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diagnosed-anxiety-disorder · 2 years

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I AM LOSING MY MIND OVER A SONIC ROCK BAND AU SO IMMA MAKE A BUNCH OF HEADCANONS BECAUSE I CANNOT CONTAIN THIS

this is what happens when you mix an emo punk rock fan with the sonic universe-

Sonic - Lead singer / guitar (kinda like Billie Joe Armstrong or Dexter Holland) Shadow - guitar / backing vocals (Frank Iero. NEED I SAY MORE) Tails - keyboardist / synth / DJ (it's giving Cumulus from Ghost or Sid from Slipknot) Silver - bass guitar (maybe even like the Geddy Lee pedal set up too) Knuckles - drummer (with the Neil Peart drum set up and CC from BVB vibes)

Sonic: pop punk vibe!!

probably shreads too fast on the guitar and loses his guitar picks every goddamn minute so he has his entire mic stand covered with those guitar pick holders

does the thing that Freddy Mercury does where he picks up the mic stand and walks around while singing

definitely crowd surfs and tells the mosh pit to go wild

*kicks over amp* AAAAAAAA

has random stickers over EVERYTHING, guitar case, guitar, you name it

reads all of the signs in the audience and sometimes replies to them

stops the show in the middle and starts ranting about literally whatever

*trips over every wire possible* IM OKAY!!

comes up with lyrics with Shadow. sonic's better at delivering than composing

mini list of songs he would FUCK UP /pos

Pretty Fly (For A White Guy) by The Offspring

The Zoo by Scorpions (him and Shadow are probably obsessed with the Scorpions bc theyre a good band with rock ballads)

Fist Bump from Sonic Forces (i hc that he sings this as a duet with Shadow. i feel like their voices would go well together)

MeMe from Miligram (i also hc that Sonic knows Japanese if it isnt canon)

In Too Deep by Sum 41

Shadow: classic rock, hard rock, rock ballads, heavy metal and EMO

he either stays in one place the whole show or runs around

Frank Iero chaotic energy i wanna see him go wild

contrasting to his introverted personality, on stage since the audience is all dark and he cant see the MASSIVE crowd the band has, he feels like he can let loose and stuff

he probably has had his fingers start bleeding during a live but didnt notice until Silver started freaking out

has probably broke down and cried on stage once but everyone comforted him and he finished the show EPICALLY

always makes sure that the crowd is staying safe. probably did that one thing that Andy Biersack did when he jumped into the crowd to personally fight this one guy

oh yeah he will also get pissed if you diss the band at their show or if you're just being an asshole and will deal with you personally

will beat you up if you assault someone in the pit

WALL OF DEATH WALL OF DEATH WALL OF DEATH

definitely a perfectionist and probably studied classical music theory. definitely a JS Bach fan and played the piano once

comes up with lyrics and melody line

mini list of songs he would do amazing on:

Mobius by HiiragiKirai cover by Meychan

The Show Must Go On by Queen (HES SUCH A QUEEN FAN ISTG)

Dragula by Rob Zombie

Infected by Bad Religion

Gone Away by The Offspring (he's def thinking abt Maria for this one) gone away lyrics yeah ouch-

Tails: also classic rock fan but he also likes vocaloid!!

"accidentally" G notes the crowd (emos)

*plays a rick roll sample randomly*

during the parts where he doesn't have anything to do he just starts flying and tossing signed photo cards or some kind of merch into the crowd

probably manages some part of their social media as well

literally live tweeting the performance

is the supplier of Sonic's extra guitar pics and sometimes makes custom ones for him that are a bit more grippy? (idk how guitar pics work im a violinist)

honestly the most wholesome person there, everyone loves him, he goes apeshit sometimes but we love him

multi-instrumentalist and sometimes even makes his own instruments!

he plays the Theramin and nobody knows what it is but it sounds cool

makes up tracks on the spot during solos sometimes

CHORDS GO BRR

is the one that does the mixing and stuff for their songs

personal favs he would love:

Jump by Van Halen (everyone likes this song, if you dont then ur wrong /lh)

Kingslayer by BMTH & BABYMETAL

Lost Valley from Sonic Forces (I LOVE THIS SONG SM)

Silver: goth, heavy metal, Ghost specifically

owns a Mikey Fucking Way t-shirt

probably can play the upright bass or cello as well

people from the audience give him gifts and it makes him very happy

also has a lot of stickers on his bass and it's case but the stickers are color coded and organized vs sonics random bullshit GO

i like to think that he wears fingerless gloves

is the one that stops Shadow from jumping into the crowd when someone disses the band

always makes sure that everyone in the band has like a solo area where they can just go wild because he thinks it's more fun that way

probably can do improv on the spot

gets excited when they have an acoustic live show

helps come up with album cover ideas and all of the depth in their album / song lore

Last Train To London by ELO (hes probably a big ELO fan)

Detroit Rock City by KISS (this is my dad's fav so it's mine too)

The Legacy by Black Veil Brides

Knuckles: thrash metal Slayer fan TM

can do the thing where the drumset go upside down

similar to Sonic, he throws his drumsticks bc he loves playing so much so he has a bunch of extra sticks

ties back his hair during recording bc it gets in his face

HEADBANGING WOOOOO

has A BUNCH of song cover suggestions for the band

probably plays the drums randomly while sonic is ranting and sometimes does a duet with tails

sings along to the songs but nobody can hear him bc his drums are too damn loud

accidentally stabbed his snare drum once and started panicking

he definitely gives a name to all of his different drum parts (his favorite is the crash symbol and bass drum)

everyone thinks he was a former band kid but he keeps denying it

sometimes people think the band is using a drum machine but they're not

SONG HCS

Raining Blood by Slayer

1000 Memories by Bad Religion

Eyeless by Slipknot (RIP JOEY JORDINSON I WILL CRY)

You Give Love A Bad Name by Bon Jovi

ok and now for some random headcanons!!

Rouge is the agent or like manager for the group and helps pick out outfits for them and does stage design

ik i put in a lot of classic rock songs in my song headcanons but i feel like the band would be like a Smashing Pumpkins, early BVB, The Offspring and Sum 41 kinda vibe. and ofc MCR and Blink-182

everyone is a fan favorite, but they all dont know how to interact with fans except for Tails and Sonic

Silver and Tails sitting alone in the recording studio in the middle of the night writing a song aaaaa

sonic and shadow doing those song battles

they all play guitar hero, it's the law

they actually freaked out when MCR dropped the new single out of NOWHERE

sometimes their punk songs is just dissing G.U.N.

they have a fanart / fangift wall where they put all of the stuff their fans give them

the tour bus is like sectioned off and everyone decorates their space differently so it looks like 5 different aesthetics in one place

IM SORRY THIS IS SO LONG BUT IM SO PASSIONATE ABOUT THIS I DISREGARDED ALL OF MY HOMEWORK TO WRITE THIS OKAY BYE

#sonic band au #sonic headcanons #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #tails the fox #silver the hedgehog #knuckles the echidna #MY BRAIN GO BRRRR #guitarist sonic #lead singer sonic #guitarist shadow #keyboardist tails #bassist silver #drummer knuckles

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eljeebee · 1 year

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Side: Elizabeth Marie Monroe Swanson & Sidera Millicent Swanson Harper

"Pancakes!" Sidera Millicent Swanson Harper squealed. "Thanks, Auntie Eliza!"

"Yeah, yeah," Elizabeth Marie Monroe Swanson rolled her eyes playfully. "Go on, eat. You've taken a bath already?"

"Yes, Auntie. I'm excited for school! Meeting new friends in a new home!" Sidera, also known as Sid, placed a few pancakes on her plate.

"I'm excited for you too, Sid," Elizabeth smiled. "Now, I'm going to freshen up. Don't open doors for strangers, got it?"

"Yes, Auntie!"

After taking a bath, Elizabeth did her make-up. After applying her lipstick, she stared at her reflection. She smirked.

"Eliza, you did what is right," she reassured herself, spritzing perfume. "This is for Sid. This is for...for her mother, your sister."

She forced to smile at herself.

Just before Sid could go to school, Elizabeth took out her tripod and camera.

"Alright, Sid, let's take a picture for the memory," Elizabeth set up her camera. "A new leaf in a new town."

Sid smiled up at her when she joined the former beside her. Then, she posed for the camera smiling. After the timer went off, the camera flashed and then clicked, taking their picture.

Elizabeth showed the photo to her niece. "How is it, Sid?"

"We look beautiful, Auntie," Sid said. She kissed her aunt's cheek. "Okay, I'm off now."

"Take care, sweetie. Kick a guy's crotch when they're being a jerk to you, alright?" Elizabeth cried, seeing her niece out the gate.

"I will!"

Everything will be fine, Elizabeth. Everything will be fine. Elizabeth watched Sid's figure disappear through the subway.

Little footnote: I enjoyed creating Elizabeth...especially with the make-up part....it's like a mini-game to me. Top that off with praline's make up CC...*chef's kiss*

#the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 gameplay #simblr #The Davis'#lana play some gamez #Side: Swanson & Harper

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latibvles · 1 year

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titling is for the weak. part three to the band au. also putting this on ao3 so uhh watch out for that when I post the link there! this turned out WAAAAAAAAY longer than I initially planned for it to be. anyways have the guys, a bar, a performance, and Vicki's perspective again as a treat. a special thank you (again) to @almost-a-class-act and @cody-helix02 for listening to me lament over naming this goddamn band. this one is aptly just called “The Bar Scene.” You Can also read the rest of this under the tag “ #au: let me down easy ” :)

A Sunday with Devil’s Piano starts in the studio. Reuben “Chuckler” Jeurgens (although his friends also call him Lew, of which he has many) walks in with Wilbur “Runner” Conley hot on his heels. Between them are five iced coffees. Jeurgens smiles as he crosses to put the fifth in the mini fridge they put in the practice room.

“For Lena, when she comes in.” He explains, in reference to Lena Riggi, the sound engineer who’s worked with the group since their first album, and also known for her work with the Basilone Brothers. As Conley heads immediately to the drum kit, Sidney “Sid” Phillips, bassist, walks in — face lighting up when Chuckler hands him the coffee, but he’s looking around the room like something’s missing.

That something, or rather, someone, is Bill “Hoosier” Smith, their lead guitarist and typically — the first one in the room.

Vicki taps away at the keyboard, glancing periodically at the digital clock on the bedside table, and then at the slip of paper, the name of the club the guys would be performing at sprawled in Corrigan’s neat print. He’d given her the venue name and address earlier that day. The guys would be playing tonight in town, as good of an opportunity as any to get photos. She figured she could hack away at the beginning of the article now.

But her words keep getting away from her and what replaces them isn’t nearly as productive.

Staring at the blinking cursor on her screen, the only thing that comes to mind is an acoustic guitar, its owner smug-grinned and messy-haired, making sharp remarks in a rumpled white t-shirt. And every time he caught her stare, she knew he got a sort of satisfaction from watching her face flush, or watching her look away.

Monday was worse. A clean-shaved, alert, not-hungover Bill Smith was more bold than late, disheveled, embarrassed and hungover Bill Smith. He brushed by her, looming over her notepad and she could smell the spice from his aftershave — but she didn’t say anything. He gestured with his pointer finger to her heading, grinned.

You always make a heart for the letter I?

Only for headings, she’d wanted to say. But he was far too close and his eyes were far too blue for her to form a coherent thought, so she just rolled her eyes instead

Vicki’s been working far too long to not be able to recognize a honey trap. Bill could be as kind and funny as her neighbors in Melbourne, it didn’t change the fact that rock bands lived life in the fast lane, and she’s watched too many of her coworkers end up in messes of their own after falling for the easy smiles and pretty faces that this line of work attracted.

The first thirty minutes is a hodge-podge of activity. They step into the booth to record what they can, and exchange ideas for new songs for their next album. “He’ll show up,” says Conley, not especially worried about his bandmate’s absence. “He’s just directionally challenged.”

And sure enough, thirty minutes past call time — Bill “Hoosier” Smith walks into the studio. He’s narrow-eyed and clearly exhausted from the previous night (when the band held a much more intimate performance at The Troubadour). What occurred after the band’s 30-minute set? They’ll never tell. But Smith wastes no time in grabbing his guitar, and getting down to business.

The best and worst part was that Bill, contrary to what the gossip mags and paparazzi claimed, didn’t mind striking conversation and answering questions. He, like the rest of his bandmates, was endearing in his own way. He talked fondly about his grandparents and his parents, his siblings and growing up in rural Indiana.

But Bill would ask questions too, and no one wants to hear that sob story, so she skirts around it with the story of how she met Bob Leckie after her interview and how he’d crashed on her couch for a couple months after breaking up with a girlfriend.

She takes one last look at the clock, and scrunches her nose. She’d have to continue this later. Thanks a lot, Hoosier.

Picking out clothes isn’t a difficult affair — slipping on the black dress and the heels, flattening her hair and parting it down the middle, hanging her camera around her neck in lieu of a necklace. Vicki calls for a cab while putting on makeup and thanks whatever higher power there is that she doesn’t poke her own eye out with a mascara wand when her brain is elsewhere.

By the time she’s stepping into the cab from the hotel lobby, she’s already fiddling with her camera in an attempt to stave off her own thoughts.

It was a smart move on Corrigan’s part, keeping their talent fresh with these smaller gigs and not letting the local nightlife forget their faces. She wasn’t at The Troubadour the night they performed, but she’d be there tonight. If the label wanted them to maintain relevance, this was definitely the way to keep at it without compromising the quality of their work.

Vicki sees the line out the door before she sees the white lights of the sign for the bar itself, and withholds a groan as she pays for the cab. She had no personal qualms about pulling out her ID, and if that didn’t work she’d just have to call Corrigan. She takes one last look at herself in the cab’s rearview before stepping out and crossing the street. She focuses on the precise click of her heels rather than the indiscernible noises of offense as she skips the line. The bouncer at the door looks at her with a raised brow.

“I’m with the band,” she supplies him with, watching as his eyes narrow, reluctant to let her in. She reaches into her purse to grab her Press ID. As she’s pulling it out, a warm hand presses against her back, and she snaps her head to the right.

Hugh Corrigan’s in one of his finely tailored suits, and behind him are three familiar faces with large black cases in their hands. He smiles at her, then looks to the bouncer as Vicki flashes the card to him.

“She’s with us,” Corrigan reaffirms with a nod, ushering her inside before security can object. He immediately retracts his hand after that as they walk into the mostly-empty bar, its future patrons outside and buzzing with excitement. “Hope you weren’t waiting there too long, Miss Graves.” He offers, all squared-shoulders and polite smiles.

The ones trailing in behind him are anything but polite.

“Shit, I didn’t realize you were comin’ to this thing,” Chuckler’s voice is drenched in mirth, flashing a smile. “What, you invited Leckie too?”

“What if I did?”

“Well we would’ve told Hoos here to put on a nicer shirt.” Without meaning to, her gaze immediately moves to him — and Sid lingering beside him, and he returns it. He’s in a black short-sleeved button-down, a watch on one wrist and several bracelets on the other. His hair’s parted and gelled in an attempt to keep it out of his face. He eyes Corrigan with blatant suspicion, although the latter can’t see it, before looking back at her and eyeing her up and down.

“I think he looks alright as he is,” Vicki decides, without thinking about it too hard. His lip curls, and she’s grateful for the dim lights hiding her flush. Adjusting the end of her dress, she rolls her eyes and looks away.

The back entrance door slams, echoing through the space before Runner calls out.

“Y’know the band performing before us is called Dumb Fucks?!”

—

Dumb Fucks isn’t half-bad for an opener, but she’s not here for them, so she sits with her Coke and lets her legs swing from the barstool, watching and waiting to approach the stage later once the guys take it. She didn’t plan on drinking anything stronger until after she got her pictures — if she stuck around that long. Across the bar, tending to drinks, a familiar face hums.

“You didn’t tell me you were working tonight,” Margie points out. Margie was currently interning at Fusion, and worked as a bartender here on weeknights. Vicki shrugs, watching the brown-haired girl salt a rim swiftly and then get to work on a margarita for someone two seats down. “Or that the drummer was cute.” Vicki laughs, with a roll of her eyes.

“Right, cause that’s what at the top of the list, cute drummers for Margie.”

“Well it could be, if you loved me more.”

“I love you just enough,” Vicki assures as Margie moves down the bar to slide the margarita over the counter, take another order, and mix another drink.

“Not enough to get me the number of your cute drummer friend.”

“You mean my drummer client?”

“Same difference,” and then, tossing a rag over her shoulder and leaning on the bar, she gets a catlike grin. “Although the guitarist couldn’t stop looking your way during soundcheck, you know,” there’s a giggle in there, somewhere, as Margie’s grin grows and Vicki rolls her eyes, reverting her attention back to the band onstage to avoid Margie peering right through her.

“Kinda hard not to look when someone sticks a camera in your face, I reckon.”

“Oh you’re the worst,” she bemoans, all but flinging herself on the countertop. “Right, cause every guy you interview smirks at you and licks their lips and totally shows off on a guitar solo, right? All for the camera?” Vicki laughs, turning to look at her friend who’s resting her chin on her fist.

“Do you want me to answer that seriously?” Margie huffs, exaggerating her point by rattling her cocktail shaker with a certain type of vigor as the opening act wraps their set. Ice rattling is drowned out by the scattered applause and faint murmuring as the lights of the stage dim so they can change the drumkit and the guitars. She then finalizes it by sticking out her tongue before pouring the drink into another glass and breezing by to another patron.

Vicki rises after a few minutes, camera in her hands, as the murmuring starts to crescendo and the lights come up with Runner’s familiar drum kit. There’s a fairly sizable crowd around the stage, but thankfully she gets to the front of it — and there’s enough room for her to move about. Her palms are unreasonably sweaty, and her hair’s standing on end, ignoring the occasional bumps and jostling from other people trying to cross the floor.

When Chuckler comes out, and then Sid, she can’t help but giggle at their stark contrast. Chuckler, all rock-star swagger and charm, versus Sid, who’s somehow maintained that endearingly sweet smile, his cheeks already flushed under the lights. He catches her eye and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he takes his spot further from her, at the left of the stage. And then Runner, full of energy, waving his sticks in the air once he takes his spot behind his beloved drums.

She really tries not to stare too hard, when Hoosier walks on right behind Runner. She knew it was coming, but Vicki swallows hard nonetheless. He looks positively golden under the lights, catching all those shades of dirty blonde in his hair, that looks way softer than she remembers it looking earlier (not that she’d been looking for long). Now though, it feels almost criminal to look away. She might need a drink after this after all.

They go straight into the first song. Chuckler’s voice in the mic is a surefire wakeup call, and she snaps back into herself.

She heard and watched them practice several times in the past two days, she even sat through soundcheck prior to this. She had pictures of them tuning up, one where he looked through his lashes and grinned at her, but said nothing.

This is fundamentally different. Were it not for the view being a bit different through her camera, she could get completely lost in the sight of him. It feels less like her losing her train of thought and more like him stealing it.

And if Vicki weren’t so painstakingly alert, every hair standing on end — she could mistake that warm feeling in her stomach as her being drunk.

She shifts her focus to Sid and his bright grin, fingers dancing across the neck of the bass. He nods his head along to the music and she smiles as the camera shudders and she gets three more shots of Sid, in all his bass-playing glory. Then shifting his attention to Chuckler, sticking his tongue out on the ad libs, his raspy baritone reaching every corner of the room.

By the time he greets the crowd at the end of the first song, they’re already buzzing with energy, barely able to contain their murmurings as Chuckler speaks into the mic.

She watches and moves as her camera requires of her, taking pictures throughout and conscious of bumping into other patrons. The guys onstage work up a sweat, jumping around or otherwise moving. Hoosier gets this grin on his face that she’s never really seen. All-encompassing, directed towards the guys around him, his hair no longer neatly done and now strewn about his forehead. He licks his lips and her eyes divert to his hands as they fly across the frets. He makes it look effortless.

He looks golden.

By the end of the set, she’s already making her way towards the bar, to Margie who’s got one of her more knowing smirks on her face.

“So are you gonna introduce me to the drummer or what?”

“No, but if you get me a drink I might change my mind.” Margie laughs at that with a roll of her eyes, but likely recognizes the look on Vicki’s face — fixing to make her a Manhattan.

Now, at the very least, she can blame the warm, tingly feeling on alcohol and not—

“Thought I knew that lady in the front row.” Fuck.

She turns her head, as Hoosier takes up the seat next to her. She swallows hard as she catches the whiff of sweat mixed with whatever cologne he wears. In the moments where he asks Margie to get him a beer and she agrees, Vicki does her best to brace herself.

“And what if that seat was taken?”

“I’m sure whoever he is won’t mind if I keep you company.” Vicki scoffs, finishing off her drink and ordering another.

“Is that what you’re calling it?”

Hoosier twists the bottle around between his fingers. Vicki’s gaze moves from his hands back to his eyes. He runs his fingers through his hair, to push some of it from his eyes, but it still falls over his forehead.

“Well then what would you call it?”

“A bad idea,” his brows shoot up at her forwardness. She takes a sip of her drink, focusing on the burn of the whiskey as she swallows rather than on the intensity of his stair. “You’re much more marketable if you aren’t seen with a girl. The public likes attractive, single young musicians.”

He leans towards her and she sucks in a breath when his arm brushes hers. She tries to tell herself it’s for purely logical reasons — it’s a crowded bar and he’s just spent the past two hours carrying harmonies and talking into a mic, so he doesn't want to strain his voice by talking over the din. But Hoosier makes it very hard to believe that, looking her up and down like he did when they first walked in.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a bad liar?” She turns her head a little more to stare at him, saying nothing. “‘N you still haven’t told me to go away yet.” He points out. She swallows hard, licking her lips and returning his stare.

“Would you go away? If I told you to?”

“If you want me to,” She doesn’t have a response for that, not one that’s true, so she says nothing. But Vicki doesn’t look away, and neither does he. He just grins, knowing, and she doesn’t know if she wants to wring his neck out or pull him towards her and make him finish what he’s trying to start here. More importantly, she really hates how he’s seeing right through her right now. “You look good, by the way. Forgot to say that.”

Musicians really are nothing but trouble.

“You didn’t have to,” She can feel a flush creeping up her neck, but she certainly hasn’t drank enough to be incoherent. She knows it’s him, doing that. She hates that too. “I saw you staring.”

“You said I looked good,” he returns, bumping his knee against her bare one. “And I saw you staring.”

“I said you looked alright.”

“Ain’t it funny how synonyms work?” She rolls her eyes and snorts, shaking her head slightly.

“You’re not funny.”

“Then why’d you laugh?” He challenges, and she knows it’s meant to be playful. Vicki presses her lips together, and with her free hand, she takes his shoulder, gently pushing him back so there’s a distance between them again. It’s hard to ignore the heat of his skin through his shirt or the firm muscle there. He looks at her hand, and then at her. She glances to Margie tending to the bar through her periphery, in an effort to remember where and who they are.

“Cause this isn’t gonna go how you want it to.” She lets her hand fall, resting her elbows on the bar itself, waiting for the scrunch of his nose and some kind of venomous words thrown her way that she won’t write about to maintain some semblance of pride. You weren’t the first, Bill Smith, and you probably won’t be the last — but I’m damned before I become a notch on your bedpost.

But he doesn’t do anything like that. Bill takes another sip from his beer, then sets it down.

“I don’t want it to go anywhere,” he sounds almost reassuring. The smile Bill gives her then, is almost boyish. “I just like it when you talk.”

It’s not what she was expecting and the way he says it, as warm as he feels, leaves her without anything that she could say in rebuttal. She can’t help but wait for a ‘but’ or some kind of catch, even though nothing of the sort comes from him. Vicki stares at him, mouth slightly agape but he doesn’t seem to notice until she clears her throat.

“Watch my drink, yeah? I’m going to the restroom.” She watches him drag the glass towards him, and without another word, she slips off the barstool to beeline to the bathroom.

If Vicki’s heart is hammering harder than it had been all night, that’s no one’s business but hers.

#bill hoosier smith x oc #au: let me down easy #. vicki graves #the pacific fic #the pacific oc #hoosier x vicki

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lordtonic · 1 year

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hrmmmm job spacessss....places that reveal things about people,,,

prestos locker doesn't have much stuff in it but a taped photo of vernon and its drawn on heavily with crude remarks, there's some clothes too but he forgets them all the time

Sids desk always has a different name plate, he prefers older office phones with multiple buttons, his files aren't organized by any real system but he knows right where they are, dog's bed is under there and a pile of mini paper airplanes fill the desk with his pens and stationary

Damsels desk is always a mess and unorganized, until it isnt, his system of cataloging is based on numbers and subject, he always writes a little hard so evidence of long past reports are etched into the wood, his computer setup changes almost nightly

The front serving desk of jetters shop always has a container of varying sizes that hold little pastries, he usually writes on the glass with chalk marker with swirls and birds and leaves, the inside area of it has a pillow so he can climb in and fall asleep comfortably in listening distance of the bell above the door, it creaks because it's old but madame helped him buy it so he's in no rush to replace it

Madame's lace room looks almost like it's covered in cobwebs till you realize she's tricked you!! It's all lace webbing!!! but it's neat and she has a wall sized shelf of cube cubbies for her needles and buttons and any thread related tool you could imagine, the chairs are ripped from jet's younger days, there's a vinyl shelf of dark sounding ball music

#sisjgshshsgss #at school alot of the grad students have rentednout studios esp if theyre teaching #and each one is rlly different #i just like to thing of people affect on their world

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chanelfunnell · 2 years

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Anon, from yesterday...uf you think LadyPens are an official arm of official Pittsburgh Penguins organisation and a foundation... Kathy pores at all glamorous fashionable events and photoshoots posted on their Insta, otherwise hiding before...you get it....Sidney Crosby has been tuted since 15 he's Canadian ice hockey golden kid wonder child ....he was quite paranoid...no way bonkers from Puckbunny Parkour got hands on Kathy and Crosby's sister's private photo...I am not a witness of these days but something is still on if you search ...these posts about Kathy looks like updates about her life like you see now on Instagram under Pens umbrella. She looks amazing, still very pretty but her face has been plastered over videos and glued to Crosby for years. She did not change her look though but I'd never recognise any other woman over a decade just based on the photo...btw M BLW was known by the name but on the radio. Her name is not featured on her company's IN account that's all shoes lol...I have to Google it and check it on UK biz register...Ashley is visibly an expert of Brisson's herd....I remember huge dramas about Taylor Hall lol and Oilers played like bs team, just collecting top ranks and still bs defense...all these young players were without visible girlfriends.. Hall was incredible drama and fight lol .more. than Crosby sometimes. Sid has fancied himself they go all after him, so journos generally....hunted like by paps. Lindsey was nicknamed Chinese because her jaw is quite strong ..even Elina who dated Hammer who was not on their radar did not escape.... obviously the most popular topic and any women around NHL for clickbait and known and seen but mysterious was Kathy Leutner, Marketa, Sid the Kid, Taylor Hall lol...scandalous Sequin was not serious competition with his flings and scandals at all lol....all photos of Sidney on and off ice, Hall on ice and some puckbunnies claiming they have slept with him. Leaked photo of Kathy and guess work ..Marketa and her scuba softshell black mini skirt for rivalry game between Pens and Flyers and her jokes bout dancing wrestlers Crosby and Giroux. Claude Giroux in diving tank afterwards as a response and more drama online ..couple of hours later all about Taylor Hall and topped up by pictures of Sidney Crosby lol...meanwhile Kaner and his scandals or new flames, Toews sometimes and couple of young guns...2011...strong archive...LOL

I think Kathy has leaked her private photos and updates ..on these fan forum boards ..

#nhl hockey #sidney crosby #kathyleutner #taylor hall #pyckbunnies

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it-be-sid · 6 months

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Happy Easter, and best of luck on any egg hunts you embark on!

#kirby #gooey kirby #bandana waddle dee #easter #Sid’s mini photos

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superstoregreys · 2 years

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Safebox sids

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Please email if you’re interested in donating food or auction items.Īdditionally, if you are interested in donating to the LTV Class of 2019 project, please visit: and click Project Donation. All proceeds from this event go to support YPU. User-centric, single-point control device that monitors and manages SafeBox FIDs. Read More Master Control Device The Master Control Device is the physical lockout station for all Field Isolation Devices (FIDs). The Class is seeking in-kind donations from individuals and/or local businesses – food donations or silent auction items – for the fundraising event on May 8. What is SafeBox The SafeBox is a two-part LOTO systemconsisting of a Master Control Deviceand a Field Isolation Device(FID). Click here to learn more and register for the event. The event will include a silent auction, raffles, wine pull, music, hors d’oeuvres and a cash bar.

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Wi-Fi internet access at a surcharge, a mini bar and a free safe box. at the Schenectady Armory to support the fulfillment of the boxes. the Ras-Om El Sid hill area, just five minutes by shuttle bus from the beach. Search results for: safe controller SID Yale Home Safe 250-DB1 Yale Home Safe 250-DB1 0 Yale Safe 0 Yale Digital Fireproof Safe Key Safe Box Yale. The LTV Class of 2019 is hosting a community fundraising event: Showering Young Parents United: A Community Baby Shower Investing in the Future of Local Families through SIDS Awareness and Addressing Basic Needs on Wednesday, May 8 from 5:30-8 p.m. These boxes contain everything an infant requires during the first three months of life, while reinforcing the prevention of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) by providing a safe place for babies to sleep on their own and on their backs. In 2019, YPU made the decision to expand their services to provide additional support to these families with a Baby Safety Box initiative for newborns who are due this spring. (YPU) as the LTV Class of 2019 project recipient.įounded in 2018, YPU is a Schenectady-based, non-profit organization that provides education, case management and comprehensive support services to teen parents and their children. Leadership Tech Valley (LTV), an initiative of the Capital Region Chamber, has selected Young Parents United, Inc. We understand the importance of making that special romantic moment truly memorable, which is why we prepare specially tailored wedding packages for couples seeking to seal their lifelong oaths in an enchanting romantic ambience.News ApLeadership Tech Valley Class of 2019 to Hold Fundraiser for Young Parents United, Inc. And no moment is more special than the moment in which you and your partner's lives become intertwined in the bond of love forever. The most special moments in life are meant to be lived to the fullest, cherished passionately, and remembered forever. Whether you prefer a Champagne Cocktail Indoors or around the Pool, a Ceremony by the Beach, an intimate Dinner with Waiter Service or a Lavish Buffet for a larger party, we will tailor your event the way you desire. Our resorts provide the best scenery for a most beautiful wedding photo opportunity. The clear blue water of the Red Sea and the mesmerizing aura of our locations will add a romantic enchantment to your wedding.Įxperience a truly unforgettable time of your life at the perfect spot to seal the deal together. Take your major steps in your long life together at our beautiful locations.

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#Safebox sids

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solejust · 2 years

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Safebox sids

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Findings presented at meetings should be considered preliminary until published in a peer-reviewed medical journal. The results were presented at the recent Pediatric Academic Societies meeting, in San Francisco. Most mothers who received a baby box said they used the box as a sleeping place for their infants, and 12 percent said the box was the usual sleeping space for their infants.Īmong mothers who exclusively breast-fed and also used the box as a sleeping space, 59 percent said the box made breast-feeding easier, according to the study. Whether this approach can significantly reduce sleep-related deaths in large populations over time also needs to be evaluated, she said in a Temple news release. Megan Heere, an assistant professor of pediatrics. "Future studies are needed to determine if the effect of this intervention is sustainable through the first 6 to 12 months of life," said lead investigator Dr. The combination of baby box and face-to-face instructions reduced the rate of bed-sharing by 25 percent during infants' first eight days of life, the study found.įor exclusively breast-fed infants - who are at increased risk of bed-sharing - there was a 50 percent reduction in bed-sharing, the researchers said. The other half received only standard nursing discharge instructions with information about safe infant sleep. Half were instructed face-to-face about safe infant sleep and given a baby box (a cardboard bassinet) with a firm mattress. Now, researchers report that " baby boxes" and parent education can help reduce the unsafe practice.īed-sharing is linked with sleep-related deaths in babies, including sudden infant death syndrome ( SIDS), and accidental suffocation and strangulation, according to background information with this study.įor the study, researchers at Temple University Hospital in Philadelphia recruited more than 2,700 new mothers. Easily copy passwords and visit websites.FRIDAY, (HealthDay News) - Child care experts say it's dangerous for infants to sleep in the same bed with their parents. Search and sort items and files rapidly. You can add any file and make it secure easily. As a cloud based internet application, it is a medium for the provision of document management services, as well as a truly convenient supplementary workspace. In its conception are the application of best practices within the mortgage lending process.

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Support videos, audios, pdf files and all kinds of files. SafeboxIQ is specifically created for mortgage companies and operations. You can create photo albums and store your private photos and make them secure. You can create notebooks and notes and make them secure.

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rose-edith · 3 years

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hello! if possible (totally fine if not), i would love to read some sid x sullivan headcanons! thank you!

Hope you like it!

Sid x Sullivan dates would include:

•whenever there’s motor racing anywhere close to Kembleford Inspector Sullivan gets tickets and takes Sid on a day out to the races. The bonus here is that although they can’t show affection in public, they can at least be more friendly towards one another without it becoming the gossip of the town.

•Inspector Sullivan isn’t a country boy at heart, he struggles with the ‘mess’ of nature. So Sid is determined to show him the beauty of it too. Which is why Sid takes the Inspector skinny dipping at a Lake he found- they go at dusk when no one else is around. The Inspector found it embarrassing at first, but when he saw how at ease Sid was he tried to emulate it, and actually he found that he enjoyed it.

•Sid skills at sneaking into places are really put to good use during their relationship. He regularly sneaks into Inspector Sullivan’s house so the two of them can spend an evening or a night together- they’ll dance together in the parlour, taking it in turns to lead the gentle shuffling.

•cinema dates are rather more tricky, not least because their relationship is so secret. But they manage it- sort of. Sid will sit behind the Inspector as they watch a film, to the average bystander there’s nothing amiss, but secretly they’re holding hands.

•they go away together for a weekend here or there. Everyone at the mini break destination always assumes they’re just best friends out for a lads weekend so they’re left to get on with it. They do things that Inspector Sullivan enjoys- they go to art galleries, museums, book signings etc. Sid is just happy to see his boyfriend happy.

•on one jaunt away from home Sid and Sullivan take some photos together and each of them has one framed and kept in their bedrooms. It’s very romantic really.

•Sid knows of an underground club where gay men often go to meet and dance and drink, a place where they can be open and free to express themselves- they both know it’s a risk to go. But still they do, and they enjoy a whole evening of holding hands, dancing together to live music, kissing as they wanted to and they felt for once like they belonged. It was a magical night for them both.

•overall their dates are secret, but very special to them both. They’re very happy to be together.

#father brown #father brown headcanons #father brown imagine #bbc father brown #sid x sullivan

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alaenawrites · 4 years

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Soon You’ll Get Better- Coops

Hi!! I’m the anon who is doing a sweater weather x folklore mini-series!! I have a few already in the making right now so keep an eye out... but before I do that I have to do this. I was listening to my favorite sad Swift songs (as one does after a breakup) and this one came up (of course) and there is no other song in the entire world that will make me cry more about the end of SW chapter 16 right now, so... you get this, set over a few days a little after that! I promise some of these will be happy haha.

Characters of course by the absolutely amazing @lumosinlove !!! <33

~~~~~~~~~~

The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair In doctor's-office-lighting, I didn't tell you I was scared That was the first time we were there

Remus barely made it through the door, hair messy, coat definitely buttoned wrong, before collapsing into a chair by Sirius’s bed. Sirius, who was hooked up to at least five machines; Sirius, who had his eyes closed and, he had been told, hadn’t opened them in hours. Sirius, who was laying pale in a hospital bed, looking so much like he had that day, years ago, that Remus felt his heart rip into even smaller bits.

He remembered that day, of course, still had nightmares about it. He remembered Sirius’s eyes, steely gray and focused on his own as he was carried away on a stretcher, he remembered the waiting and the pacing and the sitting and the waiting some more.

He remembered their first physical therapy appointment. Remus had tried to keep his voice calm as he stretched Sirius’s ankle and helped him stand. The lights had been too bright, everything had been too loud- or maybe that was just the fear. He had tried his best not to let his worry show, but-

But, Remus thought with a shaky breath. That was then. This is now.

Holy orange bottles, each night I pray to you Desperate people find faith, so now I pray to Jesus too And I say to you

Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon 'Cause you have to

Remus had never really been religious, but now felt like a good time to try. He ran his fingertips over his watch, pressing his lips to the words etched underneath- mon vœu.

I wish, he prayed silently, to who knows what, or who, I wish for Sirius. I know I have him, but- but I need him to be okay. I need him to be okay. Please. That’s my wish.

Sirius’s hand was cold- well, colder than usual- when Remus intertwined their fingers. He squeezed gently, resting his forehead against Sirius’s.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” he whispered against the tears forming, “But... I love you. I love you so much. You’ll be okay. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to wake up and you’ll be fine and you’re going to come home soon and I’m going to make you dinner, whatever you want. I’ll make you sandwiches, or pasta, or I’ll get Sid’s, anything. You hear me?” Remus squeezed his eyes shut, breathing in Sirius’s hair. He smelled like doctors and rubbing alcohol. “You’re coming home soon. You have to.”

You like the nicer nurses, you make the best of a bad deal

Remus was shaken awake gently by one of the nurses, holding out a bottle with a kind smile. He rubbed his eyes and glanced around frantically.

“Is everything okay? Is he- He’s-”

“He’s fine, love. Well, as fine as he was yesterday,” she said softly, writing something in Sirius’s chart as she checked the monitors. “It’s been a few hours, I wanted to let you rest, but I figured you’d need something to eat or drink.”

Remus twisted the cap off the bottle, eyes focused on Sirius’s hand on the bed. He took a sip and vaguely registered that it was Gatorade. Blue.

The nurse nodded at him before making her way to the door, and Remus looked up, grabbing her arm gently as she passed by. She looked down in surprise.

“I just- Thanks. Thank you.”

She just smiled, a little sadly, and patted his hand.

I'll paint the kitchen neon, I'll brighten up the sky I know I'll never get it, there's not a day that I won't try And I'll say to you

Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon 'Cause you have to

“I’ve been thinking about our home, baby,” he whispered into Sirius’s hair. The nurses hadn’t let him get much closer than pulling a chair up to the side of Sirius’s bed, but Remus was making it work.

“We could paint the kitchen yellow... I think it would look happy. I need a little happy right now, I think we both do." Remus smoothed the hair back from Sirius’s forehead and pressed a gentle kiss there.

“Actually,” he laughed softly, “I just need you, love. I need you to get better, because I’m horrible at matching colors. You have to get better so we can go paint shopping, and furniture shopping. We could buy some picture frames. You can hang up all your pictures, and we can take some more, of the two of us- together. No more frameless photos on the dresser. No more hotel houses.”

And I hate to make this all about me But who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do If there's no you?

Remus’s phone buzzed from his coat hanging by the door, but he couldn’t be bothered to check. He felt bad- it was probably one of the boys, James, maybe, checking up on Sirius, checking up on him. Half of his brain was yelling at him that Sirius didn’t belong to him, Sirius wasn’t just his. They cared about him too, they just wanted to know how he was doing, they just wanted to show their love for their captain.

He didn’t pick up his phone.

Remus tucked his knees against his chest, laying an arm and his head on top, the other hand still holding Sirius’s.

“What am I supposed to do, Pads?” He fought back the tears in his throat and wiped his eyes. “What am I supposed to do?”

This won't go back to normal, if it ever was It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because 'Cause I have to

He’ll be fine, Remus told himself over and over and over. He’ll be fine. He was fine last time-

A small voice in the back of his head interrupted. But last time wasn’t this bad-

Shut up. He’ll be fine. This time isn’t that bad either-

That’s a lie and you know it.

He was fine last time, so he’ll be fine now. He has to be. He’s going to be okay.

Ooh-ah, you'll get better Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon

Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon 'Cause you have to

Remus had finally convinced the main nurse, Ana, to let him get into the bed with Sirius, as long as he promised not to touch any wires and not to move him.

He laid his head on Sirius’s shoulder, running his fingers through his dark hair. His lower lip trembled, and he bit down to try to stop crying. It didn’t work.

“You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay, you’ll be all better soon, you’ll be alright...”

The words tumbled out of his mouth almost as fast as the tears falling into Sirius’s hair, but he couldn’t seem to stop mumbling them under his breath. Maybe this was his new superstition. His way to keep his good luck charm.

As Remus drifted off to sleep, the only thing he dreamt of was the boy next to him, happy, awake, laughing and holding Remus’s hand as they watched the sunrise from Sirius’s balcony. Better.

~~~~~~~~~~

:) nope :) I didn’t make myself cry :) Whatever do you mean :)

P.S. I’m starting my sw x folklore series! One anon said Logan as betty (YES) and if you have any requests just send them to me (asks, messages, idrc) and I’ll see if I already have that song for someone :) xo

#lumosinlove #coops #cap and loops #sweater weather #not me crying #i need to go the fuck to bed #soon you'll get better #taylor swift #this is what happens #when i listen to sad music at 4 am #someone make me sleep #not me listening to this song on repeat for an hour

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ohana · 4 years

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When you looked me in the eyes, you finally made me recognize (Cobra Kai Secret Santa)

I'm probably ten thousand hours early because I'm on the wrong continent but still.

Here is my entry for the Cobra Kai Secret Santa hosted by @cobrakaisecretsanta (thank you thank you thank you) for @trashmouth-writes

The request from trashmouth-writes was "Definitely anything with pouty johnny with super lovey dovey Daniel" And it seemed nice to write something Christmas and a bit silly. I hope you like it (if you don't like it, please lie to me)

Summary

"Anyway, yes the advent calendar. I think it's a scam or a trap. Someone is trying to fuck with me."

"Giving you gifts?" When LaRusso's voice rises an octave he seems to be still sixteen.

"Johnny, have you ever thought that maybe someone is simply giving you gifts? Like to make you happy?"

In which Johnny starts to receive an advent calendar from a mysterious admirer.

Lawrusso, of course.

On AO3 too, here.

When you looked me in the eyes, you finally made me recognize

He remembers his first Christmas with Ali. The party, the people, Ali's red dress that she hated but her grandmother wanted her wear (she was beautiful and he hadn't even told her). His mother's laugh and how she kissed his cheek and said that they were such a beautiful couple. Sid saying "You are doing good, kid", maybe for the first time of their life together as family, and "Merry Christmas."

He doesn't remember Robby's first Christmas. He wasn't there. Shannon has sent him a Christmas card, a photo of her and Robby smiling together with some silly hats and "prick" scribbled over the big tree.

He wonders if Robby remembers the Christmas when he was there or it was too late.

He never thinks about the Christmas after the All Valley Tournament. He dreams about it sometimes. Kreese's hands on his neck, LaRusso's face disfigured with pain after Johnny hit him in the leg, the trophy, Bobby's phone calls that he kept not answering and all the "Johnny, open the door" of his mother, the Christmas eve at the beach alone.

It's not that he hates Christmas. He just doesn't care about it.

He doesn't buy chocolate. Damn most of the time he even forgets to buy real food, let alone chocolate (less often than in the past, to be honest. Maybe because Robby sleeps at his house a couple of nights a week, maybe because he's getting old and he can't live only drinking beers, maybe because LaRusso sends him stupid text from the supermarket reminding him to buy green stuff as if they were in a comedy from the 1950s). Anyway. He doesn't buy chocolate that is the main reason why now he's been sitting in his office at Cobra Kai in front of a bag of chocolates for half an hour without knowing what to do. He lifts them up, studies them a bit as if he suddenly could tell if they are poisoned. He googles them too, because now he's the kind of nerd who uses the internet. He writes "scams chocolates" but finds nothing.

He hears a key in the lock and footsteps.

"Diaz!"

Miguel overlooks at the door. His footsteps are still uncertain every now and then but in the last year he has made so much progress that if Johnny celebrated his thanksgiving day his first thank you would be for that kid.

"Yes, Sensei?"

Johnny points to the chocolates.

"Are these yours?"

Diaz looks puzzled. "Er ... no?"

"No, are you sure?" He says. Like a good teacher, like someone ready to listen to his students and not yell at them. "You can tell me."

Diaz looks even more puzzled. "Still no, sorry." He thinks for a second "Why should I have put some chocolates in your office?"

"What the fuck do I know? Why should I put them here?"

"Because it's your office?"

Johnny shrugs. "They're not mine."

Miguel walks over to him and checks the desk as if he were a fucking detective. "Was there nothing attached? No note? A receipt? Nothing?"

"Of course there was nothing attached, Mr. Diaz! I would have noticed it!" he says waving the bag that in that exact moment drops a small piece of paper. They both watch it as it gently flutters across the desk and if someone walks in at that moment and sees them he will immediately think they are father and son. Which is the truth even if it isn't.

"It's a one!" Miguel screams as if he has solved the mystery.

"I know dummy, I can read. Why is there a piece of paper with a one written on it?"

"Oh." He says, sadly "I don't know."

They stare at the chocolates and the paper for a few seconds.

Miguel takes the bag in his hand. "They look good, fancy. Not something you'll find at the store, mh?"

"How long is it until the next lesson, Diaz?" He asks him.

"At least half an hour."

"Do you want a chocolate?"

The next day in front of Cobra Kai's door there is a bottle of rum with a bow, a number two written on a card and a pretentious brochure explaining how to pair chocolate with rum. He looks around and when he doesn't see anyone that could reclaim it he takes it in his office and then at home. He doesn't have any chocolate left because the self restrain is not his best attribute but the rum tastes quite good anyway. He is freezing and it makes him feel warm.

He talks about it with LaRusso the next saturday. Until that day he received an Anthrax t-shirt and a pack of artisanal mini pizzas.

"Are you sure they're for you? Maybe someone got the wrong address and you're stealing some Christmas presents!" LaRusso suddenly comes alive and starts hopping like he always does when he's excited about something (it's not that he really hops, he just moves faster. Not that Johnny pays any attention to it. Because he doesn't.) "Maybe you're the Grinch of a family that lives near Cobra kai! "

"LaRusso the chocolates were inside my office, a bit too much for a wrong address don't you think?" and then "Who the fuck is the Grinch?"

From LaRusso's scandalized expression, this is not the right thing to say. What a surprise.

"Okay, no wrong addresses. Did you ask Robby? Maybe he ordered them on amazon?"

"Hey we don't do these things in our house, that dark web shit."

"What?!"

"Anyway, why are we here?" They are walking through home improvement stores. Near them only mothers with children, families, people who laugh and joke and talk and Johnny hates them all.

"You know why we are here. We are here because, as I wrote you, I have to buy a Christmas tree." (and I didn't want to go alone, he is about to say. But he doesn't say that. And I wanted to go with you, he thinks. But he doesn't say that either.)

"And you didn't go with Amanda ... why?"

"Because you don't go with your ex-wife to buy a Christmas tree for your new bachelor flat. We're not that civilized."

"I don't understand why you need a Christmas tree anyway." Daniel shows him a tree topper full of ribbons and ruffles and things that shouldn't be in any straight person's apartment. Or in general. "Put that thing down or am I going to have to kick you."

"Mh, and who knows how it would end ..." but he is smiling and there is a tone of complicity in his voice. "I don't want Sam and Anthony to come to my house for the holidays and see a bachelor loft, I want them to see a tree and some presents and decorations. They're already going through divorce and everything, I want at least my home to be normal, cozy." Then a sigh. "Besides, I like Christmas."

"Why? Christmas is just people who don't like each other together and presents that you'll not like."

Daniel bursts out laughing and throws a punch at him. Johnny tries to see nothing in that gesture, in that intimacy. "Oh my god, you really are the fucking Grinch, Johnny Lawrence. I just don't know. I just like it. Maybe because I'm a father and when they were little Christmas was the most magical time of the year for the kids. I don't know...I like waiting for presents, I like lights, I like people, I like the warmth."

"Pffff. If you say so."

"How about this?" LaRusso indicates a tree, not too big, not too naked(Johnny is convinced that in reality in LaRusso hates all the minimalist things he buys, all the apartments with dove gray walls and gray furniture and just pretend because c'mon, just think about how he dressed as a kid there is nothing beige in that man).

"Looks ok." He thinks about it for a moment. "Now do you also want me to help you find some mistletoe to hang around the house or are we finally ready to go?"

"Considering that the only person who walks through the door of my house, apart from my children, is you, should I take that as a suggestion?"

And Johnny nearly risks a head-on against a Christmas tree.

LaRusso is still laughing as they walk out of the shop with bags full of Christmas baubles.

(It wasn't a suggestion, of course. Why would he suggest something like that? They don't have that kind of relationship. There would be no reason to kiss under the mistletoe. Or kissing in general. Obviously. Fuck it. He doesn't think about anything else all night. Fuck it.)

In the end it's Hawk that explains everything.

Miguel and the other students are outside Cobra Kai sharing a couple of beers that Johnny is pretty sure they shouldn't drink but since he found them at the door fuck it. They are triple malt, from a microbrewery and the cap does not even unscrew but they don't really suck.

Hawk lifts one of the bottles, looks at the number on it and then as if it were the most natural thing in the world he asks. "Sensei, did you buy yourself a craft beer advent calendar?"

"Huh?" Says Johnny.

"An advent calendar."

"Huh?" Miguel asks.

"How is it possible that the boy with the Jewish grandparents has to explain to you what an advent calendar is?" And since they don't seem to understand, he continues. "On this bottle there is the number seven, today is December 7th. Were there another six bottles of beer?"

"No." Miguel replies sadly.

"No?"

"But there were six other gifts, each with a number attached to it." Johnny corrects him.

"One a day!" Adds Miguel.

"So it's an advent calendar. One surprise a day until Christmas."

Oh.

"Except if he didn't buy it himself, some chick must have bought it for him. Not bad for an old man, Sensei!"

The kids start speculating about who might have given it to him and looking at all possible advent calendars on their smartphones.

Johnny walks away as a high-pitched voice speaks of "Merry cheesemas". When he gets home he throws the remaining beers in the garbage and turns off the television when the usual Christmas movie appears.

"I think it's a trap" He says to LaRusso the next monday.

"What?" LaRusso looks lost. He is wearing a big scarf but his nose is still a bit red and he looks, Johnny would rather die than say it out loud, cute.

"The gifts with the numbers on it."

"The Advent Calendar?"

Why everyone knows what an advent calendar is?

Johnny nods.

"Is the advent calendar a trap?"

Now Johnny seems like an idiot. Which is not. Definitely.

"These ones?"

LaRusso shakes his head as Johnny points to some plant shears. He hands him an even bigger pair.

"These are more suitable for outdoor bonsai. They won't rust if you don't dry them well after disinfecting them. They are slightly more expensive but last a lifetime." His eyes sparkle when he talks about his stupid plants. Johnny hates him a little.

"A little more expensive?" He looks at the price tag. "I could buy him a real tree with the price, not these miniature trees that you short people like."

LaRusso snorts "But Robby doesn't want a tree for Christmas." He stops for a second lost in his thoughts "If they're too expensive I can contribute, I'd love to." And even if it costs him to admit it, Johnny knows that he is sincere in this. LaRusso is an asshole, a hothead, he believes himself better than others and he can never shut up but he is generous, he really likes to do things for others. Johnny hates him a little.

"Give them to me." He takes the scissors and puts them in the basket. "Anyway, yes the advent calendar. I think it's a scam or a trap. Someone is trying to fuck with me."

"Giving you gifts?" When LaRusso's voice rises an octave he seems to be still sixteen. "Why?"

"What the fuck do I know? Why do people do things? Maybe it's one of your mortal enemies who wants to screw me. Maybe it's Terry Silver."

"We're not talking about Terry Silver." It is true. But they talked about him. One evening in that confused space of time when everything was going to hell, in which while Johnny's life, the Cobra Kai and LaRusso's marriage were falling apart, they found a way of their own to communicate. They found their own dimension.

"Maybe someone you pissed off." He replies.

"Someone that I pissed off? And why would someone I pissed off try to screw you? By giving you gifts by the way? Besides, I think you piss off enough people on your own."

"Pfff. In any case, I threw everything in the garbage. Nobody can fool me like that."

They keep walking into the plant shop.

"Johnny, have you ever thought that maybe someone is simply giving you gifts? Like to make you happy?"

That night when he gets home he takes the panettone and the Zebra bootleg out of the garbage. They are both pretty good.

On Thursday in the advent calendar, he gave up and decided to call it that, he found a small radio. It's the miniature version, with a USB port (Miguel tells him), of the Ali's one that he broke on the beach. Even the songs included are the same ones he listened to at that time. That evening when a Christmas movie is being shown on television, he waits ten minutes before changing the channel.

"I think it's Ali." He tells LaRusso when they meet up the next day for a couple of beers and some Chinese food (for Johnny, LaRusso insists on eating that awful raw fish that costs more than cooked fish and tastes like sea).

"What?"

"I think Ali made the advent calendar for me." and then because LaRusso doesn't seem to understand he tells him about the Zebra bootleg, about how most of the surprises seem to come from someone who knows him well and obviously about the radio like the one Ali had.

LaRusso doesn't seem so sure. He stretches on the sofa, where they sat to watch The Grinch because according to Daniel it was not acceptable that Johnny had never seen him, and ventures "Johnny are you talking to Ali lately?"

"Not a word for thirty-something years."

"Then why should she send you an advent calendar? She doesn't even live in the same city as us."

Johnny sighs like he's dealing with an idiot. Which is fair. "Women can never forget someone like me."

"She left you! She hated you!" and then with his annoying voice "Oh don't get distracted this scene is particularly funny!" (it isn't)

Johnny ignores him. "She probably wanted to apologize to me in some way with that radio."

"But it was you who broke it!" and then in a low voice convinced that Johnny can't hear him "My God this guy is really an asshole."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being a little jealous. The fact that she didn't send you an advent calendar doesn't mean Ali didn't care about you, she just can't forget me. Try this guy once..."

Daniel throws candy canes in his face.

"Hey ... do you want to stay over?" LaRusso asks him when the film ends. "It's quite late and I don't know how much you've been drinking."

It's not particularly late and Johnny hasn't drunk more than on a normal day of the week. LaRusso's sofa bed isn't even particularly comfortable, even though the sheets always smell good and the pancakes he makes don't really suck (and he's even stopped insisting that Johnny try some kind of tea that tastes like pureed grass). There are Christmas on the front door, which he hates. He really has no reason to stay.

Johnny fakes a yawn. He stays.

The next morning he writes a message to Ali to thank her for the advent calendar on facebook.

He writes to LaRusso "To be honest the Grinch never hated the Christmas, he hated the people, which is fair."

Ali replies "Johnny, what are you talking about? Why should I give you a gift?"

LaRusso replies "You are such an ass. Do you want to help me decorate the tree tonight? "

"Of course I don't want it. Why? Are you too short to put the baubles on it?" He texts back.

"I have beers and we can try the new pizzeria around the corner."

He replies ""Okay but if you're going to put on that ridiculous sweater with the deer and the lights again, I'll have to fight you to get it off."

"It's a reindeer not a deer, for God's sake. And you have a funny way to try to undress your dates, Lawrence."

It's a joke of course. A lame one. It's not that he really wants to see LaRusso naked. Or that LaRusso is his date. (fuck fuck fuck)

He helps LaRusso with the Christmas tree. He doesn't even hate too much.

He doesn't text back to Ali.

After three more days of surprises in the advent calendar, he confronts Carmen.

She listens to him without saying a word but then her doubtful expression melts into a smile. It's a smile that Carmen reserves only for him and in which Johnny initially saw a lot of potential. He saw going out, a lot of sex, even a little romance. Now that the months have passed, including those in which Carmen didn't even speak to him at all, he has learned to see what is really behind that smile, that sweetness: family. They will never be in love but they will always be a family in some way.

"Johnny, my love these days I don't even have time to breathe at work, let alone prepare an advent calendar for someone." And then "Have you ever thought that there is someone else besides us who wants to make you happy?"

Johnny grumbles, replies by making silly allusions to some girl he's met and stuff like that. In front of Carmen's door, he finds himself thinking for the first time in months about his mother, about the way she always took care of him.

Carmen continues talking. "I heard that Robby will probably spend Christmas with his mom. We won't be home celebrating... Do you have someone to spend Christmas with? Otherwise we can try to organize something, I'm sure Miggy would like it."

Johnny thinks of the billionth text that LaRusso sent him to remind him to pack the gift for Robby.

"I'm okay." He replies.

The next day he finds an Atari console with Popeye on it in the advent calendar and it's a trip down memory lane. He liked video games when he was a kid, when he wasn't the popular guy at school yet. He liked listening to music, playing video games and forgetting Sid's remarks, the absence of a father, the lack of friends. Before, in a world where there was no karate, Kreese and Cobra Kai to get lost in. He had almost forgotten about those years, about that Johnny. He wonders what would happen to his life if he stayed that Johnny. Would Ali have stayed? (Or even more than that: would Ali notice and date someone like that Johnny?) Would the friends of the Cobra Kai want him? Would he have been a failure as a father? Would he and Daniel become friends? (he imagines: making lesson with Mr. Miyagi, play video games together, teach him to surf and stay to chill on the beach, listening some music with only one walkman, close, with legs touching)

When on December 18th he finds a portable mini golf (like the ones you see in B-movies, in the offices of successful managers) he invites LaRusso to his apartment to play with it only because he is unable to play something without turning it into a competition , in a fight. Not because he likes to see him. Daniel goes all "Oh" and "Thanks" when he sees that Johnny has put in the fridge all he needs for a martini cocktail and opens his giant brown doe eyes and Johnny doesn't know whether to feel like a shitty person or a fifteen year old on a first date. The only thing he's sure of is that he doesn't know what to do with these feelings. If he could he would kick them, fight them back to their corner because he's not sure he knows how to ignore them now that they're out. He is so angry. With himself, with LaRusso, with that stupid advent calendar and with Christmas too.

He kicks LaRusso's butt at portable mini golf and when it starts getting late he yawns and says he'll have to get up early the next day for some commitments. He doesn't offer LaRusso another drink, he doesn't ask him if he's too tired to stay. He falls asleep on the couch alone.

He goes out two nights in a row. At the bar a woman flirts with him. She is a hot babe, the kind of woman who might not listen to what she says (and who wouldn't listen to what Johnny says) but whose boobs he would surely remember. The kind of woman to have a drink and have a fuck with without either of them looking for more. It would be so easy, he thinks.

Miguel asks "Are you not going out with Mr.LaRusso tonight?" as if he was used to doing it every Sunday, after Daniel saw his kids.

In the advent calendar he finds a small cobra (a fake one, not a real cobra because it would be scary and...deadly probably) with a headband. Seeing the band on the cobra's head doesn't make him think of Ali for the first time in thirty-five years.

Daniel texts him. "Are you all right? Have you become the Grinch?"

He doesn't reply.

On the phone, a delivery boy asks for confirmation of the address to deliver the shopping for Christmas dinner with Robby. Dinner he obviously wouldn't have ordered had it been for him.

Daniel texts him "Remember to take the food out of the fridge two hours before the dinner."

He doesn't reply.

Daniel texts him. "Asshole." (Is he? Probably. Maybe he should have texted him "coward" it suited him more.)

Strike first strike first strike first.

The thing is: Johnny isn't an idiot. Of course he is an idiot in some way, but it's not really the point. He knows with every fiber of his body that this is probably the closest thing he will get to a relationship. Even to be in love. The problem is that everything Johnny knows about love is what he lived in a two-year relationship with a girl, with which he didn't even get along very well, when he was sixteen. After that nothing, he got stuck.

And then he doesn't know what to do with these feelings, he doesn't know how to match his idea of love (that of a sixteen year old with too many hormones, always too angry and so lost) with this sense of intimacy, with this warmth. He doesn't know how to explain to the sixteen year old Johnny who came home angry and wanted to kick LaRusso's butt who maybe, maybe they could be in love with that ridiculous man in the deer sweaters who drives them crazy, makes them question all the choices of their lives and reminds them to buy tree scissors for their son and looks at them with those giant doe eyes that make their knees tremble.

Not to mention the tiny detail that that love may very well not be reciprocated because LaRusso is an idiot.

It would be so easy to strike first. Buy that girl a drink in the pub, turn off the phone, have a good fuck. It would be so easy.

Robby says "Thanks dad, they are great" when he opens the scissors. Robby chews his food and says "It tastes amazing, a lot better than when you try to cook!" And then smiles, like a kid, like a young man ready to conquer the world, to open up to the world and not as a boy with whom his parents have failed many times, who has months of juvie behind him and a lot of therapy sessions to deal with. Johnny looks at him and he's so happy and he feels so bad that he doesn't deserve it that he just wants to punch something. Or drink too many beers and fall into a coma.

"Are you okay, dad?" Robby asks.

It would be so easy.

"Have you ever thought that there is someone who wants to make you happy?"

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.

("Asshole")

LaRusso is still in his pajamas pants when he opens the door. Since he and Amanda got divorced he has let his hair grow slightly and now they are all messed up on his head and he looks silly.

"I expected you were already dressed to go to work." Says to him.

LaRusso yawns and snorts. "I expected you to respond to my messages." but then adds with a note of concern in his voice "Are you okay? Did something happen with Robby?"

Johnny waves in front of him the replica of the All Valley tournament trophy, still partially wrapped, with the number 24 sticking out among the paper.

He reads aloud "World's second best sensei. You are such an arrogant prick."

LaRusso stares at him with a smug look and says "Well it takes one to know one." and "I was referring to Mr. Miyagi, dumbass."

And now he's an asshole.

LaRusso bursts out laughing and Johnny seriously wants to beat him.

"" You ... You are impossible! You are so annoying and you do things like this and I can't stand you! ".

Daniel raises an eye brown. "It looks like you can, instead."

"And you can never shut up, you are unbearable! You get under my skin like some fungus! Nobody makes me feel like that."

Because it is true. He's not sure if he likes it but no one will ever make him feel that way. Nobody before, nobody after. In Johnny's life there will always be a before and after Daniel LaRusso. Not that he'll ever tell that prick who already thinks he's better than everyone else and definitely doesn't need someone to pump his ego even more.

"Hey, hasn't anyone ever taught you just to say thank you when someone gives you a gift?"

"No one has ever taught me a lot of things." And he thinks of Kreese.

LaRusso takes a step in his direction by invading his space and takes his hands (which are still holding the trophy so in reality the scene is more awkward than romantic).

"Yet you have learned so much anyway." He smiles at him, with a smile different from the one of the commercials, more open, more sincere. "And you're teaching a lot of right things to your students too. Under all that No Mercy bullshit you're teaching them a lot. It wasn't a joke, the trophy. I mean it."

Johnny thinks she could almost kiss him. Then he remembers one thing.

"How did you know about the Atari console? I didn't even know you when I was playing video games."

Daniel lights up, like a magician ready to reveal a trick to his audience. "That? Robby told me. Apparently you told him once when you were drunk and sad. He also told me which bootleg you were missing and helped me get some packages. I could have asked Miguel probably but Sam says he can't keep a secret to save his life and I didn't want to risk him revealing my identity. Of course I couldn't think you thought of Ali first than me. He laughs, his eyes shine. "Anyway I could have asked a lot of people. You may not know but there are a lot of people who care about you and would like to make you happy. When you are not busy being an asshole or pushing others away because you are scared it's very easy to care for you, Johnny Lawrence. "

"Have you ever thought that there is someone who wants to make you happy?"

Johnny pins him against the front door and kisses him and for a moment LaRusso freezes and doesn't reciprocate and Johnny thinks he shall punch him because there is no possibility that he has misread this situation. Then Daniel melts into the kiss and kisses him back and it's the opposite of what he imagined when he was sixteen. It's not a battle, it's meeting halfway. It's not a fight, it's peace, it's like coming home and finding a new home at the same time.

Daniel starts laughing in the kiss and Johnny is forced to pull back slightly before he can suffocate and die which wouldn't be a very bright way to start this phase of his life.

"What now?"

LaRusso smiles as if he has discovered some secret and murmurs on his neck "You didn't need the mistletoe at the end."

Johnny sighs because he is an idiot and then kisses him again. He feels giddy, happy.

Daniel budges away from him, without breaking the embrace.

"You know, under these pajamas pants I have some Christmas boxers with a reindeer." He raises an eyebrow "I'm telling you because maybe, maybe you still want to fight me to make me take them off like you did with the sweater."

"Has this atrocious line ever worked with anyone?"

"I don't know, is it working?"

Johnny opens the door "Let's go inside."

#cksecretsanta2020 #lawrusso #cobra kai #daniel larusso #johnny lawrence #cobra kai secret santa

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l0chn3ss · 4 years

Text

do you remember that day, you were so beautiful

Written for @se-rarepair-day September 2020 Prompt: Roadtrip

Maka x Black Star; MaStar: Before coming to terms with their feelings, and before embarking on the road trip that took them all across Nevada, Maka and Black Star take their friendship to high school prom. AO3 | FFNET

Companion Fic to dust the cracks in my heart with stardust, make me anew; Reverb 2017

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

During their junior year of high school, Maka and Black Star were caught up in the hype surrounding prom, of course. There were rules to these sorts of things.

Choose your crush to be your partner, go outfit scouting three months ahead of time, plan your king and queen campaign, prepare matching corsages, group-rent a party bus, get the pre-prom party ready, and above all, make sure you ask them out in the most public and romantic way possible.

Maka and Black Star followed all of these rules, just not with each other. Instead, they convened to share ideas and made sure they were doing steps in order. Maka brainstormed obnoxious ideas on ‘how to ask a girl to prom’ on YouTube for him while Black Star fed hints and nudged her prospective partner to do exactly what she wanted in return. They went to Macy’s to get their outfits at the same time; Maka picked out her top five dresses to show her friends while Star had everything except for his vest and tie. Finally, they carpooled to the pre-prom party in Sid’s mini van with flowers in their lap and nerves scattered throughout. Not once did it occur to them that they should’ve just gone with each other until they were both abandoned on the dance floor, finding that the people they’d gone with were boring beyond boring.

Senior year was different. About seven weeks before the night in question, Maka was at Black Star’s desk while he was lounging on his bed. It was a school night, but Maka didn’t want to be home. Instead, she went to her second home and kicked Black Star off his chair and onto his sheets. He went without much protest, already used to the routine. The only thing was that his seat was warm— his bed was not.

She snorted at him, saying that it was more comfortable on his bed anyways. Star, in turn, grumbled about how his bed made him tired and how the living room sofa was occupied. They settled into their new places for the rest of the evening, each with their own tasks in mind.

It was only forty minutes later that Maka checked her Google Calendar and saw the marked event approaching. She turned to Black Star suddenly, who was distracted on his phone reading fanfiction, and said easily, “Wanna go to prom together?”

“When’sza again?”

“The Saturday after we have dinner with your dad’s cousin.”

“Oh, yeah.” He finished his paragraph before finally giving Maka his attention. “Sure. What color do you want?”

Maka balanced herself on just two legs of Star’s chair. She leaned back and looked to his ceiling, thinking. “Purple looks terrible on you. And I really don’t want to repeat colors from last year.”

He nodded. “No yellow or… whatever color you chose again.”

“It was feldgrau.”

“Yeah, that… Gods, just call it green like normal people.”

Maka planted the chair back on all fours again. “It wasn’t green, and it wasn’t gray. It was feldgrau.”

“Whatever, Maks.”

“Good point, though. Green is still on the board.”

“Nope! That’s been your color since kid-you rolled in that freshly cut grass. You got it all in your hair and clothes.” Black Star wasn’t budging. “I’d be at a disadvantage.”

Maka shot him a look, but chose to not pursue his anecdote. “Well, you just dyed your hair. So we definitely can’t do red. Orange would be worse. That pretty much leaves blue, which matches you more than me, too.”

“Come on, blue is best!”

“Absolutely not. I’d rather have green.”

“Blue.”

“Green!”

They stared down at each other until a giggle escaped one of them, then the other in quick succession. They solved their color issue the same way as they did as kids— with a sigh and a laugh.

“Teal it is then.”

“The one that’s more blue right?”

“Absolutely not, Star.”

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

The day came quickly, especially since they weren’t at all focused on preparing for it. After getting past the hurdle of settling on the right shade of teal, the rest of their tasks came easily. Maka still had her contacts from arranging flowers for her community service events, and Star had recently gotten a new Jeep from a second-hand seller about two cities over. Pictures would be taken in Aunt Mira’s backyard, and it would’ve been overkill if they won homecoming and prom king and queen in the same school year. There was no need to run again.

As for the tie, vest, and dress set, the color that they chose was perfectly equal. It was neither too green or too blue; the both of them made sure of that. They met exactly in the middle after a couple of hours in a Joann’s Fabrics, and they took a cut of the shade to go buy their outfits separately.

Black Star’s extended aunt adjusted his tie for him on prom night. She had her camera wrapped around her cousin Sid’s neck to hold for safekeeping since it would’ve gotten lost on a table or some random counter otherwise.

Aunt Mira wasted no opportunities to scold her nephew. “You’re late, boy.”

Star had to counter, “Maka is, too.”

“Aye, but she’s also been here for two hours to get ready upstairs,” Aunt Mira said, pulling down Star’s vest and straightening out the front. “You, on the other hand, had instructions to arrive at eighteen hundred hours.”

That was 6 o’clock for military talk.

“Yes, ma’am,” Black Star said, still pouting slightly.

After giving him a final pat, Aunt Mira had Star pose in various areas around the house, snapping a photo or nine at each place. She claimed that she didn’t want to take too many without Maka there, especially since Maka was still learning about the exposure and shutter speed settings on a manual camera. It was just easier to show rather than tell.

Sid helped enough by clearing parts of the room where Aunt Mira’s crafting projects were dispersed in strange places. He also went into the backyard for a moment to check for the lighting and weather for their couples shots. He took the chance to call Spirit and assured him at length since Maka hadn’t allowed him to stay past her initial drop-off. All was prepared.

Just five minutes later, Maka finally emerged, stepping onto the landing and then following the railing down the stairs. Catching on Aunt Mira’s chandelier lights, her gold-teal eyeshadow shone and her cheeks glowed a pretty pink. She wore a sleeveless sweetheart bodice that hugged her torso closely, cutting off at her midriff. It was then that he understood what she meant by a two-piece dress. Her skirt started not far from where the top was; it went from high to low— thigh short in the front and floor length long in the back— and framed her legs beautifully. Golden embellishments swirled throughout, matching her make up choice well, mesmerizing.

He was caught in between moments where nothing made sense, and yet everything felt right. The room fell away with her every step, shattering the background behind her as she got closer to him. It was like seeing her for the first time— a new girl with a familiar name. Maka became the only one left in his eyes.

Still at the top of the stairs, Maka went slowly, adjusting her left earring while making sure her feet went one after the other. She wasn’t poised or ready— fuck, she wasn’t trying to be beautiful or heartstopping. She just was.

However, Maka made a small grunt while she held onto the railings. Black Star remembered how heavily she complained about going down the stairs in heels last year, so he went up to meet her half way and extended a hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Black Star teased once she reached him.

“Stop it,” she said, lightly smacking his arm before taking his offering to brace herself.

As they walked down together, Star couldn’t take his eyes off her. It was only when they reached the bottom that Maka let go and broke the spell. He felt a part of him leaving as she did, even though she wasn’t going anywhere far. She was only going to the refrigerator to get their corsage and boutonnière.

Left alone with his dad and aunt, he finally realized that they were being watched with knowing looks. “What?” He glared at them heavily, hoping to hide whatever they saw on his face.

Sid seemed to cover a laugh with a cough while Aunt Mira fiddled with her camera. She muttered, “Got some good shots from that,” which caused her nephew to ‘tch’ loudly. He turned away from them, faced towards the wall to hide how pink his face had turned from her comment.

When Maka returned, she set the flowers down on the coffee table and looked to Sid first. “What do you think?” She twirled on her heel and the train of her skirt spread far.

Sid nodded. “Your papa would be pleased.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Maka snickered.

“He wouldn’t at all,” Sid agreed.

“You look lovely, Maka.” Aunt Mira made sure to give the validation that any girl would’ve wanted. “I’m surprised you got into it on your own.”

“Well, I had trouble with getting the back zipper, which is why I’m so late.”

Aunt Mira hummed. “Boy, go check to make sure it’s on properly.”

Before Black Star could begin to protest, Maka had already turned around and brushed her curled hair to the front. She said, “I think I got it up all the way, but it’s hard to reach.”

He approached her carefully, swallowing a lump in his throat and blinking away his disbelief. He looked just for a moment to see that the zipper was about an inch and a half from closing, and he finished it for her quickly, blushing the entire way there.

“There,” Star said, coughing into his hand like Sid would. “You almost got it.”

Maka looked over her shoulder, surprising him once again. Her disarming smile and appreciation only made her look more foreign— but not in a bad way. He may have followed her anywhere then.

“Thanks.”

“‘Is whatever.”

She laughed openly at his awkwardness while he got the corsage. It was made of three white roses and baby’s breath, all tied together with a teal ribbon in the center. He heard Maka reminding him of something familiar.

“Corsage on the pulse; boutonnière over the heart.”

It was his turn to laugh. “I know, I know.”

Maka was embarrassed that he heard her at all. “I’m just saying!”

He pulled the elastic over her left wrist and gave it a snap. “Yeah, sure.”

“Careful, Star. I’ll prick you with the pin.”

“This jacket is hell— I mean, hecka thick.” Star briefly glanced over to his aunt to check if she caught him cursing. If she did, she didn’t show it. “You can’t pass the pin through.”

Maka grumbled, grabbing him by his lapel roughly and tugging him to her, making him yelp. “Hold still.”

With her so close to his chest, he caught her scent mixed in with a new Bath and Body Works spray. It was subtle, but starkly different than her usual smell. The vanilla tickled at his nose, and somehow, it made him more embarrassed to be by her than ever. He was acting ridiculous— they were just going as friends.

As much as Maka was a perfectionist, she once again couldn’t get the boutonnière to sit on straight. Star had to roll his eyes and assist her, bumping hands every so often as they struggled to pin the stem correctly. They were distracted because of a couple of clicks from the camera, but eventually, they managed to get the flowers to sit securely with the help of an extra pin.

Sighing, Maka took him by the hand— as if she needed to convince him to come with her. “Let’s get pictures before the sun sets now. Then, it’s off to prom!”

“I’m still driving, right?” He asked stupidly, as if there were another answer. “I mean— never mind. We’re definitely getting Taco Bell after we leave.”

She squeezed him more tightly. “We will, I promise.”

The rest of their night went without a hitch. They took their miniature road trip down to the venue and took note of the late night diners on the way there. At the event, Star pulled out a can of Coca Cola to share while Maka complained about how warm it was from being in his pocket. Luckily, she realized how badly it must’ve been shaken and she went to exchange it at the free soda bar instead. It would be someone else’s problem. Later on, Maka slid their photo booth pictures into her clutch while Star went to request her favorite song to the DJ. Most importantly, there were no hidden agendas or boring partners to entertain, only each other.

Just thirty minutes before prom ended, Maka held onto Star’s jacket while he took a pee break down the hall. They planned to make their escape before the King and Queen were announced, but their sudden victory shocked no one except themselves. Her new tiara was balanced on her head while Star’s crown was looped around his bicep, especially since it kept falling off while they were dancing.

Once he got back, they snuck past the supervisors and successfully climbed into Star’s Jeep. There were burgers and milkshakes just ten minutes down the road and a lifetime of adventures still waiting for them.

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

There’s something different about tonight... He barely recognizes he’s been thinking about her and what he wants from their relationship for so long until Maka emerges from the shower in her random shorts and tee, toweling her hair. The thought strikes him harshly that she looks just as good to him at this moment as she did when he saw her dressed up for their high school prom.

That’s it. She’s it for him.

If this blows up in his face, he has no idea what he’ll do.

“Don’t— don’t make this weird.” He nearly falls off the edge of the bed at her voice, not expecting her to speak.

“Weird? What’s weird?”

“I don’t know, Star… Just stop looking at me like you’ve never seen me before,” she murmurs, glancing at him as she hangs the towel over the back of a chair. “You have that face on like when you run into someone from high school you don’t remember.”

— From Day 9: the interval between reach and grasp; dust the cracks in my heart with stardust, make me anew ; Reverb 2017 By @happyisahabit

#mastar #makaxblackstar #soul eater #serarepairdays #nessie spills #makaxstar #maka and blackstar #roadtrippin #roadtrippin au #liz u the illest

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