#something's up with the radio station at work it's been playing the same seven songs over and over again for days

[yours-the-author]

I went to work this morning and the radio played "All I Want for Christmas is You" twice in a row. So. That was a start to my morning.

[wolf-star-chaser12]

Radio Nights

| tw: panic attacks. pairings: jegulus. fluff, pure fluff word count: 3086 |

It was him again, that same boy. He kept calling the station over and over. Regulus should’ve been sick of it, but the boy kept him company unknowingly. 

Regulus ran the local radio station during the night hours because his body physically refused to be up from seven to five during the day. It worked out quite well— he got to choose the music and rarely got complaints because no one listened to his station when he was running it. He was able to complete his online classes easily and was set to graduate a year early, even with two majors. The job paid quite well and he lived two buildings down. It was perfect.

The only downside was that he rarely got to talk with his brother, Sirius. Regulus was a being of the night and his brother was a deranged creature who got up before Regulus went to bed— which varied from five to six.

Regulus figured his music suited the hours of the night perfectly. There was nothing upbeat, no loud music, it was all mellow and overall quiet. But this boy who kept calling their station, always said Mamma Mia was perfect for 2 A.M.. Regulus vehemently disagreed and refused to put on any ABBA songs. He should be worried about upsetting their listeners, but he didn’t care, and it seemed neither did the other boy. 

“Please?” the boy asked, for the third night in a row.

“No. Why are you even up anyway?” Regulus asked.

“It’s a perfectly reasonable time to be up.”

“It’s two A.M.” he deadpaned.

“Is it really? Huh. Well, that makes sense, usually the music is so much different when I’m home.”

“Do you have a problem with my music?”

“No! Your music is perfectly fine, I just wish I had something upbeat to listen to this early in the morning. It’ll help keep me awake.”

Regulus was intrigued, was this boy out of town? It made sense if he was currently in a different time zone. After all, why would anyone who wasn’t a local listen to his station?

“What time is it for you?”

“Six. I’m only four hours ahead.”

Regulus really shouldn’t let the call go on for this long. It was meant for requests, not conversations. “This seems like a you problem. If you want different music, change the station.”

He hung up before the boy could protest. Regulus thought it odd that this boy only started making requests when he was supposedly out of town. Sirius was also out of town, but it was only a coincidence. The only time he could ever really have a conversation with his brother was when whatever time zone he was in lined up with Regulus’ hours. The rest of his night went smoothly, but he got no more calls, he felt a bit disappointed but didn't know why.

The next night, the boy called the station number again. Sighing, Regulus picked up the phone.

“What do you want this time?”

“Is this how you greet all of your listeners?”

“Only you, because you can’t take no for an answer.”

“But please. It’s just one song.”

“No. People are used to my music at this time and they would be confused if I suddenly put on a random ABBA song.”

“No one needs to know.”

“I’ll know.”

The boy sighs. “I guess I’ll stop asking for ABBA then.”

Regulus felt both relieved and disappointed. 

“Can you put on Bohemian Rapsody?”

Regulus groaned. It was one of Sirius’ favourite songs.

“It’s not for me it’s for my mate, he’s driving so he can’t ask.”

Regulus thought for a moment, he didn’t hate the song, but it would also be funny to let his friend choose whatever he liked.

Smirking, Regulus said, “Okay, only because your friend asked.”

He hung up as the boy squawked in outrage and lined up Bohemian Rapsody to play next. A few hours later, Regulus got a text from Sirius. 

‘thanks for playing my song :P’

Wait what?

‘What are you talking about?’

‘you actually played it on the radio’

‘What were doing up so early?’

‘seven a.m. is more than reasonable’

Regulus scoffed. ‘Whatever you say.’

Regulus began to suspect something was up. Was it possible this boy and Sirius knew each other? Or maybe Sirius just happened to be listening to the radio at the same time. It was possible, but it was also possible for him and Sirius to somehow know each other. Unlikely.

Sirius was away playing pro rugby somewhere Regulus didn’t care to know. He was supposed to have finished the game yesterday, meaning he would be on his way back soon. Regulus missed his brother, even when he was here. They had a strange relationship but since they both ran away as kids, they’ve been working on it. Regulus has become dependent on Sirius again, but he rarely sees him because of his nocturnal schedule. Their family dinners were actually breakfast for Regulus. It sucked sometimes, but on the rare occasion he got up earlier or Sirius stayed up later, they would have fun. 

Regulus never got to meet any of his friends, and Sirius never got to meet his. Barty and Evan worked in a tattoo shop a few blocks down, they were open from ten to five, at night. Pandora was up at night because it was how she preferred it. She did astrology and astronomy things that Regulus had never quite understood. She came by sometimes unannounced, but she always showed up for their near-daily “lunch.” Dorcas… it varied from time to time. Her sleep schedule was the most fucked up of them all. She was a freelance designer, free to do whatever she liked, whenever she liked. She tried to split her schedule between their friend group and her girlfriend, Marlene. Marlene was one of the only friends of Sirius that he’s met— Remus didn’t count since he was Regulus’ friend too, not to mention Sirius’ boyfriend.

Speak of the devil.

‘Why is Sirius grinning evilly?’

‘I played Bohemian Rapsody and now he probably thinks I’ll play more Queen songs.’

‘That was a mistake.’

‘Why did you do it in the first place?’

‘Remember that boy I told you about?’

‘The one who keeps calling about ABBA?’

‘Vaguely, yes.’

‘Well…’

‘He asked for ABBA and I obviously refused. Then he said his mate was asking to play Bohemian Rapsody.’

‘I played it just to make him mad.’

‘That was mean.’

‘Do it again.’

Regulus chuckled. He didn’t know if the boy would call again. He didn’t particularly care. Or at least that’s what he was trying to tell himself. No one made song requests except for the rare caller who needed something stupidly depressing. The boy was a nice change. He never did get his name. 

The next night, he didn’t get a call until five. 

“Heyyyyyy, radio boy.”

“I’m not playing ABBA.”

Regulus could practically hear his pout. “I wasn’t going to ask.”

“Then why’d you call?”

“I like you,” he slurred.

“You’re pissed.” Regulus pinched his nose, he didn’t want to deal with this.

“Maybe. But it’s well deserved!”

“Tell yourself that in the morning when you wake up with a hangover.”

“You’re so mean. I like it.”

“There’s something wrong with you.”

“Maybe.”

Regulus couldn’t wait anymore. “What’s your name?”

“No, no. Remember? You said we couldn’t say our names to maintain privacy. So, according to you, we will not say anything unless we happen to see each other in person.”

Regulus scowled, how could he forget that? “Good night.”

“Wait no!”

“Yes?”

“One song?”

“Depends.”

“Your favourite one.”

What? No one’s asked him that before. “Why?”

“They say someone’s music taste says a lot about their character.”

“And you haven’t been listening to my music this entire time?”

“I have. But I want to know your favourite.”

Sighing, Regulus queues up his favourite— To Build A Home. He only has to wait a minute before the first notes play, the boy is still connected. 

“This is, I. This is one of my favourites.”

His heart does a funny little jump. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He sounds breathless. 

“I um, I know how to play it. On piano I mean.”

Silence.

“Regulus.”

“What?”

“My name.”

“Oh. What a lovely name. Regulus. Perfect name for a star.”

Regulus blushes furiously. 

“James.”

“James. It suits you.”

More silence. “James?”

“Hmm?” 

“Goodnight, James.”

“Goodnight. Regulus.”

He hung up after it became obvious James had fallen asleep. Regulus hadn’t stopped smiling softly since he found out James’ name. He was in too deep.

—

The next night, there was no call. Nor the one after that, or for the next few nights. Regulus was sad, but he was also mad at himself for possibly having fallen in love with a stranger who called a few times. For the next two weeks, Evan would have to maintain the station with Pandora because Regulus would have to adjust to a normal schedule for a few days and then return to his nightly schedule.

He had to do a stupid dissertation for his final project, which meant presenting to an audience during the day. He needed a few days to prepare himself because it was a two-day event. Then after that, he would be spending time with Sirius before adjusting back to his regular schedule.

Sirius was thrilled at the news. He’d invited Regulus for a family/friend dinner with his so-called adoptive parents, Effie and Monty. It had been a few months since he last saw them, and that was during Sirius’ birthday. All his friends would be there because they were like family. Regulus knew he would only be hanging out with Sirius, Remus and Dorcas for most of the time. Not really Sirius, however, because he would be talking to everyone. Remus and Dorcas would stay close by. 

Sirius’ best friend James would be there too. They had never met— it seemed like any time Regulus was with Sirius and sometimes his parents, James was never there. Regulus couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that maybe Sirius’ James was his James. But he was never this lucky so he quickly dropped the idea.

Pandora told Regulus she would notify him if James called again, but he never did. His presentation went by smoothly, but he still felt disappointed. Why did James stop calling?

He didn’t have time to worry about the boy right now, he was getting ready for the stupid dinner. 

“You should wear that sweater.”

Regulus whirled around. “Do you want me to look like an idiot?”

Sirius groaned. “Why did you ask for my help when you turned down every option I suggested?”

“Because they’re your friends.”

Sirius was lying on Regulus’ bed, being entirely unhelpful, but he had an idea. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Remus. 

‘I’m going to Facetime you, and you’re going to pick up saying “Hey babe.”’

‘Umm okay… why?’

‘You’ll see.’

Smirking, he called Remus, and to his credit, he did as Regulus said. 

“Hey babe.”

Sirius perked up at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice and then processed what he said. Sirius gave an undignified squawk as he nearly fell on his face. 

“Moony why are you calling my brother babe?!”

Remus’ eyes widened before he burst out laughing. 

“Not funny,” Sirius pouted. 

“It is,” Regulus and Remus said together.

“Reg, why’d you call?”

“The idiot is being unhelpful. I need something to wear.”

“You know no one will care what you look like, right?”

Regulus gave him a blank stare.

“Ugh, alright. The green cardigan with the white cuffs and trim, a white turtleneck and those black trousers. You know which ones.”

“Great, thank you.”

“Alright see you later. Bye.”

“Wait!” Sirius yelled. “Let me talk to him.”

“No.” Regulus ended the call and went to change while Sirius whined like a lost puppy. Honestly, he was so pathetic sometimes.

Regulus put on the clothes Remus had suggested— he did look good in them. Remus had a good eye, even if his style was different than Regulus’. He wanted to make a good impression, even if he seemed like he didn’t care.

They got to the Potter’s house early so Regulus could settle in before everyone else arrived. Dorcas’ and Marlene’s car was the only one pulled onto the drive. Regulus had barely stepped inside the house before Dorcas practically tackled him.

“Reg!”

“Cas…” he warned.

“Oh come off it, you like when I hug you.”

He grumbled. Dorcas looked nice— she seemed to look much healthier than the last time Regulus saw her. She had been extremely sleep-deprived and was fighting off a cold, causing her to look like a wraith. Now, she looked like her normal self. Behind her, he spotted Marlene looking at him upside down, with her head tilted back over the arm of the chair.

“Regulusssss,” she said, giving him a maniacal grin.

He waved tentatively, that smile never meant anything good. “What do you want?”

“Can’t I just say hi?”

“With you? No.”

Dorcas rolled her eyes at their antics and pulled Regulus by the arm, leading him to the kitchen where Effie was. She turned around at the sound of them entering. 

Smiling, Effie went up to hug Regulus. “How are you? It’s been too long.”

Regulus kissed her cheek. “I’m doing good. What are you making?”

“A little bit of everyone’s favourite.”

“Can I help?”

Effie smiled, “Of course.” She looked towards Dorcas, “Make sure Sirius and James don’t come into the kitchen— they’re banned.”

The three of them talked as Effie and Regulus made dinner. It was nice, maybe Regulus had nothing to worry about. When he finished doing all he could, Regulus went out to set the table. Nearly done, the door opened as Sirius burst in, yelling nonsense with several people following him inside.

“You twat, I could beat you any day.”

Regulus froze, there was no way. That voice, it was him. It couldn’t be, and yet… He turned around seeing everyone in the living room. Remus was there, trying to calm down Sirius just as Marlene was hyping him up. Sirius trailed off whatever he was saying when he made eye contact with Regulus.

He ran up to him, “Why do you look petrified?”

Regulus looked back to James, his James.

Oblivious to his struggles, Sirius called out to everyone and pushed Regulus forward to meet everyone. Everyone crowded around him, trying to introduce themselves. Thankfully, Effie chose that moment to leave the kitchen. 

“Give him space.”

Regulus was breathing too quickly. He needed to leave. It was too much, he needed to leave. Why couldn’t he breathe? Distracted by Effie’s scolding, he slipped past everyone into the hallway.

He should have known he’d have this reaction. Regulus had always had anxiety and panic attacks, and so did Sirius— it was a result of their unfortunate upbringing. Pandora and Dorcas always helped him out of the attacks, but neither was here. Where was Dorcas?

“What’s wrong?” 

It was James. Why did he have to be here, to meet him while he was breaking down? It’s not how they were supposed to meet. Regulus wanted to meet James differently, but he never got what he wanted, did he?

“Hey, can you follow my breathing?” James was kneeling in front of him. When did he end up on the floor?

Regulus tried, his hand was against James’s chest which was rising steadily and slowly. 

“That’s it, just take deep breaths.”

Regulus looked up and was instantly taken aback by James' beauty. He’d seen pictures of him, but they were nothing compared to the sight before him. His eyes were a striking colour— more green than hazel. When James smiled tentatively, it revealed a small gap between his front teeth. He was beautiful.

“Are you feeling better now?” James asked.

“I- um.” Why couldn’t Regulus speak? He’d spoken to James a dozen times before.

“You’re Sirius’s brother aren’t you?”

Regulus nodded.

“He used to get panic attacks all the time, he still gets them once in a while.”

Regulus still stared. 

James chuckled nervously. “Umm, my name’s James.”

“I know.”

“What?” James’s brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus covered his face in mortification. 

“Don’t apologise, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

Did James not recognise his voice?

“No, I’m sorry we had to meet like this. I didn’t want you to ever see me like this.”

“What do you… oh.” James's eyes widened as he stared at Regulus with reverence. “Regulus.”

“James.”

“It’s really you,” he said breathlessly. “I knew Sirius’s brother was named Regulus, but I didn’t think you two could possibly be the same.”

“Just how many people do you know by the name Regulus?”

“So mean.”

“You like it though,” Regulus smiled.

“Yes, yes I do. I like you too.”

Regulus felt butterflies erupt. 

James’s eyes dropped down to his mouth. Shyly, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Regulus gave a minute nod.

James leaned forward, capturing Regulus in the softest kiss. They kissed slowly, softly, unhurried. They had all the time in the world. But they ran out of breath and pulled back, breathing heavily. 

“Regulus?” It was Dorcas.

Regulus looked at James and to his horror, started giggling. James also started laughing before the both of them were interrupted by Dorcas.

“Oh there you are, I see you’ve met James.”

They shared a glance, which caused Dorcas to narrow her eyes in suspicion. 

“He was helping me,” Regulus said.

“With what exactly?”

“Reggie had a panic attack,” James said.

Dorcas’s eyes softened. “Are you okay now?”

Regulus nodded.

“Good, you two better head back, I delayed Sirius for long enough.” 

Dorcas left the hall, heading back into the dining room. Regulus thought more about her words. 

“Oh no.”

“What?” James asked.

“What are we going to tell Sirius?”

James thought for a moment. He looked cute when he was confused, Regulus thought.

“James?”

“Yeah?”

“What are we?”

They looked at each other, holding their breaths. 

“Maybe, could you— would you want to be my boyfriend, Regulus?”

Regulus grinned, butterflies fluttering wildly inside him. 

“Yes, I would like that very much.”

James leaned down to kiss Regulus once more before standing up. He held out his hand for Regulus to take. He got up and they walked into the dining room, hand-in-hand, much to Sirius’s confusion and everyone’s delight.

[auxiliarydetective]

AP-01: Project Apocalypse

ch. 00: Prologue

AP-01 Masterlist

This fic is part of the Academy Projects series, a full rewrite of The Umbrella Academy with the addition of an original character, Kassandra Hargreeves. Throughout the story, you'll stumble across a few songs. This is supposed to make the fic feel as much like the show as possible, so I recommend you don't skip them.

Warnings: Canon-typical issues, death, drugs

On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began. Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

He got eight of them.

These eight children, numbered and ordered, had grown up together at the Umbrella Academy, stuck in a time capsule as their Number 4 would later say, with no friends outside those walls and little space for themselves despite the sheer size of the house. You would think that such an experience would bond the children together. Make them virtually inseparable. But fate had other plans. Tragedy struck the family, not once but twice, and the second time was the match that finally hit the powder barrel after dozens had been tossed. One by one, each of the siblings left, and over the next decade, they all lost contact.

Well, not all of them. One of them still knew where everyone was. What they did, who they were… or who they remembered them as. Number Eight, the one at the bottom of the list, also known as Kassandra Hargreeves. She had been among the first to leave and now worked as a librarian, but she still tried to keep an eye on her siblings. For old times’ sake, she told anyone who asked.

Number Seven, Vanya Hargreeves, had stuck to her passion for the violin, and had taken up teaching the instrument to other people. She also played third chair in a local orchestra and, perhaps most notoriously, had written a tell-all biography about her life at the Academy, one that none of her siblings had taken very well.

Number Four, Klaus Hargreeves, was still a drug addict. Had been since he was young and maybe he always would be. Kassandra knew because she had had to collect him from the police station, the hospital or jail a few times. After all, she was still his emergency contact, since he couldn’t find himself a new one. Still, the two of them didn’t really talk, for reasons they wouldn’t tell the other.

Number Three, Allison Hargreeves, the superstar. An incredibly famous actress, she now had everything she had dreamed of as a girl… except for a stable family, according to various gossip magazines and newspapers. After a messy divorce from her husband, poor Allison had lost custody of her daughter, Claire. That couldn’t have gone well for her, Kassandra knew. She had planned on calling Allison after the divorce, but had only reached the answer machine.

Number Two, Diego Hargreeves, hadn’t changed his ways at all. He was a vigilante now, still brave, with a firm sense of justice - and a troublemaker for the police. Originally, Kassandra had been the one the police would call on in case something went wrong, but Diego had erased her as his emergency contact only a month or two in.

And finally, Number One, Luther Hargreeves. Luther was in space, that was all Kassandra knew. One last mission from dad.

As for Number Five and Number Six… Kassandra tried not to think about them, and every day, she failed.

In over 13 years, the Hargreeves siblings hadn’t been in the same room or even the same building together. Whether they were avoiding each other or just drifting apart was unimportant, what mattered was the distance. But all of that was about to change.

On the 21st of March, Sir Reginald Hargreeves suddenly died. The news of his death travelled around the world, across every tv screen and radio station, by word of mouth or rumors. Inevitably, it also had to reach the siblings and reel them in. In an ironic mirror image of the way things usually went, Kassandra learned of her father’s death last.

It was close to midnight and Kassandra was still at work, finally having finished sorting the new books. The library had been closed since 9pm, but the new books had come in late and they needed to be sorted before 9am the next day, which was opening time. Well, technically, they didn’t necessarily need to be sorted, but tomorrow was Friday, a busy day, and also one with few experienced workers there. Bad combinations, really. Sorting could take hours if you didn’t know what you were doing, so Kassandra had volunteered to stay and finish the job. In the end, she hadn’t had to do it on her own though.

“Alright, Timmy, are you ready to go?” Kassandra called as she put on her coat.

“Coming!”

Timothy Carmichael, one of her coworkers. A nice man, a bit boyish though, and not the good kind. Still, he was good company, especially on those late nights. As Kassandra waited for him to emerge from the rows of shelves, she moved to turn off the radio still playing in the break room. But then, the news came on and she paused.

“The world mourns the death of eccentric billionaire Sir Reginald Hargreeves, a known adventurer and philanthropist.”

Kassandra froze in place, her eyes turning glossy and her hand gloved hand moving on its own to turn the volume up.

“The news of his death were made public just an hour ago by a speaker of the Umbrella Academy. As of now, the cause of death is still unclear, but evidence points towards a heart attack, says the speaker. Sir Reginald Hargreeves leaves behind a large fortune, multiple companies and properties, as well as five children that–”

With an almost violent swiftness, Kassandra shut the radio off, her fingers hovering over the button afterwards. She pulled her hand back and rolled her shoulders, taking a deep breath. All the while, her expression remained controlled, though her eyes were somber.

“I’m sorry,” she could hear Timmy saying next to her.

“They got it wrong,” Kassandra just said. “Even after that book, they still get it wrong.”

Timothy blinked a few times, and Kassandra could’ve heard the gears in his head turning if she had been paying attention. But she was too busy listening to her own inner voice.

“Get what wrong?” Timmy finally asked.

“The number. There’s six of us left, not five. Poor Vanya…”

“You’re not… upset about your father at all?”

Kassandra sighed and tugged at her thin satin gloves, making sure they were snug on her fingers. “I don’t know. I just… didn’t think the man could die.”

Timmy was kind enough to drive Kassandra home, allowing her to make it home at a somewhat reasonable hour. As she turned the keys, her mind was still lingering on that news report, the jingling of metal taking her back to her younger years. She tried to ignore it, she really did, but her mind kept telling her that there was something wrong, striking her with guilt over and over.

At 1:30am, against her better judgement, Kassandra made a phone call.

General Taglist: @starcrossedjedis @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene @bravelittleflower @box-of-bats - let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Academy Projects Taglist: @therantsofawriterrr @come-along-pond @the-wyvern-institute @cherrybombgigi

[doublegoblin]

Story about a gas station

Off the country road, halfway to the middle of nowhere was a gas station. It was a small and modest establishment to be sure but it was the lighthouse for many an out-of-state travelers. Inside this station were two women, Susan and Tonya. Strangers at first but now something closer to friends; at least the kind you have at work. Susan was busy sweeping the same spot in the floor as Tonya rested her weight on the counter. The sun had dipped low and the sky was ablaze with its splendor; dark clouds were hanging on the horizon. The only sound other than the rustle of the broom was the electrical hums from different machinery, low thrum of the coolers, and the radio with words that fought against the static.

Susan groaned and stretched while glancing at the clock on the wall, “Hey Tonya,” she chirped “clocks busted again, you got the time?”

Tonya picks her head up from her arms and glances at the register, “About  three-quarter past seven. You headin’ out?”

“Yeah, think you can manage the fort by yourself?” She asks while heading to the employee area.

Following behind, “I don’t know, the place is pretty busy.” 

“You’re a capable gal, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Adjusting the ball cap on her head she hiked the thin jacket over her shoulders. “Mark should be by to relieve ya around three in the morning. Here” -she hands Tonya a sheet of paper- “if you by some miracle find yourself with some free time, I got a list of things that need doin’.”

The two head back to the main floor of the establishment and Tonya rings Susan up for a pack of cigarettes and a meat stick. Lingering long enough for a idle bit more of chit chat before heading out the door. Her rusted pickup truck struggling to life before bellowing off into the encroaching twilight.

Then it was just Tonya.

Time by yourself can really start to drag on. Seconds become hours and hours become eternity. So to keep herself from feeling the crushing weight of gears of time, Tonya starts to work on the list. First is facing all of the items on the shelves. It seems the universe deemed to reward her as the radio was able to hold a consistent signal for more than three songs. As the notes bounced she absentmindedly sang along, well, more mumbled the words she didn’t know and whispered the ones she did. She must have really gotten into that last song because to her horror, the man who had been patiently waiting clapped for her.

Her cheeks burned bright as she hurried behind the counter to assist the gentleman.

“I am so sorry! Our little chime stopped working a few months back and I didn’t hear you come in.” She stammered while typing in the UPCs.

He laughed like a granddad and smiled through his thick white beard, “That’s quite alright I’m in no rush. Are you really all by your lonesome out here?”

Hearing his kind tone she slowed, still looking at the register, “Yes sir. Coworker left not more than an hour ago…I think. I’m sorry but what pump were you at?”

“Pump 3 dear. Can I put ten dollars on it?”

“Yes sir.” She glanced out the window to confirm his location, a ruby red Sedan shined in the over-head lights, “Oh I love that color.”

The man follows her eyes and chuckles, “It’s the miss’s car, but yes, it is a wonderful color isn’t it? I’ll have to let her know she got a compliment today.”

She couldn’t help but smile a little, “So will that be all?”

“Yes ma’am.”

The register whirled and sputtered as the total was calculated, “That’ll be $23.76 please.”

The man riffles through his pockets and pulls out his wallet, riffling through he hands a $20 and a $10 bill across to her. After she has type in the amount and goes for his change he holds his hand up.

“Keep the change.”

“Are you sure sir?” She hopes he isn’t playing a cruel trick.

“More than. Now, you have a wonderful rest of your evening…”

“Tonya sir.”

“Have a wonderful evening Tonya.” He nods politely and heads back out the door and after fueling his car, leaves into the night.

Tonya was alone once again.

The inside of the gas station was washed in the harsh fluorescent lights. Their unnatural glow emphasized by the moonless night out past the glass. She was making steady progress through the list. She had cleaned the counter, restocked the washer fluid at each pump, organized the supplies in the backroom, and other such small tasks. During such time only a handful of more customers came and went, each pleasant in their own ways. With a chair pulled to the windows she was scrubbing away at the accumulated dust and grime when the radio caught signal once more.

Gaining purchase, a smooth tenor voice slid from the speakers, “The Cranberries folks, always  a delight. Half past nine and it’s about that time.” The voice laughs. “Before I leave you, the evening forecast and news. Right now the skies are clear but that’ll most likely change around midnight. Weatherfolks are calling for some pretty severe thundershowers so best to batten down the hatches and get everyone inside. Looking like a high of 63 and a low of 54 so really the best time to snuggle up with the one you love and ride out the storm. No traffic to report on in our quiet little town. 

“Officials are still asking people to call in with any information about the family of three. Sheriff Jackson says he’s offering a reward of $100 to anyone who can provide any vital information; so hopefully that can loosen any tight lips out there listening. But that’ll about do it for me folks, to send you off into the land of dreams, up next- KZZGTZZ”

Static returns again, startling Tonya who almost falls from her chair. Thankfully, nobody was around to hear her panicked yelp as she clung to the gutters. Shaken and embarrassed she scuttles back inside and deletes that portion of the CCTV footage.

The wind whistles through the crack of the entrance as she sorts through the food in the freezer for anything expired. A loud THWACK causes her to jump. Looking up and down the aisles a box of sweets must have been too close to the edge and caught the breeze. Right? Undeterred by aero-vandalism, she returns the item back to it’s place and makes her way back to the freezer.

 Hands numb from the cold she blows into them and rubs them together.

THWACK! 

More agitated than startled she heads back to see the same box lying on the floor. With a furrowed brow she marches over and firmly sets it back. Not wanting to experience the rule of three she makes her way behind the counter and rummages through the drawer for some tape. 

“Ah-ha!” 

Pulling a half empty roll of duct-tape she roughly shuts the drawer and heads back but stops at the end of the aisle. 

No noise was made, or at least none were heard, but that same box was once again on the floor. As were several more. 

With an almost growl she mutters to herself and sticks each container within eye-sight to their shelf. Standing triumphant against her adversary of unruly confections and candy she turn her back onto the aisle. Quickly turning around to catch a box leaning half-way over. Glaring out the window she sighs and resigns herself to pushing everything that could be caught by wayward wind back on their shelf. It didn’t look nice, but she was not playing this game all evening. Her eyes are caught by two blinding spotlights and a low rumble. Voices beyond the door but nobody to see. Male voices. Deep and rowdy voices. 

The doors open and three men dressed in business casual and baseball caps spill in. The wind fought against the door and in the gale, the unmistakable smell of alcohol. Once they had cleared away Tonya struggled against the blustering bastard but soon sealed the station back up against the outside world.

“H-hey Tonny!” One of the men slurred at the top of his lungs.

“Bro, shhh, inside voices man.” The one called Tonny responded, more coherent than his friend. “What?”

“Dude check it oooout, tiiiiiits!” The loud one held aloft an adult magazine and giggled.

“Kyle, man, p-put th-that doooown.” The third man pawed at the magazine, turning bright red.

“Scotty chill you’ll break something, and Kyle, my man, what are you eleven?” Tonny snatched the item away from Kyle.

“Eleven inches in your mooooom!” He and Scotty laughed and high-fived as Tonny just sighed and put it back on the rack.

Tonya couldn’t help but giggle but also feel disgusted at the drunken antics. Staying firmly behind the counter she observed the men as they milled about the store. One would make their way to the beer cooler before Tonny would drag them away, often with toddler-like protests. Stumbling through the tight aisles Kyle and Scotty groped at each thing that caught their attention. Tonny walked his way to the counter and set down a few things, taking glances back at his two children.

“Sorry about all the noise.”

“It’s alright sir, you all celebrating something?” She made idle chit chat while punching in the numbers once again.

Tonny laughed, “Ya don’t have to call me sir. And yeah, Scotty” -he points to the man who was fighting to stay awake in the snack aisle- “just got himself a promotion, ain’t that right Scotty?” He shouts, startling Scotty awake who reflexively shoots some finger guns towards them.

“You don’t seem to be as…celebrant, as your friends.” She brushes the hair away from her ear.

“I mean, one of us needs to be the DD-”

“Tonny!” Kyle shrieks while sprinting up.

“Jesus!” Tonny clutches his chest. “Fuckin’ hell man, what!? You almost gave me a heart attack!”

Kyle blinks slowly and sways in place, “I gotta piss.”

“Back corner hun.” She gently points at the marked door.

His eyes lighting up, Kyle stumbles away.

The men lingered for a while longer than needed. Tonya and Tonny struck up a pleasant conversation and on the way out he had slipped her a piece of paper. With a coy smile she tucked it into her uniform pocket and wished the men a safe evening. Once the rose tinted glasses had come off though she was fully aware of the mess the tornado of booze created in her mostly perfected store. With butterflies keeping her aloft though, she tiptoes through the disaster and gets to cleaning once more.

What was once howling now was a shrill shriek as the sky opened up and let down its tears. Lightning cracked across the sky turning for a flash the night into a harsh day. Tonya was unaware of it though. Her headphones snug and walkman blasting sick tunes as she mopped the store floor. Most locations may have the odd midnight visitor but out here, well, the men were the exception. So as she ballroom danced with the handle her mind wandered and drifted away. The lights flickering gave her pause. With a click of a button her warm backdrop of sound was once more the cold and sterile buzz.

“Storm is really blowing, I should let the folks know I’m fine.” she muttered.

Heading back to the counter she hoisted the employee phone up and dialed. Leaning against the counter twirling the cord she hummed her most recent song. When it went to voicemail she recalled exactly when she was calling and the burn of embarrassment was hot.

After the tone, “S-sorry I forgot what time it was, I’m just calling to let you both know I’m fine. U-uh yeah, love you both, bye!” she quickly slammed the receiver down and held her head in her hands groaning.

The lights flickered once again, longer.

“Oh shoot, I hope the power doesn’t go out…I should double check the generator.”

With a nod she headed back to the employee area and grabbed the umbrella. 

With her back turned she didn’t see the silhouette illuminated by lightning at the front door. 

The rain pounded against the umbrella, threatening to rip a hole through the fabric. Her feet were quick. Flashlight in the other hand she rounded the building from the employee exit and made her way to the shed at the end of the parking lot. The dim yellow glow, all to guide her through the murk. A harsh and bitter wind tore through her cotton uniform and sent a shiver down her spine.

The rain was violent, she didn’t hear the second set of footsteps.

Stuck. The handle of the shed was always stuck. Nothing a well placed shoulder couldn’t fix. With the door relenting she stumbled into the must shed, the dust on the pavement being washed away. She allows herself a moment to shake dry what she could. Once satisfied she fumbles along the wall until finding the switch. With a click the old lightbulb hums to dim light. The shed was more like a concrete tomb to be fair, the long corpse the cobweb covered generator; on the side was sticker that read ‘Bessie’. Shutting the door behind her she sets the umbrella down and goes to attend to Bessie. The manual, with pages curled and yellow, sits on the workbench at the far side of the shed. She thumbs through the book until she makes it to the maintenance section.

Did the door handle jiggle or was that thunder?

She paused for a second to think. Thunder for sure.

Her mind ached at the techno-babble but she soon made heads of the tails. With confidence she followed the pictured instructions as needed. After her very brief inspection she was able to set the machine to an automatic trigger.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

She wasn’t sure why. But she felt as if she was being watched. She glances at the window but doesn’t see anything, apart from the darkness of a stormy night. Shaking the feeling off she turns her attention back to the generator and making sure it has enough fuel. 

Tap

Tap

Tap

It must be rain on the window for sure…right?

Tap 

Tap

CRASH

A wicked wind cuts through the shed. Leaves and sticks scattering among the glass. With her heart racing she grabs the broom and dustpan and starts to clean it all up. Something possessing her she glances at the mirror above the sink, and sees a figure slink around the store. She grips the broom handle tight, enough to splinter the wood. With a sharp inhale she drops the thing and quickly picks the splinters out of her flesh. It had to have been something caught in the wind. It had to be. Nobody else is usually out this far, not this late at night. For an unknown amount of time; maybe second or minutes, she stared at the same corner where that thing had slipped. 

Courage returning she broke her line of sight and hastily returned to cleaning. Then back into the dark. Her feet carry her quickly back to the safety of the store light and then into the breakroom. With a slamming of the door she leaned on it and caught her breath. 

“It’s just late Tonya, you are just seeing things.” She lied to herself.

It must have been a convincing lie as she made her way out to the floor again.

Nothing at first seemed out of place. The store was small and the CCTV footage didn’t show anyone hiding among the aisles. The wind was bad enough that if someone had come inside the door would still be open, and it wasn’t. With a half-hearted laugh she returned to her post, her eyes darting this way and that.

Should she call someone?

Would anyone answer?

Should she call the police?

What if there wasn’t anything?

Her stance was rigid but her mind was racing. Then her eyes caught something that was out of the ordinary. A set of wet footprints at the front doors. Her eyes follow the path: from the front door they march towards the counter, snaking around and to the side just a foot from where she was standing, they then turn and lead to the employee door, then…to the bathroom. Where her eyes had followed, now do her feet. As if compelled she slowly approaches the door to the bathroom; her pulse quickens. It’s beating so hard she can feel it in her ears.

She reaches out towards the handle.

Then everything goes dark.

She shrieks and blindly sprints away from the door and shuts herself into the employee area. In her escape she had run into a display and the pain shoots through her as she huddles in a far corner.

She hears the bathroom door click open.

Then whistling.

Then heavy feet.

Her mind is racing. Why hadn’t the generator kicked back on!? Who is this person!? What do they want!? Then her mind goes quiet as the door to the employee shakes. Her blood is ice cold as she sits in perfect darkness and hears the handle rattling and the door buckling. A deep voice grunts and swears as the door is pounded on; each strike causes her to flinch. She backs herself more and more into the corner.

BAM

The door slams open as the light flicker back on. A large man looms in the doorframe. In one hand a knife shines in the light. In the other gnarled and rotting rope. From his perspective the lounge area is empty. Yet he knows someone has made their way in. The same someone he had seen in the shed. His feet fall with the sound of thunder as he ducks under the door frame and into the room. His odor of mold and rust fill the small space. Tonya fights back the urge to wretch and gag.  He whistles coldly as he stomps through the room. Leaning over to peer into each of the lockers. Hands gripping the knife firmly he thrusts the blade through each of the metal doors, disappointed when it comes back clean. This was no story or tale though, he was not going to turn and leave so easily.

Then, he spots the girl huddling in the corner. Her face is pale. Eyes are red. He grins a smile of blackened and crooked teeth. She had been crying, his favorite. He licks his lips and runs his thumb along the blade of his knife. He was going to take his time with her. She was so pretty after all. So absolutely statuesque. He looms over her, looking down to look at her reflection in the knife.

The lights go out. A sharp pain. Searing pain. Thousands of small needles. The splash of liquid on the floor. A scream.

A man runs into the store. A young man. He curses under his breath and hurries to the employee area. Finding it empty he heads out the backdoor.

“About time you showed up.” Tonya teases, tossing bags full to burst into the dumpster.

“Storm caught me out. Did you manage alright?” He helps her lift the warm and slippery plastic into the rusted container.

She nods, cleaning a red speck from the corner of her mouth, “Yeah, just had to take out the trash.”

[radlou]

OPEN LETTER TO LTHQ

to all whom it concerns in LTHQ and want to make things work:

Despite LT discussing fans “growing up with him” from 1D to now, the majority of his active fans are not old 1D fans. Catering to the 1D crowd doesn’t activate sales or interest outside the nostalgic cohort. If LT is too sentimental to blacklist 1D questions then at the very least you should be aware that these are HURDLES to establishing him, not aides. 

7 years - seven years - have gone by with LT’s output being ignored and interest redirected towards HS and others. Whoever the audience was then isn’t there now. Whoever the audience was then doesn’t have the motivation towards LT’s success-- they have Harry, BTS, Niall, etc etc. They don’t need Louis. The public does not know about what LT has been doing in that time, nor do they care when the music isn’t being played. 

Louies who are still here since then, or joined the fandom in that time, have worked tirelessly to make up for the lack of official support from labels/radio/PR/etc. We are tired. We are exhausted. We also know that what we do does not matter unless it’s amplified by official sources. We haven’t seen any of that, and so attrition returns. 

RADIO BLACKOUT - whether there is an official blackballing of LT in UK radio -- BBC, Capital FM who have monopoly have not given LT airtime or any support. We know BBC was part of HS’s rollout, perhaps there is nothing you can do to change that. Then please find alternatives. UK and US audiences have not heard or seen LT taken seriously in 7 years. Innovate, please. At least TRY. At least confirm that stations will play BTM instead of old 1D songs. At least confirm that the song and album will be plugged instead of ignored. 

Louies--fans--want to support Louis’ new album and new music. But it seems like the very same roadblocks are up as they were before, and little has been done to fix them. People are leaving the fandom in the lead up to an album because it looks like nothing has changed, in fact, it might be worse now because a new team hasn’t helped. 

So much is being left on the table. Fans will step up if there is reason to, if there is motivation to. We are rooting for you, and for Louis. Give us something to support.

[sunflovverharry]

Driving Home for Christmas

a/n: hii! i wanted to make this a super cute dad!h during christmas fic so i hope you enjoy! this fic is a part of @goldenbluesuit ´s christmas song fic challenge which i’m honored to be a part of! It's the first fic challenge I’ve entered and I’ve been nervous to post something along with all these other amazing writers, but I'm excited to post this little piece centered in the dad universe. Happy reading, and remember to read the rest of the entries as well (which I’ve read some these past two weeks and they’re fab!) <3

pairing: dad!h + y/n

warnings: none! just a cute dad!h piece

word count: 3.8k

Harry was loading the trunk of their Audi, putting all their packed suitcases and bags of presents in there. The car was smack full as this year they had another addition to their family, waiting patiently for her mum to feed her before they left the city. It was snowing heavily and Anne made sure they knew they didn’t have to drive up today with the weather making the roads worse than usual. Y/n also told him a hundred times it was his decision as he was the one driving. Harry didn’t budge though, telling his mum they would definitely be there by tonight.

This year's Christmas celebrations were being spent in Cheshire with Harry’s family seeing as they were with her family in Nottingham last year. They’ve found it works best this way rather than splitting it up to go both places every year. After four years together and buying a house at the start of this year, y/n thinks this might be the last Christmas spent out of their own home. They have their two cats (Nellie and Sunny) and having their first child it might be time to start celebrating the holiday at their own house.

«Babe, did you remember to pack the board games?» Harry heard his girlfriend ask from the threshold where they had hung a mistletoe and had Harry not been busy trying to make everything fit, he definitely would’ve turned around, ran up to her and gave her a big smack on the lips. He settled for giving her a thumbs up not swirling around as he was too busy trying to figure out how he could make most of their things fit in the trunk, thinking it was just like a game of tetris. While Harry had been doing the heavy lifting and packing; y/n had put a cute Christmas onesie on the still tiny body of their daughter, definitely small for her age but she was eating like her daddy so where the weight went they had no idea.

Olive was a generally happy, cuddly baby who more often than not reached for her dad over her mum. It didn’t bother y/n that she was a daddy’s girl, knowing how much Harry loves children and now that he has his own he’s all over her. She finds the two cuddled together on the sofa, their bed or the armchair in her nursery at least a couple times a day. Her phone is now overflowing with photos of the two and she’s hoping to put together a photo album for Harry’s birthday filled with them - knowing he’d cherish it forever.

Half an hour later they were pulling out of the driveway. Harry had checked multiple times that all the lights were out, the doors were locked and the alarm system was functioning properly. Olive was smiling as she sat still in her car seat behind y/n. She had wondered if sitting in the back with her daughter would be better, but decided against it. If she got fussy they’d stop at a gas station and she’d move to the back.

The couple was tremendously excited to bring along their little bundle of happiness and get to show her off to all of Harry’s family and friends. Of course, his family have seen her when she was a newborn but living quite far away most of them only get to see them once or twice a year. It’ll change the dynamic of how they celebrate the holidays for sure, but it's a positive change. Anne will spoil her rotten, just like she does to y/n when they visit - making her tea whenever she wants some, washing their dirty laundry (which y/n didn’t care that her mother-in-law saw her underwear cause she didn’t bring anything too scandalous) and heading to the shops when they needed even the smallest thing. Really, y/n thought she was too kind for her own good. At the same time though, y/n always did play a good host when Anne visited them - spoiling her with the comfiest bed sheets, making the food for every meal, not wanting her to lift a finger as if she was the queen.

Olive was eight months - a fairly active one at that - and loves to crawl everywhere, especially to follow her mum or dad around the lower floor of their (way too big) house for only the three (five) of them. Since the pair hadn’t brought Olive with them for such a long drive, the longest being an hour, they were anxious to find out how she’d react to being confined over a longer period of time.

Half an hour in and Olive was babbling away to the teddy bear in her arms (she got it from her nephews when she was born and has been attached to it since) as Harry and y/n talked about how excited they were for their daughter to explore her daddy´s hometown and how his whole family and friends would fall in love with Olive even more. With their little girl just starting to sleep all through the night in her own room, Anne wanted to make sure she got her own room at her nana's too, so apparently she’s cleaned the office and made it into a makeshift nursery for her granddaughter.

Y/n doesn’t know who’s more excited to see all the familiar faces, the family that’s become not only important to her in the last four years, but now also to their baby. The last time they visited Cheshire, y/n was barely two months pregnant and as tough as it was to keep it hidden from Anne for another month, they managed to keep it to the two of them (with just a handful of slip-ups). They were sure Anne knew they were having a baby with the small smirks she gave y/n and harry when she didn’t want the wine - Harry keeping to non-alcoholics in solidarity with her - which was unregular for her, normally jumping on the thought of having a glass or two after a long day.

“You know mum won’t give her up after she gets her hands on her right as we walk through the front door? Might want to hop in the back and get your fix before we get there.” Harry let out a chuckle with y/n joining in knowing just how true his words were. Anne was a godsend of a grandmother, taking Olive in her arms doting over her until she’ll start crying for her daddy. Though everyone gives her all the attention she could wish for, no one could ever do what Harry can. He’s her favorite, no matter how much I wish I could be.

Another half hour later and we were making our first stop at a local gas station in Aylesbury. We were about a third of the way in, but the weather was getting harsher with the snow falling harder and the wind picking up just a little bit. While Harry filled the car up with gas and made sure Olive didn’t start fussing, y/n went inside to get a couple snacky items for the three of them and a filled up cup of coffee for her boyfriend. Coming out of the station she could see Harry in the back with his love bug, bringing her out of the car seat as her cute little wails haltered. She was due for a feed, so they found a secluded space to park so no one would stare at her while breastfeeding their daughter.

Sitting in the front passenger seat with her daughter attached to her nipple with her baby daddy sitting in the driver's seat next to her they spent the next twenty minutes singing along to the Christmas songs playing one after the other on the radio.

Y/n had always loved this time of year - the snow, the songs (which - admittedly - she listened to throughout the entire year), the decorations, the joy and cheer. With y/n and Harry moving in together a month before Christmas, only half a year after they first began dating, they had a mutual understanding for how they would go all out with lights, trees and decorations both on the inside and outside. Though their house was gated with a high fence along the perimeter of their entire land. The trees lining the driveway all the way from the gate to where the gravel road extends into two, one leading to the garage and the other to the front door, were now lit up with strings of light going through them. It was only the beginning to their decorations, but it couldn’t be seen from the gate. More lights were lit along the house, windows were accentuated by red tape creating squares with spray along it, making it seem like snow on the glass. Though there aren’t tons of colourful lights, outside at least, the inside is littered with different colours, shining and sparkling along the staircases, mantels, dressers, counters and tables.

Olive felt like there was something new to look at, touch and be amazed by in every room of their house. As the clock sets seven in the morning, like clockwork, Harry hears Olive’s wails for him to get her out of the crib so she can move around. He kisses y/n’s forehead as he lets her sleep for another half hour to an hour like every morning before pulling on a pair of boxers and some pajama pants if it’s cold to get his daughter from her nursery across the hall.

The two of them were like two giggling girlfriends when they finally saw each other for the first time that day, not being able to keep their smiles from their similar lips. Walking downstairs Olive points at the garland wrapping the staircase and every time she sees it, a small sound of surprise and excitement exit her puckered lips. Harry talks to her about how good her mama is at decorating their house and how good it looks good for Christmas (he only helped her put up decorations, following her direct orders). Y/n had a certain way she liked to decorate and with this being the first Christmas in their house she wanted everything to look perfect.

Coming into the kitchen after turning the dimmed lights on low to have some lighting in the morning dark they had a little shimmy along the floor. Olive babbled along with Harry’s singing and mumbling to her explaining how the buttons on the walls turned on the different lights. She probably didn’t understand or care about the lights, but the two continued singing and talking about nonsense along the way. In the kitchen, Harry made her a bottle she demanded having before getting started on the omelette he makes for him and y/n every morning he’s home without fail.

When they finally got back on the road the snow was coming down heavily and the only thing they could see were the lines of cars in front of them on the M40 pushing the break every few seconds before accelerating again moving only a couple meters before breaking again. Y/n didn’t have a lot of patience in traffic - or in general - and quickly became annoyed making Harry laugh at her telling her to calm down (she wasn’t even the one who had to drive through this horrible weather). This lasted for another forty-five minutes before the snow let up just a little bit and the cars seemed to roll along the road like normal.

“I didn’t think driving home for Christmas would take this long. At least, I hoped it wouldn’t.” They’d been on the road since nine thirty this morning and now, two and a half hours later, they still have at least another two hours left until they’re at Anne’s. It wasn’t unusual for y/n to call Anne’s home, having stayed there for weeks at a time during the almost five years her and Harry have known each other. Harry isn’t unknown to calling y/n’s parents’ house his home either.

“I know. Wish it didn’t have to take this long and I’m sure little Ollie is going to get antsy soon. If the weather continues like this and we don’t have to take more than one more break, I think we’ll be there within three hours, but if we run into traffic, we might have to take more stops along the way.” Harry wanted to move along quickly to get to his mum’s before Olive’s nap time around three, if she didn’t end up sleeping in the car. We knew when we decided to drive in the morning that Olive would probably stay up the whole way, too engrossed with the cars and lights along the way to ever be able to fall asleep.

“You know what we should do to keep her happy for another half hour at least?” Y/n turned to look at Harry with a smile grazing her lips. “Play some Christmas music! She loves when we sing and dance around the house.” Playing the memories of hearing Olive’s belly laughter through the house while Harry and her danced in circles around her like another pair of idiots.

Putting on the same Christmas song list they’ve played since making it together all those years ago, the first song coming on shuffle being Santa Claus is Coming to Town. The noise was at a comfortable volume so they could still hear Olive if she started fussing though it’s unlikely and for it to not be too disturbing for Harry’s driving. With Olive seated with her back to them she couldn’t see her mummy dancing in her seat while they sang along to song after song, but she heard her parents’ voices singing out to the songs she’s heard oh so many times before.

“This is accurate, huh?” Harry snickered as Driving Home for Christmas began playing through the speakers.

“You don’t say.” It was one of their favorite songs and it fit the scene they were in, driving home for Christmas, excited to see their family, singing along the slowly getting better traffic. Looking around at the cars next to them, most of them looked to be families also driving home to be with their families for this year's holiday celebrations.

The rest of the drive was filled with more singing, two more stops for Harry to give his baby some cuddles and walking around one of the local Tesco’s they stopped at to get some more drinks and snacks. Olive was waving at everyone walking past us and talking all kinds of gibberish. While y/n grabbed the snacks, Harry had Olive walking along the aisles in between his feet while holding her little hands in his following her around the store.

A quarter to three they finally made it to Anne’s home, reversing into the driveway so they could get their baggage inside easier later in the day. Y/n saw Anne open the front door in the rearview mirror when Harry was pulling in the last meters. There was a bright smile on her face when we got out of the car. The snow had laid thick on the ground up north and the slick ice underneath made it harder to walk without having to make sure every step was carefully thought out.

Just minutes later Olive was already crawling with her little legs all over her grandma’s home, interested in anything and everything she could get her chubby hands on not seeming to be tired at all. They decided to forgo her nap and hope for an early night, which isn’t likely with everything going on around her. Anne was on granny duties right away telling the pair to sit down and relax with the tea she had prepared while she took care of the baby. There was no doubt she loved the attention from the person she might not remember from this summer but quickly became attached to, almost as much as she is to her daddy.

Harry found his place on the sofa, head in y/n’s lap and feet hanging over the armrest demanding her fingers curling through his locks. It wasn’t surprising to her that he was tired from driving the entirety of the way in traffic and tightly packed snow at times. Sure, if needed he could have stayed awake, but with his mum taking care of his little love he didn’t care much, falling asleep to his other love combing her fingers through his hair. It didn’t happen too often that they could have a cuddle in the middle of the day - just the two of them - with Olive needing their attention at all hours of the day so when the opportunity arose he wasn’t going to turn it down. He admits, though this is nice as well, that a naked cuddle in bed would definitely top laying on the sofa with his mum and daughter running around them. Maybe tonight, he thinks, as he finally falls asleep to the sound of Olive’s giggles.

As nighttime inched closer and Olive’s bedtime was passing them in the chatter and laughter, y/n told Harry to get their things from the car while she nurses Olive before getting her ready for bed. While they took care of their daughter, Anne made a nice spread of cheese and crackers for them to indulge tonight while catching up on everything that’s been going on in their lives since the last time she visited them in London.

Harry found Olive’s bag first, choosing a pair of christmassy pajamas from the mountain of clothes they had brought for her. Y/n walked upstairs to the nursery Anne had set up, seeing Harry already unpacking her bags into the cute vintage turquoise chiffonier Anne had bought from a neighbour only a couple weeks ago immediately falling in love with it.

«Would you like to have a cuddle with daddy before bed, Ollie?» Y/n firmly believed her daughter needed the nightly cuddle from Harry, just like she does, to fall asleep. She was already reaching out for him with her nimble hands waiting for him to take her in for a snuggle in his arms. There was no armchair in the makeshift nursery like they had purchased for Olive’s nursery back home where they always sat but Harry made it work. Anything for a cuddle with his baby growing way too quick for his liking.

It was no secret Harry loved babies and that only heightened when he had his own baby. With how good Olive is and how lush it’s been having a baby around and it not be just the two of them, he had thought about what it would be like with another baby around. Another little love for them to have, give Olive a sister or brother to play with. He hadn’t said anything to y/n about the thoughts he’d been having, not knowing if she'd agree with him. It’s been eight months and when they had talked about it before they agreed on a maximum of two years between their children.

Only a couple hours later they headed to bed themselves, ready for a good night's sleep before another long day tomorrow. Harry had been debating with himself whether he was going to mention babies to y/n or not - ultimately ended up with yes, he would mention it. Now they were finally alone with y/n resting her head on Harry’s pillow, her fingers delicately drawing patterns on his chest.

“I have something I’d like to discuss with you.” Harry’s voice wasn’t much louder than a whisper, not wanting to ruin the calmness around them. He wasn’t nervous so to say, but he felt his pulse quicken the tiniest bit at the thought of getting turned down. Y/n turned her head to watch Harry as he pulled her in as close as he could without suffocating her.

“It’s been lovely having Olive, right? Seems like it was meant to be to have a baby and during the holidays it’s been so fun watching her so interested in everything.” Y/n murmured her answer. She had loved having a little one to care for and to fill their days with joy over the last eight months.

“Well, with how well it’s been going with her, I was thinking we could talk about having another little one? Maybe discuss it a bit. What do you say, let's make Ollie a big sister?”

“I think we might be well on the way to making her a sister, bub.” Harry turned his head at lightning speed hearing her words, not knowing if he heard her quite right. His open mouth and big round eyes weren’t something she saw often combined as she wasn’t always the best at surprising him, but this time she was sure her secret had come as a big shock. It wasn’t as if they had been trying for a baby either, only forgetting a condom a handful times when they were too in the moment to care for it.

She found out only a week ago, thinking she could keep it to herself until Christmas day. It wasn’t difficult to hide it from him, not struggling with morning sickness and only craving sweets as if she was on her period. Knowing they had agreed on the number of children they wanted - four - she wasn’t scared of him reacting badly.

“You’re not joking, right?” Harry smashed his lips onto his girlfriends when she shook her head - no, i’m not joking - kissing her slow and long, showing her just how happy he was. They spent the night talking about how thrilled and excited they were to expand their family with more children and how great of a sister Olive would be. Baby names were flying between them, agreeing to never naming one of their babies after a city, but rather continuing naming them something more unique than Chloe or Adam.

The rest of the holiday spent up north with Harry’s family was relaxing and lovely all around. Playing board games, exploring the city with Olive (who was way too fascinated by all the snow), family dinner parties and having fun with friends they didn’t get to see all too often. Olive was wiped out after opening her presents on Christmas morning and spending all her energy on all the toys she got and the paper ripping she played with (more than the toys to be honest).

This year had been special for the family and Christmas was just the same. Olive was lively and it made y/n and Harry exhausted with everything going on, but they wouldn’t change it for the world. After all, Olive was their little girl and soon there would be another little love in their family. Trying to keep the pregnancy from their family and friends was easier this time around as she could blame not drinking alcohol on her breastfeeding and decided they would keep it hidden from everyone until the last possible minute.

[remakethestars]

CABIN 7 — APOLLO

Headcanons.

❝There ought to be more drama, I think. A musical crescendo. Confetti.❞

— Jess Cooper, I Am Still Alive

Headcanon masterlist.

Oh, boy — this is my cabin, y'all; buckle up! 😁

Not all Apollo kids are good at everything their dad's good at, okay? I sure as heck can’t paint or play an instrument. 

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of violence?

They run an underground tattoo parlor.

That's where Will & Butch got their respective sun & rainbow tats.

Apollo kids with lyrics tattooed into their skin.

Rick says there isn't much by way of décor inside, which is f*in' B.S. Apollo's the god of art; those walls have been graffitied Tangled style.

🎶 i'll paint the walls some more — i'm sure there's room somewhere! 🎶

The east wall is covered in a landscape of a sunrise, & the west has a sunset (because the sun rises in the east & sets in the — yeah, I'll see myself out).

The north & south walls & the ceiling are white, though, because it really brightens/opens up the space (C7 has the 2ⁿᵈ most campers under C11 because Apollo's a slut; things can get a little crowded in the summer).

When there’re celebrations, the artistically inclined kids bust out the face paint. Especially for the younger campers.

The artistically inclined are the ones that paint the camp beads for the end of the summer. Despite the numbers, it doesn’t take them as long as one might think.

Rick said the ceiling had cedar beams, but we're not gonna do Cyparissius dirty like that. Cypress wood is good for building; the beams are cypress. You know what? F*ck you — the whole dang cabin's cypress!

There’s a massive, potted aloe vera plant by the steps that gets moved into the C4 greenhouse in the winter. It’s one of those old ones — because everyone knows the old aloe plants work better for burns & blisters than these sh¡tty new ones. (It’s constantly getting broken off to heal burns & stuff.) 

Rick said there are potted red & purple hyacinths in the window & yellow flowers from Delos. That's true.

I'd say the flowerbeds around the cabin are full of healing plants, but I feel like they'd be better off around the infirmary for obvious reasons.

I do feel like there's a laurel tree planted outside C7, though, because Apollo's a pining b¡tch.

And there's an actual infirmary building, okay? Rick's kinda inconsistent about that. Sometimes he says "infirmary," sometimes he says the Big House is running over with injured, & apparently there's a cot dead center for injured in C7? B.S.

Or maybe I've just read too much fanfic, and the authors don't get it right?

Either way, there's an infirmary building with surgery & delivery rooms. One floor. Locker room for C7 kids to store their scrubs & sh¡t.

They go for yellow scrubs, though, because orange C.H.B. scrubs make them look like escaped convicts.

Fun Band-Aids™

They give out little orange stickers with laurels around the edges that are like I voted! stickers, but they're injury-specific.

I got my leg(s) reattached! & Percy Jackson shot me in the butt! & I ticked off Clarisse! & I made out with an Aphrodite kid in the poison ivy! & I fell off the lava wall! & I got pranked by the Stolls!

After a war or just when there’re a lot of campers in the infirmary, there seems to be a constant flow of Apollo kids singing one hymn to their father in unison to heal someone.

Sometimes, an unconscious camper wakes in a cot & thinks they’ve died & gone to the wrong afterlife for a moment because their singing sounds like angels. 

The medically inclined wash their hands like surgeons. 

Kind of germophobic?

They also go around tying surgeons knots in everything.

In the summer, they’re walking Banana Boat sunscreen & after-sun aloe lotion dispensers.

The medically inclined also have the world’s sh¡ttiest handwriting.

They have to work hard to fix it if it bothers them. 

Can check your vitals & run a blood test just by touching you.

A lot of them casually touch their loved ones (at least, the ones that aren’t in C7) every morning to check their vitals & see how their health’s doing.

They do it subconsciously every time they touch someone & don’t notice it until they pick up something’s wrong.

They can do this for themselves as well. Though it may not be as accurate? And they take daily vitamins depending on what they need.

Organize their lives via pill box (never lose an earring).

Fight surgically. Every blade in their hands becomes a scalpel, & every time they’re going in for a kill against an armed anthropomorphic monster, they slice the tendons in its arm required to grip its weapon to disable it before going in for the kill.

Back to C7, it’s got a little porch with a porch swing. The kids sit on it sometimes & teach people how to play instruments.

They leave the porch light on at night when they’re waiting for one of their siblings to come home from a quest.

Jumping into the depressing sh¡t, they never found Michael’s body, so they only presumed him dead. They leave the porch light on every night now, hoping he’ll come home.

Apollo kids are afraid of the dark. They use the buddy system after the sun goes down. 

The cabin’s central light fixture is a papier-mâché sun that’s been charmed to glow when someone sings 🎶 clap on 🎶 & stop glowing when someone sings 🎶 clap off. 🎶

The curtains are a gold fabric. They’re only closed at night. Because, again, C7 kids are afraid of the dark.

The Wikipedia says Apollo kids are cursed to be afraid of snakes (I assume by the Python Apollo killed). I feel like they’d burn a lot of aster leaves then. I read somewhere it was said by the Greeks to ward off evil spirits & snakes.

They play Go Fish with their tarot cards. They’re really good at tarot games.

Hand-drawn tarot decks featuring figures form Greek myth.

There’s a target on the back wall they practice throwing cards at. They can throw them in combat for a distraction with terrifying accuracy. 

There’s a Magic 8 ball that’s passed around on the Winter Solstice (the longest night of the year), when — as a headcanon I’m sure I’ve read somewhere has indicated — they’re up all night.

Crystal balls are allowed. However, they must be covered with a cloth or placed in a box when not in use because they’re double-convex lenses, & we don’t want another incident like the fire of 1993.

Sometimes, they make little predictions throughout the day other campers may find disturbing. Such as whipping around and catching a stray arrow without warning (spidey sense?). Or cutting you off when you’re talking about someone moments before they walk into the room.

There’s a tea cart in the corner. Because tea is good for healing & they’ve accumulated an addiction.

The cart has a radio on it that’s always on at night because a lot of C7 kids can’t sleep without noise. (Inspired by @sugarandspiceandkindanice.)

Most of the time, it’s on a nearby country station that actually plays good country at night. But sometimes they switch channels — especially when there’s a new kid settling in & they could use the comfort.

There’s a portable record player there too. The shelves under the cart are full of C.D.s & records.

I’m sure I’ve read a headcanon somewhere that they sing every morning while getting ready for the day. That’s true.

The number of times it’s been “When Will My Life Begin” from Tangled is disturbing, though. 

🎶 seven a.m., the usual morning lineup! 🎶

Luke said in The Lightning Thief C11 is up at 07:00 & breakfast is at 08:00, I think, but we all know Apollo’s waking his kids up when the sun rises. 

A lot of the time, someone will just start out with whatever song they have stuck in their head & everyone else will pick it up.

Sometimes, this leads to members having the aforementioned song stuck in their head for the rest of the day.

Even the people who aren’t musically inclined will sing along, as they’re usually drowned out by the music kids that get really into it.

So sometimes those not-music kids will find themselves singing by themselves during the day years later & are surprised to find — they actually sound good?? Or at least not bad??? And it’s because singing is a learned skill & they picked it up.

I’m sure I’ve also read a headcanon somewhere that they sing “Look Down” from Les Mis when they have to do menial chores, but I'm adding “It’s a Hard-Knock Life” from Annie, “Whistle While You Work” from Snow White, “Happy Working Song” from Enchanted, & the Smurf song.

They break into song all the time.

Lee was glaring at Tantalus once & made the mistake of saying, “Sometimes, I wish —” and the entire cabin broke out with “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

🎶 — i'd never been born at all! carry on, carry on… 🎶

As mentioned in at least The Lightning Thief & The Lost Hero, they spend a lot of time playing basketball. You can bet your butt they do a rendition of “Getcha Head in the Game” from High School Musical every time there’s a new camper passing by.

They have a sister named Jubilee, and every time someone greets her — "Hey, Jube!" — the entire cabin breaks into “Hey, Jude” by The Beetles.

🎶 hey, Jube! don't make it bad. take a sad song & make it better… 🎶

Sometimes, if there are two campers that really need to get together, C10′ll commission C7 to sing “Kiss the Girl” from The Little Mermaid (or the same song with different pronouns, obviously). 

It’s usually a capella unless someone happens to have an instrument on them.

Rickrolling. 

The “Macarena.” 

Apollo takes clandestine recordings of their jam sessions & distributes them professionally. Whatever money’s made goes directly into their college funds or they periodically find it under their pillow tooth-fairy-style.

There’s a lot of denim because the artistic members like to paint on the backs of jackets & the pockets of jeans.

A lot of them have excellent aim with most projectiles, so they toss stuff to each other a lot. This results in them being oddly in sync, so they can catch something from another sibling without warning & without looking like Sam & Dean Winchester do in Supernatural. 

Their life looks like a Dude Perfect trick shot video. 

It also results in some funny looks when they hurl things halfway across camp to each other. Namely, the whistling Nerf football. 

C7 is two stories. The second story has paint on every wall. 

The east wall upstairs has arrows mounted that got Robin Hooded along with a little tag with the name of the C7 kid & the date it happened.

They also have arrows mounted from the first bullseye if there’s a member being taught. 

Lots of musical instruments & art supplies up there.

There’s an old T.V. up there. They have all of Bob Ross’s show on V.H.S.

C7′s south wall (ground floor) holds the door to the bathroom on one side & a door leading to the stairs. 

It also hosts framed photos of Charlotte, Lee, & Michael.

Instead of saying “shoot,” they say “loose.” For everything. Instead of saying “Shoot!” when they drop something, they say “Loose!” 

It's kinda one of those things — like your friend starts saying something & you just integrate it into your vocabulary subconsciously.

They like to play a game where you shoot an arrow straight up & try to catch it as it comes back down.

That sounds really stupid on their part, but it actually comes in handy when someone tries to shoot them in combat & they catch the arrow, dumbfounding whoever's attempted to skewer them.

The cresting on their arrows is in Morse code of their nickname (·—— ·· ·—·· ·—··). They can take one look at an arrow & tell what’s whose.

And the paint color of the cresting tells them what kind of arrow it is — bullet tip, broadhead, explosive, etc. 

Every bunk in C7 is made with hospital corners. No exceptions. The kids who aren’t medically inclined learn because all the beds being made the same way makes it look cleaner for inspection.

I can’t decide if Apollo kids have really good eyesight so they fit the Hawkeye bill or if they’ve all just read — Apollo’s the god of knowledge — & painted so much they’ve messed up their eyes.

The number of times one of them has used bowstring wax on an art project in a rush instead of glue is hilariously large.

I use String Snot, and it comes in a container that looks like a glue stick.

A lot of them wear bracers all the time.

When the time it takes to sling one’s quiver onto one’s back, grab one’s bow, knock an arrow, & draw is so long, one really doesn’t have time to also strap on their bracers before rushing out of the cabin to threaten a giant bronze dragon.

Not to mention if they use a recurve, they’ll also have to string their bow.

And a number of them do use recurves due to the abilities to both knock multiple arrows at once & to restring in the field.

Bows with risers coated in golden, reflective paint & limbs painted with artistic strokes.

Trick arrows are their jam. C9 is constantly being asked for new arrows.

Explosive arrows, sonic arrows, grappling hook arrows…

That’s another saying they’ve all taken to: “___ is my jam!”

There’s a bookshelf or reference material on Apollo for new C7 kids (as Rick’s indicated), but the rest of the case is full of medical journals & textbooks & books on art & poetry & divining the future.

A lot — if not all — of them have either gold flecks in their eyes or central heterochromia.

Freckles across their noses & shoulders & on the tips of their ears. Tans. Sun-bleached hair. 

Long, nimble fingers perfect for playing musical instruments.

Either they hate the winter because the sun's out for less time (so you’ll find them walking around with blanched skin & faded freckles & with both a hoody & a parka on), or they’re perfectly fine with winter & are used by everyone around them as walking space heaters. 

They spend a lot of time with Castor & Pollux. 

Rachel sits at T7. She’s practically an Apollo kid at this point. 

While her cave was being renovated, she stayed in C7.

Their dad’s the god of truth; none of these M.F.s can lie worth a sh¡t. 

But, by the gods, they can tell when you’re lying.

And they take it as a personal insult. That you (A) would dare do something as immoral as lying in the first place & that you (B) would dare to insult their intelligence in such a way because you thought they couldn’t tell.

C6 & C7 are both known for reacting outrageously when their intelligence is insulted (see: chapter 10 of The Battle of the Labyrinth). 

The more civil of the reactions of a C7 kid being lied to is cursing the liar to tell the truth, which I believe they can. 

They can curse you to speak in rhyming couplets; they should be able to curse you to tell the truth.

You mean to tell me none of these kids have created a functioning Lasso of Truth yet?

This one's really long. 😅

A lot of people fancast Sam Claflin as Apollo, but I'm going with Ross Lynch. 'Cause I do what I want. 😎

Visit my Apollo cabin Pinterest board or my headcanon masterlist.

DISCLAIMER ━━━ These headcanons are what I consider to be canon in my fanfictions. They may be others’s headcanons I’ve subconsciously filed away in my noggin. If one’s yours and you want it removed or credited, please send me your post and let me know.

[bluejayblueskies]

seven for jontim? <3

jontim + things you said while we were driving

.

The tension in the car on the way to Great Yarmouth is so thick Jon could cut it with a knife. He’s not really sure how he ended up carpooling with Tim—something about old habits and the Archers and ‘time to think’ that has Basira and Daisy sharing a car—but they’re an hour in and Jon can count the number of words Tim’s said to him on one hand.

 Jon wants to break the silence. He doesn’t know if they’ll get another chance to talk, if he’ll get another chance to say everything he wants to say. To apologize, to try to make amends, to tell Tim that he still—

 Jon sucks in a breath and looks out the window, at the sprawling countryside as it whisks by. Once upon a time, his hand would be clasped with Tim’s on the center console and Tim would be telling him some elaborate story about his latest camping trip or the case he’d been working on that had taken a dramatic turn or the latest office gossip and his own rather strong opinions about it. That’s one of the things he’d liked about Tim—the fact that Tim could talk, and Jon could listen, and when Jon got excited about something and interrupted Tim’s story, Tim would take it in stride and listen with a smile.

 God, it had been so easy, and now it’s not, and that more than anything makes Jon ache like his heart has been torn free from his rib cage.

Jon doesn’t realize he’s been tapping his fingers in a nervous rhythm on the center console until Tim lets out a labored sigh and breaks the silence as gracelessly as a bullet through a glass house. “Just say it.”

 It’s too loud after so long with only the noise of the road and the low murmur of the radio, and Jon startles, his hand retreating back to his lap reflexively. “What?”

 Tim’s eyes remain on the road, but Jon can see the tension in him, in the way his hands grip the wheel firmly and his mouth flattens into a thin line. “Just say whatever it is you need to say. Might as well. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

 Jon winces slightly at the flatness in Tim’s voice, at the way he sounds just- just indifferent. It cuts worse than any anger or frustration. At least those meant that Tim was still feeling something toward him, no matter how negative. Now, Tim just sounds tired. Resigned.

 “I was…” Jon swallows and looks down at his hands so he doesn’t have to see Tim’s face. “I was thinking about the time we went to the coast together, to follow up on that case about the mermaid.”

 Tim makes a sound that might be a laugh if it weren’t so humorless. “Yeah, I remember,” he says, and maybe Jon’s imagining the hint of wistfulness in his voice, looking for something that isn’t there. “Turned out to be nonsense, but it…”

 Tim’s hands tighten on the wheel for a moment before going slack, his face twisting into something pained. “It was nice,” he says, so quietly Jon almost doesn’t catch it. “You, er. You had a lot to say about harbor seals.”

 Jon flushes and rubs one thumb over the other—a nervous tic of his, one that leads to dry and cracked skin if he isn’t careful. “Yes, well. Growing up by the sea tends to foster an interest in marine wildlife. And, er. Well. Nobody else ever seemed interested, in- in the topic.” A pause. Jon worries his bottom lip between his teeth and says, “I miss our conversations.”

 “Jon,” Tim says. It’s a warning and a plea and a refusal all wrapped into a single word. And Jon should just leave it at that—let them pass the rest of the time in silence, like they’ve been doing for months.

 Instead, he says, “I’m sorry, Tim. For- for everything.”

 “Please, just- not now,” Tim says, his voice growing sharp around the edges even as the core retains that same weariness Jon’s grown accustomed to.

 He hates it. He hates that Tim doesn’t tell jokes anymore, that Tim doesn’t smile wide and easy and greet Jon with a ghosting hand across Jon’s upper back, that Tim’s shoulders sag ever so slightly as he walks like he’s bearing the weight of the world. He hates that it’s his fault.

 “Then when?” Jon says, that same sharpness bleeding into the words against his will. “After this is all over? We might not—”

 We might not make it out alive, his mind supplies. But the words stick in his throat. Instead, he says, “Just. You don’t have to say anything, just- just listen. I- I don’t expect forgiveness.” Jon pauses, then says, softer, “It’s not my right to ask for it.”

 Tim’s quiet for a long moment. The radio is playing something upbeat, a pop song that Jon’s never heard but that sounds exactly like the rest of the music the station has been supplying. Jon wants to turn it off; it grates on his nerves, makes every second feel like an eternity.

 He doesn’t. Somehow, he thinks silence—true silence—might be worse.

 “Okay,” Tim says finally, his eyes still fixed on the road. “Just- just please don’t say you’re sorry. I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

 “Right,” Jon says. His fingers go to the hem of his shirt, fiddling with the fabric. There’s a loose thread there, and without thinking, he pulls it. It spirals out, making a neat line in the fabric where the weave falls out of line that Jon won’t be able to smooth out again.

 He doesn’t know what to say. What can he say? He can’t mend what’s broken, can’t unpull the thread that’s tugged them out of sync. In less than a day, they’ll be in the museum, and Jon’s skin will be crawling with the memory of ropes tight around his wrists and plastic fingers coated with lotion touching him over and over and over, and they’ll be executing a plan that Jon can’t shake the feeling will go horribly, terribly wrong. They have so little time. Never enough time.

 So, Jon says instead, “I remember when we first met. I- I don’t know if you do, it- it was very brief, and you seemed quite occupied with whatever case you were researching, but I- I remember. You were, uh. You were wearing that olive green shirt you like, the- the one with the buttons that look like flowers. You were distraught when you ripped the sleeve on that barbed wire fence when we, uh, broke into the—”

 Jon cuts off with a small laugh. “I suppose our research tactics were quite unorthodox. And more than a little illegal at times. But when I got excited about a case and decided to pursue it in a more, er, thorough capacity, you were always there. I- I don’t think I ever told you, but that was the first time I realized how much I’d grown to like you. You, lamenting about how you’d had that shirt for years, so- so dramatic about the whole situation. And I spent a frankly embarrassing amount of time finding another one just like it, an even more embarrassing amount of time figuring out how to give it to you without coming across as- as weird or what have you. But you just smiled and took it, and- and maybe it’s silly, but I think that’s when I…”

 Jon doesn’t say when I started to fall in love with you. But from the pinched look on Tim’s face, he knows he doesn’t have to.

 It’s like Jon’s there again, the weight of Tim’s smile making his pulse flutter hummingbird-fast in his throat, his voice slipping into the stutter he tried so hard to hide at work so that he came across as professional. He practically thrust the shirt into Tim’s hands, his cheeks burning as he did so. And Tim’s thank you, so genuine and surprised and happy, had dragged a smile of Jon’s own to his face.

 Tim had liked making Jon flustered—had made it a game, figuring out what he could say to make Jon smile or laugh or flush so deeply it was visible against his skin. Jon didn’t understand why some of the things he said made Tim smile in return or press a quick kiss to Jon’s lips or give Jon a soft I love you that still made Jon’s pulse quicken no matter how many times Tim said it. But it didn’t matter, because Tim understood him.

 Jon misses Tim so much he can hardly breathe, even after everything. His words come out slightly choked when he says, “I remember when you would bring me lunches because you knew I would forget to eat sometimes if I got caught up in my work. And- and when you went to that shop that had a cat and you sent me- Christ, so many pictures, it- it was really quite excessive.” Quieter, Jon says, “And when you brought me to that park with the lights, and- and you told me that you loved me.”

 “Jon,” Tim says. It comes out tense, like somebody who’s trying very hard to keep their emotions in check.

 “I know,” Jon says, pulling and pulling at the thread on his shirt until the fabric is bunched up completely and utterly ruined. I miss you. I love you. I’m sorry. “I… I know.”

 Tim’s quiet for another long moment. Then, he exhales heavily, like he’d been holding his breath, and moves one hand from the wheel to the center console, palm up.

 Tim’s hand is warm in his. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps his eyes trained on the road, even as his fingers twine with Jon’s in a practiced motion that’s still as easy as breathing.

 Jon spends the rest of the car ride memorizing the feel of Tim’s hand in his, the shape of his fingers and the soft skin of his palm, and tries very hard not to think about the way it feels like a goodbye.

[creativeashproductions]

In the Beginning // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: Reggie (Rhodes)’s older sister is the epitome of cool in his, and his friends, eyes with her in a band. Pushed by a hazel eyed brunette with a huge crush on the eldest Rhodes teen the boys decide to start a band. While at first the band is for Luke’s dream of landing you he finds his passion with music.

Warning: Swearing, angst, fluff, dad!Luke

Words: 4.1k

A/N: I couldn’t resist writing another alive!Luke fic with Luke crushing on his band mate’s sister. Ugh, just imagine Luke suggesting a band to impress his crush only to fall in love with music instead.  For my fics it will be Alex Mitchell and Reggie Rhodes until JATP reveals their canon names. 

Masterlist

Los Angeles, 1992

The guitar case was a familiar heaviness as you walked into the home for the first time in months after a practice. You ached from the long travel, and all you wanted was your bed. The yawn came first, then the startled yell at the living room.

Four pairs of eyes met the girl standing in the entryway, surprised at a sleepover with her brother and his full friends. Eyebrows coming together you shook your head wondering why they had come here instead of the typical Patterson home.

“Hey!” Fourteen-year-old Reggie beamed towards his older sister excited she was back from her weekend band practice. Your eyes blinked at his usual upbeat personality before switching to the brown eyes from Bobby, too shy to full meet yours.

Spread around the living room watching a movie was Reggie’s best friends; the socially awkward Alex, the shy Bobby, and the Patterson boy Luke. The young typically spent their time at Luke’s place, so seeing them in your home was strange.

“Reg, what’s up?” You asked crouching to untie your shoes confused at the sharp audible gasp coming from Luke. Standing straight up, you saw Luke awkwardly looking away with bright red cheeks.

“How was practice?” Reggie inquired with the smile he got from your mom and his dark hair from your dad.

Reggie usually wasn’t interested in your band leading you to wonder what the hell was going on with them. Being sixteen you didn’t socialize with Reggie’s friends, thanks to the two year age gap, but you were happy he had good friends. Well, less than two years between you and Luke.

“It was good. Since when are you interested in Crimson Queen?” You questioned moving more into the room with the four young teens, “You haven’t even touched your bass in years.”

One eyebrow raised you individually looked at the boys in the room all with sheets of paper around them. From a distance, you couldn’t tell what was on them, but it couldn’t be homework. They all attended the same high school while you had done correspondence with the band and a tutor.

“Luke’s parents got him a guitar,” Reggie spoke gesturing to the decent brand new acoustic guitar on the floor beside the Patterson. Luke’s hazel eyes widening as you came closer to the group.

Your hand picking up the guitar to look it over finding it was decent for a beginner, but it was definitely not tuned. The sheer sound made you wince.

“So, you guys want to be a band?” You questioned sitting on the floor beside Luke. The boy shifting nervously, you weren’t blind that he got shy around girls, “Do you guys even play instruments?”

“I got the bass, Bobby can play rhythm guitar, Alex plays dru-“

“I wouldn’t call it proper drumming. It’s just something my therapist suggested with my anxiety and frustrations.” Alex raised his hand leading to everyone in the room looking at the tall male, recently had a growth spurt, with the backward black hat.

“And Luke will learn guitar as well.” You added, looking at the quiet, “How well can you play?”

“I don’t even know how to properly tune it,” Luke admitted playing with his fingers adorned with a ring.

Luke had chosen a cutoff shirt in an attempt to gain your attention to his arms he hoped had gotten more muscled. He had a massive crush on you but with the guys your own age he had step up; he started working out. He actually enjoyed it, but he’d enjoy it more if you were checking him out.

“You’ll need a place to practice.” You mumbled glancing out the window at the ocean waves thinking. The house was on the prime real estate edge of the beach all thanks to your well off parents; Dad, a doctor and Mom, an interior designer.

Your fingers tapped on the ripped blue jeans you had chosen that day with the flannel shirt opened over the black AC/DC t-shirt. You started standing up, grabbing Luke’s hand to pull him up as well; the boy’s cheeks grew pinker, and his heart fluttered.

“What?” Luke spluttered, staring at his hand, caught in yours in sheer awe.

“You’ll need a place to practice.” You answered, dropping is head to reach in your pocket for your key chain.

The key chain had a few keys on it: one for home, one for your car, one for the band van for gigs, one for the garage, and lastly one for the house the garage belonged to. The boys piled into the car, apprehensive for where you were taking them. The only sound was the radio playing local greatest hits, your foot slammed on the brake at the house of your bassist.

“Well Marty, this song has blown up on the charts. New band Crimson-“

“Holy shit.” You breathed staring at the radio. Your door opened as you sprinted down to the steps that led to the garage. The footsteps of the boys following.

The garage was open already with your band members lounging around the space filled with instruments and amps. Their heads swivelling as you frantic turned the radio on.

“Come on.” You mumbled, turning the radio station to the right one, “Guys listen!”

“-Crimson Queen is an LA-based band making waves in the LA Nightlife and hit the top ten with their newest song Sorry Now.” The radio host spoke, “If you haven’t heard the song before, this is the band’s new single.”

The song was blasted from the radio leading to the four girls screaming the song out dancing around the room. Euphoria was the only way you could call the feeling rising in the bodies of the girls in the place. The room burst into more screams as your drummer. Faith switched the radio station.

“Today history was made, Crimson Queen is an all-female rock band fronted by Y/N Rhodes. They started as a hobby at fifteen, but a year later at sixteen they’ve made waves.” A hit radio station, the second one so far, was talking about your band. Holy shit.

“Lucy, this band is going places. My daughter is seven years old, and she’s telling me this band is the talk of her school. I can’t tell how much Lucy listens to their demo.”

Your eyes saw Reggie having a meltdown of excitement for older sister and her band, and you were so unbelievably happy you should care the moment. You rushed over to Reggie to pull him into a hug.

“Girls…and boys.” Mrs Taylor spoke furrowing her brows at the young boys in the garage her daughter had begged to use for the band. Shaking her head, the middle-aged woman turned her attention to her daughter.

“Hey, Ma.” Dawn, your bassist, spoke spreading her pink painted lips to her perfectly straight teeth too hyped up on energy, “What’s up?”

“First congratulations on the single. Secondly, we’re gonna need to get a personal line for the band because our phone is blowing up.”

A sharp gasp from Dawn before the three of the four girls rushed to the house of the Taylor’s. You hung back to look at your brother and his band.

“So? What do you think?” You inquired with the group, “This idea of yours has to be one hundred percent what you want. It won’t be easy in LA, it will come with hardships, and Reggie Mom and Dad won’t let you drop out.”

The four boys nodded their heads because the excitement they saw in your big break was something they wanted. To be able to connect with people cemented their decision.

“Feel free to hang around.” You suggested glancing around the garage that started it all, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

The Orpheum, Los Angeles, 1995

The crowd screamed as Crimson Queen, the song that started this road played with the girl crouching to grasp the hand of fans. At the beat of the chorus, you stood up eating up the energy of the last show of the tour. You went jumped on the drum riser rocking on the guitar as Faith did her magic.

Dawn on her bass made her way to rock with your rhythm guitarist Sara sharing grins with you still feeling the euphoria of this success. As the song came to an end, your entire band went to the front of the stage.

“We’d like to thank our fans for the last nine months of our world tour. We started this band in LA in 1991, so we thought it fit to end our tour at The Orpheum.” You spoke to the crowd, feeding off the energy as the concert came to an end.

The road crew would load your instruments up in the van to take home after months of travelling. You were so excited to see Reggie, who would be seventeen now, having celebrated his birthday while you had been in Europe. Too excited were shocked as Reggie backstage.

“Reggie!” You exclaimed tugging the teen into your arms, leaning back to take him in, “Damn you grew!”

Reggie grinned not giving a shit you were coated in sweat from performing your setlist, but your eyes went over his shoulder. Standing close and just as excited was Reggie’s friends. Alex was taller, Bobby looked more confident, and Luke could meet your eyes. Luke also had changed, no longer baby faced.

“Sunset Curve.” You spoke, stepping back to look them over, “I haven’t seen you guys in months, how did you change so much!”

“That’s what happens when you go on tour for almost a year.” Luke teased tugging you into his arms for a tight hug.

It was odd seeing Luke taller and more muscled than when you left for tour, and the confidence was honestly hot. You had seen Luke as anything other than your brother’s friend, who tended to stare a little too long.

“You played the fucking Orpheum!” Alex screamed, holding your shoulders with a wrinkled nose at the damp red thin flannel shirt. The girls wandered up behind you each with a grin at the guys.

“Well if it isn��t Sunset Swerve,” Sara spoke swinging her arm over your shoulder with a teasing smirk plastered on her face. Her blonde hair swept up in a bun high on her head from a recent shower.

“Sunset Curve!” The male quartet snapped at the name before they fell back into a happy demeanour. Luke and you both staring at each other with a pink-hued face.

Faith was quieter in the group leaning closer to your band to whisper in your ear, “Jay scored us some drinks. But MJ got us into a party.” Faith’s textured hair tickling your neck.

Grins split the three girls at the suggestion each excited for the party with fellow musicians and plus ones. Sure, the parties had drugs and alcohol, but they were fun and part of the scene. Half of you wanted to go, but the other wanted to spend time with your brother.

“I’ll think I’ll pass.” You spoke up to the girls motioning to the guys, “I’ll head back with them. Meet you at the house later?”

Your black vans moving backwards as you moved to be closer to be flush against Reggie’s side grinning as he bumped his hip against you. Sara, Faith and Dawn each raising an eyebrow at your response since you often dragged them to parties.

“Orrr…we could each take one of them.” Faith cajoled mocha skin gleaming in the light with her hands, tugging her hair into a thick braid.

“You want me to take my seventeen-year-old brother and his friends-“

“-I’m like two weeks from being eighteen-” Luke cut into the conversation buzzing at the possible date, but not date, with the girl he had been crushing on for years. He was pretty sure he was in love with you at this point; he did date a little, but nothing stuck.

“-To a party in Hollywood.” You finished pinning your gaze on the three girls ahead each with mischievous grins. Your cheeks puffed as you breathed out, thinking of the positives and negatives.

Bobby was bouncing on his heels with Reggie leaving Alex shifting uncomfortably in his place. His partially relaxed when Luke squeezed his forearm through the distressed black jean jacket that bought his outfit together. Luke himself was apprehensive on your decision because either way, he got to spend time with you.

“Come on.” Dawn implored, pulling out the big guns with her ocean blue eyes widening into the puppy gaze that did you in each time. Her curtain of short dyed pink hair framing her heart-shaped face.

“I’m going to pass this time. Do some shots for me! Not tequila though, that was a huge mistake.” Faith’s grin widened at having you carry you out of the house in the early morning after a wicked party.

“Did you ever find your tho-“

“Faith!” You hissed turning a bright red at her revelation that you definitely didn’t want Reggie to know. The atmosphere turned awkward as everyone realized what the sentence would end with.

Okay so maybe you had hooked up with a few people over the last three years but nothing permanent. It was fun, drunk fun, but still fun and nothing had gone wrong. Your eyes avoided looking at Luke for a reason you couldn’t decipher.

“I’ll see you later.” You spoke motioning for the guys to follow you to the dressing room you had settled in early in the day. The corner of your lips quirked at the awe on each of the boys’ faces.

“I’m in the dressing where bands become legends.” Reggie gasped circling the room with wide-eyed interest. Alex was interested in the band posters on the walls from previous performers.

Luke, however, was more interested in your curves covered by your sweaty stage clothing that stuck to your form. His Adam’s apple gulped as you grabbed your shower bag moving towards the connected bathroom.

“I’ll grab a shower, and we can head out.” You supplied, “I’ll just need to stop at Rudy’s office for our portion of the concert.”

The guys mumbled a response finding a place to wait without hushed conversations of when they would get to play. Luke’s eyes found yours at the low call of his name from the bathroom; a crack opened he walked over.

“Do you have a sweater?” You mumbled at the taller teen with widening eyes as he realized that you were naked behind the door.

Luke stumbled over his feet, retrieving the black pullover Crimson Queen merch he had had for months now. He had saved up money to buy the merch to support the band. The door closed as you tugged the sweater in the bathroom momentarily before walking out.

“Thanks Lu. I forget to pack a shirt.” Luke awed as your nose scrunched up adorably to the amusement of his friends, “So, do you wanna hit the beach? Or maybe give me a concert in the garage?”

Luke intertwined his fingers in yours as he tugged you out of the room with your bag in hand. His heart fluttered as you held on to his hand even in the little office of the Orpheum’s management for the thick envelope of money.

“Thanks, Rudy!” You called over your shoulder at the short, stout man going over the financials and upcoming performances.

The smell of Sunset Boulevard brought a smile remembering the first time you performed and the small group that had waited outside. The first night of autographs and recognition.

“So, Reg how’s my car?” You questioned the teen who impishly grinned tugging the key chain from his black jeans. You had given him the keys when you revealed Crimson Queen had a world tour.

“Right there.” Reggie pointed leading the group of five to the car that would take them to the garage. Reggie drove with Alex in the passenger while you were crammed between Bobby and Luke; Luke was delighted in your warmth against his side.

While your band members partied, you got a first-row seating to Sunset Curve’s talent in the garage where you had started out. It was amazing to see how much they had accomplished in the three years since they started.

The sudden knock on the door had you flailing off the couch onto the floor with a sheet of paper stuck to your cheek. Your spine cracked as you sat up glancing at your watch, finding it was after midnight, only an hour of sleep after inspiration for a new song.

The door was knocked on once more and coming close the sound of crying could be heard, and you wondered if it was Luke. He had been over a few days in the night following a fight with his parents and needed to crash; helped you were giving dating a chance after his well-rehearsed speech.

Imagine your shock when it was Reggie sobbing, “Reggie.”

“C-can I stay here?” Reggie whimpered cuddling himself into the leather jacket he received at Christmas from you. You had inside in your arms in moments, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Are they fighting again?” You murmured to your younger brother content to hold him as he cried. Bringing him to the living room, you held him as he cried humming under your breath the first song you ever let him see.

“Yeah. The music doesn’t work anymore.” Reggie murmured leaning back to wipe his tears off, “Sorry for crashing. I can go stay with-“

“Here. Reginald, you can always stay here.” You soothed the seventeen-year-old boy with sad eyes and a sombre look. His sad eyes shattered your heart, knowing he had suffered the fighting for months alone, “This house is empty Reg. You can move in here.”

His lip quirked up, “Can we play country music?”

“And eat breakfast at night.” You teased him grinning as his lips pulled up into his trademark grin, “The guys can come over whenever they want. I’d actually prefer they know they can stay here, they deserve a safe place to stay.”

You knew that Alex endured living with his parents, who had gone out of their way to avoid him after he came out. Luke couch surfed at your old house, never at Alex’s home; after coming out, Alex didn’t feel comfortable bringing anyone over.

“Good, because they’re outside.” Reggie sheepishly admitted raising his thumbs-up, “Go thinking ahead!”

Snorting the human version of a golden retriever you opened the front door to the house finding two guys in strange positions. Alex was inspecting the light fixture, and Luke was leaning against the wall with his elbow, foot across the other.

“You guys need lessons in the art of pretending you weren’t eavesdropping.” The sigh fell stepping aside for the two to enter the home—each carrying a backpack and small duffle bag for wherever they would have crashed.

The male trio got comfortable in the living room curiously glancing at the mess of papers, sticky notes and pencils. While with good intentions, they didn’t follow boundaries well, even for Alex.

“Whatcha working on?” Luke inquired, leaning closer to a sheet of paper. His pout coming over his face when you quickly tidied up the papers.

“Nothing. I fell asleep on the couch. The label wants new songs.” You groaned rubbing your eyes, “I got inspired last night. Oh! Hey, I took a message for you guys.”

Jogging to your office studio for the band you quickly grabbed the envelope along with the note that you had been given.

“So, Rudy called me, and I had a meeting with him.” You started sitting on the coffee table in front of the trio. The trio leaned forward.

“Rudy?” Luke questioned, pursing his lips together at the male name. While you and Luke were dating it wasn’t official, he was just really nervous with his dream girl liking him back.

“He’s the management for a venue. He asked if our band was available for a concert, but we collectively decided to focus on songs and recording, which you can’t tell anyone about, but he’s in dire need. So, I might have given him something. Specifically a demo of yours and knowing your home situations I gave my information.”

“Okay…so?” Alex questioned, leaning forward. His eyes growing wide as you pushed the envelope in his hand.

Alex quickly opened the cream envelope finding inside a paper along with a mock-up promo poster with Sunset Curve. The squeal was shocking from the teenager as he read the letter and note out loud.

Y/N,

I gave the demo a listen, and we usually wouldn’t do this, but Crimson Queen has been gracious with us. Always mentioning where the band got its start and closing the tour here. To repay the favour, we would formally like to invite Sunset Curve to perform. In the envelope is a mock-up poster as an option for the promo. Get the Sunset Curve’s people to get in touch. I can get the word out to some friends from some labels to come for a listen. Get in touch as soon as possible.

Manager of The Orpheum in Los Angeles,

Rudy West.

 “The Orpheum?” Luke screamed, yanking the paper from Alex to re-read it in complete shock, “We don’t have people!”

“But Crimson does.” You smirked, “On a temporary basis Crimson Queen formally offer our manager’s help.”

In his excitement, Luke lunged to pull you into a kiss freezing the room in shock.

“He got the girl.” Alex breathed elbowing Reggie in the side who’s mouth was open at his best friend kissing Reggie’s older sister. The older sister who was the driving force behind Luke wanting to form a band to impress her, “We need to tell Bobby!”

1995 was the best year for Luke Patterson. He got the girl, his band made it, his parents finally saw his dream was worth it.

The sound of music hypnotized the woman as she wandered down the hall to the open door of the large home. Nothing too over the top like Bobby’s mansion, but it was a nice size in a gated area. Your neighbours being Reggie on one side and Alex on the other side with his partner Willie; Willie had skated into Alex and into a love story pretty much.

Resting against the door edge of the designated home studio you saw Luke had moved a rocking recliner in. Softly playing in the room was a soft acoustic song recorded months previous as a surprise for you.

“When are the lessons starting?” You questioned bringing Luke’s attention to your soft smile and the love in your eyes. Luke’s grin widened glancing down at the miniature version of his love-filled eyes.

“Given her legendary parents, I think at two.” Luke chuckled shuffling the baby to the crook of his arm shifting, so you could curl into his side as well. Both eyes gazing at the little baby you had welcomed what felt like yesterday.

Stevie could fall asleep only to the lullaby her father had created during the pregnancy, and he had written. Stevie had Luke’s eyes, and so far her blonde hair had yet to darken so the question of if she’d take after your hair or his hair was unanswered.

“Hey sweetheart.” You whispered to your daughter falling asleep to the sound of her father’s voice in the room. An adorable yawn pulled from her little body as she nestled into Luke’s arms.

“She’s so gorgeous.” Luke breathed tears welling up as he could understand the reasoning behind his parents’ opinions in his teens. He truly felt terrible at hurting his mom now that he felt the love for his child.

“We did good Patterson.” You murmured back to the man who had held your heart since you were nineteen and back from tour. Your finger tracing Steve’s soft cheek, “I think she has your mom’s mouth.”

Luke’s lips lingered on your cheek heart full of love for his family with you and his little girl. He had known since his eleventh birthday he would marry you even if you were a year older. A year that made the difference when he was months older than his friends, so the year felt like two for you. At eighteen when was tentatively dating you, he knew he would marry you. He never anticipated the sheer amount of adoration for the little girl he would have at twenty-one.

God, he loved his life. He made up with his parents, his best friends, had the girl of his dreams, the most beautiful daughter and it all thanks to music. Can you see why he lives and breathes music?

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[jaskiersvalley]

I absolutely love your writing!! It's so very enjoyable and your au's are absolutely delightful. I just thought you should know.

Thank you so much, Nonnie! AUs are something I really enjoy and to hear that others find them fun makes me so very happy. As a little thank you, here’s another AU feat Kaer Morhen Radio and a Jaskier driving an 18 wheeler.

Life was a lonely one on the road. There were many acquaintances and other drivers Jaskier had a passing friendship with, Valdo Marx had the annoying habit of having similar routes to him - they did say mimicry was the highest form of compliment. Alas, nobody was a steady presence in Jaskier’s life. Well, nobody who was aware of him. Though there was the Kaer Morhen Radio family. They were the closest Jaskier had to everyday friends, as sad as that sounded.

“Good morning fuckheads.” Such a declaration could only mean it was 6am and Lambert had taken over. Instinctively, Jaskier was smiling as he sat up with a yawn. Most radio stations liked to gently rouse listeners with swelling music that got more up beat as the day went on. Not Kaer Morhen Radio. They had Lambert as their morning DJ, there to wake sensitive ears in more and more creative ways. He had become known for his unique way to wake listeners up; from bringing in pots to bang to trying to imitate the mating call of a moose at full volume. The only thing listeners loved more than Lambert being a general prick was his flirtation with Aiden who did weather and traffic announcements.

“And, in those four famous words: and now, the weather,” Lambert announced gleefully. After a long moment of silence, he snickered. “We shall have to give Aiden a moment to climb out from under the desk and rinse his mouth. In the mean time, here’s a banger.”

The banger, Jaskier was surprised to find, was quite literally a recording of someone (possibly Lambert) attempting to play drums (badly) on some kitchen pots. By the time the piece reached its rather boisterous end, it seemed that Aiden was no longer preoccupied.

“The weather today-” Jaskier tuned Aiden’s words out in favour of figuring out whether he was messing around or whether he really did sound so husky and gravelly thanks to having his throat fucked. It was quite the conundrum and Jaskier spent the start of his morning drive wondering how many complaints Lambert and Aiden will get now. Their record was 36 for the game of “identify that noise” wherein they stuck their fingers in various containers and made them squelch. To that day, nobody knew whether the last one really was, in Lambert’s words, “Aiden’s well used hole and my come”.

Afternoons were much more peaceful. Eskel took over at 2pm and he was laid back, played soothing music and gave the impression of being a very calm and reliable member of society. Jaskier always maintained it was an impression because, among all the chat, Eskel would sometimes drop a strange little fact that made him do a double take or two.

“This next song,” Eskel had once said, “was written while under the influence of cocaine.” It was a reasonable enough fact to share, Jaskier had been listening while stuck in a traffic jam along a motorway. “How they managed to write it though, I have no idea. Cocaine is terrible for your focus, I could barely scratch an itch before being distracted by something else. So kudos to the writers for creating a whole song while off their face.”

Which was something Jaskier had never thought Eskel would know anything about. He always seemed to demure, the solid rock of Kaer Morhen Radio. He balanced out Yennefer’s news updates perfectly. It was probably why Jaskier liked him so much, now that he thought of it. The surface innocence mixed in with hints of a very colourful life lived beneath the steady exterior. Well, hints other than the incident where Eskel somehow managed to not turn his microphone off and had a conversation about going to a rave with someone who worked at the radio station. Nobody knew the man’s name and his answers were half muffled but listeners swore they heard him suggest something along the lines of a collar and leash - which Eskel had hummed in agreement to, sounding all too happy. When questioned, Eskel resolutely refused to name the mystery man but conceded that there had been a rave. Jury was out whether Eskel had grumbled about being ‘in ecstasy’ or ‘on ecstasy’ for it. And there was definitely a picture of floating around the internet of him in a collar at what definitely looked like an underground rave.

The real reason Jaskier listened to Kaer Morhen Radio was the late night DJ. 10pm on the dot, Eskel would flick the switch and a prerecorded intro played, announcing that it was Late Late Nights with Geralt. Between 10pm and 6am, Geralt manned the station. The only reason Jaskier knew his name was because of the intro. Otherwise the man was silent other than a few hums between songs. Sometimes, presumably when he knocked something over, there would be a growled “fuck” that listeners lived for.

As little as Geralt said, Jaskier was in love. The music was eclectic and death metal could be followed up by electro swing or grime. There was to way to predict just what Geralt would play next, he didn’t take requests, didn’t talk to his listeners. But, somehow, he still drew them in. Jaskier had made the mistake of looking Geralt up online and swooned a little at the few pictures available. It seemed Geralt was an elusive man, somehow managing to turn away from cameras with an uncanny ability. Though a few pictures did exist of Lambert and Eskel on either side of him, quite literally holding him down for a photo.

Truthfully, Geralt was one of the main reasons Jaskier chose to do overnight hauls. Not only did they pay better, he also had Geralt’s nonverbal grunts and hmms to look forward to. He was well aware that it was an infatuation and nothing more. He’d never met Geralt before, Geralt wasn’t even aware of his existence. So, really, Jaskier could daydream all he wanted but had no intention of doing anything more.

Except, Jaskier couldn’t help but wonder. Geralt had such range in his musical taste, maybe he would like what Jaskier wrote. It was a rare night off and Jaskier was well into the bottle with Valdo when they got talking, egging each other on about who was the better musician. It ended with Jaskier drunkenly posting a CD of his music to Kaer Morhen Radio, addressed for Geralt. When he woke up in the morning, on the floor next to his couch which was occupied by Valdo, Jaskier groaned.

Thankfully, there was never a mention or even a single note of his music in the next week. Slowly, Jaskier relaxed, only a little disappointed that his music hadn’t even been acknowledged by Geralt. He almost had a heart attack when eight days later, Lambert came on air with a mad cackle.

“Morning fuckheads!” Lambert sounded more cheery than ever before. “You’ll never guess what I found. Geralt has been hoarding new music. Good music. Said it was for him. Well, I have decided he cannot hold this back from us. If you’re listening, Jaskier, your note was hilarious. I hope your hangover was worth it. Thanks for the CD!”

There was a growl that sounded like Geralt storming into the booth but the microphone was cut and Jaskier’s song started playing. Jaskier almost crashed his truck in shock. Especially when Lambert declared it so good, they would play it again and, sure enough, the song went back to the beginning to play twice in a row.

If it had just been Lambert, Jaskier would have quietly died of shame, accepting that he was being mocked. But Eskel got in on it too. That afternoon he introduced Jaskier’s song with the promise that management were looking into getting in touch with him about the music. Even worse, a listener even requested the song later that evening. Jaskier was both in heaven and hell at the same time. That night, Geralt didn’t play his song and Jaskier was only a little disappointed.

His phone rang the next day.

“Good afternoon, my name is Vesemir, I’m calling from Kaer Morhen Radio. May I speak to Jaskier?”

Jaskier promptly choked. He got an invitation to the studio. It was a good seven days of driving away and Jaskier searched for a contract that would take him across the continent. While he drove, he got a bit braver and started e-mailing the radio station on his breaks.

His written request for songs were acknowledged by a hum and the song coming on next. When he asked Geralt for a shout out, he got obnoxious pop music playing instead. So Jaskier asked for two hums if Geralt wanted to meet and three if he didn’t. Thus, there was a “fuck” on air and the Beauty and the Beast theme song started playing. It was safe to say Jaskier didn’t understand it but he wasn’t deterred.

By the time Jaskier got into town and made his delivery, it was almost 6am. There was no time he had been specifically invited for and he ended up approaching the building at the same time Lambert showed up with Aiden and three large cups of coffee in hand.

“Excuse me,” he called out, “I’m here to see Vesemir.”

“Bit early for that.”

“He never gave me a time so I figured an early start would be appreciated.” It wasn’t exactly a lie but Jaskier kind of wanted to meet Geralt who would be finishing up soon.

For some bizarre reason, Jaskier was led into the radio studio, no questions asked. Surely it was a security issue but then again, Jaskier checked out Lambert and Aiden, they would no doubt be able to handle any issues. Then there was Geralt, stepping out of the booth, Lambert’s intro queued up. He froze when he spotted Jaskier and, curiously, glanced away, seemingly all shy. The curious response was explained away all too soon. There, on the wall, was Jaskier’s CD and a polaroid of him and Valdo, helpfully labeled “The Talent” with an arrow to Jaskier and “The Fake” pointing at Valdo.

“You here for Vesemir?” Geralt asked eventually, sipping at one of the cups Lambert had brought.

“Amongst other things,” Jaskier replied.

“He won’t be here until 10. Why don’t we go grab breakfast while you wait?”

Aiden wolf whistled at that and Lambert whooped, arms in the air.

“My dear fuckheads,” he purred into the microphone, “we have a date between our local cryptid and our mystery siren. Please wish them luck.”

It turned out that, in person, Geralt was a bit more talkative than on air. And Jaskier helped fill any silence without any problems. He ended up being later than planned to meet Vesemir and Tissaia who had a very handsome cheque for him for playing his music and also his phone number with the promise of passing it on to some connections who had expressed an interest in his music.

Never before had Jaskier thought he would thank Valdo Marx for anything. But, one drinking session with him had landed Jaskier with not only a contract with a record label but also a boyfriend. With his first pay, Jaskier send Valdo the biggest bouquet of flowers humanly possible.

[dweemeister]

Oklahoma! (1955)

Composer Richard Rodgers was in search of a new songwriting partner in the early 1940s. His previous partner, the lyricist Lorenz Hart, was devolving into an alcoholism that would soon claim his life. Wanting to transform Lynn Riggs’ rustic play Green Grow the Lilacs into a musical, Rodgers would find a new lyricist in Oscar Hammerstein II, who had not been involved in any Broadway successes for some time. Rodgers and Hammerstein’s 1943 adaptation of Rigg’s play was Oklahoma! and – despite widespread predictions that Broadway audiences would only flock to modern, urbane works – it became the longest-running Broadway musical for another dozen or so years. It began one of the most fruitful, important, and accomplished musical theater partnerships in the medium’s history.

Interest in a cinematic treatment from Hollywood’s major studios for the first Rodgers and Hammerstein musical came almost immediately after the initial reviews for Oklahoma!, but the rights went not to a movie studio, but a film equipment start-up known as the Magna Theatre Corporation. Magna’s owners intended Oklahoma! as a test for the Todd-AO widescreen process (a rival to Cinerama), but more on that and the film’s unique distribution history – which involves RKO and 20th Century Fox – later. Most importantly, the lack of studio executives to appease meant that Rodgers and Hammerstein could have full control over the film’s structure and musical/narrative changes for this adaptation. Directed by Fred Zinnemann (1952’s High Noon, 1953’s From Here to Eternity) – an unorthodox choice, given his expertise for morally complex dramas and no musical experience – 1955’s Oklahoma! is a harbinger for the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical films to come, and an inextricable part of the duo’s legacy.

Somewhere in the Oklahoman countryside, amid corn as high as an elephant’s eye, is the clean-cut cowboy Curly McLain (Gordon MacRae). Curly is en route to the farmstead of his crush, Laurey Williams (Shirley Jones in her cinematic debut), and Laurey’s aunt, Aunt Eller (Charlotte Greenwood). There, Curly invites Laurey to the box social scheduled for later that evening. Annoyed that it took him this long to ask her out, Laurey decides instead to go the box social with the Williams’ antisocial and intimidating farmhand, Jud Fry (Rod Steiger). Elsewhere at the train station, another cowboy, Will Parker (Gene Nelson) might be singing about how much he was entranced by Kansas City, but he is searching for his sweetheart, Ado Annie (Gloria Grahame) – herself entranced by traveling salesman Ali Hakim (Eddie Albert in brownface).

No members of the original Broadway cast reprised their roles for this film, which also stars Barbara Lawrence and character actors James Whitmore, Jay C. Flippen, and Roy Barcroft.

As Curly, MacRae is like a Broadway stage version of the characters Gene Autry or Roy Rogers might have played in another decade. MacRae, who started his career as a Broadway and radio singer, had just run down the end of his contract with Warner Bros. (signed in 1947) when he appeared in Oklahoma!. At Warners, he starred in a number of musicals including Look for the Silver Lining (1949) and opposite Doris Day in On Moonlight Bay (1951), but he had only starred in a film adaptation of stage musical once before. MacRae, despite a long hiatus from the Broadway stage, is a natural here: charming and exuding a natural chemistry with co-star Shirley Jones. This exterior, however, is not without malice – as seen in the scene where Curly tries to influence Jud to commit self-harm. Cut from the same baritone cloth like contemporary Howard Keel (Frank Butler in 1950’s Annie Get Your Gun, Adam Pontipee in 1954’s Seven Brides for Seven Brothers), MacRae never achieved the popularity that other stage-to-screen musical stars of the ‘30s and ‘40s did (and, of course, Julie Andrews much later on).

The film’s surprise package for audiences in 1955 was in Shirley Jones. Jones, rather than subjecting herself to a vetting process by a director, casting director, or studio executives, was hand-picked by Rodgers and Hammerstein. Stunned by her 1953 audition for the premiere of South Pacific but wanting more experience for the then-nineteen-year-old, the songwriting duo kept Jones in mind for future productions and signed her on a contract (Jones was the first and only singer to be contracted to Rodgers and Hammerstein). With a few years of Broadway productions under her belt, Jones still came to Oklahoma! lacking an understanding on how to tailor sharper emotions to a film camera. With Fred Zinnemann’s assistance, she navigates Laurey’s light romantic comedy scenes and tumultuous friendship (if one can call it that) with Jud maturely – one could scarcely believe this is her cinematic debut. For Laurey, she accentuates the character’s naïveté, especially in respect to how she acts around men and romantic idealizations, without feeling grating or overacting (a common problem when approaching characters without much life experience) the part. Jones’ excellence in Oklahoma! would land her the lead in Carousel (1956), with other Hollywood hits in Elmer Gantry (1960) and The Music Man (1962) to follow.

As their artistic collaboration progressed, Rodgers and Hammerstein did not shy away from asking heavier questions in their musicals. Their first two projects, Oklahoma! and the musical film State Fair (1945) are relatively airy, flighty compared to their successors – the darkness of morality in Carousel, the racist beliefs of the lead character in South Pacific. Foreshadowing that later drama in successive musicals is the misanthropic (not just misogynistic) character of Jud Fry. Played by Rod Steiger, Jud is a villain without any redeeming qualities in the original musical. Steiger’s Jud remains a reprehensible character, but Steiger – as have most other actors who have played Jud in on stage in the decades since – positions Jud as more of a loner whose social ineptitude results in an unchecked covetousness over Laurey. To some reading that last sentence, that distinction between portrayals of Jud may not make any meaningful difference in one’s negative opinions about the character and his actions. Yet, Steiger’s portrayal of Jud – as sloppy, maladjusted, knowing little else about life other than farm work – is nevertheless a refinement on the character Rodgers and Hammerstein originally did not give much thought to.

Zinnemann’s dramatic tendencies needed moderation, as they sometimes threated to overshadow the musical features. Although, to Zinnemann’s credit, as a dramatist first, he imbues Oklahoma! with a dramatic fervor that came to define all Rodgers and Hammerstein musical film versions after it – something that one never received from the somewhat assembly line-like musical from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM) and Fox. Oklahoma! was Zinnemann’s first widescreen film, as well as the first time he shot in color.  The emotional intensity of his earlier movies would be antithetical to the sweeping rural cinematography that he and cinematographer Robert Surtees (1959’s Ben-Hur, 1971’s The Last Picture Show) and Floyd Crosby (1931’s Tabu: A Story of the South Seas, 1960’s House of Usher) needed to capture. Zinnemann, Surtees, and Crosby offer sumptuous images of the Arizona countryside (Oklahoma’s oil wells proved too plentiful and distracting for the production) and the inviting blue sky that overhangs the cornfields sweeping across the land. With widescreen cameras rather new around 1955, the cameras wisely stay further back in interior scenes (shot at MGM’s studios in Culver City, California) with numerous people, directing our gaze centrally with brilliant blocking from the actors. The staging nevertheless feels like a stagebound musical during some interior scenes, like a lower-budget MGM musical with a trivial plot.

The widescreen cinematography, of course, was purposefully a showcase – see the shots of Gene Nelson spinning his rope directly towards the camera in “Kansas City” and the shot of an overly-excited auctioneer hammering their gavel and having the gavel nearly break the camera in another. Magna Theatre Corporation intended Oklahoma! to be a demonstration of their new Todd-AO 70mm process, in hopes of competing against Cinerama (which used three synchronized projectors at once on a curved screen). Because some theaters could not support the widescreen prints, two different versions of Oklahoma! exist: one in Todd-AO and another in CinemaScope (the latter a 20th Century Fox invention). This review is based on the Todd-AO print – which I recommend over the CinemaScope print – that currently is streaming on Disney+. Another note about the Todd-AO print: the first two films shot on Todd-AO 70mm – Oklahoma! and Around the World in Eighty Days (1956) – were shot in 30 frames per second (FPS) rather than the standard twenty-four. Thus, the Todd-AO print will appear slightly smoother in motion than most all other films, including modern ones.

Why 30 FPS for film screenings in 1955? Higher frames per second result in less noticeable light flickering and more dynamic colors (these effects for movies shot at higher FPS rates only apply to films shot on film stock, not digital). However, film projectors with a Todd-AO print would run hotter, requiring simultaneous cooling of the film while it ran through the projector. All subsequent films shot on Todd-AO reverted to the standard twenty-four frames per second.

Diehard musical fans often consider Fred Zinnemann’s Oklahoma! the most faithful – narratively, musically – of all the Rodgers and Hammerstein film adaptations. Deleted from Oklahoma! are two songs: Ali Hakim’s chauvinistic “It’s a Scandal, It’s a Outrage! [sic]” and Jud’s brooding “Lonely Room”. The former has among the least musical interest in the entire musical, but “Lonely Room” might have been a helpful source of characterization of Steiger’s Jud (the limited vocal range required for the song would suit Steiger). Otherwise, some of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s most iconic songs are present, starting with “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’”. Sung solo by MacRae on horseback (as opposed to being sung completely offstage in the original stage version), it serves the same purpose as the title song from The Sound of Music (1965) does. It establishes Curly’s character (mostly), and establishing the vast environs where the film takes place. The atmospheric opening shot of the camera moving through the corn and opening up into a grassy landscape might seem corny inane, but what a visual message it sends for one of the early widescreen American movies. Curly’s solo leads into “The Surrey with the Fringe on Top”, as he attempts to woo Laurey into accompanying him to the box social. A brief visual aside to allow viewers who do not know what a surrey looks like is a touch that a stage musical cannot provide, but this song – along with my choice of the best song in the musical, “People Will Say We’re in Love” (which gives MacRae and Jones a lovely duet with the production’s most romantic melodies) – exemplifies the rapport between MacRae and Jones and their two characters.

There remains charm aplenty across the musical score. Gene Nelson’s rendition of “Kansas City” is by no means essential to the plot of Oklahoma!, but it is a diverting number with some fancy footwork by not only Nelson (essentially the film’s comic relief and using a perfect, non-jarring voice for such a role), but Charlotte Greenwood and the scene’s extras as well. And then, arriving late, there is also the lively title song, delivered by MacRae with a similar energy as he employs for “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’”. “Oklahoma” became the official state song for Oklahoma in 1953, replacing a lesser-known song, “Oklahoma – A Toast”. Credit must also go to the extras and chorus for spearheading the song for its second half, as well as Robert Russell Bennett for his gorgeous (and definitive) vocal arrangement.

As its theatrical release drew near, details of the distribution of Oklahoma! would depend on which print a theater received. If a movie theater screened the Todd-AO 70mm print, Magna handled the distribution; if they showed the anamorphic CinemaScope 35mm print, the responsibility fell to RKO. RKO – the studio that gave audiences King Kong (1933), Citizen Kane (1942), and distributed all Disney movies until Rob Roy: The Highland Rogue (1954) – had fallen into turmoil by the mid-1950s and, by decade’s end, would be the first of the Big Five Hollywood studios to cease operations. The studio’s tyrannical owner, the eccentric Howard Hughes, disemboweled the studio from the inside out, and is a story for another day. Due to Hughes’ mismanagement, RKO withdrew from distribution and, in their place, came 20th Century Fox. Todd-AO and Fox shared theatrical and home media rights until Fox’s purchase by Disney in 2019; Todd-AO and Disney retain the split-ownership arrangement over Oklahoma!.

Though Oklahoma! is not usually part of most cinephiles’ and musical nerds’ pantheons of great Hollywood musicals, its contributions to the subsequent Rodgers and Hammerstein film adaptations are unmistakable. The duo’s closeness to numerous parts of the film’s production, the stunning widescreen cinematography, and the casting of actors with proven musical ability are hallmarks to be replicated, even in lesser adaptation such as South Pacific (1958) and Flower Drum Song (1961). For Rodgers and Hammerstein, they were so pleased from working with Fox that they continued to provide the rights to their musicals for all of their works’ adaptations with the exception of Flower Drum Song (which went to Universal). Like their work on Broadway, their best music and best movie adaptations of their musicals was yet to arrive. Oklahoma! marks a solid, healthy start to that run of adaptations, a hallmark of mid-century American moviemaking.

My rating: 7.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

[kayr0ss]

Dancing Queen

[Family, Diakko, Diakko baby!, kinda sad at first, but ends happy!]

Summary: Diana remembers being four, dancing with her mother at home. She remembers it all falling apart. Now she's the mother to a lovely little girl - and she's surprised to be dancing again. 

---

“You can dance!”

Diana giggled, arm reaching up towards the warmth of her mother. Their hands connected, their feet barely on-time while they swayed to the beat of one of the world’s most recognizable dance songs. “You can jive!” Bernadette twirled her in place—they were having the time of their lives.

In all her four years of existence, nothing ever felt as right as moments like these.

“Mother!” She giggled out, standing at the tips of her toes with a radiant grin so wide her sparkling blue eyes had creased around the corners in mirth. She wanted to be carried, and her mother would always oblige; in the same way she had indulged Diana when she knocked on her office door in the middle of the workday because she missed her.

Diana was hoisted upwards—the room was filled with music and laughter.

“There’s my little dancing queen!”

Her mother always had the most charming smile.

“I’m just a princess!” Diana pouted. “You’re the queen!”

--

Diana switched off the speakers’ power source so sharply that Hannah and Barbara reeled.

“Is something wrong?” Hannah tilted her head, looking a little miffed at her roommate’s behavior. “It was a good song.”

“It was distracting me from studying,” Diana replied coolly. “Apologies. Midterms are tomorrow and I must insist.”

“Loosen up.” Hannah grumbled. Barbara had only shrugged, but they dropped the subject, choosing to bury themselves back into their notes with a curtain of heaviness falling on the room’s atmosphere.

The memory was burned into her mind; something sore, and raw, and mocking in how happy it had all seemed. Diana bit down at the end of her pen—a habit from her childhood, one that she had outgrown except for when the troubles that plagued her were from her childhood as well.

But this was a temporary discomfort. She would take a moment to collect herself and begin her nearly perfected art of compartmentalizing emotions.

She didn’t have a mother; but it shouldn’t matter.

There was nothing that could be done anymore. Accept it. Compartmentalize it. And carry on. Doing so was easier when one had duties and responsibilities to attend to, so she would throw herself back into her work.

The radio stayed quiet. The feelings died away at the sound of silence.

--

“Next up on deck is a beloved ABBA classic!”

The radio jock’s voice was booming, and Diana immediately felt the pit of her stomach twist into itself and sink. She reached forward with the intention of turning the volume knob of Akko’s old-style boom boxed until it ‘clicked’ off, but her hand was swatted away (“Hey!”) by the bull-headed brunette.

“—everyone get ready to dance and jive!”

The song intro was a downwards glissando that she knew by heart. Make it stop, she clenched her jaw, reaching for the volume until it was back to dead silence quicker than Akko could intervene.

“I love this song!” the younger witch whined, pushing herself up from where she laid down on her dormitory bed, staring up at Diana who sat beside her. Sucy and Lotte were elsewhere, so they were studying together. Akko liked the music from a certain throw-back radio station that was near enough for Luna Nova to have reception of them. In true Akko fashion, she had narrowed her eyes towards Diana in a challenge, reaching towards the radio on her desk and turning it back on until music filled the room—

—and her heart.

She couldn’t tell if it was in a good way or bad way; but it was always too much. It was a suffocating tightness that wrapped around her chest. She nearly flinched when the first verse rolled in—warmth was so familiar, but so far away. Gone. It slipped through her fingers like wispy memories beginning to fade—but the thought of forgetting them forever terrified her just the same.

It was too much. Diana missed her too much. Almost on reflex, she closed the music again.

Akko was quiet.

“Dia?”

There was a tentative hand that settled above hers, and Diana looked up. Akko had forgotten all about her homework, the music, the radio. The brunette took her hand, her red eyes were wide, searching, and… worried?

“Why are you crying?”

---

“They’ll love having you around for a whole week!” Akko grinned, reaching over to hold Diana’s hand while they weaved through the traffic of Tokyo’s streets. To everyone’s surprise Atsuko Kagari wasn’t as bad a driver as they had expected. “We’re still in for a long drive, my family home is at the outskirts of the city, along the suburbs.”

“We’ve been dating five years, since before graduation.” Diana muttered. “I remember where your house is.” Was she nervous? Quite a bit, if she were to be honest. Akko’s parents were wonderful people who had all but accepted her as their own. But at most, their meetings were dinners and parties; not a whole seven-day stay in the family home Akko had grown up in.

And never before had the agenda been asking for their daughter’s hand in marriage.

Not that said daughter knew it yet.

Akko’s head was bobbing excitedly, her fingers drumming along the steering while to the tune of a boppy Japanese song from the eighties that was foreign to her. By the time they escaped the deadlock of traffic along one of the main thoroughfares, the song had faded out. There was banter among the radio jocks, one of them began speaking loudly. Diana wasn’t listening in, but it sounded as though he was announcing the next song and—

“Akko?” She blinked. Her girlfriend had moved so quickly, switching the station to something else. “What were they saying?”

“Nah. Nothing.” Akko smiled. It was a little sad, and there was something suspicious about the way the brunette’s gaze had lingered on own, and how softly Akko reached out to hold her hand. It was firm, secure.

“I just didn’t like the next song coming up.”

---

Everyone was a little wine drunk and having a good time.

That alone was the criteria by which Akko decided that their wedding reception was a “booming success!”

Diana, of course, rolled her eyes, straightened out the wrinkles on her wife’s after-party dress and looked around to make sure that the party was carrying on with no incident.

“You’re not supposed to play school prefect on your wedding day, honey.” Akko scrunched her nose while Diana lightly dusted off the shorter woman’s shoulders.

“I wouldn’t have to if I hadn’t married such a troublemaker.” Diana smiled sweetly, leaning downwards when Akko moved in closer for a quick peck on the lips.

“This troublemaker didn’t force this marriage upon you, y’know!”

“That’s still up in the air.” Diana teased, holding Akko by the waist when the latter draped her arms around Diana’s shoulders. They were by the dancefloor—Amanda had dragged them to join everyone else once formalities were finished and the DJ took over the booth.

It was a cruel twist of fate when a certain song began to roll in.

A timeless tune, one that artists never dared to touch with tacky remixes or remasters. The same glissando from her memories of twenty-two years ago marked the start of the song.

The dancefloor erupted into cheers. Of course it would—it was a crowd favorite. A small group nearby heckled for the newlyweds to dance together, but Akko had smiled politely, pulling her wife towards the side for some space. The ballroom was dimly lit at this point in the evening, much to their relief.

“Want me to ask them to change the song?” Akko tilted her head, her eyes betraying softness and care. The sight of it soothed the dull ache beginning to take hold of Diana’s chest.

“No.” Diana shook her head. “It’s quite alright. The guests are enjoying.”

Akko chewed on her lip tentatively. “Do you miss her?”

“I wish she were here today, yes.”

“I wonder if she’d have liked me!” The brunette offered an unsure grin, trying to coax a smile back from Diana with a bit of humor. “I’d have probably said something stupid to her, like, thirty times by now, I think.” Akko narrowed her eyes in thought. It was adorable. “Hm. Yeah. Maybe forty.”

Diana chuckled. It worked. She brushed back Akko’s hair, smiling in a way that left a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

“My beautiful wife,” the blonde started tenderly. “She would have loved you so much.”

---

Diana sighed, dropping her glasses onto her desk while she leaned back and gave her shoulders a roll. It was only six in the evening; did people get backaches from overworking as early as thirty? She spared a glance towards her work, there was quite a bit left to finish, but Akko would have words to say if she missed dinner for work again.

There was a little knock on her door.

“Come in,” she called. Curious. It was too light to be Akko’s. Therefore…

“Mum?”

The way her lips quirked into a smile was nearly involuntary. “Yes, Sara, darling?”

She was timid the first time she peaked her head through the doorway, but upon her mother’s invitation, Sara grinned (identical with Akko’s) and all but ran into Diana’s studio. Her mop of light brown hair was wavy and pulled up into a ponytail, her bangs were similar to Diana’s own blonde ones, framing the sides of her adorable, four-year-old face. In her hands was…

“Where did you get that?” Diana blinked.

“I was looking around the storerooms!” Sara gave a toothy grin.

“Honey, I told you it isn’t safe to go through boxes alon—”

“Ka-san was with me!” Sara pouted. “We found this. Then she told me to bring it to you and fetch you for dinner. What is it, mum? Why is it flat?”

Diana leaned forward, feeling breathless at the sight of a memento from long ago. “It’s a… vinyl record.”

The cover was yellowed and thin, almost falling apart at the edges if it hadn’t been so well-kept. Four foreign faces were photographed in a square frame, outlined by white. The rest of the cover was black. It was from her mother’s collection.

ABBA (1976) | Dancing Queen

She ran her fingers along the record’s front. There was no dust. Either Akko or Sara had wiped it down, and the thought of them taking care of something so precious to her warmed her heart. She took a breath, realizing how similar her studio looked to that of her mother’s.

“Mum?” Sara chirped, eyes wide and curious and so familiarly red. “Can we play it?”

--

It only took a few minutes. They had finally set the needle down, and the record began to spin. Diana braced herself for the sting of longing, and fading memories, but—

“Mum!” Sara was gasping. “Dance with me!”

She wasn’t given a moment to respond. The little girl had taken her by the hands, pulling her upwards from the chair in a fit of giggles while awkwardly jumping. Diana felt a swell of pride to see that Sara was on-beat. She took after Akko. Sara raised her hand. “Spin!”

“Spin?”

“Like in the movies!” Sara pulled on her arm and—ah—she wanted to be twirled.

How could she say no?

She didn’t even realize she was grinning, ecstatic at the sight of Sara’s lounge dress flaring outwards while she twirled on her heel. “You’ll get dizzy,” Diana hummed, taking both of her daughter’s hands to keep her steady upright.

But Sara just laughed.

The sound of her laugh warmed her up so profoundly that it drove away bitterness and melancholy.

The void in her heart so filled—there was no space for longing.

“You know this song well, mum?”

Diana tilted her head in question.

“You’re singing it!”

She was? She didn’t even realize.

“Your grandmother would dance this with me, when I was around your age.”

Red eyes widened into saucers full of childish awe and boundless wonder. “You and grandma?”

Diana nodded, eyes glistening while she smiled. She sharply realized that now she was the mother—and she was dancing with her daughter.

She wondered, did her mother feel as wonderful as this during those dances? She didn’t know she could love so deeply, so unconditionally.

I was loved like this too, she breathlessly remembered the feeling of Bernadette’s hand on her own, always within reach and making sure she didn’t fall when she spun too quickly, too hard. It left her in awe. Sara was so carefree, and Diana saw the same four-year-old girl she had shut away in the smile of her daughter.

Why did she ever want to forget that feeling?

Why did she want to stop hearing this song?

Sara was a breathless mess of Akko’s energy and her own finesse, but all the dancing and laughing had tired out her legs.

“Take it easy, my little dancing queen.” Diana cooed.

“I’m just a princess!” Sara pouted, holding out her arms for her mother to carry her.

Diana’s eyes had widened; and then immediately began to sting and water. She smiled, lovingly, amazed at how her daughter—in so few words—repaired something that was broken for so many years.

She was now a mother—and it meant everything to hear the very words she had once said:

“You’re the queen!”

 -

 Having the time of her life

See that girl?

Watch that scene—

Digging the Dancing Queen

-

fin

-

A/N: Hey guys! Holy  sh*t, this is my 30th uploaded Diakko fanfic (on AO3)! Damn! This is (obviously) inspired by ABBA's super classic song Dancing Queen. It would be cool if you guys had a listen to visualize the last part. :)

I hope you enjoy this. Hammered it out at an ungoldy hour in the morning, but I wanted some feelings!Diana and in case it isn't obvious, songs are a really strong motivator and source of inspiration for me when writing. Thanks to everyone who has read, left kudos, shared wonderful, wonderful comments that honestly give me life, drive, and motivation LMAO on all the short stories I've shared thus far. Can't wait to share more!

*Insert turtle copulation noises* *cries in Appointments update*

[broken-stardust]

The Sweetest Thing

Summary: Spencer plans on proposing to Reader, but the night has something else in store for the two of them.

Category: Spencer!POV x Male!Reader Fluff!

A/n: I had this idea suddenly and I thought it would be so cute so I just had to get it out there

Word count: 1.9k

It's not every day that you get to wake up next to the love of your life, seeing their hair fall into their face as they snore softly, smiling to yourself and thinking about how you're the luckiest man in the world. But, if you play your cards right, it can be the rest of your days. That's what I was planning on making happen tonight. You only get to propose once in your life - if you're not David Rossi - and I was going to make this one count. I was going to make it something so special, it would be a story to tell our grandchildren.

I'd bought the perfect ring with JJ's help, and we were set to go to the fanciest new restaurant that had just opened. I'd made the reservation six months in advance. Tonight would be perfect. We'd have our dinner, and when the waiter asked if we wanted dessert, I'd say "No, thank you. I already have the sweetest thing right in front of me" and get down on one knee. Y/N was a sucker for clichés, so I was sure he'd love it. 

It was almost time to go, so I took one last look in the bathroom mirror to fix my hair and my tie. I shook my nerves out and smiled. Everything was going to be perfect.

I quickly shuffled over to my sock drawer before my boyfriend could see what I was doing, hoping to slip the ring into my pocket clandestinely. Except there was one problem. The ring was missing.

My breath caught in my throat as I struggled to comprehend the reality before me. How could the ring have gone missing? Did I misplace it? I couldn't have. I had an eidetic memory. I knew where I put it. My head spun with improbabilities and possible outcomes for the coming night. As I caught my breath, I resolved to call the only person who could rationally get me through this: JJ. I dialed her number, and after two and a half rings that felt like two and a half eternities, she finally picked up.

"Hey Spen-" I didn't even let her finish her greeting before telling her what was wrong. "The ring is missing," I whisper-yelled into the phone. "What?" I could practically hear her jaw on the floor.

"The ring is missing," I repeated in a panicked frenzy. "I went to get it from my sock drawer, and it wasn't there. How am I supposed to propose with no ring?" I was pacing around the room and running my hand through my hair every two seconds. I was sure that it was a mess by now.

"Are you sure you didn't put it somewhere else?" JJ asked. I glared as if she could see me, but she still somehow got the message. "Right, sorry," she apologized. 

"What do I do, JJ?" I pleaded.

She took a second to think before replying. "Just act like it's a regular date. Y/N doesn't have any reason to believe otherwise, so just pretend you wanted to spoil him tonight. Tomorrow when he's at work, I'll come over and help you look for it, okay?" I let out a sigh and nodded before remembering that she couldn't see me. "Okay," I replied.

There was a knock on the door and I jumped in surprise. "Darling?" I heard Y/N call. "Are you almost ready? Our reservation is at seven so we have to get going."

"I'll be right out, Love!" I called back. Then I turned back to my phone. "I have to go. Thanks for your help, JJ." I hung up without giving her a chance to respond and rushed to fix my hair. I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to calm my racing heart.

It's fine, I told myself. Everything is fine. It probably just fell behind the dresser. There is nothing to worry out. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. I smoothed my shirt down before exiting the bedroom and meeting Y/N in the living room. I grinned bigger than I thought possible when I saw him.

In front of me stood the gorgeous man that I had fallen in love with. It wasn't even his physical features that made him beautiful to me. No, it was more than that. It was that smile that he was wearing now, the same one that he wore every time I tickled him until we were both out of breath. It was those mesmerizing eyes that glistened when he cried during a movie that made him too emotional. It was the soul behind the body that I was in love with.

"Are you alright, Dear?" he asked me. I cleared my throat and nodded, trying to avoid any further questions. I didn't want him to know that I had lost his engagement ring. "Alright... You just look a bit upset."

"I'm fine," I assured him, taking his arm and leading him to the door. "Let's get going. We don't want to be late."

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way. I drove with one hand resting on Y/N's knee. He had put on his favorite radio station, and he was humming along quietly to the songs as they came on. It was moments like these that I loved the most. Moments where we could do nothing together and still enjoy each other's company. But all too soon, the moment was over, and we arrived at our destination. I gave up my car to the valet, and my beautiful boyfriend and I made our way into the overpriced establishment.

"This place is nice," Y/N commented once we were settled at our table. He took a look at the menu while I just stared at him like a lovesick puppy. The dim lighting cast shade in just the right direction to accentuate his sharp features. The quiet music in the background was just the perfect noise to accompany the beautiful sight before me. Eventually, he looked up and started to laugh at my expression. "What is it?" he giggled.

"Do you remember our first date?" I asked dreamily. Of course, it would have been difficult to forget, being the disaster that it was. He laughed incredulously at my question.

"How could I forget?" His smile stretched so wide as he laughed, I wondered how his face hadn't ripped open. "You scared all those poor people by walking into that museum with your gun!"

My face turn red at the memory. It was true. I had messed up pretty bad, but if I hadn't, maybe we wouldn't have still been together now.

"I didn't mean to," I defended myself. "We had just gotten back from a case and I was not canceling on you for a second time." I looked down at the table and bit the inside of my cheek as I added "I just got a little too excited to see you, I guess."

"So excited that you ran into a museum with a gun holstered to your belt," Y/N scoffed. He let his head fall back as he laughed, and my heart fluttered at the sight. I felt heat begin to rise over my face, and he reached over and put a hand to my cheek, slowly rubbing his thumb over it. "It's okay, though," he whispered, leaning in. "Because that was the moment I knew that I'd fall in love with you."

I was so smitten that I could die right then and there. How had I ever gotten so lucky to meet a man such as Y/N? He was truly the love of my life. I couldn't wait to propose to him. I was just disappointed that tonight wouldn't be the night.

We enjoyed our dinner together, sharing laughs over old stories long forgotten. At least, they were long forgotten by Y/N. I, of course, could never forget, and there were no better times to be grateful for my eidetic memory than when I was reliving my favorite memories with him. He recounted the days of his puppy Winston, and all the trouble that they'd get into together, and I mused about all the books that I planned on reading to him. It really was the perfect date.

I hadn't even realized we had finished our dinner until our waiter came by. Truthfully, I was disappointed. I knew that Y/N and I would be heading home together and that we'd get to be able to continue our conversation, but something about this just felt different. I never wanted the moment to end.

"May I offer you gentlemen any dessert?"

That was the phrase that caught my attention. Well, not so much the phrase, but what came right after. Y/N's eyes glistened with an emotion I couldn't quite name, and he started speaking before I had a chance to say anything.

"No, thank you. I already have the sweetest thing right in front of me."

My heart stopped dead in its tracks. I looked into the eyes of the man who sat before me. No, he stood before me. He stood up in front of the whole restaurant and raised his glass. I knew what he was doing. I was supposed to be doing this. What was going on?

"Spencer Walter Reid," Y/N started, winking at me as he saw the confusion cloud my face. "From the moment I met you, I knew that you were special. It wasn't your fancy memory or your three PHDs, either. You saw me like no one else had seen me before, and you showed me what love is. You showed me what it's like to look forward to going home because the love of your life is waiting for you there. You-" His voice cracked as tears slid down his cheeks. "You are my soulmate. I know you don't believe in that, but I do. And that's why I want to ask you..."

Y/N dropped to one knee as he pulled a small box out of his pocket. Opening it up, he finally popped the question.

"Spencer, would you do me the absolute honor of being my husband?"

Through joyous tears, I could barely make sense of anything. All I felt was pure love and ecstasy at that moment. And then I saw the ring, and things started to make sense.

"Is that my ring?"

Y/N let out the biggest, happiest laugh is ever heard come from his mouth. People were now staring at us, but I didn't care. I was too happy. But first I wanted answers.

"It is if you say yes," he answered with a devilish grin plastered to that gorgeous face of his.

I let out a laugh of my own this time, allowing the relief of knowing I didn't lose the ring wash over me. Even when he was being such a child, Y/N had this effect on me.

"I can't believe you did that," I sigh, taking his hand and pulling him up to his feet. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I continued to speak. "I was absolutely terrified that I lost it. I wanted to propose to you tonight."

In typical Y/N fashion, he ignored all of the worrisome bits and went straight to the point. "Is that a yes?" he asked.

"Yes, it's a yes," I laughed as I leaned in for a kiss. He placed the ring on my finger and pulled me in for a hug. "Never do something like that again," I giggled in his ear.

"You know you love me," he quipped back.

"You're right," I hummed, placing another kiss on my fiancé's lips. "I do."

[girlsbtrs]

How Being a Woman in Hardcore Helped Me Learn to Love Myself

Written by Jen Moglia. Graphic by Laura Cross. 

Since this is my first piece written for Girls Behind the Rock Show, I figured that I should introduce myself; hi, my name is Jennifer, but most people call me Jen. I live on Long Island in New York, and my favorite things include my cats, the color pink, giving gifts to my Animal Crossing villagers, and watching sports. Above all else, however, I love music.

I frequently refer to music as the love of my life. It somehow plays a role in everything that I do. I got my first iPod when I was five years old, stacked with everything from Miranda Cosgrove and Avril Lavigne to Tool and Deftones. Some of my favorite memories growing up are sitting in my pink and purple bedroom singing and dancing along to Paramore’s crushcrushcrush and Fall Out Boy’s Thnks Fr Th Mmrs on the local alternative radio station. I danced for 12 years, played cello for seven, and am currently a wannabe ukulele rockstar after buying one on impulse and starting to teach myself how to play four years ago. Even on the simplest, barely noticeable levels, music has been everywhere in my life for as long as I can remember; even now, I can’t complete a basic task without a song playing in my headphones.

Music became an even bigger part of my life when I started attending live shows. I went to my first concerts at age 10, seeing my two favorite artists - Nickelodeon boy band Big Time Rush and classic progressive rock band Rush - within one month of each other. By the time I was 15, I had been to my fair share of arena/seated shows with one or both of my parents, from Fifth Harmony to Fitz and the Tantrums to Alice in Chains. My first general admission show was seeing the Foo Fighters at Citi Field with both my mom and dad when I was 12, but my first pop-punk general admission show (yes, they’re different) came a few years later. I had the typical list of favorite bands that you would expect from a young teenager getting into alternative music: Neck Deep, Knuckle Puck, Real Friends, and State Champs. 

In late 2018, I was able to see all four of these bands for the first time, and I am a firm believer that it changed the course of my life. I met, cried-during, and eventually got the setlist for Neck Deep at Stereo Garden on Long Island in September. I sang all of “Untitled” at the barricade for Knuckle Puck at SI Hall at the Fairgrounds in Syracuse in October. I had my first minor concussion scare (yay!) before Real Friends’ set at Irving Plaza in New York City in November. Finally, I crowd surfed for the first time during State Champs’ anniversary show for The Finer Things at House of Independents in Asbury Park in December. After just a few shows, I had fallen in love with this new brand of live music that I had just been introduced too. There was something so magical to me about skin covered in sweat and Sharpie marks, feet hurting from dancing in the pit all night, and meeting strangers on line outside the venue who would become your best friends and know your deepest secrets by the end of the night.

After making some friends at all of the pop-punk shows I was going to, they started to tell me that I should get into hardcore music. I was hesitant at first - the heaviest thing I had listened to at that point was nowhere near the snippets of hardcore that my friends had played for me - but, eventually, I decided to give it a chance. I was bored and home alone with nothing to do one night over the summer of 2019 when I listened to my first hardcore album, Laugh Tracks by Knocked Loose. Immediately, I got that gut feeling that you have when you know you’ve heard one of your favorite bands for the first time. I knew that this was something special that I was meant to find at this point in my life. For the rest of the summer, I worked my way through the rest of my friends’ hardcore and hardcore-adjacent recommendations, with Cost of Living by Incendiary, Stage Four by Touche Amore, You’re Not You Anymore by Counterparts, Time & Space by Turnstile, Springtime and Blind by Fiddlehead, Smile! Aren’t You Happy by Absence of Mine, Bad to my World by Backtrack, and Reality Approaches by Harms Way being some of my favorites. By the time the next school year started, I was hooked, and I already had tickets to my first few hardcore shows in the fall.

My first hardcore show was in November 2019, seeing Knocked Loose at Webster Hall in New York City - fitting, right? They were on tour supporting their new record A Different Shade of Blue, which I had become obsessed with the minute I heard it for the first time. Although I was ridiculously scared of getting stepped on and breaking all my bones (yes, that was an actual fear of mine), I had the time of my life at that show. There was something about this newer kind of live music that prompted a cathartic release, one that I hadn’t found anywhere else before. As soon as the show was over, I was counting the days until my next one.

My love for live hardcore music (and live music and hardcore music in general) has only grown since then, and that story sort of ends there. However, I want to go back to that first hardcore band that I listened to, Knocked Loose, and the album they put out that first summer that stole my heart. I was taken by storm as soon as the first notes of A Different Shade of Blue rang through my headphones, but something was different about the third track, A Serpent’s Touch, particularly the ending; I heard a voice that sounded a little bit more like my own.

This song features Emma Boster, who does vocals for one of my favorite hardcore bands right now, Dying Wish. When I heard A Serpent’s Touch for the first time, though, I had no idea who she was. I was used to the aggressive vocal delivery of frontmen in hardcore, particularly that of Knocked Loose’s Bryan Garris, but hearing it come from her changed my perspective on a lot of things. It’s not like the song was super angry and changed its tune to be lighter once the token girl came along; in her verse, Boster sings, “I watched the venom / Overcome your spirit / Jealousy holds you now / Distorting your appearance / Bleed out.” These were lyrics that held the same intensity that the lines screamed by the men held, and they sounded just as cool coming out of her mouth. As cheesy as it sounds, it had never even occurred to me that women had a place in this new world that I had discovered. The audiences in the live videos I watched (and eventually at the shows I attended) were made up of mostly men who looked bigger and older than me. When I did start going to shows, most of the non-man population consisted of my friends and I. Emma Boster, along with so many others, began to open my eyes to the fact that a place for people like me existed in this community. It didn’t matter that I had bright red hair or liked butterflies or wore pink - I was just as much a part of this magic as the men multiple feet taller than me with tattoo-covered arms, and I belonged there just as much as they did.

As time went on and I got more involved in the genre’s music and community, I discovered more bands with women in them, and it only fueled this fire of empowerment inside of me. When I felt insecure, I’d watch live sets from Krimewatch, a hardcore band from New York City, just half an hour away from my hometown. They have multiple women as members, including their energetic badass of a vocalist, Rhylli Ogiura. Year of the Knife became one of my all-time favorites, and their bassist Madison Watkins became a serious inspiration to me; the way that she can balance killing it on stage and running the cutest, most pink apparel brand I’ve ever seen (aptly titled Candy Corpse) amazes me. Even some of the bands I’ve found more recently have had an impact on me. I started listening to Initiate last year when their EP Lavender came out, and their beautifully colorful cover art caught my eye before I had heard any of their songs. Their vocalist, Crystal Pak, is also a woman, and she’s insanely talented. Discovering this kind of representation in this new universe that I had come to feel so at home in introduced me to a world of confidence and determination that I had never known before.

When people ask me why I love hardcore so much, I often give the easy answer; “the music sounds good.” If the person allows me to ramble on for a little longer, the answer becomes much more emotional and cheesy. Hardcore taught me that speaking up for what I believe in is important, and if there’s something I’m passionate about, it’s worth shouting about. I became familiar with this when listening to one of my favorite bands ever, Incendiary (the second hardcore band I ever checked out), before quickly realizing that politics are a pretty common topic within the genre - it’s what this music was practically built on. The first time I heard their vocalist Brendan Garrone singing about police brutality and injustice on songs like Force of Neglect and Sell Your Cause, I realized that there is so much more to music than just sounding good.

However, at its core, the thing I love so much about hardcore is what it taught me about being a woman. Growing up, I was the loud girl with the personality bigger than the room who always had something to say and had a never ending supply of excitement about just about everything. As I got older, I was taught that this was not okay. People didn’t like how enthusiastic I was about everything, or that I constantly had new ideas and new discoveries I wanted to talk about. As cliche as it sounds, I felt like everyone around me was trying to dull my sparkle, especially some of the men that I was encountering on a day-to-day basis. Even when I started to come to terms with my big and bright personality, in turn also coming to terms with my own femininity, I was told that this wasn’t how girls acted. I had to pick one - I could watch Disney princess movies and wear Hello Kitty hair clips, or I could be outspoken about my beliefs; but never both. The women that I mentioned earlier, along with so, so many more, helped me unlearn these toxic mindsets. Seeing someone like Emma Boster take the stage and scream ferociously for a full set helped me see that I could be a girl and still be a powerhouse. Following Madi Watkins around on social media showed me that I could love bands like Year of the Knife and also love heart-shaped purses and wear pink from head to toe. My aggression and passion didn’t make me any less of a woman, and my femininity didn’t make me any less of a force to be reckoned with. 

So, at the end of this love letter to hardcore and the women who run it, I say this; thank you for teaching me that I don’t have to shrink myself anymore. It has made a world of a difference.

[dianapocalypse]

Alright y’all, with the release of Mass Effect: Legendary Edition, it’s time for me to share my playlist for the entire trilogy.

I’ve refined this over like six years so scientifically speaking it’s probably good right. oh also it’s four hours long. so if you have a road trip or a boring job, this one’s for you. disclaimer, it’s entirely possible I have garbage taste in music. I also missed some characters and moments because there’s 65 songs here and I am merely human.

If you don’t have the patience for four hours, I recommend starting at track 45 and listening to the end, as the Mass Effect 3 portion is the strongest in my opinion.

UNDER THE CUT FOR DESCRIPTIONS WE GO!

FIRST MOVEMENT - MASS EFFECT 1

1. Atlas - Coldplay Eden Prime

“Sometimes the wire Must tense for the note Caught in the fire, say oh We're about to explode“

I really like the atmosphere of this song. It’s ominous, but also somehow hopeful, and makes me feel like Something Huge Is Coming.

2. I Will Not Sing A Hateful Song - Constantines Paragon Shepard

“But I was also born and raised To always speak and listen clear To know the last sound that I make Could be the last sound that I hear“

OK, listen, I think this song is about vampires, and I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be a metaphor or not. But I think this is a great song about controlling one’s temper, about knowing that you have to Rise Above the parts of you that want to lash out sometimes to get things done and have peace. Seeing as how paragon Shepard, to me, always seems like they’re three deep breaths away from snapping, but manage to keep it in check, it fits them to a T.

And also maybe they’re a vampire.

3. Hard to Kill - Beth Crowley Renegade Shepard

“So I let the rumors Turn me into a legend 'Cause I'm only human But a good myth is hard to kill”

This one’s a recent addition, but holy cow, I love it for Renegade Shep, particularly an Earthborn or Ruthless, but it works for any of them.

4. We Own the Skies - Five Iron Frenzy Joker

“My hands are bleeding where they often crack The stars will sometimes burn with longing Through the choking black Of night shifts piling each against the next”

This really vibes with Joker’s backstory for me, his super driven serious self in flight school, contrasted with who he is when he can fly a ship. He’s the best pilot in the goddamn fleet and I love him.

5. I Just Wanna See - Smash Mouth Kaidan Alenko

“Mister moon checkin' on how y'all livin' The stars all winkin' at the day that's dimmin' I just wanna see”

This song fits into his reactions to first showing up at the Citadel and his former romanticism about living in space. Ironically, it’s a song about Earth, but I feel like it works well for him. Also, Smash Mouth absolutely sounds like the kind of music Kaidan would listen to, no I will not be taking questions or constructive criticism.

6. Don’t Give Up - Noisettes Ashley Williams

“She's got a talented face and a suitcase Ain't got no desire to go no place In her case she's got no desire with her hand in the flame say's she don't feel the fire “

The energy of this song is just perfect for Ashley’s no-nonsense chip on her shoulder attitude.

7. About As Helpful As You Can Be Without Being Any Help At All - Dan Mangan The Council

“I was thrown in the boat/Cast out to sea Friendly with waves/There were sharks below Hungry for me/So I dangled my leg”

I mean, the title says it all.

8. The Captain - Guster Anderson

“Courageous, just like the captain Marching forward with no doubt in his head”

I have adored this song ever since my friend played it for me, and it’s the ultimate mentor-protégé jam for me.

9. Secret Agent Man - Johnny Rivers Garrus Vakarian

“Here's a man who leads a life of danger To everyone he meets he stays a stranger Oh, with every move he makes another chance he takes The odds are he won't live to see tomorrow”

I have to poke a little fun at Garrus and how seriously he takes himself in Mass Effect 1. I romanced him across four playthrus, I’m allowed!

10. I’m Getting Too Old For This Shit - Kill Lincoln Urdnot Wrex

“This random apathy/I swear it's killing me But I guess it's all the same, till the devil knows my name”

I don’t know ANYTHING about this band, but this song fits Wrex’s disillusionment with the Krogan well, plus, like. The title. (And also, that he secretly DOES care what happens to the Krogan.)

11. Bird Song - Juniper Vale Tali’zorah nar Rayya

“I want to dance on the horizon line But there is something I am caged behind I have a heart made for take flight But I'm low, so low”

I adore this song and the sound of Juniper Vale in general. The etherealness of this one, combined with the youthful optimism, feels very Tali. The line about ‘something I am caged behind’ works well for the suits, too. This one’s especially good if you’re a Talimancer!

12. 11. Green Garden - Laura Mvula Liara T’Soni

“And I’ll fly on the wings of a butterfly High as a tree top and down again Putting my bag down, taking my shoes off Walk on the carpet of green velvet”

I really like this song’s vibes and I feel like Liara fits it well, particularly in ME1, before all her youthful optimism is stripped from her. The scenery descriptions feel very Thessia, too.

13. Feed Me (Git It) - Little Shop of Horrors The Thorian 

“The guy sure looks like plant food to me!”

Do you get it. Do you get my joke. It’s because the Thorian is a plant that eats people. (I’m not funny)

14. Blindness - Metric Matriarch Benezia

“I was a blind fool, never complained All the survivors singing in the rain “

I don’t love the use of blind here as a negative, albeit metaphorical, descriptor, but I think this song fits Benezia’s indoctrination and death well. If you have suggestions for another, though, let me know!

15. Technologic - Daft Punk Saren

“Buy it, use it, break it, fix it, trash it, change it, mail, upgrade it”

I just think it’s Neat

16. Watershed - Vienna Teng The Reapers

“ While you were building your empires I was still sleeping”

I think this is the song that inspired the entire playlist. Vienna Teng sat down and decided to write a song from the perspective of a natural disaster, and it’s so ominous and gut-wrenching.

17. Hourglass - The Hush Sound Virmire

“This is how it ends We believe every lie and say we'll be friends How long will it last? Before we scratch all the scripts and we rework the cast “

hahahahah rework the cast get it because you have to pick who DIES

Seriously tho I really like this song for Virmire and that moment of choice that feels like it lasts 100 years on some playthroughts.

18. Pompeii - Bastille The Siege of the Citadel

“ And the walls kept tumbling down In the city that we love”

Throwback to when this song was on the radio like three times an hour. Which is around the time I made the first draft of this playlist, incidentally! It’s such a good Final Battle Jam for the Citadel, and the part about “if you close your eyes/does it almost feel like nothing’s changed at all” I think work really well for Shepard in this sequence. Shepard knew the Reapers were coming, had been fighting them all along; this attack on the Citadel is just retreading familiar territory for them, as horrifying as the war being brought to their doorstep is for the Citadel’s citizens and the council. James Vega has some good dialogue about that kind of thing in ME3.

INTERLUDE THE FIRST

19. Starships - Nicki Minaj The Normandy Crew

Starships were meant to fly Hands up and touch the sky

I like to have a little fun OK

20. Gravity - Yoko Kanno The Death of Commander Shepard

“Am I alone? is somebody there beyond these heavy aching feet still the road keeps on telling me to go on”

Welcome to mood whiplash, it’s my specialty! This is the part where you die. I think it also works for her coma very well, when she’s just drifting between life and death, not sure what’s going on, but something keeps trying to pull her back to the world.

SECOND MOVEMENT - MASS EFFECT 2

21. The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy The Lazarus Project

“Hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out? I'm gonna change you like a remix Then I'll raise you like a phoenix “

this song has no right to go as hard as it does and if  you think it’s melodramatic shut up

22. My Body Is A Cage - Peter Gabriel Commander Shepard

“I'm living in an age Whose name I don't know Though the fear keeps me moving Still my heart beats so slow “

This works particularly well if you romanced The Virmire Survivor, but this song captures the energy of Shepard freaking out bc they are trapped with Cerberus, because Cerberus rebuilt their body from the ground up. That jarring, caged feeling is so palpable in ME2 that when they gave me back Joker the first time I played, I BURST INTO SOBS from relief.

23. The Lady is a Vamp - The Spice Girls Miranda Lawson

“That's all in the past, legends built to last But she's got something new”

Listen. She’s a bond babe. Handbags, heels and pistols rock. She’s got class. This is a song about Miranda. That is all.

24. Kryptonite - 3 Doors Down Jacob Taylor

“ I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon After all I knew, it had to be something to do with you “

This one’s about the Vibes for me. Also can apply to his past relationship with Miranda. I’m also super showing my age on this song, oof haha.

25. Stable Song - Death Cab For Cutie Colony Abduction

“Rows of deserted houses all Our stable mates highway bound “

I really like the mood of this one for showing up on the very first abducted colony, the eerieness and sadness of it all and Shepard’s resolve to do something about it.

26. Konichiwa Bitches - Robyn Kasumi Goto

“I'm so very hot that when I rob your mansion You ain't call the cops, you call the fire station”

THAT COUPLET ALONE MAKES THE ENTIRE SONG. I love how playful and cheeky it is.

27. Seven Nation Army Glitch Mob Remix - The White Stripes, Glitch Mob Zaeed Massani

“And I'm talking to myself at night Because I can't forget Back and forth through my mind Behind a cigarette”

Pretty sure we all had this on some playlist or another when it came out, and it’s the perfect Badass With A Grudge song.

28. Science is Real - They Might Be Giants Mordin Solus

“ And when a theory emerges Consistent with the facts The proof is with science The truth is with science “

This one actually got added by my wife to replace a song that wasn’t on Spotify, but that has the same energy; Hank Green’s “I Fucking Love Science”. I get more into the emotional side of Mordin in the ME3 section, but I also really just love his Hamster On Coffee energy and this song captures it really well.

29. Prove Yourself - Radiohead Garrus Vakarian

“I can't afford to breathe in this town Nowhere to sit without a gun in my hand Hooked back up to the cathode ray

I'm better off dead “

The absolute rock bottom mental state Garrus is in when you get back to him in ME2 is so heartwrenching. Might not always agree with my boy’s methods, but he’s one of my favorite fictional characters of all time.

30. Rat a Tat - Fallout Boy Feat. Courtney Love Jack

“We are professional ashes of roses, this kerosene's live You settled your score, this is where you come to beg”

It helps that Courtney Love sounds exactly like Jack to me, NGL.

31. Defeat You - Smash Mouth Grunt

“Hey I know what you've done It makes it that much better to defeat you “

Only I am brave enough to put two songs by Smash Mouth on the same playlist, to be shared in 2021

32. The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot - Brand New Horizon/The Virmire Survivor

“If it makes you less sad I will die by your hand Hope you find out what you want Already know what I am “

Hits harder if you romanced the Virmire Survivor. Mostly from Shep’s perspective. This is a Shep that feels Bad after that encounter rather than Mad, so Your Mileage May Vary.

33. Violet Stars Happy Hunting! - Janelle Monae Tali’zorah vas Neema

“I'm an alien from outer space I'm a cyber-girl without a face a heart or a mind”

I just like the vibes of this one for Tali! I know it’s more about an actual AI but...IDK. I like it. So there.

34. Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd Thane Krios

“There is no pain you are receding A distant ship smoke on the horizon”

This song works both on a Literal level with his Kepral’s syndrome struggles, but also Metaphorical re: his Battle Sleep. Plus, Thane is a dad, so he gets Dad Rock.

35. My Medea - Vienna Teng Samara

“For I have made her prison be Her every step away from me And this child I would destroy If you tried to set her free “

Mom of the year award, here

36. Toxic - Britney Spears Morinth

“There's no escape, I can't wait I need a hit, baby, give me it You're dangerous, I'm loving it”

If Morinth weren’t so under-utilized after recruitment and didn’t get killed off in the background of ME3 I’d probably actually recruit her sometimes. I almost did on my most recent playthru bc that Shepard just HATES SPACE COPS. Anyway the song explains itself

37. Turn me On - David Guetta feat. Nicki Minaj EDI/The Collector Attack

“My body needs a hero Come and save me Something tells me you know how to save me”

I know this song is a metaphor but also it works really well both literally and metaphorically for Joker saving EDI

38. Robots - Dan Mangan Legion

“Robots need love too They want to be loved by you “

The Geth just want to live peacefullyyyyyy 

39. Be Still - The Killers Love Interest Theme

“Be still / someday you’ll leave fearlessness on your sleeve”

This song works so well for the night before Omega-4. If you had an ME2 love interest, anyway. Also “fearlessness on your sleeve” is one of my favorite set of words ever written.

40. No Cars Go - Arcade Fire The Omega-4 Relay

“We know a place no spaceships go We know a place where no subs go “

This one’s pretty literal.

41. Rocketman - Elton John Suicide Mission

“ And I think it's gonna be a long, long time 'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find I'm not the man they think I am at home “

I like sneaking some Classics onto my playlists, and I think this is how I generally approach Shepard’s mindset during the Suicide Mission, mostly the chorus. I’m also a sucker for ballads during action sequences. This one isn’t a perfect 1:1 but the Vibes check out.

42. Blast Off - David Guetta feat. Kaz James The Normandy Crew

“Got all my people with me And none of us give a fuck So put dem hands up higher Let's smash this party up”

You have to imagine they partied HARD after recovering from Suicide Mission, but before Shep got arrested, right??? This is the Starships for ME2.

INTERLUDE THE SECOND

43. I’m Not Your Hero - Tegan and Sara Liara T’soni

“ Feeling like I am now lighting up the hall I was used to standing in the shadow of a damaged heart Learning all I know now, losing all I did I never used to feel like I'd be standing so far ahead “

This feels like a good coming of age moment for Liara, as she copes with the choices she made in the 2 years of Shepard’s death (giving them to Cerberus), losing Feron, etc. This is her coming into her own as the Shadow Broker. She’s not meant to be an uncomplicated Big Damn Hero, but she can do good from this position.

44. The Well and the Lighthouse - Arcade Fire The Alpha Relay Incident

“I'm serving time All for a crime I did commit You want the truth? You know I'd do it all again“

These opening lines I feel capture the Alpha Relay Incident really well, and how Shepard did what they HAD to do there, and would do it again, but it still feels like shit. I always wished there was more choice on that mission, but also, having something like that happen without player agency is interesting. Shepard is at their most interesting, I think, in times where we DON’T have a say in what happens to them.

45. Reignite - Malukah Commander Shepard

“Crush my heart into embers, and I will reignite”

Is it cheating to use a Mass Effect fan song on my playlist? I certainly don’t think so, and this is the best Mass Effect fan song ever written.

THIRD MOVEMENT - MASS EFFECT 3

46. This Is War - Thirty Seconds to Mars Leaving Earth

“It's the moment of truth, and the moment to lie The moment to live and the moment to die The moment to fight, the moment to fight To fight, to fight, to fight “

It feels Too Easy to use this here but I’m gonna anyway. You’ve seen AMVs of this set to everything. It’s the ending song of DA:O. It’s the quintessential World At War song.

47. Battleborn - The Killers James Vega

“Up against the wall There's something dying on the street When they knock you down You're gonna get back on your feet”

James Vega is massively underrated and I will love him til I’m cold in the ground. Aro icon.

48. Handlebars - Flobots The Illusive Man

“I can hand out a million vaccinations Or let 'em all die of exasperation Have 'em all healed of their lacerations Have 'em all killed by assassination”

The way this song escalates fits TIM and Cerberus’s fall back into being Just Full On Evil really well. Perfect song for a power trip.

49. Here I Dreamt I Was An Architect - The Decemberists The Virmire Survivor

“And I am nothing of a builder But here I dreamt I was an architect And I built this balustrade To keep you home, to keep you safe From the outside world”

I like this song for how the Virmire Survivor feels about their survivor’s guilt and also about Shepard. I honestly wish they were both more heavily utilized in ME2 and 3, but I realize it’s hard to write a ton of content for characters who just aren’t in half of all peoples’ playthrus.

50. Heaven Knows - The Pretty Reckless Grisson Academy

“One, two, three and four, the devil's knocking at your door Caught in the eye of a dead man's lie Show your life with your head held high“

This song is so perfect for Jack and her biotic kids that she’s one of the only returning characters that gets her own song on this playlist

51. The Great Fire - OK Go Javik

“But when the flames die down, and everything is gone, Will there be fire under the ashes still?”

Self explanatory. Javik is the fire remaining under the ashes.

52. Bring the Hammer Down - Paragon Priority: Tuchanka/Kalros

“ Hammer strikes the anvil A rage that breaks the chain Strikes down like a lightening In our ranks “

KALROOOOOS

53. Wake Up - Arcade Fire Curing The Genophage/Mordin Solus

“If the children don't grow up, Our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up. We're just a million little gods causin' rain storms, turnin' every good thing to Rust I guess we'll just have to adjust”

I just really love this song as an image of Mordin’s spirit looking out over Tuchanka as the genophage cure is dispersed, and watching over future generations. If you didn’t cure the genophage, how dare you. No song for you.

Anyway started tearing up listening to this one while writing the description don’t look at me

54. Ballad of a Politician - Regina Spektor Councillor Udina/Priority Citadel 2

“A man inside a room is shaking hands with other men This is how it happens/Our carefully laid plans”

traitor

55. Cyborgs vs. Robots - Ludo The Geth-Quarian War

“But your iron fist will never knock me down 'Cause I'm powered By a conscious right to conduct my life without fear.”

This is probably a bit silly for this awful war. But also. It does fit. You can’t tell me it doesn’t. Just save them both at the end and you can feel fine having some fun with it!

56. Artificial Heart - Jonathan Coulton The Geth

“It's not a real heart It is a real artificial heart”

Just a little fun with the Geth! This works best with Reaper Upgrades.

57. With A Little Help From My Friends - Joe Anderson, Jim Sturgess The Citadel DLC

“What do you see when you turn out the light? I can't tell you, but I know it's mine

Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends”

I happen to prefer this version to any other because of how much fun it sounds like they’re having

58. Dark In Here - The Mountain Goats Priority: Earth

“Steal away at sundown, pick a place to hide Check for signs of ambush, hunker down inside Tired of running, tired of never standing still Hear them riding up the hill“

You know I had to get the Goats in here. Would it be a fan playlist if there wasn’t one?

59. Adieu - Yoko Kanno Leaving your Love Interest/Shepard and the Beam

“My love for you burns deep inside me / So strong Embers of times we had And now, here I stand / Lost in a memory I see your face, and smile”

...do I need to say more than that?

60. My Way (Minor Key) - Chase Holfelder The Indoctrination of The Illusive Man

“Regrets, I've had a few/But then again, too few to mention I did what I had to do/I saw it through, without exemption“

This cover takes this song from something I tolerate when I hear it to one of my FAVORITE songs. The frenzied way he sings the “through it all” verse is PEAK Indoctrinated TIM.

61. I’m Alive - Disturbed Refusal 

“There will never be a reason why I will surrender to your advice To change myself, I'd rather die/Though they will not understand”

Honestly I didn’t “get” the Refusal ending until I heard this song, then I was like, OH, I SEE IT ALL SO CLEARLY NOW. This is my favorite in-universe Shepard take on the Refusal ending. I always got it from the player’s perspective of being dissatisfied with the options, but this one puts it into the world for me. This is a Shepard who does not trust the Starchild. This is a Shepard that chooses to end things on their own terms rather than submit to their designs.

62. Machine - Regina Spektor Control 

“I collect my moments Into a correspondence With a mightier power Who just lacks my perspective And who lacks my organics And who covets my defects “

I used to have Adieu here, actually, because like Refusal, I didn’t used to GET the Control ending. Now, I do, in part thanks to hearing this song. I mean, just go look at the full lyrics. If this song hadn’t been written years before the end of Mass Effect 3, I’d swear it was a fan song for it.

63. Maybe Tomorrow - Yuki Kajiura Destroy 

“The moon is gone And the night is still so dark I'm a little bit afraid of tomorrow“

I’m a Destroy Ending person, I won’t lie. Full on “the starchild is a liar and my synthetic friends are FINE” indoctrination theory level destroy ending. But this song is not about that. It’s about the canonical destroy ending, and if you prefer a Shep that survives it, this song’s for you.

This song captures the exhaustion and melancholy of the end of a long journey so well. Shepard is afraid of what comes next, the collateral damage resulting from their actions. But they know that, at least, it’s over now. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

64. Waiting For the End - Linkin Park Synthesis

“ I know what it takes to move on I know how it feels to lie All I wanna do is trade this life for something new Holding on to what I haven't got”

This is one of my favorite songs of all time. The hardest part of ending is starting again. Oof. Gets me every single time. Shepard finding the resolve to sacrifice themself for the hope of something better, of things not going how they planned, ever, of learning to make peace with that and the people who loved them learning to carry on without them? OOF.

65. Shine - Vienna Teng Epilogue

“Shine with all the untold Hold the light given unto you Find the love to unfold In this broken world we choose“

Vienna Teng is a master of capturing life’s softer emotions, and this fits perfectly with the epilogue scene for me. Tell me again about the Shepard.

“Find the love to unfold in this broken world we choose” has to be one of the greatest lines about the human experience ever written.

[quicksilversquared]

A Very Jagged Take-Down Ch 1: Dissonant Chord

Marinette knows Jagged Stone, everyone knows that. She's his favorite niece, never mind the fact that they aren't actually related. And Jagged Stone is really famous, the exact kind of person that Lila loves claiming connections to.

That was never going to end the way Lila wanted it to.

(a collection of one-shots)

links in the reblog

Jagged Stone could admit that sometimes, he was a little bit oblivious to how other people were feeling. He was a little too boisterous, too distractible, too caught up in his own thoughts and ideas and plans. It caused problems, sometimes- Jagged had butted heads with more record managers than he cared to think about because his artistic vision differed from theirs, and sometimes he didn't come off particularly well in interviews because he was too busy thinking about other things to notice an interviewer trying to ask a different question- but he was working on it, and if he was oblivious to something, well, he did have Penny to clue him in.

Still, Jagged Stone had been trying to improve. Penny had been pretty stressed out on several occasions recently, and he had wanted to ease some of her load by being at least a little more observant. He had thought that he was doing really well.

Considering that he had apparently missed his niece's upset mood during his last visit to commission a stage outfit from her, he apparently wasn't doing as well as he wanted to.

"What do you mean, she was off?" Jagged Stone implored Penny again. "Penny, if I'm going to learn..."

"She was hiding it pretty well, to be fair," Penny assured him. "Especially when you were looking. But when your back was turned, she looked kind of stressed."

Jagged Stone frowned. That wasn't a good thing! Maybe he could help, though. "Do you know what she was upset about?"

"Do I- no, Jagged, I cannot figure out what people are upset about by looking at their body language!" Penny exclaimed, clearly exasperated. "And I didn't want to pry, not when she was trying to be professional with coming up with ideas for your commission."

Jagged Stone considered that. Then he perked up. "Do you think that you, just maybe, could sneakily bring it up with Marinette when you go over with my measurements tomorrow? If I can help my niece with anything, I want to!"

"Yes, yes, I can try," Penny promised, and then she sighed, rolling her eyes. "And we've talked about this, Jagged Stone. Marinette is not your niece."

"Who says that she isn't?" Jagged Stone demanded, planting his fists on his hips. "My niece in rock-n-roll! Her CD cover and glasses and the songs they inspired put me back at the top of the charts. I am an artist, she's an artist- family in actually kickass artistry!"

He didn't understand why Penny was rolling her eyes. Really.

  Penny returned the next day with several design sketches and barely hidden anger bubbling away under her professional demeanor. Jagged Stone picked up on it right away, ushering Penny into their room at the Grand Paris and getting her settled with a platter of her favorite chocolates.

He was rather proud of himself for that, really. He was learning! He hadn't missed Penny's stress!

"I found out what happened," Penny told him, inhaling a chocolate in one bite. She chewed angrily, then swallowed. "A week before we went over for brainstorming, Marinette got expelled from her school after getting framed for cheating, thief, and hurting another student. The other student walked back on her claims the next day," Penny added hastily before Jagged Stone could grab his guitar and storm over to Dupont to bash their blundering principal over the head. He hadn't been impressed by the man the one time- or was it two times, he really couldn't remember- that they had met, and clearly there was a reason for that. "And her expulsion was retracted. But she's still facing some skepticism from her teachers and classmates over the whole thing."

"Who would want to frame Marinette?" Jagged Stone demanded, thoroughly baffled. "Marinette is fantastic! They'd have to be a cruel, heartless soul to do such a thing."

"Yeah, well, that's kind of what this girl sounds like, honestly." Penny took another angry bite. "Marinette was telling me all about her. It's the daughter of a diplomat- or that's what she claims, at least- who keeps making up all of these stories about things she's done and people she's met. Marinette is one of the only people who doesn't believe a word she says, and the only one willing to call Lila out."

Jagged Stone nodded in approval. "Calling out bullies and liars is very rock and roll!"

"Less so when it gets her framed and expelled, but yes." Penny flopped back in her chair, then perked back up. "Something Marinette said- well, it sounded almost as though the liar girl was claiming connections to you. She stopped herself before I could get much more out of her, though."

He nearly exploded with indignation at that. "The liar girl is trying to use me to boost her status? How dare she! And going after my niece while she does-"

Penny sighed in exasperation. "No matter how often you say it, Marinette isn't actually your niece-"

"I'm going to put a stop to this nonsense," Jagged Stone announced, surging to his feet as a surge of energy hit him. Maybe he wasn't going to be in Paris for the next couple of weeks because he was on tour, but, well, that just gave him time to plan. "No liar will use my name to hurt Marinette! Now, if I can grab my computer-"

"We're meant to be heading to the train station to go to London in twenty minutes," Penny reminded him. "For a meeting in London with the new record company you were considering switching to."

"Of course! Penny, I would be lost without you." Jagged beamed at her, then dashed across the room. "I can bring my computer on the train! Plenty of time to think there, no problem. We have a private compartment, so I won't even be interrupted!"

Behind him, Penny could only sigh.

  It wasn't hard to find more information on the liar in Marinette's class. All it had taken was going to Marinette's social media, going to her Ladyblogger friend's page, and from there finding Alya's personal blog.

He felt a bit strange flipping through a teen girl's personal blog and it certainly wasn't something he would ever do normally, but Jagged Stone was on a mission and Alya's blog was a veritable treasure mine. Not even three minutes after he first found the blog, Jagged Stone had learned who the liar girl in question was and had found several of the claims that she had made, all so absolutely outrageous that Jagged Stone had to wonder how anyone believed them in the first place.

But outrageous or not, they had also given him an idea.

Lila had claimed that she had saved his cat, and that he had written a song for her in thanks. Now, he definitely wasn't going to be thanking her for anything, but he could certainly write a song about her.

It wasn't going to be flattering, and it wasn't going to call Lila out by name- Penny had helpfully informed him that doing so would probably land him in legal trouble, even before he had been able to voice the idea (which was super rock-n-roll, actually, that they were so much on the same wavelength!)- but the details that he was going to refer to, courtesy of the blog, would mean that anyone familiar with Lila would know exactly who he was referring to.

Jagged Stone already had some lyrics scribbled out on a sheet of paper and a couple bars of music to go with it, and it was going to be a banging song. Like, top-of-the-charts, definitely-on-the-radio, impossible-to-miss banging.

"The main problem I'm foreseeing here is that it takes time to release a song," Penny reminded Jagged as she bundled him and Fang into a town car and then got in herself. "You need at least seven songs usually in an album, and then there's the studio time, you know that, and-"

"So it'll get released as a single for now," Jagged Stone told her, because obviously he wasn't going to leave Marinette hanging for longer than he had to. What kind of uncle would he be if he did that? "Singles take less time! I can probably have a demo by the end of the week, and then if we can get a recording studio in any of the cities that we actually spend some time in, then I can get the tracks recorded and all ready for mixing and- oh!" Jagged froze, struck by the most perfect idea. "If we can get Marinette to do the cover art for the single, that would be perfect! Then she gets her bully taken down and some money besides- yes, I'll tell her about it right away and work around her schedule, Penny, I already know that- and I get some more awesome art!"

Penny rubbed her forehead, right between her eyebrows, but didn't protest further. "All right. But you know that if you want a cover that'll go along with the single, Marinette needs some direction. I just don't know how you'll keep it all a surprise."

"She can get the background demo tracks and a prompt list of words," Jagged Stone told her at once, because he had already considered that. He had been working on getting better at not leaving all of the thinking and planning up to Penny, too, even if she hadn't quite gotten used to that yet. "That will help her come up with a cover. And look, I've already started!"

"I...see that."

By the time they had boarded the train and were halfway to London, Jagged had gotten the main part of the song written down. The lyrics just needed tweaking, the drums could probably be shaken up, and he wanted to add a few more backing tracks and play with some effects, but he had been inspired and it showed.

"I'll check it against your other songs after the meeting and make sure that you're not accidentally borrowing from an old song," Penny told him as he enthusiastically tapped his pen against the seat of his chair, trying out different drum beats with the tune. "And then I suppose we can start work on demo tracks, if you're so determined to get this out fast."

Jagged Stone grinned. "That sounds perfect."

  In what was surely Jagged Stone's fastest turnaround time ever, he was ready. The song was written, the demo tracks had been polished up into the final tracks and had been professionally recorded and mixed, Marinette had gotten the single's art done (and it was amazing, of course, somehow absolutely perfectly fitting the song even though Marinette hadn't heard the lyrics yet), and everything was ready, all within a month's time.

(His new record company was none too thrilled that he hadn't given them time to promote it, but, well, he was big enough to drop a new single out of nowhere and have it succeed, so did it really matter?)

And then it dropped Monday morning. By mid-morning Paris time, it had exploded all over the radio and thousands of people had bought it already. His new record label was applauding it as a huge success, all of their complaints about the lack of promotion forgotten, critics were already praising both the song and the cover art-

-and Jagged Stone didn't care. He was more focused on if the song had done its work and had gotten rid of Marinette's liar problem.

"You are not allowed to call her up and beg to know what's going on," Penny instructed him sternly. "Marinette is in class right now, and you know that she'll reach out and keep you updated when she can. Now either sit down and stop pacing, or go give Fang a bath. Heaven knows that that will keep you busy."

"Oh, I suppose." Fang deserved a bath after putting up with their most recent bout of traveling, after all. Travel grime was ugh, even on a crocodile. "But let me know as soon as Marinette texts! I won't be able to check my phone, since my hands will be all wet, but I wanna know!"

"I promise. Now go, shoo- you're distracting me!"

Jagged shooed.

  Marinette had been a bit distracted all morning, and for once, it wasn't because of Adrien or her Guardian duties.

Ever since Jagged Stone had told her that he was going to be dropping a new single soon and asked her to do the art, Marinette had been looking forward to the song coming out. She didn't know what the song was about, exactly- Jagged Stone was being strangely cagey about getting any more specific about the lyrics- but he had sent along a basic demo track along with a few prompt words for her illustration and it sounded amazing. She could only imagine how awesome the final version- properly mixed, with all of the instruments ironed out and vocals and everything- would sound.

(And now it had some pretty awesome art to go along with it, if Marinette said so herself- dark, seething greens in the background stood in stark contrast to the trails of shimmery gold dust in the forefront. It was more abstract than some of her other covers, but Jagged Stone had proclaimed it the coolest thing ever and tossed her a bonus on top of the already-generous commission price, which was amazing.)

And then, right before lunch, Nino gave a shout of surprise.

"Jagged Stone just dropped a single!" Nino announced, waving his phone at everyone. "I didn't even know that he was thinking about releasing anything! Lila, did he tell you?"

"Well, yes, but he asked that I keep it secret," Lila said at once, pressing a hand to her chest. It was a common look on her, faux-humble in a sickly sweet way that made Marinette want to gag. "I even got to listen to it before it got released, and it's fantastic."

"This art is sick!" Nino exclaimed. Marinette peered over his shoulder, and- yup, Nino was already in the process of buying it. "'Not All That Glitters is Gold- man, I gotta get a poster of this art, I bet that the non-digital version actually does glitter!"

Marinette hid her smile. It did, actually.

"Yes, they're a fantastic artist, aren't they?" Lila bragged. "They're a very private person, but I introduced them to Jagged Stone- I thought that he might want a professional artist for this song."

All eyes shot to Marinette, waiting with bated breath to see her reaction. After a second, Lila gasped dramatically, hands flying to her mouth. "Oh! Not- not that there was anything wrong with the album cover you did, Marinette, just that-"

"It's funny that you say all of that," Marinette said, her voice icy-cold. "Because I did the cover art for Jagged's new song, and I have the art- with all of the layers, in case you want to claim that I just downloaded it- plus the in-progress demos that I sent to Jagged Stone, plus the invoice for that commission to prove it."

The class went silent.

"And you didn't introduce me to Jagged Stone, he reached out to me," Marinette added on. "And I have the emails for that, too. So you can cut it out with the lies now."

"Oh, silly me, I must have gotten the single mixed up with Jagged's next full album," Lila tittered hastily. "The professional that I recommended to him must be doing the full album, and I just misunderstood."

Marinette was pleased to see that this time, not everyone looked entirely convinced.

"Ms. Bustier, can we please listen to Jagged Stone's new song?" Nino asked as their teacher entered the classroom, shoving his hair up into the air. "Please? Marinette did the art, and Lila's already heard it because she's friends with Jagged!"

"Well, I suppose you can put it on while I get the lesson set up and collect the homework," Ms. Bustier said with a laugh. "That's so exciting, you two! Nino, you know how to connect to the room's speakers so that we can all hear it? At a reasonable volume," she added hastily as Nino got up. "If we get any more noise complaints, then we won't be allowed to have any music on for events for the rest of the school year."

"Got it, Ms. Bustier!"

"I can't believe that you got to do another cover for Jagged Stone!" Alya said excitedly as Nino hooked up his phone. "And you didn't say anything!"

"Of course not. Some of my commissions are secret-"

Marinette was cut off by the oh-so-familiar opening chords of Jagged's newest song, and she trailed off. The accompanying horns were new, and definitely attention-catching and fantastic. Marinette's breath caught in her throat, already blown away.

And then the lyrics started.

At first, Marinette didn't really hear anything out of place. Then she caught a mention of kittens on a runway and sat up straight. All around her, murmurs gave away that other people had heard the same thing and everybody sat up and listened as the song swung around into the chorus.

'Not all that glitters is gold! Hiding behind lies that were told

A dollar-store gem trying to pass herself off as a diamond!

Claims of connections abound, but none of her stories are sound

A liar, through and through!

Adrien spun around in his seat to look back at Marinette, just as Marinette realized what Jagged Stone had done and clapped her hands over her mouth in silent glee. He quirked an eyebrow at her, mouthing a silent did you ask him to do this? and Marinette shook her head.

No, she hadn't asked. She had mentioned Lila to Penny, though, after Penny had asked about why Marinette had been so down. Her parents had probably said more, if she was really being honest, and Penny had no doubt told Jagged Stone, who then came to the very logical and oh-so-Jagged conclusion that the best way to deal with the problem was by writing a call-out song. A call-out song that, by the sounds of it, included references to more than a few of Lila's lies, not just her ones concerning Jagged Stone, so there was no way to mistake who the song was referring to.

She definitely hadn't mentioned all of those to Penny.

In the back, Lila had gone white. More than a few classmates had turned around, sending her disgusted looks. Alya had frozen in her seat before whipping around, murder in her gaze. Even Ms. Bustier was looking incredibly suspicious as she made the connection between the lyrics and all of the stories that Lila had told over the months.

Lila's reign of lies had come to a very abrupt end, heralded by the sound of horns.

"You didn't even know that he was going to do that, did you?" Adrien asked her as soon as the song came to an end. "You looked so surprised!"

"He didn't let me hear the lyrics at all!" Marinette exclaimed, and wow, now she knew why. She was honestly starting to feel teary, because Jagged Stone had written this song for her, because she had been upset after Lila's expulsion attempt, and she knew just how much work went into making a song, and it- this was incredible. "Or really anything beyond vague prompt words. I knew that he knew about Lila, because Penny asked why I was feeling down and I told her, but this..."

Marinette would have assumed that just bursting into class would be more Jagged's style, over-the-top and impulsive and immediate, but maybe he had just been too inspired by the topic and the idea of a song to think of that. And whether or not that was the intention, the song was so catchy, so bound to be popular, there was no way that Lila would be able to escape it. She would be hearing it on the car radio, playing in the train station and on the bus and in the mall. If Lila was on her own, she could leave, or turn it off. But if she was with classmates, or her mom- assuming that her mom didn't actually know what Lila had been up to all this time- then Lila would have to sit and stew.

...maaaybe that wasn't a great thing if she was going to be staying in Paris, but with any luck, it would drive Lila so mad that she would leave.

"That's one heck of a call-out by Jagged!" Kim cackled loudly, breaking through the muted muttering. "Wow, how ticked off did you have to make him for him to go out of his way to write and produce a song calling you out?"

"No, it's not what it looks like- I swear, he's just, uh..." Lila was floundering. There really was no easy way to get out of this, but clearly she was going to try anyway. "You know not all song lyrics are literal! I did save his cat, and he did write a song for me, it's just that-"

"What's the name of the so-called song Jagged Stone wrote for you called, then?" Nino asked sarcastically. "'Clinging to the coattails of fame without any dignity'?"

Marinette choked on a laugh before hastily trying to hide it. Across the aisle, Chloe was far less subtle as she cackled in delight, clearly thrilled by Lila's messy downfall.

Marinette wasn't surprised. Chloe was far less impressed by connections and tall tales than a lot of their peers, but she was absolutely the sort of person to be bitter about how much attention Lila had been getting. It meant less attention on Chloe, and that just couldn't stand.

"Okay, class, please settle down!" Ms. Bustier implored. She was glancing around the classroom, clearly trying to figure out a path forward. "Ah, Lila, let's step out to talk to the principal and call your mom."

"No, but a song from a rock star is hardly considered any sort of reliable source, surely!" Lila cried, still not willing to give up and come quietly. "He's met thousands of people, why would everybody assume that he's talking about a real person? That he's talking about me?"

"Lila. Now."

Finally looking properly wilted, Lila gathered up all of her things in a rush, stuffing them roughly in her bag before heading out the door in front of Ms. Bustier. All around Marinette, whispers started up, some people comparing notes on stories Lila had told and finally (FINALLY) looking them up, others looking up the lyrics to the song. Marinette ignored them all, fumbling for her phone and pulling up Jagged Stone's contact number.

Seriously, how was she supposed to thank him? He had gone to so much work, gone so far out of his way, just for her. Because it was for her, Marinette knew that. Jagged Stone had plenty of over-eager fans that sometimes went overboard with things, and of course there were tabloids that loved to make up stories about him. Jagged Stone ignored all of them the best he could- well, until they got too intrusive, at least, like that one photographer- instead of slapping back. There was no reason for him to go out of his way just for Lila, when she looked at it that way. Lila and her lies wouldn't even appear on Jagged Stone's radar, if it weren't for Marinette. But that hadn't made a difference to Jagged.

Seriously. Best. Uncle. Ever.

(Well. Best not-technically-an-uncle ever. After all, Penny always insisted that Jagged Stone couldn't just adopt Marinette as his niece, no matter how much he wanted to.)

With shaky fingers and happy tears blurring her vision, Marinette texted a quick thank-you to Jagged, hoping that he could feel all of her gratitude through the few simple words that she managed to pull together. Without the constant threats from Lila hanging over her head- either because Lila would be gone or because she would be so thoroughly discredited by everyone that she would be powerless- and without having to constantly be at odds with most of her friends about Lila and her lies, Marinette's days at school would be much more enjoyable and relaxed.

  Penny glanced at Jagged Stone's phone for the fifty-seventh time in an hour and a half. His phone kept lighting up with all sorts of messages- from his new producers, from celebrity and non-celebrity friends alike, from his family members- and she had kept checking it, noting messages that needed to be responded to as she did.

It was exhausting, especially since Penny had her own correspondence to attend to- questions about integrating the new song into set lists, requests for interviews about the new song, and an ongoing back-and-forth with Jagged Stone's lawyer to make sure that he wasn't going to get in legal trouble for the song (since no names were mentioned, he was in the clear as long as he didn't call out Lila during any interviews, but she just wanted to be prepared). Frankly, Penny was tempted to put Jagged's phone on mute and just ignore it for a bit before checking to see if Marinette had reached out. After all, she would be in school right now, so the likelihood of Marinette and her classmates being able to listen to the song before lunch was, well, rather low-

Message from: Marinette Dupain-Cheng

-but Penny supposed that it wasn't entirely impossible.

"Message from Marinette!" Penny called out, and there was a yelp and a clatter as Jagged Stone dropped the broom he was using to scrub Fang to dash out to the main room and snatch up his phone. He grinned at the message, whooping in triumph.

"They listened to it in class and all of her classmates figured it out right away!" Jagged announced. "And the liar girl got carted off to the principal's office and her mother is being called, so she's dealt with. Score!"

"Yes, good job," Penny told him, resigned to hearing about it for the next month, at least. Jagged Stone was going to be too caught up in the euphoria of his success to be much use, so she would have to deal with all of the setting up appointments. "Your idea worked, Marinette's bully has been dealt with. Can you relax now?"

Jagged didn't seem to hear her. "You know what, I'm going to call up room service and we can all have a feast to celebrate! And- oh, I should text Marinette back, 'cause I wanna get any more updates! I just want to make sure that the little eel doesn't manage to slither out of punishment again. I doubt even she can get out of it now, but I gotta follow through!"

Penny could only sigh as Jagged Stone bounced away across the room. As he went, Penny could hear him singing under his breath.

Tea with a prince, talking about charity

She's too kind, too good to be

Working to save the world, she always tries

Except everything she says are self-serving lies!

Not all that glitters is gold! Hiding behind lies that were told

A dollar-store gem trying to pass herself off as a diamond-!