake hops on top of the interrogation table with ease and, seemingly out of nowhere, unsheathes his infamous sword, holding it up towards the ceiling in a pose very similar to Luke Skywalker on the Star Wars: A New Hope poster. Elle takes one look at the sword, lets out a shrill shriek, and books it out of the room. Jake seems to be energized by this since he swings the sword around a couple of times, calling out with glee. 

SAM: Jake, get down from there! 

Jake is unbelievably lost in the moment. 

JAKE: Land ho! Treasure ahead, me hearties, we’ll be rich in no time! All we have to do is cross the crocodile-infested swamp and sneak into the cave of shadows and then we’ll be in piles of gold up to our elbows! Yarrrrr! 

DANNY: (still British) Will we run into Moby Dick on our way? 

JAKE: Argh, no whales with phallic names, me boy, only reptiles with a bloodlust like you wouldn’t believe! But we’ll cut and slash through them like they’re jelly! 

Jake continues flinging the sword around which causes Sam to finally step in, carefully joining Jake on top of the table and snatching the sword out of his hand. 

SAM: (scolding) I thought we agreed to keep this thing locked up.

JAKE: (snapping out of his pirate fantasy) Sorry I want to have fun from time to time. 

SAM: (under breath) No need to go shanking people at a police precinct. 

Josh returns back to the room, still donning the long, curly, blonde wig. From the doorway, he carefully steps out of his spacesuit, revealing a blue floral mini-robe that’s open to expose his chest. He’s also wearing an impressive pair of flare jeans. 

JOSH: (also British) Sorry, this older woman was making quite the fuss in the front, going off about someone with a sword? She was in hysterics. 

JAKE: Oops. 

Josh takes a seat beside Danny and gives him a quick fist bump. 

JOSH: John. 

DANNY: Robert. 

DETECTIVE ACE: (looking increasingly skeptical about the scene unfolding in front of him) Can you tell me the song that was most popular the year you were born? 

DANNY: Twelfth Street Rag. 

JOSH: Same. 

SAM: (now also British, albeit with a poor accent) Prisoner of Love. Great tune.

Everyone looks to Jake for his response, but he is no longer at the table. Detective Ace rises to his feet to scan around the room. After Detective Ace turns in half a circle, Jake pops his head out from under the table. He’s wearing a dark, curly mane of a wig on his head and his dragon suit. 

JAKE: (British, but a bit different than Oliver Reed) Swinging On A Star. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Okay…What’s a conspiracy you believe in?

SAM: The moon landing was a complete hoax. 

JAKE: (British) Well, detective, you see, this might come across as a bit outlandish, but I believe that there is a band of young men out in Michigan who are copying our every move in order to find success as rock musicians. 

Detective Ace springs to his feet with a new surge of energy. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Aha! 

Detective Ace fumbles around with a walkie talkie in his euphoria. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Sergeant? Yes, I got them. 

JOSH: (to Jake) Nice one. 

JAKE: It was bound to slip at some point. 

Four cops hustle into the room and secure handcuffs around Jake and Josh’s wrists. Sam and Danny each get an additional pair of handcuffs around their wrists just because. 

DETECTIVE ACE: You four are charged with identity theft, for posing as the original members of the band, Led Zeppelin. 

SAM: That’s absurd! We’d never! 

DANNY: Yeah, that’s bogus, man! 

DETECTIVE ACE: Take them into processing, I’ve got a lot of paperwork to fill out. 

JOSH: This is all just a big misunderstanding, we’re our own people! Are we not allowed to take inspiration from a revolutionary band? Maybe we just have similar interests and perspectives about things! 

DETECTIVE ACE: Save it for the judge, buddy. 

JOSH: Wait until my lawyer hears about this! 

JAKE: (whispering) We don’t have a lawyer. 

JOSH: Shit!! How have we made it this far?

JAKE: Luck. A lot of luck. 

The cops escort Sam, Danny, Jake, and Josh out of the room. Josh is the last to leave, but he sticks his head back into the room one last time. 

JOSH: AND I WOULD HAVE GOTTEN AWAY WITH IT TOO IF IT WEREN’T FOR YOU MEDDLING KIDS! 

The cop drags Josh back out into the hallway and the door slams shut, leaving Detective Ace alone in the room. He studies the discarded chairs and mess in front of him and shakes his head in disbelief. In silence he lights a cigarette and takes a long drag, looking thoughtful. 

DETECTIVE ACE: Were my questions addressed? Yes, but at what cost? 

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Can I request a Shane and Molly holiday sickfic where they’re trying to celebrate but then they both get sick?

Words: 1367

Title: We'll Share A Cup Of Kindness Yet

Hey hi hello anon and thanks for the request. This suited my current, continued need for small drabble prompts perfectly, and as soon as I read this cute post by @sickromancer, I immediately thought of my favorite medical couple and this prompt, and here we are. Glad I could get this out before the end of the official holiday season. Sorry if you guys are sick of Christmas stuff. That was the holiday that worked best with my vision for this. This may not quite be what you asked for in the prompt, but I think it speaks to the intention anyway. I wrote this in like an hour and it’s barely proofread, so forgive any errors, and also forgive the ending since I couldn’t figure out where to stop it. It is also so sappy and sickly sweet, but that’s all I ever want to write for Shmolly. So warning for that I guess lol. 

This house party was standing room only, so everyone was forced into a perpetual state of milling around, snacking and small talking. Events like this were Molly’s worst nightmare, and it was so full here that there was no hope of finding a corner in which to hide even for a little bit. To make matters worse, Molly was also sick. It had been coming on for a few days, but only those who knew her best had been able to tell until recently. It had progressed to being visible to the rest of the world less than eight hours ago, and the timing of this fancy Christmas party couldn’t be worse in that regard. 

Sarah, Molly’s best work friend, lingered near the dark-haired woman, ready to swoop in and intervene if Molly started to get that uncomfortable, panicky look her friend knew all too well. Sarah was only here because Molly had asked her to be, and Molly was only here because Shane had asked her to be. However, since Shane was busy playing the role of ‘charismatic up-and-coming young doctor’ elsewhere in the house, someone had to keep an eye on Molly and keep her from going crazy. Molly was fine for now, though, chatting with the hostess about books. In fact Sarah wished someone would swoop in and save her instead. With nothing better to do, she listened idly to Molly’s conversation, nibbling the food from her tiny plate.

“I’ve actually been on a classics kick lately, reading and rereading those books from those ‘Books You Need to Read Before You Die’ lists. I just read The Alchemist for the first time and found it really interesting,” Molly was saying happily, though Sarah heard her audibly sniffling. “I really loved– sorry, just a moment…” Molly turned away awkwardly, dabbing at her nose and giving a half-hearted blow in an attempt to do damage control while doing her best not to spoil her makeup. “Sorry, I think I’m coming down with something. Me and the rest of the world, right? Just in time for Christmas.”

The hostess laughed merrily. “Jim just got over a cold a day or two ago too. It’s that time of year unfortunately, and health care workers take the brunt of it. But back to the classics, I also loved the Alchemist. Such a simple story, yet he managed to impart so much depth and meaning.”

Sarah sighed, tuning out again. Molly was clearly settling in for a long chat, rhinovirus and all. Good for her. It was dull to listen to people talk about books you’ve never read, however. By now her plate was empty, so Sarah began to maneuver her way back to the kitchen for something else to snack on, and maybe some punch. 

In the kitchen, she ran into none other than Shane, almost literally. He was standing in the doorway, talking loudly to some other young doctors, all of them holding cocktails. Shane of course had the floor, and Sarah didn’t have time to catch what he was talking about before he paused suddenly, then lurched forward into a muffled sneeze, crushed into the napkin he was holding. He sprang up as the others chuckled, scrubbing at his nose.

“... and I have a fucking cold,” he groaned, clearly playing up his misery for the laughs. Sarah couldn’t help but laugh too, slipping past them on her way to the punch bowl. So that’s where Molly had caught her cold. Or had it been the other way around? That was one of the few benefits of being single, Sarah thought to herself as she loaded up another tiny plate. At least there wasn’t anyone to swap germs with constantly. 

~~~

The party had ended, they had dropped Sarah off at her apartment, and Shane and Molly had made their way back to the condo. Shane had gone immediately to the bedroom to remove his tie and stiff shirt and shoes. He expected Molly to be right behind him, but when he had fully changed into pajamas and she still hadn’t joined him, he went in search of her. 

His lovely wife hadn’t made it out of the living room and was instead sitting on the arm of the couch, staring at the Christmas tree, the twinkling lights illuminating the otherwise dark room, sparkling and shimmering off of everything, especially her glittery red dress. It was a breathtaking sight, and Shane had to be a part of it. He padded to her side and looped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his embrace willingly, though she didn’t take her eyes off the tree. 

“Whatcha thinkin’, love?” he murmured, his lips brushing her hair. 

“I’m thinking that I’m actually starting to like holidays again thanks to you,” she said, her voice almost as hoarse and gravelly as his. She turned to look at him with a tired-eyed smile, the dim light somehow accenting her red, chapped nose, which also matched what he had seen in the mirror. “I’m thinking I love string lights. We should put them up year round. And I’m thinking I really, really hate colds.”

How could she say so much in so few words? Shane could only marvel at her, unsure whether to laugh or cry. He settled for a soft chuckle, but the sound caught in his throat and became a cough instead, which somehow covered both bases nicely. “Yes to the year round string lights. And I’m sorry I gave you my cold.” In a fluid motion, he pulled her onto his lap and took her place on the couch arm, wrapping his arms around her securely. “And I’m honored that I get to spend the rest of my life helping you like holidays again. It’s a responsibility I will never take for granted.” 

The last part was whispered into her ear as she nuzzled her cheek against his. They remained just like that for a long time, their breathing in sync, letting the peace of the moment wash over them. 

However, eventually their shared cold demanded attention once more. Shane freed one of his arms to dig in his pocket for a tissue, pressing it to his nose just in time to stifle a sneezing fit, taking great care to avoid sneezing directly on the woman in his lap. 

“Bless you, hon,” Molly murmured once he was finished, kissing his cheek. 

“Thanks,” he sniffled, scrubbing the back of his hand under his nose since the tissue was now useless. “I hope we didn’t pass this along to anyone at the party.”

“I hope so too,” Molly sighed. “It just figures. This is the first time I’ve gone to a Christmas party in years, and I have a cold, which I probably ended up giving to the hospital CFO’s wife.”

“If you did it won’t set in for a few days, meaning she won’t be sick for Christmas. Unlike us.” He checked his watch. “Speaking of which… Merry Christmas, baby.” 

“Merry Christmas.” They shared a tender kiss. 

When they broke apart, Molly was smiling mischievously. “Whatever Christmas present you got me better be pretty damn good to make up for this awful gift you already gave me,”

“First of all, I always get you amazing presents. So yes, your Christmas present is pretty damn good. But secondly, you knew I was getting sick a few days ago and you still kept kissing me like you always do. I think that means the blame falls totally on you. And this gift isn’t all bad anyway. We get to cancel all the plans we want to for the next few days and stay home in our pajamas. Sounds pretty good to me.”

“You know what… you make a good point.” Molly dug out her own tissue just then, wiping and blowing her nose thoroughly. “I miss being able to breathe through my nose, though.”

“Me too. Maybe Christmas hot chocolate will help.”

“Hot chocolate always helps. And I can’t think of a better way to spend the midnight between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. It's very Auld Lang Syne.” 

“All for you, my dear,” Shane murmured, brushing his lips over her ear once more. 

[piqued-curiosity]

What would you say being GNC is? I saw your post about butch/femme and I do agree that many people treat it like some sort of gender role but for lesbians.

I've seen people talk about GNC lesbians but I haven't really seen people explain? Can you be GNC if you don't wear make-up and don't shave but do wear earrings and comfortable dresses?

Personally I only wear comfortable clothing and shoes. Whether those are hiking shoes or shoes with a small square heel, or trousers or a comfy dress. I don't wear foundation but I have tinted lipbalm and when I still used make-up I only ever used a bit of eyeshadow. I used to have very short hair but now it's long because I constantly had to go to the hairdresser, and it's less hassle to just let it grow for me.

Like, I understand wearing dresses and having long hair is considered gender conforming... but do you get what I mean? Can you only be GNC if you dress "masculine"?

I think it’s a very relative term that’s going to vary based on personal experience.

For example, a woman who grew up in a family and community that wasn’t so strict about gender roles, might not feel like she’s not conforming when she doesn’t wear makeup, doesn’t shave, and wears a suit. If she’s gone her whole life never being challenged for this, it makes sense that it would just be normal to her and she wouldn’t consider it GNC.

On the flip side, a woman who grew up in an environment that harshly enforced gender roles, might feel like she’s not conforming by doing even the smallest thing, like not wearing makeup, or wearing pants instead of a skirt, or cutting her hair. Because of her upbringing, any one action that rebels against what was enforced will feel like an act of non-conformity, and she might refer to herself as GNC because of that.

I also think it’s a hard thing to measure, because there’s so many individual things that can be considered GNC, and then mixed and matched. On the surface; not wearing makeup, not wearing “feminine” clothes, having short hair, etc. Below the surface: being assertive, being confident, not making yourself small for others, etc. So what do we do with that? Do we treat it like a DSM diagnosis and say “you need to be doing at least [X number] of these before calling yourself GNC”? Do we not do that, and call even the most gender-conforming woman GNC because she wore pants?

And yes, I absolutely get what you mean. Personally, I’m kind of like you where I conform in some areas, but don’t conform in others. I’m comfortable in tights and a t-shirt, which I consider very neutral, I can’t really call it “feminine” or GNC because it’s just what I’ve always been comfortable in, with no gender roles attached. I don’t shave, I don’t wear makeup. Everyone can agree those aspects of me are GNC (especially my mother who is not happy about it lol). I’m loud, confident, and I at least try to be assertive. That’s considered by most to be GNC. I’m working on other similar areas, like the habit of saying “sorry” too much or being the one to move out of the way for another. But I keep my hair very long (around butt length). So does that cancel everything out? Or is it just one area I’m conforming in?

So I guess I don’t really have an answer to what “GNC” is…because I don’t really think there’s one single way to be GNC. I think the line is drawn at the impact the non-conformity has. So to use the example of the hyper-feminine woman in pants again…she’s not GNC, because those pants have such a little impact when they’re being overshadowed by her conformity in all other areas. But an unshaven, barefaced woman in a dress and sneakers, I’d consider that GNC because the rejection of shaving, makeup, and impractical footwear overshadows the dress. And then bonus points for short hair, “masculine” personality traits, etc.

[thequietmanno1]

TheLreads, Vigilantes ch 120, Replies Part 1

1) “What was that? Was that… the bell? Nope, it wasn’t. The fight has not ended yet, and I’m ready to take all the punches coming my way. Especially after the force ghosts showing up, I’ve improved my defenses, I’m ready. So, get ready for Chapter 120: Rootin'for ya!”-  I’m also not gonna throw in the towel until this series is finished, procrastination or not!

2) “Koichi has evolved from a simple cockroach to a flying cockroach, the most terrifying of them all

I’ve just realized how many bug comparisons there is in this series. Cockroaches, bees, mantis, grasshoppers…”-And yet the all-important spider is still copyrighted. Marvel Lawyers don’t mess around. 3) “Now, are you really sure about your no-killing rule Koichi? Are you really sure about it?”- Can’t kill what was already dead by this point. 4) “I think you’re exaggerating a bit there. I wouldn’t call it “passionate” per see, mostly because we’re too far deep into bullshit territory to even use the power of heart.”- Frankly though? Quirks do have an element of emotional charge to them, becoming stronger and more varied the more motivated and driven the host’s willpower is, shaping their unique powers more to suit their desires. It’s a gradual thing in other people, who have to spend lifetimes worth of effort slowly moulding their bodies to handle the changes the Quirks go through, but with AFO and the Nomus, we see that process happen quicker.

It’s why the High-Ends are more dangerous than the lower-ranked ones- not only are they smarter, they can bring their emotions to bare in fighting the heroes. Hell, this “emotional” power-up is exactly what we’ve seen in action with the Leage’s various power-ups against the MLA, when logically they shouldn’t have been able to pull those power-ups off after months of non-stop fighting against machia.

5) “Wow AfO, it’s almost like you shouldn’t have given him the only copy of Overclock, right? You could’ve studied it more in depth, knowing about all this untapped potential.”- AFO doesn’t just mean Overclock, he means every Quirk. BothKoichi and Nomura’s Quirks are going beyond their supposed limitations and evolving to become basically entirely new powers based on some fundamental aspect of a Quirk’s very makeup, how it interacts with the personality hosting the power. If AFO could tap into that, with all the Quirks he’d stockpiled, he’d be unstoppable beyond even OFA’s ability to grow and adapt beyond its original existence as a mere stockpiling power – in fact, OFA can evolve because it can do what he and his power alone cannot, assimilate with other powers to become a greater whole, whereas AFO merely as a disjointed set of accumulated powers that need specific control to work in devastating tandem 6) “Going Plus ultra of course. Why people don’t use Plus ultra anymore? I miss people saying plus ultra.”- Of course, the issue is, AFO fundamentally can’t go Plus Ultra- he just doesn’t get that stuff at all, how the emotional support of the masses can buoy up somebody’s spirits to keep going beyond what their body can handle against helpless odds, the very thing that undid him in his second fight with All Might. However, if he has a protégée who does have the capacity to emotionally power himself beyond his limitations, who can enhance his core power with raw emotional strength, then all he’s got to do is figure out a means of stealing that capacity for himself…. 7) “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW

ARE YOU TAKING THE PISS”- At this point, I’m assuming that Knuckles developed the Quirk of “narrative convenience” enabling him to do whatever action is achievable as befits the author’s intentions, no matter the internal logic of the story. He wants to go beyond being a ghost to the boy he’s got a close emotional connection to and haunt the guy he’s got nothing but hate for? Sure, why not, anything’s possible. (Vigilantes ch 71) 8) “AND NOT ONLY THAT, HE`S PLAYING FOR BOTH SIDES, NOW HE`S THE IMAGINARY GHOST OF KNUCKLEDUSTER, HAUNTING THE MEMORIES OF POP WHILE SHE COOKS”- And now his actual ghost is haunting Koichi’s current mind, along with AFO’s, somehow. (Vigilantes ch 71) 9) “FUCK`S SAKE, NOW HE REALLY IS PLAYING FOR BOTH SIDES, HELPING BOTH McBEE AND POP IN THEIR MINDS. GODDAMMIT KNUCKLE CAN YOU JUST GO BACK TO  THE STORE SINCE YOU REFUSE TO BE A PRESENT CHARACTER IN THE CURRENT DAY?”- Whilst AFO was haunting No:6’s under the disguise of O’clock, now the original deal is also haunting his pupil’s consciousness, providing him advice and self-support to draw greater power out of him at a time of crisis, to bring forth Koichi’s full potential when he needs it most. Knuckleduster might not fight AFO directly in any way during this series, but in a sense, this final battle between Koichi and 6 is also a duel between him and AFO by proxy, two mentors acting through their pupils, but with different results and ambitions in mind. (vigilantes ch 112) 10) “But I doubt that. Like Furuhashi would kill his golden child.”- Let’s file this under “mostly dead”, which is as close as Furuhashi will allow Knuckles to get to shuffling off the mortal coil. 11) “Damn Koichi. Shame you aren’t totally invulnerable to damage, all this plasma would hurt you if that wasn’t the case innit”- Koichi at this point is a short-range ballistic missile, capable of projecting himself with immense force in any direction and furthermore adding additional force outwards with every punch he throws.

12) “ALSO DID KNUCKLES GHOST JUST SHOWED UP TO SHIT TALK AFO?!????”- When you’re so hated even the dead won’t rest in their graves until they’re satisfied you’ve been told how badly you suck…. 13) “are you even surprised that he pulled some bullshit?

also, what the fuck was that scene with AfO?!????

“- That scene was some bullshit pretty much the same as these new powers Nomura’s pulling off. 14) “gonna slap you like a fly. unfortunately he forgot you’re actually a cockroach”- Tough exoskeleton, difficult to truly crush. 15) “Oh looking good for someone who was just crushed between two walls of plasma. You know how hot plasma can get?”- His full-body shield (that I assume he has on right now to increase his durability and ability to move at all after these bone-breaking injuries) is putting in work. @thelreads

[kaleidoscopicvariegated-blog]

I’m back.

Heartbroken.

Have you ever mourned something you never had?

Grieved a potential?

Well. Let me tell you it’s not ok. I actually feel like crying. Each time I realise how much deeper and meaningful whatever that thing was was/is to me and I can feel my heart shatter. And the truth is I can’t just get over it. I wish I could. Aiii I remember Noba telling me that the first break up is never the one that actually breaks you. You go through that very easily. And wow. Whatever the hell is going on is KILLING ME.

I’m fighting every bone in my body not to reach out and ask “what happened to us” “are we fighting” “what went wrong” “did I imagine everything we had during those couple of weeks?” I am DYING. Literally tried to drink it away. I applied makeup and I’m on the verge of tears. I can’t believe I’m so touched/torn/hurt.

If anything I think these past couple of weeks I was going through the first couple of stages of grief.

DENIAL

I honestly avoided the whole thing. Tried to distract myself. I charged it to the game. I labelled it a situation not even a situationship. But the words I hear ringing in my head are “I only have coitus with those I have a connection with” and that breaks my heart. THAT HONESTLY BREAKS MY HEART. The last time I saw him we went to paddle together. I feel like there’s something in my chest. And I don’t want to be in business of drinking/smoking it away.

ANGER

I don’t know if I’ve reached this stage. There’s anxiety in terms of possibly seeing him. But I’m not angry. I don’t know if I can be angry. Like I said I’ve charged it to the game. And honestly, it felt good to somewhat experience something that was so well suited for me. I keep telling myself that there’s a lot beauty in letting go of the whole thing. But there’s also beauty in being courageous, asking the very hard questions and getting AN ANSWER. Whether it’s something you want to hear or not. I think more than anything, what I’m trying to reconcile with myself is that, if they wanted me then they wouldn’t be this massive confusion and lack of clarity. CLARITY is CLEAR to SEE!!!!! So yes I’m heartbroken, and mourning something that could’ve been beautiful. But that means that everything beautiful that I have imagined for myself IF NOT BETTER is coming. Is possible. Already exists. Even if it is with them. And I should go through this process and know that at the end it will all be worthwhile.

BARGAINING

Are the last couple of sentences of ANGER me bargaining with my heart to be ok? Maybe. Truly. There’s a reason why we are here and I should be grateful that I am experiencing this heartbreak NOW rather than LATER. Because it probably would’ve uprooted my life. And turned it upside down. I think now I just work on myself. REVENGE BODY BY KHLOE. Except I’m not doing revenge. I’m just accessing a higher potential. A higher vibrational plain/plane?? So yeah. Don’t be too sad Motheo. This was a great example of why compatibility is so important. Because previously you discounted it. And you TRULY yearn for a relationship where you have similar interests.

DEPRESSION???

Was me earlier on the verge of tears.

Trying to drink it away.

Trying to smoke it away.

And I think I’ll allow myself to go through it. But I know we’ll come out the other side. That’s the beautiful thing about TRANSFORMATION. And experience. It builds character.

To Love.

To feeling wanted, worthy, SEEN.

To the infinite capacity to love.

To the pain I’m feeling that I LOVED and how lucky that I got to feel love. I’ll definitely be fine.

LOVE.

[therickedkid]

The Morning Routine( broke Edition)

Makeup and skin care have been a hype amongst the gen z and the millennials these days.

Both of them are equivalently important depending upon your point of view

Makeup has been perceived very inappropriately by the consumers because of some false internet trends and indirect beauty standards which haven’t been scripted anywhere

For me makeup is

Tools for enhancing an individual’s natural glow by applying products matching their skin tone using Color theory .

Skin care on the other side is important for maintaining your natural skin with respect to the environment we live in . And it’s an essential investment to be done for a healthier skin in long term .

Why have I named this routine THE BROKE EDITION?

Skin care and makeup is for all and thanks to social media people are breaking the barriers .

But makeup for all should be ‘For Everyone’ in economic sense too !

This is a fact that quality and brand name goes hand in hand in the beauty industry but nobody talks about the price point in India .

500 rupees if you spend for your makeup and skin care you barely get any good products.

So does this mean everyone should stop having a routine if it doesn’t fit in the budget?

NO !

In this routine I’ve picked out products that are budget friendly and effective quality wise

And this routine is simple and time saving .

Note - my skin type is Dry and blackhead prone so I’ve used the products accordingly. Before following any kind of routine you see online beaware of your Skin type !

STEP 1

Take an ice cube and gently apply it all over your face in circular motion for 30 seconds

This will tighten your skin and prep it for the steps ahead and wake you up ! It also helps with the puffiness under the eyes

STEP 2

Washing your face or cleansing is really important in order to keep your skin clean and clear free from bacteria and clogged pores

For this step I’m going to use

Nivea Face wash

This face wash is good because it comes in different variants according to your preferred skin type and it has micro beads in it which gives mild exfoliation to your skin

Take a pea sized amount of the product on the palm of your hand

Mix it up with a drop or two of water

Rub it between the two palms

It will form a lather

Gently apply it on your face and neck and massage it in circular motion for about 30 seconds

Rinse it off and pat dry

STEP 3

Moisturising your skin is important to keep it hydrated and soft

I use the Nivea crème moisturizer because it’s lightweight and non sticky

Step 4

This step is optional but necessary if you’re a person who often gets sunburns

I apply this Himalaya Aloe Vera face gel to prevent sun burns as I’m out for a longer period of time and sometimes I do tend to forget to reapply my spf and this really helps with that

You can also use this step other way around

You can cut the aloe Vera leaf from the plant you grow at home or somewhere nearby if you find

You can extract the get from the leaf by cutting it in cross section

You can directly apply it on your skin

Or freeze it up and apply on your skin as a prep just like the first step !

STEP 5

Living in India most of the time we’re exposed to the sun and its harmful UV rays . Our skin is vulnerable to it and therefore it’s important to protect our skin with SPF or sunscreen

I use the Photostable sunscreen because it suits me . You can use the one which suits your skin but make sure the sunscreen does not leave a white cast on your face after application

STEP 6

As I mentioned earlier for me makeup is enhancing your natural skin

So I’m gonna use a tinted moisturiser of maybelline newyork in shade 05

Shake the bottle really well and take a pea size amount of the product

Use your fingertips and gently blend the product in your under eyes or wherever you feel like

STEP 7

I’m gonna take my liquid lipstick or you can use a drugstore tinted lip balm like this Lakmé lip balm

Take a little bit of product on your fingertips and apply it on your cheekbones and nose you may apply on your eyes and lips too !

STEP 8

I really love putting mascara on my lashes but all of the mascaras I have used till date be it the high end or drugstore , at a point when you sweat , it spreads across your eyelids and under eyes

So I’m gonna take some Vaseline and apply it over my lashes

This naturally adds the lifting effect on my eye

STEP 9

Hydrating your lips is super super important so a lip balm or something as simple as coconut oil can be applied on your lips

I use the Nivea lip balm for it

STEP 10

Voila the routine is complete almost…..one last thing , affirmation !

Just look in the mirror say it out loud

"I’m Enough , I’m worthy and beautiful"

Hope you enjoyed reading my routine !

[sensitiveeeeee]

Quietly Acknowledging my Accomplishments

It has been 9 years and really my whole life working for this. This program was so transformational, and I am so glad I got to experience it with such amazing people these past 3 years. And it has been one of the hardest things I have ever done, and I didn’t know if I’d be able to get through it.

This graduation means a lot to me because it isn’t just about getting to the end of this really difficult clinical psych program. It’s about finally having the career I want. I didn’t even feel like celebrating my undergrad graduation at the time because I was still so far from my goal of being a psychologist and helping people in a way that best suited me. But more than that, it’s about getting through everything that I had to do beforehand to be able to even be in school.

I think back to the very beginning, being 18 and going to a community college because it’s all I could afford for myself (no shame in that at all) and being in a miserable job where I was treated like a dumb kid (because I was a dumb kid, to be fair), having no idea who I was, losing/distancing from friends because I couldn’t have “the fun college experience” with them, and most impactful, getting into jobs in the psych feild where I really had to see and hear some shit and sometimes literally take punches from people experiencing something that was beyond their control, trying to protect them from themselves and from each other.

I’m thinking back to my black eye from years ago because it’s important to me to remember the ugliness that had to come with the good. There were a lot of ugly, terrifying moments that are too much to talk about, but that was probably the best physical reflection of it that I could capture.

There were beautiful moments too, like seeing a girl’s face light up from looking in the mirror after doing her makeup for fun in that inpatient facility that was often so sad and scary, other girls asking me to do their makeup or “getting in line” for me to draw them a picture, being able to keep them company and provide words of encouragement or coping skills to overcome urges to self-harm, laughing at things they said because so many were the funniest, brightest people, laughing and crying with coworkers and being inspired by their strength to lead and continue in that amazing work. People in that particular job and the one I had before continue to inspire me. I don’t really have pictures of the priceless moments that made me stay for years, but they will always be in my mind.

Confidence has always been my weakest area, and I had a lot of growing pains that really sucked, but I can say I’m proud of the person I am now as I come out on the other side. Looking back, I did THAT. I started out at 18 knowing absolutely nothing. I paid my way through school. I got out of this notoriously rigorous program with a 4.0 all semesters and got honors in undergrad while working very intense jobs because I wanted to do something meaningful in the field as soon as I could, while also fighting my own battles with mental illness and learning how to treat them myself. Ironically, I have never been helped by therapy, either because empirically supported treatments weren’t being utilized or I simply couldn’t afford it. But this program was like therapy. By learning from it, I slowly learned how to heal myself.

Pride feels very eventful when shame has been your default for so long. It’s very weird to say, but soon, once I pass the licensure test, I will be a psychologist. I am forever grateful to the psychologists and professors who guided me and told me they believed in me, and my classmates who struggled and grew with me. I’ll never forget how we leaned on one another.

I’ve changed over and over again throughout the years in my perspectives, beliefs, and opinions and still am. While I still have a lot of work to do when it comes to accepting myself, I can say I am so proud of my grit and my open mind. I’m proud of going through everything while being a very sensitive, soft person. I’m proud of doing this despite not believing I could, knowing I’d have to work harder because of my ADHD. And I’m proud of that thing inside me that made me do all this, the desire to help people find what is in them to ease their own mental suffering.

I almost cried when my professor, a pretty stoic man, who I consider to be a genius, said to me a couple weeks ago, “It has been really rewarding to watch you blossom into a more confident version of yourself. You are smart and talented, and I’m glad future students can learn from your written work and you can help so many people.” That was kind of a full circle moment for that little girl who was in title I and struggled with a learning disability. This has been one giant full circle. Even if things are still hard, I think just the act of doing this for myself was worth it.

I thought of writing this as “self-aggrandizing” in the beginning. To be fair, this is a giant self-congrats. But it feels like it’s time to openly give myself credit for once after almost a decade, never stopping to take it in and allow myself to consider all I’ve done. I have always been a skeptical person, and I feel like, over time, something broken inside me healed by proving my shame wrong with evidence.

[kpforpresident]

Clexa #46 please

~out of envy or jealousy~

“Clarke, wait,” Lexa calls out desperately behind her, sighing in slight frustration as the mane of blonde hair whipped around the hallway of their apartment building. Fading footsteps pounded furiously up the slightly tilted stairs that lead to their cozy third story apartment. Keys rattled in the door, and then the resounding sound of that same door slamming echoed in the hallway. 

Lexa slumped against the very bottom stair, pinching the bridge of her nose tiredly. Letting her head fall back with a thump against the wallpapered hallway, she dug her phone out of her pocket with a weary hand and pressed two on her speed dial, waiting.  

“Hey, kid. What have you done now?” An amused voice blares out of the small speaker as Lexa presses the speakerphone mode and taps the phone against her forehead, holding up her head with a weary finger to her temple. 

She wiggles uncomfortably in her suit, undoing her jacket with one hand as she tries to sit without wrinkling it more. She had only worn this particular green one, slightly tight as it was, because she assumed that Clarke would be peeling it off her as soon as they had gotten home from the law school gala. Preferably with her teeth. Clearly, she muses as she looks up at their very shut front door, that was not happening tonight. She scrubs a tired hand over her face, remembering at the last moment that she had put on eye makeup tonight. Damn, double damn.

“Ahn, why do you assume that I am the one who has fucked up,” she snarls slightly, looking with betrayal at the phone. As if Anya can see her through the speaker, all the way out in sunny California. 

“Because,” the knowing voice on the other end of the line says, “you wouldn’t be calling me at-” a shuffle as Anya leans over to peer at her kitchen clock- “two am New York time if you hadn’t fucked up in some manner.” 

Lexa nods slightly. Then, remembering that Anya can’t see her, says quietly, “yeah, I mean you’re not wrong. The problem is, I don’t think I’ve done anything. But Clarke clearly thinks I have, and now I am locked out of my own apartment because she has the only set of keys we brought out!” 

A tinny laugh oozes out of the speaker and Lexa rolls her eyes as she smiles slightly, waiting for Anya to get her kicks. Then a crackly sigh pours out of the speaker, followed by the whoosh of what Lexa assumes is Anya’s fridge opening. The bubbly crack of a beer can follows as Lexa can hear Anya getting settled again. She can picture her, slinging herself onto her kitchen counter as she gets comfortable, long legs dangling off, beer in hand. 

“Ok, Lex. I’m ready. Hit me with whatever fuckery you’ve managed this time.” Lexa rolls her eyes for real this time as she wiggles out of her jacket fully, draping it carefully over a higher step as she toes off her favorite dress shoes. 

“I don’t know what happened, Ahn. The night was going well, we had been having fun. Clarke was wearing this insane midnight navy dress that I was honestly losing my mind over-”

“Ew, Lexa,” Anya interrupted, sounding horrified. “I’m really glad you've been sickeningly in love since you were like, eighteen, but I do not need to hear how badly you want to bone your girlfriend. Believe me, we all know it.” 

Lexa smiles for real as she conjures up a vision of Clarke’s dress- strapless and shimmering in the soft lights of the ballroom, clinging to her legs and generous curves as she moves and dances. Lexa had barely been able to keep her hands off Clarke, the liquid silk appearing as it had been simply painted on her girlfriend. Clarke had topped off the look with strappy black heels that made it so she was able to look Lexa squarely in the eyes as they danced. 

Lexa had had visions of those shoes in particular throughout the night, them falling into bed after, light off of expensive champagne and tiny plates of appetizers  supplied by Lexa’s law program to celebrate the end of their third year. Clarke wearing only those shoes, creamy alabaster legs wrapped around Lexa’s shoulders in their bed. 

Lexa shakes the image out of her head as Anya’s inquiring, exasperated “Hello, earth to Alexandria,” blares into her eardrum. 

“Sorry Anya, I’m here,” She says as a faint blush steals across the tops of her ears. “Anyway, everything had been going so well, we had been having fun. Clarke had sat for a little while because her feet were hurting, and Costia and I were dancing-”

“Wait, wait wait,” Anya cuts her off, sounding decidedly less amused. “You were dancing with Costia? Lexa, anyone with eyeballs and a pulse can see how badly that girl has it for you, she practically makes up excuses to come talk to you at your internship. You know it bugs the hell out of Clarke!” 

The friendship between Anya and Clarke wasn’t one that Lexa completely understood, as they teased the hell out of each other. But at some point over Lexa and Clarke’s six plus year relationship, Anya had become as protective of Clarke as she was of Lexa. 

“I know Anya,” Lexa growls back, wiggling down completely now to lay on the rickety wooden step. The accusing face of her watch reads 2:45 am. 

“But Clarke needed to sit, and Costia’s date Echo was off schmoozing up one of our law profs, and she asked and I felt like I couldn’t say no. It was one dance, Ahn! We talked about Clarke the entire time! We were talking about her latest exhibit!” 

“Does Clarke know that??” Anya demanded through the speaker, pitch of her voice stepping up incredulously.  Lexa’s arm that isn’t holding the phone shoots up into the air, gesturing in exasperation as she clamps the phone between her jaw and shoulder. 

“I didn’t have a chance, Anya! Clarke was so pissed after that dance that she barely said another word to me as we cabbed home, wouldn’t listen to me. Then she sprinted off in those damn heels and now I’m here, talking to you while my girlfriend fumes inside. What do I do?!” 

Silence. 

“You know what to do, Lex,” Anya’s unamused voice said. “Go up there, and fucking grovel. Tell her exactly what you told me. Relationships are based on trust and mutual love, but Clarke has communicated to you clearly that she’s uncomfortable with Costia, and you danced with her anyway. Your intentions were good but your execution needs a lot of work, little sister.” 

“Love you too, Ahn,” Lexa snarls, but there is no heat behind it. 

“Bye, Lexa. We’ll talk tomorrow?” 

Lexa murmurs an affirmative before hanging up, dropping her phone on her chest as she sits, thinking, for a long moment. She hoists herself up, tucking her phone into her back pocket as she grabs her shoes with her right hand, slighing her jacket over her left shoulder as she slowly walks up the meandering staircase. Before she can hesitantly knock on the door, it creaks open. 

Liquid blue eyes meet her apologetic gaze. Clarke’s face is scrubbed clean of makeup, the skin around her eyes slightly red. Golden curls tumble around her shoulders, the glamorous waves from the event falling slightly. She’s dressed in one of Lexa’s oversized Columbia sweaters, the sleeves rolled so that her hands are free, legs and feet bare. It’s Clarke’s go-to comfort item when she’s upset. It hurts something in Lexa’s chest to see how sad this made Clarke. Lexa drops her shoes again as she reaches for Clarke, instinctively wanting to comfort her. 

Clarke lets herself be folded into Lexa’s embrace, tucking her chin into Lexa’s shoulder. They stand in silence for a moment in the doorway. 

“I heard everything.” 

Lexa’s shoulders slump in silent relief. While she doesn’t exactly love that Clarke was listening to her phone call with her sister, if it has turned the angry lioness back into her pliant and loving girlfriend, she’s willing to let it slide. 

Clarke tugs her into the apartment, door closing behind them. After Lexa has changed, shedding her beautiful but impractical suit for a threadbare Artists Do It Better tie dye t-shirt that they had found while thrifting, they curl up in bed together. 

“I get jealous, Lex,” comes the quiet admission into her shirtfront as Clarke’s arms twine around her for comfort. Lexa stamps a loving kiss to her hairline, waiting for her to finish as she smooths an encouraging hand down her spine. Clarke props her chin up on Lexa’s sternum so they can lock eyes. 

“It’s hard for me to feel like I compare sometimes, with Costia being in your law program and your internship, and you’ll probably work at the same firm after graduation, and I know I’m good at what I do, but it’s just hard to feel like I fit into your world,” comes out in a shaky whisper as those heartbreakingly blue eyes fill with a ream of tears. 

Lexa grabs her tighter, rolling them so they are facing each other on their sides. 

“Clarke, you are it for me,” she states honestly as she smooths her tears away. “You are my world.” 

Clarke nods into her shirtfront. She doesn’t say anything for a moment before she lunges at an unsuspecting Lexa, their mouths clashing together. They kiss heavily for a moment, lips and teeth and tongue battling for dominance. Clarke eventually pulls away first, breathing heavily. Lexa’s eyes are still zeroed onto her lips, eyes dark and wanting. 

“What was that for?” she asks huskily, running a lustful hand over Clarke’s hip. 

“Because, you’re mine,” Clarke snarls back, somehow rolling them so she pins Lexa underneath her. She reaches behind her to pull the baggy sweatshirt over her head, preening slightly as Lexa’s eyes zero into her chest. 

“And I intend to show you that.”

[earlgreydream]

time for us.

| loki x reader | angst | fluff |

anon requested. loki has been working a lot lately and hasn’t really had anytime for the reader and he completely forgets about their anniversary and she doesn’t tell him for a couple of days but then he snaps at her and they have a huge argument

a/n: this doesn’t have any spoilers for the show— just mention that Loki works for the TVA (which isn’t canon at the time of me writing this)

You loathed Loki’s new job, working for the Time Variance Authority.

Ever since Loki began at the TVA, they’d managed to occupy nearly all of his time and energy, leaving little to none left for you. Your relationship was strong, but only a few weeks of work had put a strain on the two of you.

He’d become more short tempered, and easily agitated. You tried to be patient, but little things seemed to antagonize you, and soon every small thing was becoming huge.

Above all, you hated to fight with Loki. You bottled up your frustration, shoving them down inside of you and keeping them hidden and locked away. Your limited time with Loki was precious, and you didn’t want to poison it with your annoyance. However, it was doing damage that you hadn’t yet comprehended, building a pressurized weapon that was bound to explode.

It took weeks, but the explosion came.

.

Loki had been so caught up in work that he missed your anniversary. It had escaped his mind entirely, passing like any other day. He was distracted by variants running wild, and the need to please his new boss. He felt responsible for things that were going wrong, and he had put your relationship on the backburner.

You’d been certain he’d take you out during the night, or at least do something to acknowledge the anniversary of your love, but you’d been dead wrong. You waited at home as hours passed, and when his normal arrival time had long passed, the pain in your chest grew until your entire body was throbbing with hurt.

You took your makeup off, along with the pretty dress you wore-- the green one that your husband adored.

Loki had stayed late at work, taking overtime and showing up just before ten. You were so hurt you could hardly speak, but Loki’s mind was too muddled with work to even notice. You were already in bed when he returned home, and he’d kissed your forehead and gone to sleep with less than five words leaving his lips.

You laid awake in bed that night, staring at the wall. You should have told Loki you were angry, said something then and at least gotten it in the open. But you shoved it down with everything else— every other hurt and grievance and annoyance that poisoned you.

.

“Can you set that down, please?” You asked, four days later. You tried to keep your tone even, but you were impatient. The bite in your words was all you could do to keep from tearing the file from his delicate hands.

Loki was in the kitchen, his face buried in a variant case file. He was supposed to be helping you make dinner, but you were dismissed and cast aside once again as his work outshined you.

“I’m working, Y/N! It’s important. Don’t you want me to get paid so you can have your pretty things?” Loki snapped, shocking you.

“No!” You screamed, slamming the cabinet door shut.

He stared at you, turquoise eyes wide in shock at your outburst. He dropped the file on the counter, a harsh glare adorning his stunning face.

“No, Loki! I don’t fucking care about the pretty things. I don’t even know that I care about YOU!” The words were coming out before you could stop them.

“You don’t care about me?! All I ever do is for you!” Loki met your anger, matching your energy and only fueling the fire of rage that was building in your stomach.

“You’re such a selfish liar! You don’t give a fuck about me, Loki! You’re in a relationship with your bullshit job, you don’t give a damn about me! All of your time and your energy... and fuck, even your kindness goes to the stupid fucking TVA!! There’s nothing left for me, and I don’t want your scraps!” You shoved him back when he took a step toward you.

“I’m selfish? You’re needy and dramatic! You’re a spoiled brat, acting out when not every ounce of my attention is being given to you. What, you’re mad that I didn’t help you make this salad? Grow up, Y/N!” Loki’s hateful words poured out, tasting like acid in his mouth.

“No! I’m mad that you forgot our anniversary and that you haven’t seen how much you’ve hurt me!” Tears burned as they streamed down your face, blurring your vision that was bleeding at the edges.

Loki’s lips parted, and realization suddenly crossed his features. He took a step back, recognizing his anger had spiraled out of control, and that your anger was justified.

“I didn’t mean it… I do care about you, I just want you to care about me.” Your voice broke, and shaky hands went to your mouth, stifling a sob. Guilt swelled in Loki’s chest as he saw you fall apart, unable to bear the weight of your anger.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know how I’ve forgotten. Please, my love, forgive me,” Loki’s tone softened, and he knelt down to his knees before you.

He didn’t care about the messy floors ruining his perfect suit, nothing mattered to him then except for you.

“I shouldn’t have gotten so angry, I just miss you,” you were weeping, unable to hold the sobs at bay.

“It’s okay, scream and cry if you need to, but know I love you more than anything and I am terribly, terribly sorry.”

Loki gently pulled you forward, closing his arms around you. His forehead rested against your stomach, and you laid your hands on top of his head.

“I know. I know,” you stammered in shaky breaths. Your fingers trembled as you dragged them through his hair, overwhelmed with every emotion that washed over you all at once.

.

You got home from work, a couple of days after your fight. You had both apologized, easing the tension over. Loki hadn’t stopped apologizing, even when you promised him it was okay. It had been better since-- you weren’t keeping secrets or harboring anger, and you felt exceedingly better in the aftermath of your fight.

You walked into your master suite, considering a hot bath or a shower after your day. You were lost in your thoughts as you kicked your shoes off, before turning to the bed. A dress was laid out on the end of the bed, glittery heels and jewelry in a box beside it. Loki wasn’t home, but a note was attached, telling you to get dressed and he’d meet you.

You smiled, lifting the black cocktail dress. You changed, fixing your hair and makeup in the mirror. Your day at work had been long, and you didn’t know what Loki had in store for you, but you were excited.

The lock clicked open on the door, signaling the arrival of your husband. You stepped into the foyer to greet him, met with Loki in an all-black suit. A grin spread across his expression as he noticed you, making warmth bloom in your chest.

“You look-” you both started at the same time.

You smiled and tilted your head, letting him speak.

“You look beautiful,” Loki spoke softly before giving you a kiss.

“Thank you. You look sharp. What’s the occasion, what are we doing?”

“I’m so sorry I missed our anniversary. I thought we could celebrate us tonight.”

You broke into a grin, nodding excitedly.

“Yes. Yes, let’s do it.”

“Of course. Let me set my things down,” he kissed your cheek and stepped into your master, cleaning up and dropping his bag.

.

You were driven to a fancy restaurant, one hand in Loki’s as the other smoothed over the wheel of his black sports car. He dropped the keys with a valet, and you were escorted to a table in the back of the place.

“Wine, Mrs. Laufeyson?”

“Please,” you nodded, and the waiter poured you a glass of sparkling pink moscato.

“I’ve gotten us a suite at the resort in the city. I have a bag packed for you in the car, I thought we could enjoy a weekend away. You deserve it,” Loki brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“You’re spoiling me,” you giggled, sipping your wine.

“As I should be.”

Elaborate French dishes were brought out on gorgeous plates, looking like something from a food blog. It tasted divine, and Loki told you some history about the dish from some time he was living or traveling in Paris. You listened to his animated stories, thinking about how you were so in love with him. 

“Why’re you staring at me like that?” Loki laughed softly, spooning sorbet into your mouth.

“Because I love you. And you’re charming and cute when you get excited,” you confessed with a grin. 

“I love you too. I’m sorry about everything,” he apologized. 

“It’s okay. We’re past it. Time moves forward for us.”

Loki nodded, leaning forward and smearing a kiss over your temple before retrieving your car from the valet.

“To the hotel?” he asked, sliding his hands over your hips and kissing your neck as you waited.

“Okay,” you giggled, squirming in his arms. 

He squeezed your bum, making you gasp before opening the door for you, helping you into the passenger seat. 

When you arrived at the hotel, there was a bouquet of roses on the table, and candles burning around. He kissed the back of your head, setting your bag down for you.

“Let me make this up to you,” his voice was deep as he unzipped your dress.

“Please,” you smiled, turning in his arms and pulling him into a heated kiss.