#roxy wrote a lot!

[dykevanny]

NEW CHAPTER. THROWS MY ARMS INTO THE AIR

[scottpilgrim4everr]

I rewatched the Scott Pilgrim movie last night after work and it definitely is a movie that exists.

[xo-myloves]

I have a love hate relationship with Nikki, so why not put it to good use….

༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞𝙳𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐༞༞༞༞༞༞

Nikki sixx, so many ways to put him, he wrote great songs, his looks were fucking fantastic, his band was good, but fuck he was such a prick, such a fucking poser, such a douche, he always thought he was better than everyone else, maybe someone needs to put his fucking ass in check.

✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢✢

It was like any other night in the Roxy, lots of chicks, lot of guys, the smell of sex, boozes and rock n roll was in the air, couldn’t be any better, I knew Nikki’s schedule by now, he would play a show wherever he had booked, come to the Roxy, fuck some chick, go to bed, I’ve been that chick before.

He decided to tell everyone on the strip I was the easiest piece of meat of the street. I wanted to crave his fucking face in, especially the person who came up and told me about it, Mr fucking axl rose. When this ginger fuck came up to me and asking if I was as easy as Nikki says, I wanted to rip his fucking head off.

It was more of a joke with axl so I didn’t care as much, I’ve known him for a while, he didn’t like Nikki either, so it was all perfect, he told me when he was coming to and when he was, fucking perfect, it was all perfect.

As I was lost in my train of thought, I looked up to see the one and only, Mr sixx, that fucking cock.

“Hey Nikki!” I shouted from the other side of the club to catch his attention, he immediately turned and came up to me with a drunk gaze and smile, he reeked of cigarettes and whiskey, why did I find that so hot.

“Well hello gorgeous.” Nikki spoke in his usual cocky tone, already starting a fire in my being, i just gave him a fake smile, which he believed, “what brings you here doll face?” Nikki spoke again putting his arm around me, I wanted to fucking bite it off! But didn’t. Not yet at least.

“How about we have some fun, like we did?” I bit my tongue as I spoke, wanting to swallow the words I already said, it was all a plan though, I knew what I was doing, I was calculated, I wasn’t you’re average slut, if I was a slut, I’d be a damn smart one.

Nikki’s face light up at my question, more of a statement the more I think about it, “already want more of me?”

God he was such an annoying prick.

“you could say so, let’s just get going.” I tried to hurry up the process of getting him to my hotel, and teaching him who the fuck is in charge.

As we got a cab to my hotel, he was all over me, trying to reach his hands up my skirt, trying to take my top off, everytime i would just slap the shit out of him, not letting him get a second of me, which was already making his blood boil.

“Let me touch you baby, please, or touch me.” He grabbed my hand, reaching it down to his crotch, and you know what I did? I fucking squeezed the shit out of his dick making him yelp in pain, making him shoot up with surprise and frustration, only making me laugh in amusement.

“What the fuck y/n?!” He shouted at me, making the car driver look back, I just put my fingers to his lips, in a very sexually manner, which made this horny bastard immediately retract his actions.

After the cab finally pulled up to my hotel, shaking the bright lights, I immediately got out, waiting for Nikki, who stumbled out of the car, almost falling onto his fucking face, which I wish he did so I could laugh at him.

We get upstairs and he is already taking his clothes off, and walking up to me and trying to get in my pants, I let him think he is getting more than he thinks at first, I let him give me a few kisses and squeezes.

Until I push him onto the bed, grabbing my handcuffs and his eyes light up with fear and excitement, “w-what is that f-for?” He looked scared and for some sick reason it turned me on and boosted my confidence, I locked the cuffs to the bed frame making him squirm a bit, which ended up with him getting hit with the back of my hand.

“What the fuck!” He shouted, thrashing his legs, and looking at me with anger and a sex drive higher than anyone else’s, “you wanna know?!” I shouted my act giving up slightly, he nodded his head and shouted “YES!”, I didn’t even give him the satisfaction of an answer.

I started ripping his leather pants off of him, leaving him in his boxers which were soon torn off, leaving him exposed to me, and only me in this moment, I quickly got on the bed, wrapping my handcuffs around his cock, pumping him fast and hard without any warning, “you wanna tell me how easy you say I am?! Huh? You stupid fuck.” I spit in his face, literally, it mostly hit his chest but a little bit got on his face.

His face got bright red in embarrassment and anger, “FUCK YOU, Y-YOU C-CRAZY BITCH!” He gasped slightly at me still jerking his cock hard and fast, not letting him being able to control his emotions.

“No I fucking want you to tell me why you think you have the nerve to say I’m a whore when you beg to fuck me hmm?” I snapped, I spit on his cock so there was some lube so it made it easier to go faster on his cock, which only made him start moaning like a bitch.

“I-it w-was stupid, I-I’m f-fucking s-sor-sorry, I-m g-gon-gonna cum shit.” Nikki panted like a dog going through heat, his thighs getting a bit shaky, his fists clenched, and his eyes getting glossy, but I couldn’t give two fucks.

“It was pretty fucking stupid huh? And you know what? Fuck you and your dirty fucking cock.” I let go our his dick, spitting on his lower stomach, which made his thighs and legs start thrashing needing his release, which he won’t be fucking getting.

“Y/N PLEASE WHAT THE FUCK I NEED TO CUM YOU FUCKING BITCH COME BACK HERE!” His hands pulled on the handcuffs making loud sounds, but before I knew it, I left the room, oh did I mention, it was Tommy’s hotel room?

Axl swiped the key for me.

mwah thank you axl baby 💋

[emotional-moss]

i got super ill about the homestuck kids’ accents and wrote a whole thing

john: your stereotypical american accent that one thinks of, californian but diluted basically. says you guys a lot. pronounces wash kind of like warsh. also sometimes uses weirdly formal language, like television instead of TV, refrigerator instead of fridge, even automobile instead of car - dad’s fault. trained himself out of it cause he thought it was embarrassing, but slips up sometimes.

rose: somewhat of a transatlantic accent, including the speech patterns. picked it up from old tv shows and movies because she didn’t want to sound like roxy-mom (who has a thick mixture of a new york/boston/rhode island accent). but growing up with roxy-mom, she has a bit of that accent too - so it’s this weird mixture of 30% stereotypical American, 50% transatlantic, 20% boston accent. 

dave: texan accent, courtesy of dirk!bro, who spoke in the most stereotypical drawling texan accent ever. as he got older he started to think it wasn’t cool, so he started masking it, but it’s still there. gets stronger when he expresses emotion or when he forgets to mask it. gratuitous use of the word y’all. doesn’t say it over text but it’s a habit in real life. drops g’s at the end of words, like singin’, fuckin’, etc.

jade: obviously had no outside contact with other people other than with grandpa, so she has a slight british accent - kept up with learning to talk by watching youtube videos, so the accent isn’t very strong. also, even before going god tier, had weird canine vocalizations picked up from bec, like growling, whining, even sometimes howling, etc.

jane: very similar to john’s, but sounds…older? not transatlantic, but similar to late 19th century-early 20th century accents, with song-like intonation and faint r’s. heavy emphasized consonants and slight vowel merging with e and i, such that pen and pin sound virtually the same. all in all, what you’d imagine a canadian from the 1800s talks like. 

roxy: the goddamn heaviest stereotypical new york accent ever. a weird super heavy mix of queens and staten island accent she learned entirely for shits and giggles, and also to annoy rose-mom. not very nasally though, unless she’s trying to annoy someone on purpose. a lot of the word like thrown in. doesn’t say it over text, but it’s a habit irl. 

dirk: the flattest most unplaceable standard american accent ever, apart from a hint of a texan accent. learned to talk from the internet and robots, but when he was very young used to repeatedly watch videos that dave!bro left for him and programmed around the house. dave!bro had a heavy texan accent, which is where he picked that up from. drops g’s at the end of words, like singin’, fuckin’, etc.

jake: really heavy, stereotypically posh british accent that sounds like what an american thinks a british person sounds like. but he’s 100% genuine about it and there’s no real explanation for why he does it, other than the fact that when he was very young he used to repeatedly watch grandma’s favorite movies - old british movies. now it’s just a habit and he can’t be trained out of it.

[sabrinatvband]

Notes on Comic Art #2: To Hatch or Not to Hatch, also some coloring stuff

One of the most influential things I've ever read on the subject of comic art is a piece Jesse Hamm wrote on Alex Toth where he talks about flatpacking.

[I discovered while writing this that Jesse Hamm passed away in 2021. He was a brilliant educator, one of the best in the history of the comics medium, and will be sorely missed.]

In the piece Hamm basically discusses how over-rendering objects usually makes them function worse as comic art. Many other people have discussed how using thicker lines for objects closer to the "camera" is good practice, how colors can seperate shapes and create depth, etc.

The question is, where does cross hatching fit into all of this? Or rather, various methods of adding more detailed rendering to artwork? I'm trying to figure this stuff out as I'm doing layouts for my comic, because I want to know the answers before I start inking the final artwork.

I try/want to have an uncluttered, clean, easily readable art style. I occasionally add hatching to my drawings, because hatching is fun, but I often feel like I've slightly ruined my artwork when I'm finished.

I've decided to look at some of the art that I feel like my own work is trying the hardest to emulate, at least philosophically, to see how other artists "weigh in" on this debate. It's important to remember that inkers embellish artwork [hence the alternate title "embellisher"], and so I'm going to try and find inkers most representative of a given penciller's intentions when applicable.

As I was working on this piece, I read Hamm Tips vol 1.1, and I discovered this diagram, which seems to relate with what I'm going to discuss later:

I think it's accurate to say that my desired approach is Uninflected/Deliberate; I think most people going for a clean and cartoonish look fall into that quadrant. Some people might describe Toth's work as being "clean", and so I should clarify that I'm talking about clean in the spirit of "lines meet neatly".

Some of the artists I'll discuss have lines that fall somewhere between being Inflected and Uninflected, and I think a lot of this comes down to inker approach. I feel like, in spirit, all of these pencillers are Uninflected, but some of the inkers use brushes, which creates a sort of middle ground. Brushes add different weights to a line, whereas crow quill nibs and pens have a uniform width. [The technical term for unweighted inked lines is "dumb line"; I believe this was coined by David Mazzucchelli.]

Let's first look at Adam Warren's work in the Dirty Pair volume Fatal But Not Serious. I'm a huge fan of how this comic looks; the flat, cel animation-style colors are very clean and easy to read. It's a very pleasant look, and I'm surprised more comics don't do this.

There is some hatching here, but it's not "serious" hatching. Just a few lines on cheeks, hands, etc. 98% of the artwork is shapes delinated entirely by a clean line and color. The convention floor panel is able to have a ton of detail without really changing the visual "rules" of the comic. An artist who does things in a more highly rendered way may've, for instance, reduced the crowd to a series of heavily shadowed figures, or colored in a single expressionistic wash to paper over things, etc.

Warren's Magical Drama Queen Roxy used a very similar approach to Fatal But Not Serious:

Let's now look at Rick Mays. I'm not a huge fan of Rick Mays, I've only actual read a single issue of a comic by him, but as I was reading Gen 13 he immediately stood out as being the best artist on that series, aside from Adam Warren himself [speaking only about issues Warren wrote]. It feels very telling that Rick Mays later did the final art for a graphic novel Warren laid out called Livewires.

These are from Gen 13 vol 2 #70:

The biggest difference between this piece has nothing to do with Warren or Mays, and everything to do with the coloring approach. I don't think the coloring here is bad, but the gradient-y colors do create a vastly different visual effect than the cel look I highlighted earlier.

The inking approach feels quite similar between the two artists; while Mays's art takes one or two steps towards realism relative to the Fatal But Not Serious stuff, texture is largely used to the same degree [with the grass and tornado being understandable exceptions]. What's interesting is that this issue has three different credited inkers; Karl Story, Rick Mays, and Jason Martin. I'm assuming this happened for deadline reasons.

I feel like I'm maybe starting to sound a little repetitive, and so I feel like I should share an issue of Gen 13 that I disliked, and then we can move to things that aren't Adam Warren-adjacent. These are from #43 and #44, with pencils by Lee Bermejo and inks by John Nyberg:

I'm not a big fan of this. The borderline chiaroscuro inking makes everything look heavily referenced, labored, and weird, and the "acting" in the comic suffers because of the over-rendered faces. It's a real shame the artwork is like this, because this two-part story is actually quite solid and would be a minor classic with better artwork.

I notice that many newer comic artists [which is to say, people who began their careers during the 90s onwards] put a lot of heavy shadows on figures in a way that feels too slavishly devoted to a certain kind of realism. I say a "certain kind" because the high contrast look of black spots being put onto a figure make the shadows way darker than they'd actually look in real life, so it almost makes the figures look dirty.

Look at comic art from the olden days and figures are largely defined by outlines/color. If a figure in an old comic has a lot of shadow on them, it's for reasons that are obvious and motivated; noir-y venetian blinds stuff, a mysterious villain being obscured, someone being underlit, or having half their face obscured, etc. There's a clear reason shadows are being used in these cases, rather than it being done to add usually unnecessary detail.

Anyways, let's look at Amanda Conner's work. Image on the left is from a Vampirella story called Fantasy Feast, and the image on the right is from Power Girl #12. Texture is used, like on the walls of the bathroom, but sparingly.

Looking at Conner's work in this context makes me realize, I don't think I've ever seen Amanda Conner's stuff colored flat [at least after she fully matured as an artist]. I don't think the more three-dimensional rendering used in any of these panels is bad, but I'm not going to be doing that kind of coloring in my book, and so it's not quite as instructive to me.

That being said, I really love Conner's style. I've noticed that Marvel and DC are increasingly using artists with styles that are broadly similar to Conner's; I've included an example below. Maybe it's because the artist below is too lazy to draw a proper background, but their work feels so much more flavorless than Conner's in comparison. I think it's because the "acting" is not as impressive, and Conner brings a fun-factor that feels completely absent in the page below.

I realize "fun" isn't always the order of the day, but this page doesn't really reflect . . . anything. It's completely bland.

Here's Kirby, who couldn't be bland if he tried. The left image is from the Young Romance collection Fantagraphics put out, and the right is from OMAC. The former is from the 40s, latter is from the 70s. [By the way, the Young Romance image is photographed from my own collection; there's no warping visible because Fantagraphics knows how to design a book].

Looking at these pieces side-by-side really challenges a lot of my assumptions about Kirby's artwork, because in some ways his artwork changed less than I previously thought it did without direct comparisons. There are some things that are more abstract about the OMAC page, like the wiggly shadows. Someone unfamiliar with Kirby might assume these were drawn by two different people, but only because 30-odd years of growth seperate these two pages.

Kirby's style, in my mind, is highly geometric and defined more so by abstract shorthand squiggles than hatching or other forms of rendering, but there actually is a fair amount of hatching on the OMAC page.

However, that OMAC page I believe was inked by Mike Royer, or at least someone using a brush. I noticed that, by sheer coincidence, almost all of the Kirby art from my first post in this series was inked by D. Bruce Barry, who didn't use a brush and also followed Kirby's pencils perhaps more literally than any other inker he ever had. In those images, it's clear that most of the hatching in Kirby's work was added by his inkers.

When Kirby did ink himself [using a brush], his style was oddly clean. He did add in hatching, but it was never particularly dense.

Anyways, I want to close this by including some Jesse Hamm quotes from his instructional PDFs:

-Simplicity is great, but often you need extra texture to seel weirdness.

-Another sign of experience is texture. The pro-level artist has learned to give different textures to grass, hair, tree bark, bushes, etc. Meanwhile, the amateur uses the same one or two shading techniques on EVERYTHING, giving it all a samey feel.

-Open spaces of black or white may be "activated" with a bit of texture. A few pebbles/ripples/etc will spur the mind to fill what's missing.

-We talk often about spotting blacks, but spotting greys (i.e., details/texture) is also crucial to clear compositions.

The lesson in the bit of Hamm writing I most often revisited, the flatpacking post, was that too much texture and rendering can make a comic exhausting to read. But reading more of his work, it turns out he had a more nuanced, texture-inclusive view of things.

What's the lesson here? Discretion.

[martiandmichelle]

Hey everyone, it's Marti (of course) writing from Studio M North, or "The North" as Roxy explained earlier. I've got a lot to write about and will only touch on a couple of things in this post, so I hope you enjoy this view of me as you read.

First, my tits. They've been on a growth spurt for nearly a year now and though I wrote about going from a T cup to a U cup in a few months that was mostly wishful thinking. But damned if didn't, and ever sooner than I thought - and they show no signs of slowly their most recent growth. A fuck U cup. Can you believe it?!? And there is absolutely no neck or back pain. Yeah, I exercise a lot to keep my parts that support my tits strong, but, I mean, no pain - at all. I'm loving it and hope I keep growing. Way up here in the Appalachians nobody sees me, so grow, babies, grow!

The second thing I want to write about here is, well, not a thing but a person: Maria. I always knew she was a dom lover, but, God, I never guessed how dominate. The night after her divorce from Michelle, I offered to sleep with her, mainly just to snuggle. But, NOOOO. Out came chains, cuffs, ropes, huge dongs, a fuck machine. The real ultra dominate Maria came pouring out. Or maybe gushing is a better word. This woman is fucking HOT! She had been keeping than dominance under wraps for Michelle's sake, but with that gone and with me desiring mostly to be a sub, it's been incredible!

I'll go into lots more detail soon so please stick around!!!!

[paradoxgavel]

Pit Stop - Sun/Reader

Oh hey I wrote a thing! Just some stress-related fluff.

You are currently running around the Pizzaplex with all the fervor and grace of an over-caffeinated emu.

The Pizzaplex has been understandably busy lately - it's Summer and all the kids are out of school and piling into the Plex instead. It's something you foresaw, but not necessarily something you were prepared for. Because more patrons means more messes to clean, more damages to repair, more potential animatronic-related accidents to prevent. (People REALLY don't like being told not to use flash photography on the animatronics.) And so, for the past few... weeks? Has it been weeks now? The days are blurring together. For the last few fuckin' whatevers, it's just been go go go go from the second you clock in to the second you clock out.

It's... not gone unnoticed. Freddy's been awful worried for you lately, always checking in with you whenever he and you get a free moment together - an increasing rarity. But he's always got a big ol' bear hug waiting for you when you need it.

Chica's always sneaking snacks into your supplies. One time you found a little pack of cookies she'd somehow managed to sleight-of-hand into hiding in your uniform's hood in passing.

Roxy's invited you to come hang out in her room with her for a bit. She says she needs someone to listen to some new keytar riffs she's been working on and "you'll have to do", but... you can tell she really just wants to hang with you for a bit.

Even Monty's eased off picking on you lately. He tried busting your chops one day recently, and you're pretty sure you gave him a cold death glare that could turn even an animatronic to stone. He's been giving you an easier time since then. Even offered to take you golfing with him in case you needed to get some of that stress out.

And when your job brings you to the arcade after hours, you can't help but notice a certain giant DJ playing some nice lo-fi beats for you while you work. You'd be lying if you said it didn't help chill you out after a day of unrelenting frazzlement. If that's even a word.

And then... there's Sun and Moon. Your best friends in the Plex. When it comes to Moon, he's noticed how bone-tired you are at the end of each day, because he's quite literally hard-wired to notice such things. And so, if you want to have any hope of getting any work done during the night, you have to keep an eye out for a certain mechanical jester who wants to scoop you up, have you stop what you're doing, and tuck you in - pillow, blanket, plushies, good night head pats... the works. He's managed it a few times now. The fiend. The blackheart. The dastard. (Buuut... you do always wind up waking up feeling a lot better. And your work always seems to be finished up where you left off - shout out to the STAFF bots, heh...)

And Sun. Sun, who is currently watching you hustle and bustle around like that aforementioned caffeinated emu through the transparent panes around the daycare. You've got a million things you need to do today - so many messes to clean and repairs to do and customers to deal with and bots to supervise and--

"Hoooold it!!"

A familiar yellow mechanical arm lowering down into your path through the open daycare doors as you begin to hurry past them interrupts your frenzied train of thought and blocks your path - like a barrier gate in front of a toll booth. One with jingling bells attached.

You stop in your tracks in front of the arm, glancing up at its owner - your solar-themed robotic jester buddy, grinning down at you, bouncing a bit in place. "Attention, citizen! I'm afraid your weary travels have led you to the Superstar Turnpike! You've gotta stop and pay the toll if you wanna keep going!" He says with a chuckle.

You blink, processing this for a moment, before your tensed up body relaxes just a smidgen, putting your rush on hold for a moment, though you can still feel it buzzing in your chest - like a big electric ball of anxiety forcing you to stay on high alert. You give Sun a small, weary smile, and one of your eyebrows raises as you play along with him. "Oh, yeah? And what's the toll, then?"

Sun giggles at that, pleased as punch by you giving his antics a moment. He holds a finger up in the air like he's making a grand declaration. "The toll is, of course, one great big snuggly hug with yours truly!" He answers proudly... before more meekly tagging on, "I-If you'd like one. No worries if not."

You look him over for a moment, then sigh, a fond, grateful smile coming to your lips. Your arms raise outward in invitation. "... Bring it in, big guy." A quiet chuckle leaves you, soft and warm even in the weary sound of it.

Sun's rays spin around a quick moment, his hands taking a second to flap, getting the excitement out, before you're scooped up off the ground effortlessly. You're pulled in to be gently tucked against his mechanical shoulder, his arms wrapped around you, keeping you securely aloft, holding you safe and steady and warm. One hand smooths up and down your back, in a slow, comforting rhythm, as your head rests against his neck ruffle. "Theeere we go, friend." Sun hums, his voice quieter, gentler than usual - toned down for your sake. "Is that good? Are we comfy?"

You nod, giving a little hum in the affirmative - that buzzing in your chest a little quieter, and that racing train of thought in your head slowing down for a pit stop. "Mhm..."

Sun's chin rests itself on your head, nuzzling against you just a smidge as he rocks side-to-side, slow and easy. "Glad to hear it! Now... I need you to take a biiig, deep breath for me. Okay? Can we do that?"

You nod once more, then draw a deep, slow breath in through your nose, feeling the air fill your chest up... And then you let it out just as slowly, feeling the air leave you, like it's carrying your tension, your rush, your anxiety with it. When you've finished that breath out, your shoulders slump, calm and at ease. Maybe not entirely relaxed, but... certainly much more than you were just a minute ago. You're okay. Everything's okay. Everything's still going to be there waiting for you when you're done taking a breather. And it's going to be easier to handle after you've given yourself a moment of rest.

You close your eyes and snuggle into the hug a bit more, focussing on your breathing.

After a few moments of that, Sun holding you and rocking you back and forth, quiet for a moment while he lets you sort things out in your head, you pull back a bit. And he pulls back as well, holding you in front of him so that his bright, grinning face can look you over.

"Well, gosh, buddy, you're looking better already!" The hand that was petting your back comes up to lightly brush some hair out of your face. "Now let's see here... Hug, check. Deep breaths, check. Oh, something's missing here, I just can't think of what!"

He makes a big show tapping his chin in thought, his rays retracting and extending again around his head in a wave, making him look like some kind of loading screen symbol. That earns a little giggle from you at his goofiness, which, in turn, immediately makes him brighten up.

"Oh, oh, oh! That's it, friend! There's that wonderful little smile of yours! And my favorite laugh in the whole wide world! Of course that's what was missing, silly me!" He laughs, turning around on his heels with you in his arms to give you a gentle spin, earning another laugh from you, before he sets you down on your own two feet, a little boop on your nose for good measure. "Sooo. What's the verdict, friend? Are we ready to get back out there?"

You nod, still with a little trace of your giggle fit not having quite left you.

"Are we absolutely, positively certain, friend?" He rocks back and forth on his heels a bit, letting his arms swing back at fourth at his sides in a steady, bouncy rhythm.

"Sunny," You put your hand on your hips playfully. "We are absolutely, positively, one million percent certain. I... I got this now." You say, and... you do really mean it now. Everything feels a bit more manageable. You can make it through today at least. Just... one day at a time, one thing at a time. You can handle that, you think. You'll try, at least. And, well... you know you don't have to go it alone. Yeah. You've got this.

Sun gasps dramatically. "One million percent?! Well, goodness gracious, friend, you really mean business! All your tasks oughta be shaking in their boots!" He gives you a big, goofy salute. "Go give the rest of this day what for, then! Godspeed!"

With that, he gives you that salute and closes the door with a grand flourish.

... Only for it to open back up a few seconds later.

"... also hi do you think we can hang out later? I really wanna hang out." He pokes his head back out, fingers tapping together bashfully.

You can't help but chuckle again at that, nor can you help the warm, genuine smile that spreads across your face. "Yeah. I'd like that, Sunny." He gives a giggle of excitement, his rays twirling. "Now... you and I both have jobs to get back to, yeah? Let's get it done, big guy. And I'll see you again when we're done." You give him a nod, picking your forgotten supplies up once more. "... Love ya, Sun Bun. And thanks. For being here for me."

"Aww, love you too, bestest buddy. I'll always be here for you. Always and always! Now... I'll see you tonight!" And with a big, excited wave, the door closes once more, for real this time, your friend skipping away to get back to work.

You watch him go with a smile. Then you look back down at the supplies in your arms.

One more deep breath. In... and out.

Okay.

Let's do this.

[demolition-lesbians]

Rolling Stone #1119 December 9, 2010 - The Playlist Issue

(click for better quality) Here's the playlist if you want to take a listen! Transcript:

Gerard Way: Glam Rock

My Chemical Romance's frontman grew up a metalhead, but when he heard Iron Maiden's lead singer, Bruce Dickinson, cover Mott the Hoople's "All the Young Dudes," he discovered a whole other world, "I knew I had to find out more," Way says, "To some people, glam is just about makeup. To me, it's a very magical thing almost like witchcraft."

1: "Ziggy Stardust" David Bowie, 1972

This song defines glam. It was also the first thing in rock that really challenged people's notions of sexual orientation. Bowie actually sings about a man's ass! 2: "Children of the Revolution" T. Rex, 1972

You always knew Bowie would make it out alive and turn into another character; with Marc Bolan you didn't know that. He came across as very vulnerable. 3: "All the Young Dudes" Mott the Hoople, 1972

This is kind of a cheat because David Bowie wrote it for them, but I always preferred the Mott the Hoople version. By this point, Bowie was talking about the actual glam movement, which is why it's about kids stealing makeup and breaking into unlocked cars. Glam became about the kid in the room, the poster on the wall, putting on a women's short fur coat and eyeliner, with no shirt on, just listening to this music. 4: "Ballroom Blitz" Sweet, 1973

They completely break the fourth wall when the song opens up and they're calling each other by name. We emulated that on our song "Vampire Money." It literally starts out just like "Ballroom Blitz" does. 5: "Cum On Feel the Noize" Slade, 1973

Obviously, everybody knows this for the Quiet Riot version, but when you hear the original you realize just how bold it is. The soundscape they created is probably one of the best out of all the glam-rock bands. 6: "Love Is the Drug" Roxy Music, 1975

Roxy Music took the glam thing and then modified it. Bryan Ferry looks nothing like a glam artist, and that's what I love about him. He's wearing this great suit and he's got short hair and he's so romantic. Maybe some people wouldn't consider Roxy Music a glam band, but I do, for a lot of reasons. A major one is that they used to have Brian Eno behind the keyboard wearing feathers on his shoulders and eye shadow.

7: "Needles in the Camel's Eye" Brian Eno, 1974

Speaking of Eno, this is the first track on his first solo album. It's the glammiest track on the record. As soon as he finishes that song, he's almost over it, and he's moved on to something else. Besides Bowie, Eno is still the most important artist to me of the glam scene. When you heard his first album, you knew it was gonna be his last glam record. He just needed to do it once and he was done. 8: "Clones (We're All)" Alice Cooper, 1980

With "Clones," Alice Cooper was moving into the glam of the future, like this kind of Blade Runner replicant version of glam. Alice Cooper doesn't get enough credit for being a glam artist. A lot of people just say, "Oh, he's shock rock," but I think he's way more Rocky Horror than he is shock rock. 9: "48 Crash" Suzi Quatro, 1973

She's the most unsung glam rocker. She's also the prototype for the Runaways. "48 Crash" is one of her more aggressive songs. She looks amazing on the cover, wearing this black cat suit. Everything about the song is magic. 10: "Personality Crisis" New York Dolls, 1973

They were a lot more punk, but I will always consider the New York Dolls glam by the nature of how they looked and their attitude. They took glam to America and really challenged the sexuality of it. They also had Johnny Thunders, who's basically like the American Mick Ronson.

[ilovesmg3]

[ I wrote this like, a year ago. Cut me some slack. Also yes, this is first person! "I/Me/My." I used to write a lot, maybe I'll get back into it if y'all like this and it does well. ]

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

I couldn't help my lower lip from quivering, I sat on the floor of the salon in Roxy Raceway defeated. The day shift felt like hell, a genuine battlefield of cake, pizza and rotten little brats running around non stop. Disobeying rules was the children's favorite thing to do despite the entirety of them coming straight to the raceway from the daycare on the higher floors.

You'd think they'd have been taught better, but alas, an underpaid Fazbear employee can only dream. I looked around at my surroundings, thankful for the short break. 10 minute breaks every 3 hours was better than nothing, right? I groaned as I heard a knock on the big, red doors. Assuming it was another child asking for help getting into a cart, I put on a brave face and a large smile before a large, grey face poked through the door. "Roxy," I sighed with relief. If I could describe 'Her eyes softened,' it'd be this exact moment.

I smiled warmly and she walked in, closing the door behind her and disregarding the disappointed groans of the children outside that were trailing her. Thankfully they knew enough to not walk into the salon when it was closed, or Roxy herself they'd have to answer to. Roxanne was large, a very tall animatronic. Her high-tech eyes showed emotion somehow, and I could read it the best.

After all, I've worked in this part of the Mega Pizzaplex for the last two years. Shaking myself out of the thoughts, I looked to Roxy as the first tear rolled down my cheek. I hadn't realized how close I was to tears, nor did I realize how fast my smile faded. Roxy's face immediately showed concern, she walked over to me as softly as her large, metal feet would allow.

"(Y/N)?" She whispered softly, bending down to reach my level like she does with the children mid-outburst. "Are you.. okay?" She continued to speak with worry. I couldn't meet her eyes, only shaking my head back and forth, signaling a "no." She nodded, holding out her gloved, metal hand towards me. I hesitated, before taking it. She pulled me up gently, using a claw to wipe my remaining tears. "Do you.. want to talk about it?" I felt myself compelled to look into her bright, golden eyes.

I sighed before taking in a deep breath. "Sure, Roxy." She smiled again, her robotic ears perking slightly, happy to listen. "The kids.. man, they're ruthless.." She cocked her head, the robotic whirring inside her metal chest sped up as she contemplated what I'd said, shortly after she nodded, asking me to continue if comfortable.

"Roxy.. I.. The kids, even though I work here, they continue to constantly berate me and say my hair looks.. awful?" I questioned, turning slightly to look in the mirror. "I guess they're right, I haven't been sleeping or taking care of myself lately." This wasn't the first time I'd found myself ranting to Roxanne, but on day shift was a different story, I'd never felt so.. distraught at work before.

Roxanne sighed, her robotic tone sounding sad. She held my smaller hand in her own, and pulled me towards the salon's chairs. "Wha..?" I questioned and she let out a bark of a laugh. "Come on, you think you can let KIDS get to YOU?" She knew the situation now, and she wanted to help.

Placing me in the chair gently but firmly by pressing my shoulders down, the lights turned on. Music began to play and the kids outside the room began to shout, mad they weren't allowed in. "Don't pay attention to them, (Y/N). You deserve a longer break today."

I sighed in relief, I didn't even care about my one other co-worker on the floor at the moment, just hanging out with Roxy, and taking a goddamned break. She pumped up the salon chair and pulled the hairbrush from the countertop, using her claws to get out the chunk of hair I was forced to pull out of a kids disgusting head earlier.

I looked at the brush in disgust and she chuckled, "Alright, alright. Let me get a new one." I smiled, reaching up to wipe the remaining dew from my eyes and watching in the mirror as behind me, Roxy checked each counter and drawer until she found a fresh, new in-package brush.

The brush was really pretty, like those see-through sparkly pony toys from years past that were rotting in my cousin's closet. She walked back with a pep in her step, gently caressing my face as she looked in the mirror into my eyes. "(Y/N). You are enough. You are so, so beautiful.

You are perfect. You are the best." I felt my eyes widen, hearing the speech she gave to herself during the night shift. I smile softly, pressing my cheek into her cold, yet inviting metal hand. "You are my favorite." She spoke warmly, a tone I hadn't yet heard from her. She moved me back gently into the seat, gripping the brush before gliding it through my hair, pulling calmly and softly through the knots to avoid any pain.

For a robot, she was very good at this. I sighed as I felt the bristles against my scalp, an overall amazing and relieving feeling to just, be tended to by someone who cared about me. She smiled down at me, holding my tips and slicing gently with her claws, somehow working better than scissors. Soon enough, my hair was cleaned up. Dead ends gone, hair brushed and somehow it even looked less greasy, after working around pizza all day, that was an incredible thing to accomplish.

She pulled the make-up from the other side of the counter. Normally, this was for the teenagers or even just kids who wanted a little sparkle on the raceway or downright face-paint, but right now, it was to make me feel better about myself. She turned the chair so I was facing her, she was large.

Her grey, plastic and metal fur was shiny, up close I could see her teeth, yet I didn't feel threatened. For once I felt safe in this establishment, any worries or woes I've felt because of it, were gone in this very moment. Roxy placed the makeup sponge against my under eyes, clearing up the bags for at least a little while, adding a little glitter and sparkle to really finish that "Roxy" look. After she finished she pulled away, looking at me with a grin of pride. Roxy pushed the swivel chair back around so I could see myself. I smiled wide, I looked PERFECT! "Yes you do!" Roxy spoke aloud, I hadn't even realized the words escaped my lips, I jumped up and gave Roxy a hug.

Roxy smiled and grabbed me, lifting me up quickly into a bear hug even Freddy couldn't compare to. She swung me around in her arms and I hugged her back just as tight, "Thank you, Roxy." I whispered, and she howled a laugh in response with a smile, causing the children outside to scream in excitement. I looked at Roxy, we nodded. I put on a smile, but a real one this time, and opened the doors to the salon.

The children all ran in and swarmed me. "No way!! (Y/N) got a make-over by Roxy herself!! They're so cool!!" "I'm so jealous!! They look so good!!" and the likes was heard from the crowd, I looked out the open door to see my co-worker lying on the tiled floor, exhausted. I yelled a quick "Sorry!" before getting back to my shift, Roxy by my side for support with a grin.

[echothefandomeater]

Lean On Your Team

Paring: Agent Galahad Jr x GN!Reader x Agent Whiskey

Genre/Warning: Talks of blood, injury on the shoulder and passing out in the shower. Eggsy and Whiskey argue (but what's new there.) The reader is also a kingsman agent so it’s suggested that they’re British.

Words: 908

Summary: Hiding an injury from two Agents argue a lot and who care a lot about you is easy until you pass out in the bath and they have to help you.

A/N: Does this make sense? Probably not since I wrote this from my late night writing inspiration. Apologies if Eggsy and Whiskey seem out of character, this is the first time I’ve written them properly. I’ve been having massive Kingsman brain rot so if you like this piece feel free to send any other requests for Kingsman characters (literally any of them from the first two movies.)

The bickering between them was starting to get on your nerves. 

“If you would have been careful with your shot-“ Eggsy cut Whiskey off. 

“Well if you hadn’t tried to tie him up as I was shooting-” this time, you cut them off.

“Can you both just shut the fuck up?!” Both of the men looked taken back at your sudden outburst “You have been arguing ever since we left and in case you couldn’t tell, all three of us are tired! So please I would like to get to the safehouse without developing a headache.”

This seemed to shut both agents up and the silence felt like heaven to your ears.

You all continued walking. You looked down at your shoulder and lifted your suit jacket lightly. You held back a grimace at the blood not wanting to worry the already injured Whiskey and Eggsy about your injury, you would just clean it up when you got to your own room.

—-

Finally you all arrived, in true southern fashion Whiskey took off his shoes before entering the safe house and collapsing on the couch, Eggsy followed suit and looked like he was about to fall asleep right there. You on the other hand began making your way up the stairs to your temporary room. You couldn’t wait to get these disgusting clothes off and put on fresh ones.

You shut the door and went into the bathroom turning on the shower, even just the steam building up from the hot shower made you sigh in relief. You carefully dragged the clothes off your body, occasionally your clothes would stick to the wound making you hiss from the pain.

Eventually you got into the shower and it felt like such a relief, such a relief that you started getting sleepy, you tried to catch yourself before you fell asleep but the last thing you remember seeing was the ceiling.

—---

The crash heard from the bathroom had both agents up and off the couch with weapons ready. Eggsy nodded silently towards the stairs and Whiskey nodded back.

Slowly with Eggsy leading they made their way up the stairs with minimum creaking from the stairs. They made their way towards your room hearing the sound of the shower, they pushed the door open and Eggsy called out your name, when no response came he made his way to the bathroom. 

He stopped nervously, his hand hovered over the door handle, scared what he would find behind the door. Images of you lying there dead because someone was here and they didn’t check flashed through his head. He was terrified to lose you after what happened to Roxie albeit his feelings were less platonic but he still couldn’t stand it, he never wanted to lose anyone like that again.

Whiskey watched him and could see the nerves on his face, he could admit he was having the same feelings of fear but he couldn’t stand by so he pushed Eggsy out the way. He pushed the door open.

The sight of you bleeding passed out in the shower made both their hearts jump. 

—--

Next time you woke up it was in the bed. You opened your eyes slowly and squinted at the low light of the room. What caught your attention though was both Eggsy and Jack watching you from the bottom of bed, no suit jackets or ties and sleeves rolled up, Jack didn’t even have his hat on. 

They were both frowning, Eggsy had his hands in his pockets and Whiskey had his crossed across his chest. You spoke and it came out very dry. “Don’t tell me you two have been arguing again” neither of them responded.

Jack left the room muttering something about water to Eggsy and he nodded. Once Jack had left Eggsy approached you “when were you planning on telling us you got stabbed?” He spoke to you like he did to Galahad Sr when he was reckless and it made you scowl. Still you made no eye contact with him.

“Agent Percival” The use of your codename made your eyes automatically snap up to his, the look he gave you made it clear he wasn’t giving up so easily.

You huffed “I was going to deal with it myself but I didn’t exactly plan on passing out in the shower.” His eyes narrowed.

“You seem to have forgotten the most vital part of your training, Percival” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion “teamwork.” You rolled your eyes at how cheesy it sounded when he said it.

Jack came back into the room with a glass of water and a pack of painkillers, he handed them to you. “He’s right, it's something they nail into our heads at Statesman, there's a reason multiple Agents are assigned to cases” once again you rolled your eyes before finally speaking up. 

“Okay I get it! You don’t need to treat me like a child just because I’m less experienced than you both” You snapped at them before taking two painkillers out the packet and taking them with the water you were given.

Finally Eggsy sighed “Just next time…” you prepared yourself for another lecture but he trailed off like he was unsure what to say.

“Ask for our help when you need to” Jack finished for him. Your pissed off attitude retreated slightly seeing both their faces soften an inch.

“Yea I will… I’ll make sure I do”

[weirdmageddon]

since hes open to feedback im considering talking to james roach about giving jade the justice she deserves after her narrative shafting in act 6 and one-dimensional ooc-ness (and also being a plot device deprived of agency) in the epilogues. if i do im probably going to link to this post……

so james if i sent this to you and you’re reading this, hi! :)

you say, “i want you to know if youre having problems with the story you can come to me with it and i will hear you out”. first of all you are such a good dude and have such a good open honest approach to the fans. i need to get that out there, because i know you’re just as much a fan of these characters and world are we are. secondly, i don’t know what your plans for homestuck beyond canon are, but dave and jade’s poor handling is a problem in both homestuck canon (act 6, even act 5 fucking them over with “tell, don’t show”; see the latter half of section 1 of the post at > Dave: Deploy cloning apparatus. and section 2) and post-canon that has yet to be addressed.

i understand the nuances of making things flow in a story; things that have already been established can’t be simply retconned. i wrote this post knowing that in mind and hopefully working around that into believably timed and justified/needed arcs gives it more potential

jade is a character i care about so much, and many fans also. her dynamic with dave was one of my favorites but the resolution to their separation…is not even really a resolution. it’s hard to talk about one without the other since theyve always been narratively intertwined. or at least jade has

remember how they musically collaborated more than the other kids? (crystalanthemums is their surprisingly tender song dont forget. i saw that the weird troll grub versions of objects make a comeback in the upd8; make music a relevant part of homestuck in-universe again too </3) dave sending her sbahj furry poster in the mail? the first ones to use a collaborative fraymotif in the comic? kringlefucker and conksuck boot? literally collaborating on creating the right seed for the new universe? and then dave died in jade’s arms and they were separated for 3 years and then that never gets touched on because of the retcon and all the other endgame shit going on (and lets be real grimbark jade from before the retcon wasn’t a satisfying reunion either). we get like, a brief exchange of dialogue at the very very end that made you want to see MORE of them after the battle but it. doesnt happen.

and then in the epilogues jade gets warped into this oddly hypersexual ooc one-dimensional character meant to narratively get in the way of davekat and it’s so awkward and uncomfortable for them. and even THEN in meat timeline gets her agency revoked by the narrative with alt calliope. and in candy dave realizes he’s gay (i thought he was explicitly bi? didnt he call jane hot multiple times both pre-and post-retcon, and once call roxy a “choice babe��� in pajamas before he knew it was his ectomom?? if you’re actually gay and in denial why would you have these subconscious freudian blunders). and being married to jade gnaws at him because of it which is. unsatisfying i guess and isn’t consistent with dave’s established sexuality…and then he dies leaving his probably concerned wife and becomes a robot. even if the “point” is that the epilogues are metanarrative commentary about storytelling and candy represents the kind of fanfic that goes off the rails with fanservice it doesn’t feel good when i still care about these characters and their established canons. and a lot of people are in the same camp as me regarding this. it’s still an uncomfortable resolution for their relationship

i really want to see jade’s arc overcoming being used as a puppet by the narrative and the space aspect. just some things to think about / consider that have been running through my head: she’s a witch, right? isn’t what she’s supposed to do is actively bend the rules of her aspect? feferi bended the rules of life by asking the horrorterrors to create dream bubbles so the deceased could still sort of “live” which had a massive narrative impact. who exactly determines that being spacebound means you are fated to be passive and alone? the author? alt calliope? how do we know alt calliope can be trusted or if she’s just projecting her experiences as the most passive class possible onto jade, who ironically has an active manipulation class but is forced to be passive for some reason? normal calliope wasn’t right about everything classpect-related either.

ultimately these things are up to you. you’re still the director of course. but i’m speaking to you, as equally caring of these characters as you and everyone on the team, as a hypothetical suggestion or just something to consider for a jade arc: i think it would do such good to jade and the comic as a whole to see her speak to the manager and recognize the power she has and take back the reigns over her own life and dignity. jade is MAD that she had her own possibilities for socialization and agency taken away from her. and with floralmarsupial, my beloved mutual floral who i went to homestuck high together with, i KNOW the potential they possess to write a compelling arc for jade harley. i think everyone knows too lol floral is THE compelling deep jade harley fanwork big name fan. i dont know what we got to lose. with you guys in charge now, and with the last we see of jade in hs^2 (now hs:bc) fighting callie’s influence and advocating for her own agency, really the only way to go from here for jade is up. (assuming she doesn’t permadie of peanut but i doubt that’s going to happen since she’s one of the original kids and it wouldn’t be satisfying storytelling. and it’s homestuck)

this statement so ripe with potential to me ^ and we’re left on a cliffhanger with jade going in this direction

i want jade and dave to be close friends who care about each other a lot and do silly stuff together again. this isn’t even a call to make davejade canon; it doesnt have to be romantic—i dont want a davekat davejade war to break out, you know? i know you’re trying to balance fan demands. but i just loved their dynamic a lot and i MISS it so much, homestuck act 6 didnt give us this and i wish their reunion had more that went into it. we’re past that point though

i want jade and dave to have a talk that’s like old times. something that isn’t awkward as hell or about sexual relations or drama or whos fucking who. just something for the two of them. something that grounds them in what made homestuck so compelling in the first place: character and friendships and these kind of interactions

i want to see them collaborate again. an idea i have is maybe they start a band or something since they’re both musically talented and also live together so they can make stuff together in person now. you’re a music guy you get it. tangle buddies. jam buddies

and maybe something more serious that concerns just the two of them. post-retcon dave never talked to jade about his thoughts when they fought bec noir right? knowing that jade would inevitably kill him with bullets through bec, but he couldnt warn her because he knows she wouldn’t go through with it, creating a doomed timeline? so jade thought all that time she killed him by accident…..what about all that guilt she must harbor? the first person she had in-person contact with since she was probably four years old, her best friend online, and accidentally killed him within just a few hours of meeting him? and never got to talk about it with him, let alone anyone, after three years? hello?? :(

these are the final lines of the last pesterlog between jade and dave before their 3-year separation (and basically all of act 6)

so uh…..this exchange really openly invites some kind of talk to take place even if it’s long overdue. among other things maybe. they need to hug or something. jade’s touch starvation is real, but not everything needs to be sexualized about touch. she’s lonely and starved of affection but i feel like it would be more meaningful if it wasn’t sexualized. just really basic platonic primal cloth mother needs. just like..both being human beings and having basic needs like this that jade’s been deprived of. who’s the person she would feel most comfortable going to? who does she have the richest history with throughout the webcomic? dave, right? her online best friend since childhood that always cared a lot about her? they have stuff to talk about

i feel like that would address the issue people had with jade’s out of left-field promiscuity in the epilogues and even leftovers of it in hs^2. not only do i think primal platonic touch starvation would be a more meaningful and evocative type of interaction to give them at some point, it wouldn’t rock the boat or create any ship drama (davekat has long since sailed and most people seem to be on board with it) and it would probably be really positive representation of these sorts of things which not only throws a bone to aroace people but just depicting this sort of thing normalizes the fact that two people can be close and not necessarily in an official relationship.

this is a good transition point to this post also which is basically an extension to this one. it’s exactly the issues i had. it’s on the nature of what they had going and how much they mean to each other but how the storytelling held them back when it was unnecessary

this breaks my heart. mr. roach and hs:bc writing team please i miss my favorite blorbo duo being happy in each other’s company. they were such good friends but circumstances pulled them apart. i miss when they created music together and talked about their interests and exchanged quips. i am such a well of ideas for stuff like this. show us how much they mean to each other again

if youre still reading this james thanks for hearing me out. if you wanna pass on to the writing team to look at and get their feedback on this i’d be so so thankful

“and to think that after all this he still chose to save her, like always, probably knowing he had little to no chance, just because he cares for her, her life and who she is beyond this moment, really meant a lot for them. i really, really was mad that this would be the last time they would truly ever be together in a way that to me mattered” — vintagegamebro

[when-hyperfocus-hits]

This short story is inspired by @puhpandas ! I thought it was a headcanon that had a lot of room for ✨ angst ✨ so I wrote a little something… enjoy!

Original Post

—

“I don’t get it, Cassie. Why did you go out of your way… to save him?”

“He’s my best friend… We’ve been friends ever since my birthday party… And I always felt bad he never had a house of his own… He was lonely. And he must feel even more lonely now.”

Roxy tilts her head at me, and even though I can’t tell her expression, her small hum makes me believe that she’s at least trying to understand.

I explain further, “My Dad didn’t know Gregory didn’t have a place to say. Gregory said not to tell him. He made me promise, even though he comes to our house when it’s thunderstorming and he needs shelter. I didn’t know what to tell my Dad when he asked about it.”

Roxy appears to be thinking. “Well… what happened?” She sounds actually a bit curious.

I get lost in my thoughts. He visited our house almost every day after my dad got off work. My dad didn’t think anything of it at first… but when Gregory started staying late nights, my dad started getting suspicious something was going on… but I couldn’t tell him.

One night, it was stormy out, one of those really bad storms that rattle houses and light up the whole sky with white bolts of lightning. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and how the wind could blow his tiny shelter away, or how the thunder scared him, or…

But a knock at my window interrupts my thoughts. I already know who it is; he always comes over when it gets that bad.

“Gregory…!” I don’t waste any time getting up and opening the window for him. “You’re soaked! Why didn’t you come sooner—?”

He waves me off, stepping inside on a towel that’s always there that I keep just in case.

I figure he doesn’t want to talk about it now. “Want dry clothes?” I turn around, getting some clothes from my drawer that I keep for him when this happens, but when I turn back, Gregory is kneeling, curled up on the towel on the ground.

“New clothes?” I hand them to him.

“Thanks,” He mutters, looking up at me.

I cautiously try to bring up the subject again. “I didn’t see you at the pizzaplex today… what happened?” When he doesn’t answer right away, I add, “I missed you.”

He sighs. “…I got in trouble again. They almost got me this time.”

I look away. “If… you stayed with us… you wouldn’t have to keep sneaking in for stuff—“

“Cassie…” He groans and curls up again. “I told you, I can’t.” He mutters.

“You can’t keep… hiding. We can help you…”

“Can we not talk about this??” He snaps, but immediately lowers his tone when he says, “Please?”

I don’t answer, pacing around my room a bit before asking, “So you didn’t eat today?”

“Just some snacks,” He says simply.

Despite how tense it feels to talk right now, I ask, “Are you hungry….?”

“I don’t want to take your food…”

“No, no, we have leftovers. My dad made pasta tonight.”

“At least it’s better than dumpster pizza,” He chuckles, but stops when he sees I don’t find it as funny as he does. “Yeah, pasta is fine…” He adds quietly.

“My dad is probably still awake but hopefully he’ll be in his room or something…”

He just silently follows me downstairs, eyes fixed at the ground.

“Cassandra, what are you doing up this late—?”

My dad’s voice makes both of us jump.

“And— Gregory, what are you doing here?”

“He didn’t feel safe at his house—!” I butt in without thinking.

Gregory shoots me a look, and I already know I’ve messed up.

“Why?” My dad’s eyebrows furrow deeply into that line in between his eyebrows.

“I… I don’t necessarily feel unsafe…” Gregory starts but my dad isn’t finished.

“You’ve been coming over a lot here lately, Greg. Not that you’re bad company— quite the opposite— It’s just I’m worried about you. If your family is treating you badly—“

“No! No… I’m okay.”

My dad’s brows remain furrowed but he backs off. “Okay. If you ever need anything—“

“He’s hungry,” I jump in to end the conversation before it escalates.

My dad seems to buffer for a moment. “Right… Food. We have pasta.”

“Yep, I know.” Gregory flashes him a tight smile.

My dad eventually gives us our servings of fettuccine alfredo, saving the smallest serving for himself. But when Gregory and I go back upstairs, Gregory can’t seem to bring himself to eat. He just stares at the ground, almost completely lost in thought.

“Gregory….?”

It’s too dark to see at first, but when he starts to shake, I realize.

“Greg, don’t— don’t cry… Why are you—“

“Leave me alone, Cass—“ He says with tears in his voice.

“Is it the pasta?”

“No—“

I don’t want him to cry. That’s all I care about right now. “I’m sorry I said that to my dad— I didn’t mean to— It just came out—“

“No, Cassie! It’s not that—!” He practically slams his palms on his eyes in frustration.

“Then what is it??”

“I—“ He stops to take in a shaky breath. “I don’t want to go back…”

My vision blurrs as my ears start to grow hot. “…But you shouldn’t have to…. You can stay with us…”

“I can’t…”

“Why??” My voice breaks.

“Your dad will figure out… and it’ll be complicated and everything—“

“But it’ll be worth it in the end…” I kneel next to him.

He swipes at his eyes with his sleeve. He pauses. “You really think so?”

“Yes…! Yes…” And for once, I can actually feel a little hope.

He looks at me with red-rimmed eyes, but under all the stress and sadness in his expression, I can tell he’s feeling a little hope too.

It lingers only for a moment before it dies out again. “I can’t…” He whispers, more tears slipping down his face.

A knock at my door makes us both turn.

“Greg…” Dad’s back again, and I know he’d be even more worried that we’re both crying. “You’re not okay.”

“No— I am—“

“No, you’re not.” He states, not in frustration, but in firm concern. “Is someone hurting you at home?”

“No— Nothing is wrong—“ But the way he starts to tremble makes him even less convincing.

“You’re shaking, Greg. Clearly something is wrong…!”

“I— No—“ His face contorts as he cries more.

“I’m calling the police—“

“No—!” Gregory shoots up, his eyes wide and full of panic.

“We have to help you, Greg! Trust me, it’ll be okay.”

“No, no, no— You can’t—“

“It’s okay; you don’t have to protect whoever it is.”

Gregory tries to protest but he’s already reaching for his phone.

“Don’t worry,” He tries to reassure Gregory, but he just seems to get even more panicked.

“No! Please! You can’t—“

“Gregory—“ I hold him back, trying to give a hug or anything to give him reassurance but he pushes me away again. But not just me, he pushes my dad and I away, bolting down the stairs, despite my dad trying to chase him down.

“Gregory!” I scream desperately as he slams his way out the door and into the pouring rain. My dad follows after but I can’t seem to move. In fact, I don’t think I can do anything at all.

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe…

“Kid! Breathe!” Roxy shakes me out of it.

“Sorry—“ I gasp for air. “I didn’t realize…”

“Don’t be sorry. Just watch yourself.”

Her paw is heavy on me when she rests it on my shoulder. “I didn’t know he was… homeless. If we knew— If Vanessa knew, we wouldn’t be so hard on him.”

“…I haven’t seen him since,” I add quietly. “That’s why I’m looking for him Roxy… He deserves a better life. A place where he can hide and be safe… You understand, right?”

After a moment, she nods slightly. “Yeah… I guess I do… I’m sorry, Cassie. And if I ever see him again… I’ll say sorry to him too.”

“If…” I whisper, feeling hope vanish again like it vanished in his eyes that night.

[nekropsii]

Also that June post sucked I wrote it on sleep meds at like 6 in the morning I articulated myself like shit. Not an excuse, but it is an explanation.

Further rambling under the cut.

I was trying to make the point that it’s deeply frustrating to me how much of a big deal was made out of it (in a negative sense) and how much harassment ensued especially right in the moment when nothing had even really happened yet and still hasn’t really happened but I said that Badly.

The JKR comparison was not a statement of there being any bigotry present, it’s just literally the only example most people - me included - can think of when talking about an author confirming some kind diversity before it even happens, if we see it at all. I’ll admit part of why I’m so cynical is that I grew up in an era where queerphobic jokes and queerbait were just about the only thing you could get in mainstream media, and everyone would still tout that as if it’s real representation, so I’m always prepared for people to just be lying to me.

So, I see that June gets confirmed in 2019 because someone won a treasure hunt, and we still haven’t really seen her, and I’m just instinctively deeply skeptical it’s even gonna happen. Especially considering we got that fuckin’ Roxy Detransition arc first.

Another sticky point is the canonicity of Postcanon, period. I do not see any works outside of Homestuck proper to be canon, especially not in the way that Homestuck itself is canon. I’ve said this several times on my blog and didn’t feel it worth reiterating but it’s kind of important, especially given the JKR comparison. I think June is awesome, it’s a really cool progression of her character, especially considering Homestuck was once pop culture and she’s the literal main character. But part of why I kept saying it was “literally nothing” was because I was operating under the mindset of “it’s not even canon anyway, why are you harassing people for being excited about it?”. It’s stupid to act like a character or person coming out as trans ruins everything for you in general, but it was especially stupid to me for this to be such a federal fucking issue when basically all we had to go off of at the time was a Tweet, especially in a fandom that proclaims itself to be so progressive, and especially when so many people who were denouncing June as being “not real” due to being in Postcanon got so excited when Roxy was turned into a trans dude. It’s just stupid and unfair and transparent, and I hate it.

The Junecourse situation was super fucking messy and really hard to navigate, and it frustrated me a lot because a lot of people were being kind of silly or even just outright bigoted. It was strange that people got so mad about it, it was strange that some people acted like June was a real person, it was strange that people got badly harassed no matter what they did or said. It was stressful and weird, and it was dumb to me that all that warring and all those lies were circling around a tweet, for the most part, and plenty are still operating under the simple tweet confirmation.

I should acknowledge that there’s apparently more than just the lone tweet now. I’m sure I’ve seen all that before, but I’ve got pretty bad memory issues and, again, I was writing it at 6 am on sleep meds, so it genuinely spaced my brain. That is completely on me and I apologize for contributing to false narratives. The post’s been deleted. I’m not asking for forgiveness or anything, I’m just explaining myself. It was a bad post, but I wasn’t making it out of malice, though I do recognize that in situations like this, intent doesn’t matter nearly as much as actions and impact does. That was a failure on my part. I’ve since deleted it.

I’m apologizing here not because there’s a fire being lit under me or anything - I’m not being pressured - but because this is a genuinely important issue to me. Sadly, I am merely an ally and still in the active process of reading theory, so I lack the general polish one acquires from lived experience and actual real learnedness. Transmisogyny is not a reality I have to live with every waking moment of my life, and as a TME man it is a systemic force that works directly in my favor, so I’m liable to accidentally perpetuate it, even if it’s something I do not believe in personally and am making strides to, for lack of a better, less cringe-inducing term, “be a better ally” about.

TLDR; I fucked up and made a sloppy post that contributed to false narratives surrounding a confirmed Transfem character and the discussion of her online. It sat around 77 notes as of deleting, though most were thankfully just likes rather than there being a whole lot of spread. Still sucks, though, and I’m sorry.

Thank you for reading.

[myloveforhergoeson]

That's All She Wrote - Chapter 31

Chapter Index

Find me on wattpad + ao3!

Chapter 31: The Music Or The Misery ~ 15k

“Mr. Rocque, Kelly, please,” Roxanne pleaded, shaking fingers threaded, palms pressed together. She would’ve gotten down on her knees to beg if she, the band, and their two bosses weren’t already in the back of the limousine headed to Brand New Day’s album release party. “The Big Time Rush booking fee is for interviews and photoshoots, and- and millionaire’s birthday parties. Not for an advertising campaign for a band no one has ever heard of!” 

Though she winced at her desperate tone of voice, she hoped one final appeal would make the two adults change their minds. Despite spending the last 24 hours making similar statements since Gustavo’s call at the movie theater, neither of them had budged in their decision for the band to attend the party. She’d even taken the fight all the way to Griffin’s office, sitting atop the Rocque Records building and adorned in the strangest taxidermy the assistant had ever seen, hoping that even he would think it an odd request. 

Turns out that had been a mistake; Roxy had severely underestimated how much Griffin seemed to like her. America’s fourth most powerful CEO was no better than his money-hungry adversaries and deep down she knew that… She just wanted someone other than her friends to take her feelings into account just this once. 

With Griffin’s word as law, and whatever Gustavo was afraid of in Obdul’s briefcase when the tall man tapped on it, the band was set to attend the gathering and adhere to Brand New Day’s request. 

When Kelly sighed, shifting her gaze from the soft glow of her BlackBerry in the back of the dark limo to the writer, she just slowly shook her head. “You heard Griffin earlier, Roxy. They’re paying customers and Rocque Records has a contract to fulfil. As much as you dislike these boys-”

“These two,” The assistant automatically corrected, feeling James’ hand slide onto her shoulder as the limo turned a corner. “These two,” Kelly continued after a brief pause, “There’s a lot of money at stake here.”

That was the same answer the talent scout had given her all day - the same corporate talk about contract fulfillment, legal obligation, and reputation. Bullshit. 

 “Griffin said we have to,” Gustavo added in a flat tone, red glasses matching the tint of a neon sign zooming by outside the window behind him, suggesting that he wasn’t all too thrilled with the night before them either. “So we have to. Set aside whatever crap has you all up in a twist about this party! It’s only a few hours, okay?” 

With a huff, Roxy crossed her arms and pushed back into her seat, watching the endless stream of cars out the tinted window beside the man’s head. Most of the time she and Gustavo were on the same page, especially when it came to breaking down emotional barriers in the writer’s room. If he was able to help her draw out the words to place on the page when she was struggling in the past, why was he so incapable of seeing her irritation now? 

“We’ll be okay, Rox!” From across the way, Carlos reached out to pat her knee, welcome warm contact on skin that felt as cold as ice. The charm from the bracelet she’d made him for Christmas jingled around his wrist. “The night will be over before you know it!”

Carlos’ optimism never ceased to amaze Roxy; She wished she could feel even a small portion of it at the present, but her confusing amalgamation of fear and anger had been busy building up in her system all day. Too much time had already been wasted worrying about Mag and Dani since they’d moved to Hollywood. Past memories playing in her head like a bad movie plagued her dreams, causing her to reach out for James in the darkness of her bedroom, only for the emptiness to creep in when she remembered a few walls separated them in 2-H and 2-J. Horrible flashes of whatever may transpire tonight took hold of her imagination when she was awake, only fueling the fire of emotions rooted in her belly. 

And even that felt ridiculous because Mag and Dani were just people she used to be friends with, not the supervillains of epic proportions her mind was making them out to be. The hurt and confusion then mingled with shame for expecting the worst from them, dragging up situations in which they’d looked out for her at local gigs or sat up and listened to her complain on the phone all hours of the night while she tried to work out a new tune or melody. All the fun they’d had playing together, advertising for their band wherever they could, and drawing up big plans to hit the big time together.

Then, the cycle of emotions started anew, because if they were such great people, how could they so easily take her work and pass it off as their own? How could they be Brand New Day without her?

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Roxy tilted her head back into the hard headrest, focusing on the hum of the limo’s engine since she’d been too fatigued to pick a radio station, and took a deep breath in an attempt to stave off the emotional overload.

Beside Carlos, messing with the material of his lap belt, Kendall nodded at his friend’s words. “Just a few photos for the news outlets and some social media posts saying how much we love the new album, then we’re so far out of here everyone will forget about Brand New Day in a week.”

Though both of them knew that the last part probably wouldn't be true, Roxy wanted to believe it anyway. Internally, she cursed her past self for all the time and effort she’d put into promoting Brand New Day to friends, strangers, and whoever would listen, wishing she could take back all the wishes on shooting stars in clear Minnesota skies that one day they’d blow up and get to move out of their nothing town. 

Too little, too late, the girl thought, feeling the unpleasant sting of her nails cutting into her palm as they balled into tight fists in her lap. At least we all got what we wanted in the end.

James must have noticed her discomfort; The hand on her shoulder trailed down her arm to unwind the mess she might have made of her palm with her fresh manicure. 

“You also… Don’t have to come…” Logan tried to add but quickly winced when Roxy countered his comment with a nasty glare. 

“Are you kidding me? I’m the only one who knows what those two are like! This is all part of their plan-” 

���Roxanne.” Gustavo cut her off with a grating exhale of her name, which was probably a good thing, because as far as she knew, there was no plan. For a few seconds, the humming of the engine was the only sound heard between the seven. “Being in the entertainment industry means sometimes you have to do things you don’t like to do. Do you think I enjoy playing babysitter for the five of you? No! But if I want to stay Hollywood’s number one producer, that’s what I have to do!”

“Oh, stop it Gustavo, you flatter us too much!” Kendall gasped with a sarcastic smile in a clear attempt to ease some of the tension radiating off of his boss and assistant, which calmed Roxy only slightly. At least one of them was able to keep a level head at the present. “We all know you love us too much but simply can’t admit it - out loud or otherwise.”

Grumbling something under his breath, Gustavo turned to look at Kelly’s BlackBerry, signifying Kendall had won that part of the conversation for now. 

The frontman looked over to her too, for approval or something else she wasn’t sure, but she did catch the upward quirk of his lips. Momentarily, some of the tension left her body and she finally let her head rest on her boyfriend’s shoulder. If there was one thing she could count on tonight, it was her four friends. 

Like it or not, this was happening, so she might as well suck it up and be the bigger person. In public at least; The big tub of chocolate chip ice cream in her freezer and the floor of her kitchen were already calling her name no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. 

Even if it wasn’t his intention, Roxy found comfort in Kendall’s subtle smirk. As good as friends Mag and Dani had been to her in the past, their bond didn’t even come close to the one she shared with the Big Time Rush boys and her new friends at the Palm Woods. So, she took it as a sign. One that screamed “We’ve got your back, Roxy! Always!” in bright, flashy colors, big enough to rival the magnitude of the Hollywood sign looking out over the city they so loved. 

Maybe James had noticed it too, his hand tightening in hers before pressing a light kiss into her hair. The two savored the last bit of physical contact they’d have before the prying eyes of everyone at the party because neither of them needed to add a potential relationship exposé to the list of things that might happen that evening. “Everything will be alright, baby. I promise.”

***

Bright, blinding flashes of light escaped the cameras of the photographers lined up in front of the party venue, giving Roxy the perfect opportunity to slip out of the limousine’s right door while her friends took up the attention from the left. 

Whoever had arranged this album release had gone to a lot of trouble to ensure there was mass media coverage, so the assistant figured she might as well use that fact to her advantage. No one cared about the people behind the scenes as long as celebrities were present. 

The chill of the Los Angeles winter air didn’t bite as much as it did back in Minnesota and Roxy’s nose wrinkled at the bitter scent of gasoline as the limo pulled away from the curb. Folding her arms over one another did little to curb the goosebumps forming over her skin; The temperature and her onslaught of unpleasant emotions were working in tandem to make her as uncomfortable as possible. 

While the boys took their time walking down the black carpet rolled outside the venue doors, it gave the writer some time to scope the place out before entering. From the outside, the building appeared somewhat run-down - chipping white paint revealing dark brown metal underneath, lights on the outer walls flickering, cracks in the sidewalk - but based on the other buildings around which were styled with the impeccable glamor of Hollywood, she figured it must have been made to give off the air of abandonment. 

People from Los Angeles are so weird…

However, the venue called back memories of the ancient dives and abandoned warehouses the punks of Duluth would take over for nights at a time, constructing makeshift stages in rooms covered baseboard to ceiling in graffiti to play shows. She, Mag, and Dani had only been to a handful of gigs like that, mostly preferring to stick to the basement and small local music venue circuits, but warehouse shows had been something they’d talked about doing more before the band’s untimely breakup. 

Brand New Day was already one album in and still getting to accomplish even more of the goals they’d made ages ago. 

Kelly and Gustavo trailed a few feet behind the boys, showing the invitation they’d received at Rocque Records last night to the doormen, and Roxy a few feet behind them, presenting her own hand-delivered invitation. The processes seemed far too formal for her taste, considering the three of them used to crash house shows uninvited all the time.  

The inside of the venue wasn’t starkly different from the outside, it still had the same general theming but was paid far more attention to. While not as large as a commercial building, it was slightly larger than the two dance studios of Rocque Records put together; There was a moderate amount of guests present. Around her, the white walls practically shone, as though they’d been scrubbed twenty times over, the wooden floor was waxed to perfection, and the high ceilings made it perfect for the chatter of the party patrons to carry appropriately while not making the space seem too packed. 

If she had to wager, she’d bet Mag and Dani weren’t given creative control, like Big Time Rush wasn’t at their first album release party, and their producer had likely taken that duty on to impress investors, Galactic Records employees, and even fans.

Fans, Roxy’s mind echoed, causing an unpleasant lump to lodge itself in her throat. Eyes sweeping over the floor allowed her to spot a table filled to the brim with drinks and hors d'oeuvres, likely her next stop, a makeshift stage in the back of the venue with a dance floor cordoned off, an area with tables and chairs, and a section where a long line of teens who didn’t look much older than her and her friends were lined up. In front of the line, a small plastic table, piled high with CD jewel cases, and, of course, Mag and Dani, chatting with attendees, signing autographs, and taking pictures with each and every person in line.  

It probably would have been a good idea to listen to the album before attending the party, just to know which of her private thoughts were currently being aired out in the world in the form of music, but when she’d opened up SnoobTube and saw “Heartswell Summer” on the home page, she’d slammed the device shut so fast she feared she may have shattered the screen. 

When it came to Big Time Rush and their musical accolades, Roxy tended to ignore what she could. She had no idea how many of their songs had been promoted by SnoobTube, the number of streams their songs had earned, the types of rankings on Billboard charts - Except for “Til I Forget About You” which James told her almost entered the Hot 100 - or the fan favorites. Music taste was so personal and subjective, she didn’t want to learn how the public felt about her own favorite Big Time Rush songs or which ones were more popular than others. 

If she were to start caring about meaningless numbers and public perception, she feared she would lose sight of the real reason she wrote songs and forgo personal art and expression for the sake of others. At their audition, she’d promised Gustavo she wasn’t interested in working for him for money or fame; That was a vow she intended to keep. 

Mag and Dani on the other hand, seemed to have lost sight of that already, basking in the attention their fans were giving them at the signing table as she glanced over one final time before making her way to the refreshments. 

The band and their bosses were somewhere on the other side of the venue curating the social media posts they’d been contracted to make, leaving the assistant to her own devices. Everything would be fine if her friends stayed on the opposite side and the other two stayed at the table until the performance Mag had mentioned at her door the other night. 

Whatever it took for this night to end, she’d be happy with. 

At the very least, whoever was catering the event had a wonderful array of delicious-looking foods on display. The smell of freshly baked bread and sweets curled around the assistant’s nose - so aromatic she envisioned herself floating over to the table like a character in a Sunday morning cartoon. Though attempting to enjoy herself this evening felt like a long shot, this was a good place to start. 

From the white tablecloth, Roxy took a small plate and piled it high with as many sweet things as she could find. Even if she and her old friends didn’t have too much in common anymore, it seemed as though she’d be able to rely on their superior taste in deserts for just one night. 

With a comical amount of food stacked up - Roxy told herself it was all to share with the boys because that’s what a good assistant would do - when she got to the end of the gorgeous display, she spied a brownie that she absolutely needed to have and reached for it. 

“Roxanne?” someone asked from behind her, and the writer slowly around, feeling like she’d been caught in the middle of something she shouldn’t have been doing. “I see you haven’t changed one bit!”

Eyes landing on the teenager in front of her, the fake smile Roxy’d been forcing all night slowly loosened into a real one. “Sydnee?”

The bright purple blush on Sydnee’s cheeks stood out against the brown rose of her cheeks, just as colorful as the rest of her outfit. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”

Neither was Roxy, admittedly, but why wouldn’t Dani’s girlfriend fly out for her partner’s album release party? 

Though the chuckle she let out was humorless, the assistant set her plate down and wrapped the far taller girl into a hug. Despite her issues with her old band, that was no reason to hold a grudge against those who had fallen out of her life because of it. She just wished she’d realized she might have to see others from her past at the party before running into them. “I was in the area. And the band I work for got an invite, so…”

Sydnee squeezed her back with such intensity Roxy feared one of her ribs might crack. “Now that I think about it, Dani mentioned you were staying in the same hotel! So, what? Got your big break after leaving the band? Have I heard any of your stuff on the radio?”

The question wasn’t meant to be condescending, and nothing in Sydnee’s tone made it sound that way, but Roxy was just the right mix of anxious and stressed to take it as such. Thanking the musical gods Sydnee didn’t ask her why she left the band, she took a breath and answered. 

“Not on any of the stations you listen to,” Smile faltering, she referred to Sydnee’s love of reggaeton. “Daddy Yankee and I don’t run in the same circles.” 

As if it were the funniest joke in the world, the other girl tilted her beautiful features back, a handful of long, lilac-beaded braids falling over her shoulders as they shook. “Come on! You know I’m all about Today’s Top 40 when those two fools aren’t around.” 

Thumb jerking in the direction of the signing table, the euphoria of seeing an old friend was virtually eliminated when Roxy remembered the real reason she was there. The both of them still had a huge line of fans to get through; Currently engaged with a pair of teenage girls at the signing table. 

“My fools are over there,” She shared, pointing in the opposite direction of the party space, where James, Kendall, Carlos, and Logan were all posing for a photo Kelly was taking, each one of them holding a copy of the album Barely Hanging On.

Even the title of the album had been ripped right from the pages of her book. 

Stone brown eyes following her finger, Sydnee’s eyes widened.

Inadvertently, Roxy held her breath, waiting for the usual reaction she’d get when offhandedly mentioning she worked for Big Time Rush to the new, young Palm Woods residents, but it never came. 

“No way! A three-piece band to a five-piece? You must finally have a bass player!”

More than once, Sydnee had made fun of her partner and friends back in Minnesota for their startling lack of a bassist. The jokes about them “almost being a real band” used to bother Roxy quite a bit, but these days, it certainly didn’t matter to her anymore.

Hands drawing around her waist, Roxy found herself looking down at the linoleum tile. “It’s just the four of them, actually. Having a girl around kind of defeats the entire purpose of a boy band. My role is more behind the scenes, writing, producing, assisting… But I’m part of the touring band!”

“Oh… A boy band? Wow…” Sydnee’s eyes flickered, dimples disappearing momentarily before she drew up another smile just as quickly. “That must be fun. I’m happy for you, Roxy.”

Just as the girl opened her mouth to thank her friend, she continued. 

“It’s just disappointing knowing I won’t see you, Mag, and Dani rocking out like I used to. Hard to believe you’d give up your own band for some assistant job.” 

A slap to the face might have been nicer than the insinuation that Roxy was a sell-out. The look on her face must have communicated her emotions, despite the daze swirling around her brain, as Sydnee’s brows shot up, hands flying out in front of her and waving wildly as she cried, “Sorry! I didn’t mean that in a bad way!”

I knew coming to this thing was a bad idea.

Sour taste entering her mouth, the assistant nearly gagged on her own spit as she tried to come up with something to say back - an excuse to end the conversation, some fake pleasantries, a question about the weather, anything - until Logan called her name from behind her. 

In an instant, the boys who had been busy creating their contracted advertisement swarmed around her; Carlos picking up the plate she’d left on the table and munching on one of the gigantic chocolate cookies she’d been stacking up before getting roped into the conversation with Sydnee.

Their first meeting had been at a party too, Roxy recalled, back during their freshman year. While Mag and Dani weren’t party people, the third of their trio was, and she’d been invited by one of the junior varsity cheerleaders in her English class to a kickback after the first football game of the season. Too afraid to go alone, she asked the other two to come as well. 

Mag had agreed to attend at Roxy’s promise it would be good to scope out which of the people at their high school might be interested in coming to one of their shows and Dani had agreed if they could bring their partner. So, introduced for the first time in the cheerleader’s crowded living room, the two girls danced the night away while the other two kept to themselves in the kitchen. 

While they certainly weren’t best friends, they were always friendly with each other, or so Roxy had thought, until Sydnee’s backhanded statement moments ago. 

“Hey!” Carlos greeted, sweet as ever, while some crumbs trailed down his front. Turning to his assistant, he questioned, “Who’s this?” 

Now outnumbered, Sydnee shot Roxy a sympathetic smile, sorry for how her words had come out. Regardless, Roxy brushed it off like usual, but the comment only added to her emotional pile-up. Tonight wasn’t about starting fights; Big Time Rush was collecting a check and getting out as quickly and painlessly as they could. 

“Boys, this is Sydnee Vélez, an old friend,” Pausing for emphasis on that last word, Roxy smiled so hard her cheeks began to ache. “She and Dani have been together, for, like, ever. Isn’t it sweet she flew all the way from Duluth to support them tonight?” 

One by one, they introduced themselves to the newcomer, more than happy to make a new acquaintance. 

From there, the boys were able to carry on the conversation as they moved to the seating area, and Roxy was able to zone out and take stock of the venue now that the party guests were starting to settle in. The line at the signing table had finally died down, Mag and Dani still sitting behind the black tablecloth as they talked about whatever, laughter carrying across the hall. Most of the fans were lingering around the roped-off dance floor in front of the stage, hoping to be as close to the barricade as possible for Brand New Day’s first performance post-album release. 

Gustavo and Kelly were socializing over at the tables set up by the refreshments, presumably networking with Galactic Record’s finest songwriters and producers though Roxy knew that they’d likely never speak again after this party ended… 

A pair of adult men who looked suspiciously like the Madden brothers walked in front of her, blocking her view of her bosses.

Ugh…

A bit beyond them, she noticed Mr. and Mrs. Huron, sitting together at one of the smaller tables, beaming with pride. Dani’s features looked almost exactly like their parents; Sharing the same long, straight brown hair, brilliant green eyes, and ochre complexion. The two of them were locked in conversation with Ms. McAllister, who wore a similar expression on her pale, sunken face. Unlike the Hurons, Mag and his mother were almost physical polar opposites, her wavy, straw-blonde hair didn’t come close to matching Dani’s midnight black curls, nor did his round cheeks compare to the hollowness of his mother’s. 

Between the two women, Mr. Huron was doing his best to translate their conversation into sign language for his wife and spoken word for Ms. McAllister.

Though none of the three adults had been thrilled at the band’s beginning, apparently it had finally paid off enough for them to show some support for their children’s careers. Roxy remembered long conversations with her friends, the two of them complaining about how their parents had forced them to aim for “realistic” aspirations, like Mag’s mother signing him up for an internship at the healthcare company she worked for, or how the Hurons had practically forbade Dani from playing shows toward the beginning of the band’s timeline. 

All things that, to the writer, seemed entirely ridiculous. Why allow your child to cultivate such an impressive musical skill and then try to clip their wings the moment they decide to pursue that instead of something conventional? 

That’s exactly what her grandparents had done to her father; There’s a reason he hadn’t spoken to either of them in seventeen years.

As much as Roxy couldn’t stand the two, no one could deny that Dani was an incredible, dedicated musician. There was hardly a time they were seen without drumsticks in their hands. They used to drive teachers crazy with their relentless tapping on desks while they lectured. 

Mag’s effortless skill on the guitar while wowing the crowd with his fine-tuned and captivating voice was no small feat either. Like the boys in Big Time Rush, he was a natural-born performer, craving the spotlight more than anything else in the world. 

The two of them were beyond talented; While they were all still friends it was hard to stand by and watch their parents try to convince them otherwise. 

Should I go say hi? The girl contemplated, turning to see her friends laughing at something Sydnee had said, before remembering the last time she’d seen the Hurons they’d busted the three of them for having a gig in their basement when they thought they’d be going away for the weekend. Ms. McAllister wasn’t her biggest fan either; Roxy had driven one too many needles into her son’s ears, lips, and nose to think she was a good influence on her “sweet boy.” 

Absentmindedly, her fingers rose to fiddle with her earrings, thinking of the piercings he’d given her in return. Then, she wondered if Mag or Dani had thought to send her father an invite to the party. 

Of all their parents, he’d been the one to foster their creative talent - Driving them to shows, helping them load and unload gear, and giving his input when necessary. Should there be anyone Brand New Day needed to thank for getting off the ground and breaking into the industry, it was Declan Somerset. 

Roxy blinked, figuring she should call her dad and tell him how much she loved him when this whole ordeal was over. 

“Psst,” Someone whispered from behind her, saving her from a stroll farther down memory lane. God forbid she start to remember the good times she’d had with her old friends. 

When she turned, Roxy found herself face to face with Carlos, still holding the plate he’d picked up from her earlier. Contagious grin reaching out to her, he shared, “One video of the live performance and a video with the band afterward and we’re out of here.”

“Oddly specific contract requirements but, that’s good.” The girl wasn’t able to say much beyond what she needed to. “Hopefully they’ll finish the…”

Line of sight reaching the signing table, the writer noticed the line had dissipated and Mag and Dani were nowhere to be seen. All of the fans were beginning to crowd around the stage now that they were allowed on the dance floor, pushing and shoving at one another to try and be on the barricade line and have the best view of Brand New Day’s performance of their first album.

Carlos followed her gaze. “Oh, yeah! Sydnee said they’re going to start up soon - Apparently, Dani is very good on the drums. She’s excited to see the energy they’ll bring tonight.”

“They’re one of the best…” Roxy swallowed the rest of her compliment.

“Why don’t you come and join us until then?” He suggested, pushing the plate in the direction of the rest of the band; Logan appeared to be in the middle of recounting a story, arms waving wildly as he spoke. In return, Sydnee gasped, covering her mouth with her palm. That was when James and Kendall jumped in, attempting to speak over each other to recount the next part of their tale. “When they’re done she said she’d tell us all about you before we met!”

Internally, the assistant cringed, wanting to cause any sort of distraction to keep that from happening. Maybe I’m strong enough to pull the tablecloth out from under the food…?

Instead, Roxy just shook her head at his comment, racking her brain for any kind of excuse to get her out of talking to Sydnee again. “I think I’m going to use the restroom actually… Look out for James for me, would you?” 

Taking a bite of one of the iced brownies, the boy in front of her nodded, “Sure thing, Rox. Holler if you need anything.”

Just as she went to turn away from him, she noticed James trying to get her attention from where he stood a few feet away. 

Hi! His wave indicated, before he tried to beckon her back over with the curling of few fingers.

No thanks! She willed back, taking a slow blink before pointing her thumb to the side, attempting to share, Be right back. 

Chin jutting out, she watched as his eyes flickered back to Sydnee, still showing interest in their conversation, before he placed his palm to his mouth and blew his girlfriend a kiss. See you soon.

Of course you will, I can’t stay away from you. Roxy thought, unsure of how to convey that beyond pretending to catch the imaginary kiss and place it on her cheek. 

Now flushed pink, she planted herself on the edge wall of the venue and followed it until she came upon a small hallway with the icon of a man and a woman hanging from a sign above the entry and decided that was good enough. 

As long as she could hang out away from the crowd for a little while, she figured she’d be able to coast through the rest of the night incident-free. No Sydnee, no Mag and Dani, no parents - Just her and her head, racing at approximately a thousand miles per minute. 

Maybe Logan was right, she silently concluded, finding herself in front of the washroom mirror. Dark bags were setting in under her eyes. A cooling splash of water from the sink to her face would’ve done wonders to calm her down, but it would come with the price of ruining the makeup she’d spent an hour trying to perfect. I don’t need to be here.

Too much time had been spent worrying about others in the hours leading up to this party; Just the thought of the boys and Brand New Day interacting tonight was able to launch her into a tailspin. In all that time, she hadn’t even thought to step back and judge how her attendance would take a toll on her as well. 

But the night’s almost over, she reminded herself, and on the way home, you can convince James to call out of work tomorrow and go on an adventure.

Yeah. That sounded nice. Deserved.

And that was enough to calm her pounding heart, watching her chest start to rise and fall normally under the burnt sienna of her halter top in the reflection. 

You will get through this. You always do.

Roxy ran a few fingers through her hair, smoothing it down at the part before taking both her hands and poofing it up, running her nails lightly back and forth across her scalp - Shaking out the negative thoughts and feelings stirring around up there. 

Now, her goal as she made her way out of the restroom and back over to her friends was to avoid anything else that might ruin her newfound good mood, as she pulled out her phone and googled “Most romantic things to do in Los Angeles” to pitch some ideas to James.

If she’d waited even a second longer before burying her nose and weaving through the mass of people in front of her, she would’ve caught sight of the untapped cable that had been laid to the stage directly in the middle of her path back to her friends. 

Without warning, the toe of her ankle boots slipped under the thick wire and as she mindlessly scrolled the webpage she found it caught. Cable growing taught, it completely restricted her movement.

Stomach lurching as she began to hurtle forward, Roxy let out an involuntary yelp, one hand clutching her phone while the other flailed helplessly as she went down, down, down… Right into the chest of the person standing on the path in front of her. 

Calloused fingers dug into her upper arm to steady her while her cheek landed on the leather lapel of a jacket adorned with dozens of buttons and pins. 

PROUDLY SERVING MY CORPORATE MASTERS read the white text on a blue background, encased in a small circular button right in her line of sight and Roxy let out a string of curses, scrambling to pick herself up and shove the person off her as quickly as possible. 

When she’d found that button at a thrift store in Duluth, she’d thought it a funny gift, but now, pinned to Mag’s jacket at his first album release party under one of America’s largest record labels, she felt as though the satirical element might have been lost on him. 

“Wow, now that’s one way to say ‘thank you,’” The boy joked, cracking an award-winning smile down at his former bandmate. “But I’m glad we ran into each other, actually-”

“I was just leaving,” Roxy cut him off, pointing vaguely at the space behind him. Eyes trailing to the side of him, she couldn’t even bear to look up at the singer as they spoke. “My friends are back there, somewhere.”

The sooner this conversation was over, the better.

Shaking out his fingers before crossing his arms, Mag let out a small hum barely discernable over the chatter of the crowd surrounding them. “Glad they got our invitation too! Of course, it wasn’t quite like yours… But it’s nice to see all of you showing up to support us. Did you get a chance to pick up a copy of the album yet?” 

“No sense in wasting twenty bucks on a CD I won’t use.” Channeling her best inner Dani impression, she let out what she hoped came off as an unbothered scoff.

As the girl took a step forward, trying to signal the end of the conversation, Mag took a step back. “Just hang on a second! I’ve got one here…” His hands fell from his chest and patted down his pockets with a few soft thuds. “Somewhere…”

Out of his inner jacket pocket, he produced the jewel case containing Barely Hanging On and extended it out to her. The cover featured a photoshopped image of the two of them, cartoonish expressions of horror on their faces as they pretended to hold onto the top of the H in the Hollywood sign. 

As he requested, Roxy reluctantly took the CD, hoping he couldn’t see the way her hands had worked up a slight tremor. Assuming that was all, she once more tried to continue on her way. 

“Hang on! Check the booklet, Rox. I left a little surprise for you in there.” 

The use of her nickname sent a sheen of sweat unpleasantly rolling down her back; He’d lost the right to call her that long ago and no matter how many times she kept reminding him, he just couldn’t seem to remember. That in combination with whatever he thought to point out as surprise-worthy and the girl was beginning to grow queasy as well. “I’ll find out later. Excuse me.”

 On her third attempt to maneuver around the boy in front of her, she made the mistake of glancing his way and finding the unyielding attention of his bright blue eyes, vast and endless. The kind of fixating gaze someone would love to get lost in.  

I can’t believe that used to work on me, she chastised her past self, cringing at how she’d misinterpreted their friendship and built it up to be far more inside her head. A year and a half ago, she’d be clamoring for any crumb of attention he could give her, and now it was as easy blowing him off as it was to breathe. Life’s funny like that…

“Please?” Mag inquired, a few of his black curls sweeping over his eyes as he tapped on the case with a black painted nail. “Think of it as a peace offering if nothing else.”

“A peace offering?” 

Immediately, not knowing what took control of her hands, Roxy popped the case open and slid out the insert, the picture of Mag and Dani staring back at her as she tucked the plastic under her arm and flipped through the small book. Going along with the theme of the cover image, the pages containing the lyrics, acknowledgments, and legal elements were stylized to look like a map of the Hollywood Hills. Mixed in along the way were photos, some she recognized from their early days as a band and others that appeared to have been taken throughout their journey in L.A. 

Nothing in particular stood out to her, so she kept her place using her thumb and used the paper to smack Mag on the shoulder. “Dude, whatever-”

That felt more casual than she’d liked, but she didn’t spend too much time dwelling on the action before he spoke again. “The credits?”

Roxy blinked up at him, mind going blank. 

Opening the booklet again, she could hardly get her vision to focus as she followed the line of text down the first page for the opening song, from the title to the lyrics to the compositional credits. It was there, in shiny black bold letters.

Lyrics and guitar composed by Roxanne Somerset.

Line of sight jumping over to the next page for the second song, there it was again, and on the third, the fourth, all the way through the complete tracklist. 

It must have been nearly impossible for her to contain the shock on her face, and judging by the cheery laugh escaping Mag’s lips, he found the way she tore through the book to look at every song to find her name underneath entirely amusing. 

“I just wanted to apologize,” He shared, “What happened the day you left the band was entirely my fault… You’d still be here with us if I hadn’t been such a complete ass. So, this is a thank you, an apology, and hopefully, a way to start making up as well - Our manager said she’d talk with your boss tonight and make sure all the writing copyright and royalties and whatever else goes to you.”

“Mag, I…” Roxy was at a complete loss. Ever since Brand New Day had unexpectedly moved to the Palm Woods she’d been worried about the two of them passing off her work as their own, skyrocketing to the top of the pop rock charts without so much as a thought about how it might have affected her. “You still took my songs. I wasn’t there for recording or mixing or-”

“I know. We fucked up, Rox, big time, but you know how badly we needed out of Duluth.” He looked up to the ceiling, taking a deep breath. “All three of us were bigger than that stupid, stifling town.”

Taking the case from where she tucked it under her arm, Roxy popped it back open and slid the insert back inside. “That doesn’t make it okay. Not in the slightest.”

When her voice broke on the last word, Mag’s head snapped back down, brow softening as he pulled one of his lip rings between his teeth. “Every song was done by the notes in your book - I swear. Just give the album a listen before you judge.”

“I don’t own a CD player,” She fought back. Sweaty fists balling up into her skirt, the writer breathed, “Anything worth listening to can be recorded onto a tape.”

At her words, Mag smiled, reaching back into the pocket of his jacket. A few of the pins could be heard clanking together. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten too much about you, Roxy. I know mixtapes are one of your favorite forms of communication and this is likely the most important one I’ve ever made.”

A black and white tape was pressed into her hands and Mag finally moved out of her way. Black and red flannel wrapped around his waist swaying with each step, he paused when they were shoulder to shoulder, dropping his mouth to her ear and murmuring, “Accept my apology or don’t. I just want my friend back.”

Roxy twirled the cassette in her hands. “Start with telling everyone here you didn’t write these songs and I’ll think about thinking about it.”

***

In the twenty minutes between meeting up with her friends and the house lights going down to signal Brand New Day’s show was about to start, Roxy had fumbled her way through conversations, not registering much of what was going on around her.

The day had already been too much. Fighting with Gustavo and Griffin, not to mention the disaster of a limo ride where the producer had all but yelled at her for voicing this party was a bad idea, and now, she had Mag’s so-called apology to consider. The cassette he’d given her was burning a hole in her mini backpack, one she could feel on the small of her back as she and the boys made their way over to the V.I.P. viewing area. 

To top it all off, she couldn’t even find comfort in her boyfriend until the party was over, despite walking right next to him, in case any of the news outlets attending the party caught sight of the two of them. With everything going on right now, that was only an added stress flowing through Roxy’s head. 

Slowly, as she, the band, and their bosses took their place at the set of circular standing tables beside the stage, she could practically feel the hemispheres of her brain pull apart from each other, resulting in one of the most splitting headaches she’d ever had. It was only added to once the Hurons and Ms. McAllister arrived at the tables in front of them. 

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Kendall whispered behind her, effectively pulling her out of the heavy daze she’d found herself swimming in. “Logan, you disrupt the fog machine and set it to produce as much fog as possible; If no one can see the band, they can’t play. Carlos, the stairs to the mezzanine are to the left, make sure the spotlights are out, okay? James, the audio control booth is being set up in the middle of the room. I took a peek earlier and it’s exactly like Gustavo’s - If you can mess with the microphone sound, I’ll take care of the instrument sound. And Rox…” The boy pushed a bottle of Peppy Cola her way, glass screeching unpleasantly across the table. “You just sit here and enjoy Brand New Day’s downfall. Everyone got it?” 

With three of the boys letting out an emphatic, “Yes!” it was quite hard to hear Roxy whisper, “No.”

From her right side, Carlos bumped elbows with her. “If you don’t want to stand around, you can come with me to the mezzanine! There’s probably a bunch of lights we can mess with.”

Enthused giggle leaving his lips, he linked his arm through hers and made a move in the direction Kendall had pointed out earlier. Though it jostled her a bit due to his hockey player strength, Roxy managed to hold her ground, feeling both of her hands fly up to the black tabletop, nails attempting to dig into the solid surface. 

When Carlos’ brow furrowed, he stopped trying to pull her along but kept their arms linked together. “Maybe you’d feel more comfortable at the audio booth?”

Roxy’s mouth opened to respond, but no sound came out. 

“I could use a hand with the fog machine, if I’m being honest,” Logan tried, tossing a weak smile in his assistant’s direction. Both of them knew he didn’t, he was just doing his best to include her in their plan to sabotage Brand New Day’s show. “If one of us follows the chord to whatever power source it’s hooked up to, we could manage to increase the electrical current flowing to the-”

“Guys, just stop for a second.” The cautious words from James caused the girl to increase her grip on the table as he cut Logan off. It was almost as if he were upset about something, though she wasn’t sure if he had some reason to be. 

Did something happen while I was away?

“Roxy? You don’t want us to do anything, do you?” He asked, plain as day. For a boy who was often quite lacking in situational awareness, he’d zoomed into her problem far quicker than any of their friends. 

Had they not been in a crowded room, she’d reach up, knot her fingers in his t-shirt, and pull him down into an earth-shattering kiss. 

When she shook her head, she was finally able to release her fingers from the table, though they soon resumed keeping busy as she began to pick at her cuticles. Now that they’d gotten to the root of the problem, she wasn’t sure she wanted to explain to them why she felt that way. 

Should she clue them into her conversation with Mag? It wasn’t any of their business, but they were her best friends. Maybe they’d understand where she was coming from, why she wanted to believe he was truly apologetic for his actions. But on the other hand, what if they didn’t comprehend why she was considering what they’d talked about? Any criticism hurtling her way would probably break her, let alone statements about her ability to judge character. 

There had been a reason she’d been pulled into Mag and Dani’s world their freshman year. The two of them had been good friends. Her best friends.  They’d given her a space to express her feelings judgment-free and had taken a chance on the least punk-presenting person in all of Duluth to help give rise to the band they’d built together. 

She didn’t want to forget the long nights they’d spent together, handing out fliers outside of record stores, hanging out in the radio station during her overnight shifts, or the shows they’d handcrafted, piecing the setlists together as though their lives depended on it. Even outside of their band, they’d been the first two to explore their hometown with her, they’d gotten through Mag’s father's passing together, and survived the horrors of American public schooling by each other's sides. 

Those were the people she remembered them to be; Those were the people she still wanted them to be. Was it so wrong to want her friends back too?

The pit in her stomach certainly told her it was.

Even if she wasn’t entirely sure she was still willing to forgive them for what they’d done, if Mag truly meant what he had said earlier, this might be the performance he makes it right, and Roxy wasn’t interested in sabotaging that in any way… Selfish as that might be. 

“No,” she confirmed, daring to pull her nails from the bloody mess she’d eventually make if she kept pulling at her skin and reaching down to her side to lock pinkies with her boyfriend. Though that wasn’t the physical comfort she sought at the moment, it would have to do for now. “If something goes wrong and it’s traced back to the four of you, Gustavo’d throw a fit. He’s already on edge…”

Looking around the table, she took note of nodding heads, until Kendall slammed one hand down on the table, causing her to flinch at the sound, practically shouting, “Rox, who gives a fuck? These two completely screwed you over!”

Kendall yelling at her? That was certainly a new experience - One she didn’t take well to at all. 

“Still! That’s my music they’re about to play up there!” She roared back, feeling the line that had been tightening all night finally snap, goosebumps prickling down her arms at the tone he’d taken with her. “That’s serious shit, Kendall! That’s personal. My heart is up there on that stage with every word, every strum of a guitar chord… Credited to my name or not, if the four of you hatch some stupid, wacky plan and ruin that, you’d be screwing me over, too!”

“Don’t you understand? People like Mag and Dani need to be taught a lesson! Or they’ll just keep getting what they want over, and over! Those two did some damage, Roxy, we see it whenever you try to keep an unfinished song from us or carry your problems alone-”

Chest constricting, Roxy didn’t bother to quell her words. Whatever was getting Kendall so worked up, letting him think it was fine to raise his voice at her affected her tenfold. “There’s nothing of mine left for them to take! It seems you’ve forgotten that’s your job now!”

Silence. 

James let his hand fall from hers. 

By the way her friends gaped at her declaration, she had been right to hold back the contents of her conversation with Mag. 

Finally, she found where they differ; Big Time Rush wanted revenge for what had been done to their assistant. Roxy wanted, needed, recompense. 

Carlos glanced somewhere behind Roxy before his line of sight made it down to the black tablecloth. “You think our plans are stupid?”

“Is… writing for us not fun anymore?” Across the table, Logan’s question further twisted Carlos’ knife.

And all at once, the conversation that was meant to bring the five of them together that night left the writer feeling fully isolated. Her heart throbbed, unpleasantly mixing in with the beginnings of a bass drum beat blaring through the stage speakers, blood pouring into her ears as the pangs of anger prickled her brow. Beginnings of anything she could possibly say next were swallowed up by the crowd’s ovation as the lights went up and Brand New Day took the stage - That was probably a good thing, too, because if Kendall wanted a yelling match, Roxy was just bothered enough to give him one. 

Of all the things she had to be right about that night, her statement about her heart being on stage rattled around her head as she recognized the opening riff to the first song, “Into the Night.” Based on the night of Brand New Day’s first show, an evening blazed into Roxy’s memory from the pure emotional overload, Mag began to sing the lyrics. His unrefined, raw, voice stood out from music perfectly, sounding like the punk singers he’d spent so much time learning vocals from on old CD tracks in his bedroom.

Goddamn it, the girl thought, taking everything in, it does sound just like I imagined it would.

As the song went on, she tried to reach out to James, only to find his arms crossed against his chest, watching Mag very intently as he jumped around the stage while he played. When she attempted to place a hand on his arm, he shrugged her off, not even bothering to look over in her direction. 

“Babe,” She called, almost directly into his ear, but the sound coming from the speakers was far too loud, drowning out any possibility of her soft tone reaching his ears. 

That, or more likely, he was pretending like he couldn’t hear anything but the music.

***

“Heartswell Summer” was the last song and lead single off Barely Hanging On. 

A song Roxy had written after Mag had gotten his driver’s license, when the two of them had taken his mom’s car keys and joyrode around Duluth the summer of their sophomore year. Taking on surface streets and highways together, daring to head down little one-way mountain roads, and overall, just enjoying the company of a friend.

Something had been… freeing about the entire interaction; The idea that someone she knew besides her father was able to drive her places was a major plus, but also, the ability to potentially play shows outside of their hometown. That excited the two of them more than anything. 

Originally, Dani was set to come with them on their drive to nowhere, wasting as much gas as they could before they would inevitably have to come back home and beg Ms. McAllister to refill the tank - none of them had ever pumped gas before - but they had to pass. Sydnee’s family’s upholstery store needed someone to cover the register while her sister had her tonsils out and they were more than happy to step up to the plate. 

Looking back, had Dani been there, Roxy wasn’t sure she’d have been able to come up with the song in the first place. There’s no way they’d let them listen to Mag’s Saves The Day CD or park the car at the cliffs of the North Shore, staring out the front windshield and admiring the beauty of the lake scene in front of them. 

The two of them weren’t talking about anything important, in fact, as she tried to search the recesses of her memory to try and take a guess as to what it was, she couldn’t even come up with anything. At one point, he’d turned to her as they spoke and his unwavering attention caused her mouth to go dry. 

Then, her heartbeat a little faster. Palms grew sweaty as she held tightly to the soda cup they’d gotten at the Bun In A Million drive-thru. When she laughed at whatever jokes he made, there was a little something extra behind it. 

Sure, she’d been on a date before, kissed a guy even, but none of the new feelings she’d encountered that day even came close to what she was experiencing in the passenger seat of Mag’s car. 

On the way home, they’d sung along to his CD until their voices were gone and the minute she got home, she locked herself in her bedroom and wrote “Heartswell Summer.”

A few months later, that song had been the catalyst for her humiliating departure from Brand New Day. 

Now, hearing the final chorus escape Mag’s lips, Dani, sweaty, but still expertly pounding away at their drum kit to round the song out, Roxy decided for the first time in ages, she was glad to have written it, even in the wake of the pain it had caused her. Without it, she’d have never considered signing up for Gustavo’s talent auditions, never leading her to meet Big Time Rush, never have allowed her to travel the United States playing her songs for crowds of thousands and thousands. 

The applause the duo had garnered was well deserved, no denying those two put on an excellent show. It was also evident Brand New Day had no place for her any longer, even if a small part of her had thought that there was the slightest possibility, and admittedly, that realization didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. 

Roxy’s place was with Big Time Rush - A fact she’d overlooked tonight for the sake of the past and people she used to love. But that didn’t change the fact she wanted to get in Kendall’s face and scream, show him how upset his tone had made her, how he made it sound like she wasn’t able to solve her problems on her own.

Control freak… 

It had been a good while since she’d been this agitated, there was a reason she’d been drawn the punk music after all, feeling the need to get it out all at one person. She hadn’t allowed herself to yell at Dak after their break up or at Camille when she’d kissed James, because she thought herself better than that. Now, she was pretty sure if that blond boy got anywhere in her vicinity she’d explode.

The worst part? Though anger like this was healthy every once and a while, Roxy was usually able to channel it into something good, like a song, but her mind was just drawing blank after blank. A kid with a white crayon scribbling and wondering why nothing was showing up on the page. 

With no outlet like that, she knew she’d better keep her mouth shut before their fight evolved into something bigger than it already was. At some point, she’d have to apologize, especially for dragging the other three into it unprompted, but that was the farthest thing from her mind right now as Mag and Dani took their bows, stepping up to the microphone to say their thank you’s to the crowd. 

With the sound of clapping slowly starting to dissipate, Mag strummed a few chords on the baby blue guitar over his shoulder - The one that had inspired Roxy to write the track “Baby Blue” - before stepping up, joking, “That’s enough of that! Stop it!” before placing his hands over his heart. 

“Plenty of people in our lives deserve the applause far more than we do,” Dani followed, pulling out a sheet of paper from their back pocket. Sound of crinkling paper coming through the mic, they spoke in their usual nonchalant manner. “Even though you get to see the two of us up here, Brand New Day is far more than Mag and I.”

“First off, we’d like to thank our parents… Not very punk, we know, but we really wouldn’t be here without their constant and unwavering support!” 

Dani waved his hand up and down, prompting the crowd to cheer louder and louder, as one of the spotlights found its way to the table where the Hurons and Ms. McAllister were sat. An odd first choice to the girl, considering she could remember plenty of times they hadn’t been supportive. Considering she hadn’t been around them for a little over a year, what did she know about their current parental relationships?

Another lazy riff and Mag let it ring through the speakers before taking the mic again, “And of course, none of this would be possible if the lovely and talented producer, Chelsea Northrop, hadn’t taken a chance on our little band…”

The light found a middle-aged woman in the crowd, bright red hair contrasting greatly with the black of her power suit, and she politely waved. No trace of a smile on her face despite the band receiving so much positive feedback from fans in real-time. 

Running their hand down the written list in their hands, Dani smiled before crumpling up the paper and throwing it behind their back. They leaned into Mag’s grip on the mic. “One more person…” 

Roxy’s heart skipped. 

“...Well, more like a group of people: The fans! Thank you all so much for always showing up for us, buying our music, hyping us up online… The growth of Brand New Day can’t be attributed to anyone else. We can’t wait to keep making music you all love!” With a flip of their long hair over their shoulder, the house lights illuminated the crowd, and it appeared as though Dani was reaching down to the front of the stage to pull one of the setlists off and hand it to someone in the front when Mag drew his pick up and down the strings again.

With a few clicks of his tongue and a wry smile, the black-haired boy waggled his finger toward the audience. “Speaking of fans… Were any of you lucky enough to see us when we were a shitty little cover band back in our hometown?” 

One person in the audience cheered, “Hell yeah!” with an emphatic fist pump, inspiring Roxy to let out a “Whoo!” of her own from the sidelines, clapping her hands together as loud as she could just so the big room wasn’t so quiet. 

“Well then, you might have noticed we downsized from a trio to a duo - Fear not, our best friend Roxanne Somerset is still with us behind the scenes. Not only did she write every song we played up here tonight, and the entire album if I’m being honest. She also helped arrange all of the covers we played back home. Dani and I don’t think her nearly enough, so Rox, if you’re out there, what do you say to playing one more song with us?”

Dani froze, looking at the singer with wide eyes. 

Recompense. Just like she’d wanted. Only now she was learning she’d bit off far more than she was willing to chew when the same annoying spotlight Carlos had promised to bust found her on the sidelines, nearly blinding her. It took all she had not to bring her hands up to her face to block the light, and the crowd’s chant of, “One more song! One more song!” didn’t leave her much choice. 

Caught in a catch-22, Roxy didn’t have much time to mull over her decision. Play the song or don’t. Piss off Big Time Rush or piss off Brand New Day.

Accept my apology or don’t.

 Turning the offer down would just be downright embarrassing, especially in front of so many people, and when her eyes finally adjusted to the light, she could see her friends in the V.I.P. section staring straight back at her, trying to determine her choice. 

When Kendall slowly shook his head in her direction, Roxy just about lost it. 

She ran up to the stage, making sure to go out of her way to pass by the table the boys were standing at, because what did they know about her time in Brand New Day? How dare Kendall act as if he were the end-all, be-all of her life’s decisions? Playing in her own band, getting to own the whole stage, and interacting with the other two, was far more a rewarding feeling than being boxed in stage right at a Big Time Rush show. Not that Kendall would understand. He’d never even know the difference. 

Who cared if she played one more song with them? It was a good send-off, especially after Mag had admitted to a room full of people neither he nor Dani had written their own music - The first step in what she was now happy to consider a healing friendship. The boys would just have to get over it eventually. 

When she approached the band, Roxy didn’t think twice before throwing her arms around each of their shoulders, pulling them down into the huddle position they’d always do to debrief before their shows. Paying no mind to the crowd in front of them, Roxy took her time savoring the moment. 

“Thank you, both of you, for admitting that. Being so honest with everyone was pretty… Unexpected, but appreciated” She beamed, hair falling into her face, wrestling them a bit tighter. “And congratulations on the album.”

Mag was the first to fire back, “Thank you, Roxy. Seriously, I mean-”

“What song are we playing?” Dani cut him off, rolling their drumsticks between their palms. Small, lined intents covered the thick wood from top to bottom, a testament to how hard Dani went on their kit during the performance. “‘The Anthem?’”

“Oh, God, no. Not while the Maddens are here.” Cheek scrunching in disgust, Roxy couldn’t stand the thought of playing a Good Charlotte song while two of its founding members were somewhere in the audience. “The Replacements, maybe? ‘Bastards of Young?’”

“That song is ancient,” Mag laughed, light and airy, “I was thinking something more suited to Roxy’s taste… Not exactly punk, but how about ‘Bring It On Down?’”

The gasp that escaped Roxy’s lips might have been heard by the entire crowd, “You’re serious? I had to beg both of you to learn that one…”

“Sure. That one. Whatever.” Dani grunted, gently moving out of the writer’s grasp and jerking a thumb in her direction. “Just one problem, she can’t play any of the guitars here.”

“Think again, Dani!” 

Now that the huddle was broken, Mag slid a few steps side stage and pulled out his first electric guitar; The black, sleek instrument Roxy would always have to borrow for their more important shows instead of playing her shitty acoustic/electric.

Roxy childishly snatched it out of his hands, pulling the neck into her chest and rocking side to side, “I can’t believe you kept it strung like this!” 

In a flash the black strap was around her shoulder, adjusted as though he hadn’t played it once since she last touched it, and she reached out to his mic stand to take a pick. 

“I had hope we might play together someday… Call me sentimental…” He took a step closer to her and reached out a hand. Without thinking, she leaned back, eyes widening.

“Hey-”

If they noticed this interaction at all, they didn’t let it show. Dani struck their drumsticks together to signal the beginning of the song. If Roxy had any hope of getting through the song without messing up, she’d have to pay incredibly close attention to the time Dani was keeping on the drums.

Once more, Mag held out his hand, palm facing her this time in some sort of peace gesture before he went for her shoulder, adjusting the strap so it was smooth on her skin instead of the twisted mess she’d made of it when she slung it on the first time. 

Roxy had to look down at the instrument below her, not because she needed to see the strings to play, but to ignore the way his eyes shone under the bright stage lights. 

That, coupled with the fact “Bring It On Down” was one of her favorite Oasis songs had her thinking for just a split second that maybe it was a bad idea she’d chosen to join them… But when it came her time to strike the lead chord, hear it resonate out to the crowd as everyone began to move to the beat, that thought quickly left her mind. 

With a glance to the table with her friends, she tried to send a silent message to James that she wished it was him up there with her, but he was too busy speaking with Kendall, Logan, and Carlos - quite furiously by the quickness of his hand gestures -  to notice any of the fun she was having. 

***

Just as she left the stage after a final bow, placing Mag’s guitar back into its case on the side, she turned to look for Brand New Day, only to find the red-haired woman from earlier, standing right behind her. 

“Hey, Ms. Northrop, right?” She greeted, attempting to mask the small gasp of surprise that left her lips. Blood still pumping from the adrenaline rush of performing, the girl wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. “They should put a bell on you… or something. Uh... Thanks for letting me play with those two again-” Stepping forward, Chelsea’s heeled boot smacked the wood of the stage as she extended a hand, and Roxy flinched, making it hard for her to return the woman’s handshake. 

“I’m going to cut to the chase.” Chelsea cut her off, very effective in doing exactly what she had said. “Do you like it at Rocque Records?”

Roxy wasn’t sure if the continued hammering in her chest was due to the performance anymore. “I do-”

“Gustavo Rocque is an unpleasant man,” the woman spoke over the rest of what Roxy was trying to say. 

If she’s trying to sell herself as more pleasant… It’s not looking that way…

“He has his moments, sure-”

“I have a contract here offering you your same assistant songwriter position under me and all four of the bands I manage.” From her large black purse hanging at her side, Chelsea opened a professional-looking ledger and produced just that; A thick, bound leather folder was thrust into the assistant’s hands before she had the chance to protest.

Immediately, Roxy pushed it back toward her as though the object was cursed, “Look, you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not-”

“Open to the second page. Section 12-B. Line four.”

“No. I’m not going to do that, Chelsea. How about you let me finish what I’m saying?” The fury she’d felt toward Kendall earlier was starting to bubble up again, and though she had done her best to be cordial with this woman, getting spoken over was just degrading. “I’m not looking to switch jobs and I’m not looking to work with Brand New Day again, that performance was just for fun, okay? There’s nothing in the world that could make me-”

“Roxanne, I’m willing to offer you three times your current salary to come work for me at Galactic Records.” 

The next words that came out of Roxy’s mouth were a garbled mess of sounds dying halfway from her throat to her tongue. “Wha?”

“You’ve got forty-eight hours to let me know your decision. Please make the right one.”

Only at the sound of her heels smacking on the wood did the writer realize Chelsea was walking away. Click, click, click…

All the writer could do was stand there, dumbstruck at the offer, running the producer's words over and over in her head as she tried to make sense of all that had just occurred. The leather folder in her hands had held the key that would unlock the door to more industry opportunity, which, honestly, didn’t matter to Roxy in the slightest, but to walk away from triple the salary she made at Rocque Records…

From the boost in royalties this new album under her name would provide, she had figured, at least, she might be able to pay for her father to come visit, but with three times her current salary?

Screw Dad coming to visit… Dad could move here. We could live together again and see all the things we talked about seeing if we could afford it…

From somewhere in the crowd, Roxy heard Mag’s laugh ring out, clear and true.

Was this all a ploy to get my writing back in Brand New Day?

Even without confirmation, the thought of getting played by Mag McAllister again had Roxy’s eyes watering faster than the end of Titanic. Half-way a call for help, half-way a prayer, she shakily whispered her boyfriend’s name, “James… I need to find James…” before a few lyrics wedged their way into her brain.

The only issue? Her songbook and pen were in her backpack at the table and there was no way she was letting the other three see her like this right now. Frantically, her eyes scanned the side stage area, hoping for a pen, paper, anything that could help her get the lyrics down on paper before she forgot them, but her search yielded no results. 

Without thinking, she practically tore her phone out of her back pocket and opened her texting app to the first conversation, typing out. 

R: I walk offstage because this whole play is more than I can take 

Once that was out of mind, Roxy heard another line begin to play, but it was too loud to decipher over the chatter from the venue’s patrons. She needed to get out of there, now, somewhere quiet where she could get the lyric out before losing it. 

Good thing the ramp leading to the stage let out close to a hallway marked with a glowing red exit sign. 

R: I was one foot out the door, I couldn’t play that part no more

This new lyric finally erupted as the cool air of the Los Angeles night set in, lining the girl’s skin, a new tremor racking through her already shaking hands as her fingers typed out one last line.

R: The chemistry just wasn't there, I couldn't act like I didn't care, when I do, I do

How annoying. Roxy threw her head back, greedily gulping down the smoggy breeze in the alley outside of the venue. Still writing stupid songs about him to this day-

“Don’t tell me you came out here to complain about Mag. That’s your ‘I-Want-To-Complain-About-Mag’ face.”

“Jesus, Dani!” For the second time in as many minutes, Roxy jumped at an unexpected presence, this time coming from the stairs to the venue’s second floor, where Dani sat about halfway up, a lit cigarette between their pointer and middle fingers. “I’m going to put a fucking bell on you too, I swear to God…”

“O-kay,” Dragged out the drummer, making sure to pull the cigarette for a few beats too long before blowing the smoke out in Roxy’s direction. “Whatever that means…”

But, they scooted over, patting the rotting iron step beside them.

Bundling into her bare arms as they crossed over her chest, Roxy gave a grateful nod and descended a few steps to reach them. The last time they’d sat outside and spoken like this had to have been her last winter in Minnesota, right before the band broke up. Roxy couldn’t remember if it had been on her back porch or Dani’s, but either way, the gorgeous Duluth sky had left them ample opportunity to stargaze and talk about whatever came to mind. 

When she finally sat, the smoke’s earthy scent enveloped her nostrils, curling down into her mouth and making her crave the taste on her tongue. 

Maybe Dani noticed, or maybe they were just being polite, but they held the cigarette in her direction. 

Roxy just shook her head, “Not tonight, thanks… It’d ruin my ability to complain about Mag, don’t you think?”

The snort coming out of Dani’s nose had a little bit of smoke behind it. 

“For the record, I’m pissed at him too. I had no idea those songs were yours, Rox, not until I held the final copy of our record in my hands. There’s no way I’d agree to play them if I’d known.” For a brief moment, they flicked the ash down onto the ground below. Dani Huron was many things; a great drummer, a grassroots activist, a Good Charlotte fan. The one thing Dani Huron was not, was a liar. “Hmm… Doesn’t seem to affect my complaining at all...”

After the most emotionally tumultuous hour of her life, Roxy let out a small sigh, daring to lay her head down onto the soft t-shirt sleeve covering Dani’s shoulder, just like she would when they were smoking back home. 

Earlier in the day she’d never have dreamed of speaking to Dani like this ever again, but now, she just needed someone to talk to and it seemed as though they were more than willing to listen. Though it was a nasty habit, smoking always helped calm them down, cracking through their hard shell and allowing them to open up far more than in casual conversation.

“Dani, I am so sorry for thinking you had a part in that all this time,” Even the sigh at the drummer’s quip wasn’t enough to help swallow the crack in her voice. Of course, Roxy wanted to say it was okay, but at this point, her mind was so twisted, she had no idea who to believe. “Mag apologized for taking them earlier, actually, and I asked him to tell everyone it was my music. Then he did. So, I thought it would be cool to play with you again… For the sake of… A new friendship, maybe? But then that witch Chelsea offered me a job at Galactic the moment I got off stage. Three times my current salary. And now I have no clue what to make of everything… Am I crazy to feel like he’s just playing me again?”

“What makes you think I’d tell you if I knew?”

“Best friend code?”

“That’d normally work if we’d spoken any time in the last… twelve months, I think. Or you’d left Duluth with a goodbye.” They turned their face to the side, casting a glance over the alleyway below. “I called you, like, a million times when Project Pop canceled your show ‘for the foreseeable future’ because you’d ‘moved to the land of the stars.’”.

Screwing her eyes shut, Roxy dug the heels of her palms into her eyelids. “Again… Thought you were in on the whole song-stealing thing…”

Taking another drag, Dani let out a silent bout of laughter, shoulders shaking and sending their friend’s head bobbing up and down. Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm began to go off, interrupting the surprising silence of the big city at night. 

“Seriously, though, I want this band built off of talent, not lies. If Mag has anything cooked up, I swear on Bear he didn’t say a word to me.”

Visions of Dani’s enormous goldendoodle ran through Roxy’s mind. “Thanks, Dee… Out of everything that’s happened tonight you wouldn’t believe how refreshing this normal conversation is..”

“Oh?” More smoke curled out of their mouth as they breathed out the word, scratching at the black, metal ring stuck in their nose. “You’re always in the middle of the weirdest drama - and I mean that affectionately.”

“That trait 100% followed me to Los Angeles… You should meet the guys I work for,” The writer huffed as the corners of her mouth turned up, “I royally fucked things up with them earlier, too… Ugh, that apology is going to be so humiliating-”

The door the the venue slammed open below them. “Roxanne?” 

James said her name with a sense of urgency, one she’d never heard out of him before. 

“And that’s my cue… Catch you later,” Dani whispered, bumping shoulders with their friend before sliding down the stairs and back into the venue.

“Up here, babe!” His assistant called, shooting to her feet almost as quickly as Dani had, and taking a few steps to the ground. As James turned to the sound of her voice, she couldn’t help but throw herself into him, arms scrunching around his torso, “I’m so sorry about earlier, what I said was…”

When she pressed her ear to his chest, she could hear the rapid beating of his heart. Then, his arms were on her shoulders, physically putting her at an arm's length away. A cursory glance up and down his tall frame immediately told her something was wrong. Not only was his perfectly set hair uncharacteristically disheveled, but his stunning hazel eyes were puffed red under the halogen lamp hanging above the door, foot anxiously tapping on the ground as he pulled one hand off of her and reached into his front pocket.

Phone screen flicking on, almost as bright as that spotlight earlier, his fingers dug into her shoulder as he held it up to her, “What the hell is this?” 

Three white text bubbles filled her vision; The song lyrics she’d been unable to write down earlier had been sent in rapid succession. No wonder he looked so panicked… Receiving those three lines in a row would certainly freak anyone out. 

Intestines twisted, and the girl shook her head. Why hadn’t I thought of that before I hit the send button?

Her hand shot up to meet his, curling around the fingers that held his phone and lowering the device out of her face. If he could feel the claminess setting into her palms, he didn’t mention it.

As difficult as looking him in his bloodshot eyes was, Roxy assured him, “Lyrics! Song lyrics, James, nothing else. My journal was too far-”

“Lyrics? To a breakup song?” Though a chuckle left his lips, it was anything but gleeful. “Something inspired you to write that tonight?”

“It’s a bit early to call it a breakup song… It’s just three lines. They came to me when I hopped off stage, that’s all.”

 Sucking in a breath, James shook her hand off of his. The boy in front of her was physically shaking and it certainly wasn’t due to the low temperature outside. “Playing with Mag caused you to write this?”

Of course, that’s what she had said, opposite from what she’d meant. 

“The words are about him, baby, not you!” Reaching out for him again, she tried to place her palm on his cheek, but he recoiled from her touch, shying away from her like a vampire in the sunlight. For a second, Roxy had to swallow down some bile rising in her throat. “I think we need to go home and talk, okay? We’re not breaking up; It’s just a poorly timed text message.”

When his eyes glazed over, Roxy knew she had lost him. His utterance of “We… need to talk?” suggested he hadn’t heard anything beyond the first part of her statement. 

“Breathe, James, please. You’re going to pass out.” 

Like he had before, he only continued hearing what he wanted to, saying whatever he could to fit the narrative he’d constructed about the messages he’d received. Labored, but collected enough, he pushed out, “We do need to talk, actually. About you writing love songs about other guys!”

The lamp above the doorway flickered, and Roxy’s vision began to blur. A nasty flashback of Dak chewing her out in her apartment about hanging out with the band flashed behind her eyes. 

“How come it was a breakup song when you thought it was about you, and a love song now that you know it’s about Mag?” 

Asking that question through shakey breaths likely ruined how important it was to her to hear his explanation. 

Mouth flapping open and closed like a fish, James finally found his words as he read over the text messages again. “I couldn’t act like I care, when I do.”

Roxy ran one finger over her top lip to stave off the running she could feel starting in her nostrils. All her brain told her was that she needed to crash into him, squeeze him to death, run her hands through his hair as they spoke and maybe, maybe, he’d be ready to listen to her, but if she reached out to him one more time and he refuted it, she’d break down far sooner than she was on track to. “He just said some things to me earlier about my songs and I asked him to admit they weren’t his to everyone tonight. It’s just a little confusing where we stand now-”

“Who cares where you stand? You have me!’

“Will you stop implying I’m into him? I can’t think of any other way to say it, James! It’s just a stupid fucking song I was dumb enough to write down outside of my songbook and share with the world before it was done!” The writer cried. “And Kendall wonders why I keep that shit to myself… I’ve done my best to share my songs with you before they’re finished recently, but right now you’re just proving why I shouldn’t!”

“Right,” Huffed the boy in front of her. “Because communication is only a two-way street when it comes to anyone but you.”

Jaw falling slack, Roxy’s entire body grew numb. Out of everyone in her life, he was the person she’d been the most vulnerable with. Allowing herself to take the plunge into romantic entanglement together, both emotional and physical. Their entire relationship was built on placing trust in the other person. Just the hint of the idea James didn’t trust her anymore sent the tears Roxy had been holding back spilling out onto her cheeks. “This conversation is over, James. I can’t-I can’t do this right now. This night has already been so hard for me.”

Making way for the door behind James, she rammed her shoulder into his arm. He allowed himself to be knocked to the side. “Sure didn’t seem that way when you were rocking out with your lying, stealing, jerks of ex-band mates.”

Catching the heavy, metal door before it closed, Roxy stood halfway into the building, tossing her head over her shoulder to give her boyfriend one final glance before escaping to the crowd inside. “Sure beats the hell out of a jealous, combative, asshole of a boyfriend.”

She didn’t stop moving, not as she weaved through the tables by the stage to get her bag, or around the people getting down on the dance floor, when Gustavo called her name, or when her sock slid down her heel, digging into the bottom of her foot as she stomped to the front of the venue. 

Thanks to the large number of attendees to the album release party, nearly a dozen taxis were waiting out front to pick up anyone who hadn’t been lucky enough to arrange a ride beforehand. Around her, a handful of adults staggered on the sidewalk, who had taken advantage of the open bar, while others her age went this way and that with their CDs and other Brand New Day merch in hand. 

When she came across the first empty cab, she took a fifty out of her wallet and threw it in the window. “The Palm Woods hotel, as fast as possible.”

The cabbie didn’t need to be asked twice, and the minute the door to the backseat closed, they peeled away from the curb so quickly Roxy feared her head might spin off. 

Now that the party was in the rearview mirror, the girl was oddly relieved, though that didn’t stop the rush of emotions still completely overwhelming her. She was pretty sure she’d been crying for the last several minutes, if evidenced by the tear stains on the blank notebook pages in her lap, and the numbness from James’ words earlier still stuck around. 

How she managed to piss off all of her friends in one night might be some kind of new fucked up world record… One that would make the work day tomorrow anything but normal.

--

hi, lots to say about this one, but mostly that i'm sorry lol this did hurt very much to write!

roxy's lyrics come from an unreleased btr song called intermission if anyone was wondering.

i imagine brand new day sounds a lot like yellowcard (minus the violin) (that's a surprise tool that will help us later) and "heartswell summer" is heavily based if not lifted entirely from their song "with you around"

and as always, thank you for reading! be sure to let me know what you think <3 ily <3

[marshallpupfan]

New Marshall Pics! (Season 11, Ep.02)

Again, these episodes appeared early about a month ago over in the UK, so some of you might have already seen these. I decided to hold off until it popped up on TV, and my wait finally ended today!

The first segment - "Rescue Wheels: Pups Save the Risky Race"

I'm not going to lie - I did not like the last episode, whatsoever. Today, however... I thought both segments were pretty fun! This one involved Boomer and Roxi racing to the top of a snowy mountain, although one was racing more than the other, of course. There was some cute moments at the start, particularly a belly-sliding Marshall, and the mission gave everyone something to do, which was nice to see (even if what some of them did felt a bit forced). Boomer was rather entertaining, as always, so there's that, too. Overall, I enjoyed it!

And the second segment: "Rescue Wheels - Pups Save the Runaway Truck"

Easily the best of the two segments, and arguably one of the best episodes to come out of PAW Patrol in a long time. Seriously, I actually found myself chuckling a few times in this one! Boomer really stole the show and was easily the biggest highlight here, which once again makes it such a shame that this might be the last time we see him. The mission itself was fun, and it even gave me my dream team again (Chase and Marshall), even if it was brief. Overall, the whole thing was a lot of fun! I heard a comedian wrote this episode, and goodness me, I hope he writes for the show again!

That's all for now! We've got another new episode coming next week, although it's a regular episode this time. Some fans believe this is when the cartoon will switch over to the new animation style. There's no confirmation on this yet, but... who knows, maybe my next batch of pics will be Marshall with his new look! I certainly hope so! Guess we'll find out soon!

[hananoami]

HIII im the anon that roxie led to your blog 👉👈 do you think i'd be able to grind enough to obtain caleb's uniform companion if i made an acc rn 😭😭😭

Nonnie, hai hai and welcome~

Now would be the perfect time to make an account since your best chance of getting Caleb’s Farspace Colonel companion is through the limited wish banner [Sky’s Embrace]! I have a simple guide explaining that banner in detail with some personal suggestions at the end.

That banner’s duration starts today, January 22nd and ends on February 08th. If you log in and play every day + claim all the free goodies from Linkon City Hall you should be able to unlock his base companion before it’s over.

There are also codes you can redeem for additional goodies!

20250122

DEEPSPACE3

LYSKJIFULA

As a fresh account you’ll have so many ways to farm diamonds which you’ll need for pulls. I wrote another guide with all the hidden achievements you could do in addition to Abyssal Chaos and the other easy achievements listed in game.

It’ll be a lot to take in so if you ever feel overwhelmed or need some guidance I’ll be happy to help to the best of my ability~ 🫶