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onceuponapuffin · 3 hours

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Fanatic Intervention Part 19!!!

Okay SO, that last poll was insane. Everytime I tried to break the tie by calling in a friend, you all tied it again! Even after the poll ended! You talented lot, you. In the end, the only way I could think to do it, was to split the difference. AND SO we get a half-and-half situation. Honestly, I legit love the way all of you keep me on my toes. It makes writing this so much fun.

Alrighty then. Let's do this.

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The toilet seat art museum took more out of you than you thought. Anathema too, as it happens, because you find out very quickly that she snores. Not wanting to wake her up, you tuck your phone away so she can sleep in the quiet, and weirdly enough, her snoring becomes like white noise, and after a few minutes, you find yourself drifting off as well. It isn’t long before both humans are asleep, leaving the celestials to their own devices.

For a while, they continue on in silence. Well, “silence” is technically the wrong word, but the point is, they don’t talk. Crowley is driving, Aziraphale is in the passenger’s seat, and Sardis sits in the middle of the backseat. For a while, there is nothing except Anathema’s snoring. Honestly, they put up with the sound for a surprisingly long time.

Crowley’s patience runs out first. He needs to hear something that isn’t snoring, so he goes for the radio. Which, as it turns out, is a bit of a mistake. You see, the SUV has now had the benefit of Celestial Energy for a couple of days, and has started to wake up – slowly mind you. With you being in charge of the music with a playlist, it’s had some time to listen to a wide variety of music. It is now developing its own mind and its own taste. Remember that this is not the Bentley. The Bentley likes Queen. The SUV is a significantly younger model, and has decided it rather likes Taylor Swift. And when Crowley turns on the radio for the first time, it’s the equivalent of handing the car control of the playlist. So it decides to lead with Wildest Dreams, which, for those unfamiliar, goes like this:

He said “Let’s get out of this town,

Drive out of the city, away from the crowds.”

I thought “Heaven can’t help me now”

Nothing lasts forever

But this is gonna take me down

He’s so tall, and handsome as Hell

He’s so bad, but he does it so well.

I can see the end as it begins

My one condition is

Crowley slams the OFF button, intentionally with more force than necessary. Finally, after days of forcing them to listen to your songs, the brainrot is spreading.

“Are you alright there, Crowley?” Aziraphale asks gently.

“Fine, Angel,” Crowley mutters through gritted teeth, “Just remind me to throw that human’s blasted phone out the window next chance I get.”

“As long as they are also willing to play my symphonies, I will do no such thing.”

Crowley humphs, and settles back down. Sardis is smiling in the back seat. He waits a moment before speaking.

“So how long have the two of you been together?” he asks. Crowley swerves, but Aziraphale grabs the steering wheel to hold the car steady. Aziraphale gives Crowley a chastising look.

“Crowley, do get a hold of yourself dear, the humans are sleeping.”

“Why should I care?” he growls, definitely because he is a demon and definitely not because if the humans were to wake up there would be a buffer so they wouldn’t have this conversation. Definitely.

Aziraphale sighs. “We’re not, I’m afraid,” he says, “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Can’t fool me, sunshine. I’ve been around too.”

“Can I at least throw him out the window?” Crowley mutters. Aziraphale ignores him.

“It’s best not to discuss it,” he says instead to Sardis, “Rather a dangerous topic.”

Sardis hums to himself thoughtfully. “I mean, we’re staring the end of the world in the face,” he says, “But sure.” And he leaves it there. Silence returns. Actual silence, as Anathema has finally stopped snoring. Suddenly the air feels thick and uncomfortable. Aziraphale clears his throat.

“It’s very kind of you to be helping us,” Aziraphale tries.

“Yeah well,” Sardis says with a shrug, “Not exactly keen on the world ending. I’d rather not go to Heaven OR Hell if I can help it.”

“Oh come now, Heaven’s not all that bad.”

“You ever been?” Sardis asks with a chuckle. Crowley snorts a laugh despite himself. “There, you see,” Sardis says, pointing at the demon, “He gets it.” Aziraphale sits back with a harumph, and decides that staring out the window is the better option after all.

This time the silence lasts another hour at least. The sky is darkening, the stars appearing over the sparse Texas landscape. Out here in the middle of practically nowhere, the sky is hardly sleeping. There are millions of stars out here. Far from the light pollution they even have different colours, and there is a faint white swipe across the sky – the Milky Way Galaxy, visible to the naked eye from one of its own resident planets. Dear Reader, if ever you get a chance to get away away from the light pollution, do so. It is breathtaking.

At least, it is until Anathema snorts and grumbles awake.

“My neck hurts,” she complains, still half asleep. She blinks herself into a more-coherent state. “If we don’t pull over so I can get a good sleep, I will curse every single one of you.” She rolls her head to the other side and mutters “I will. I know how.”

The celestials look at each other.

“I think,” Aziraphale says, “That perhaps resting for the night would be a good thing.”

Crowley nods, if only because he doesn’t want to test Anathema’s threat. It doesn’t take long for them to find a convenient motel conveniently located just off the road they are currently on. Conveniently. Because I say so.

This is also when you wake up. You’re groggy and sore, but the lights of the motel bring you out from the lull of sleep, and as soon as your brain realizes you are at a motel, you wake up fast. Why? Because you are at a motel. While on a mission to save the world. Your fan-brain is already going at a hundred miles an hour by the time Crowley parks. You practically jump out of the car. Does this place have a weird gimmick or theme? Does it have a pool? A sketchy lobby? Local supernatural lore?? You have questions and you need to know. But, ah, not alone. At a random sketchy motel. In the middle of nowhere. At night. So you hesitate and wait for everyone else to get themselves together and exit the vehicle. Crowley pops the trunk so you can go get your bag, and by the time you get back, Sardis and Aziraphale are already gone – checking you all in, no doubt.

Under the questionable fluorescent lights, you can see a wooden gate. Well, I mean...curiosity such and such, right? You saunter over, and peek between the boards. It looks like...Yes! A pool! Will you be swimming in it? Absolutely not. Are you excited that this place has one anyway? Absolutely yes.

“Okay,” Sardis calls behind you. You turn around and see him waving a card key against a door. “I’m all set. Good night folks!” You wave to him as he disappears into his room and the door clicks shut behind him. Aziraphale walks to the next room and opens it with a similar card key. You follow. Honestly, you’re expecting him to have expanded the room into another Royal Suite or something, but when you follow him into the room you find...a normal motel room with two beds. Oh, this is excellent. You turn to face Crowley and Aziraphale with a huge smile on your face.

“I am not sharing a bed with either of you,” You declare, “Because you,” You point at Aziraphale, “Will definitely be awake all night reading with the light on. And you” You point at Crowley “Are exactly the type to take all the blankets. I will share with Anathema because we actually need to sleep. SO as far as YOU TWO are concerned – THERE’S ONLY ONE BED!!” You stand there with your hands on your hips. You are triumphant. You have won. There is only one bed. A fan’s dream! Fanfiction trope come to life! Everything seems possible and wonderful for a moment…

Until Aziraphale hands you another card key.

“You and Miss Device are in the room next door,” he says. Damn. Logic. You deflate really quickly and take the key with a huff. As you approach the door, you turn to look at them over your shoulder.

“I hope you share anyway,” You mutter, before you exit.

The room next door is identical. Anathema, apparently, is able to fall asleep pretty quickly, but you can’t settle your brain that easily. So you may or may not spend some time trying that trick where you put a glass up against the wall to try and hear what’s on the other side. Not that you want to snoop, but, well, yeah okay you want to snoop a little. Unfortunately it doesn’t work, so you give up and watch tik tok on your phone instead. Your battery hasn’t needed recharging since you started hanging out with supernatural entities. Funny, that. Between Tik Tok, Reddit, and Tumblr, you’re able to eventually wear out your brain enough to make closing your eyes a good call. And from there you fall back asleep with no issue.

And yes, Dear Reader, Crowley and Aziraphale did share a bed. Just so you know.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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aclosetfan · 1 year

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sheesh, i finally finished it. Bloomer fans (3 ppl) this one's for us.

t/w: underage drinking, but they're like 19-20 not 5 lol

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“You’re not drinking!” Boomer announced, shoving a finger in her face, “Whys not?”

Blossom hit his hand away and frowned, “Because. Don’t be rude.”

Boomer took a long swig from his red solo cup before addressing her with a lopsided smile, “Because you’re afraid you may have fuuunnn?”

She glared at him, “It’s because, one, we’re underage. Two, someone has to be responsible.”

“Brick’s not drinking!” Boomer quipped, pointing to Brick, already passed out on a random couch, “They’s responsible, you know, so you don’t gotta!”

She continued to frown and shook her head. “Go, Boomer.”

“But,” he pouted, “we’re supposed to be havin’ fun!”

She wrinkled her nose a bit and shrugged, looking off, “This isn’t really my kind of...fun, Boomer. Really, I’m alright. I don’t mind.”

Actually, she minded quite a bit. Breaking the law wasn't fun, thank you very much. The very idea that they, the Powerpuff Girls, could be caught red-handed with underage drinkers flared her anxiety to almost uncontrollable levels. And so, she had forbidden her sisters to come to this dumb party and then fought against them tooth and nail when they ambushed and dragged her along.

When they had made it to the party, Buttercup and Bubbles had given up on her almost immediately after it became clear that she would not be enjoying herself. She figured that would happen and planned to leave when their backs were turned, but the idea of leaving them here without a sober companion made her heart palpitate. So instead, she had taken up post by the front door, glowering at anyone who dared to talk to her.

Unfortunately, Boomer was notorious for ignoring the obvious.

"But how do you know!" He argued, "You've never even try it, Bumbles told me!"

"Bubbles," She corrected, "and, well, just...because, now, go find Butch or something."

He didn't listen (typical) and stood before her, pouting. "Because why? Cause you're afraid of fun?"

She huffed and crossed her arms, not at all interested in discussing her (arguable) control issues. "Go find Butch, Boomer."

"He's with Butters," He finally explained, which distracted him enough to ramble on, "and oof those two, amiright? Getta room."

"Then, find Bubbles."

He stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry, "She's fightin' fer money right now, and listen," he pointed to himself, "I'ma bad guy, but tha's still not my scene."

"I'm sorry. What is she doing?" She blinked, but Boomer ignored her, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

"And Brick's all not drinkin' right now—"

"—passed out—"

"—right, tomato-tamato, but then I saw you standing here all by your lonesome and thought, Boomer! She looks like she needs a drink! Soooo, let's go get you one!"

"Boomer, no." She said sternly.

"But it's fun!"

"No."

He slumped against her and sighed, "yeah, okay, but at least come hang out with us."

Guilt rocked her stomach. She hadn't believed her sisters when they told her Boomer specifically requested she come with them this time, but the look on his face made her think they were actually telling the truth.

This wasn't the first party the brothers had invited them to that she had bailed on, and she was pretty sure it was starting to hurt Boomer's feelings. She supposed they were friendly enough with the boys that it was a little insulting, from their perspective, that she never attempted to hang out with them on their terms as opposed to her own. Still, she had always figured they'd have more fun without her, given the fact she was better at killing parties than being the life of them.

In fact, the last time she had seen any of the boys was when she had an unexpected run-in with Boomer, and he had helped her deal with some electrical giant by the power plant when her sisters were otherwise engaged with other hero-related activities. He had come to investigate the power plant issue himself because the monster had killed the internet, which had ruined his "kill streak" on some videogame he was currently obsessed with. Therefore, the problem had become too personal for him to ignore. He had actually been quite helpful in the endeavor. She had admittedly forgotten about his ability to manipulate electrical currents, but she was exceedingly grateful for it that day, and she had said as much to him.

Boomer had blushed, shrugged, and acted surprisingly bashful about it, and now, he wanted to have a drink with her.

She pressed her lips together and weighed her options. On the one hand, she knew she felt she may have owed him, but she also knew that she, in fact, did not owe him anything when it came to the consumption of goods. But it was such a simple request, and he was at least a good sport about her irritable behavior.

With a long sigh, she said, "One drink. I will try one drink with you, and then I'll be going home."

Boomer's face lit up, and he took her hand in his, leading her into the thick of the party. He continued babbling as she followed after him. She had no idea what he was saying, but he seemed rather confident saying it, waving his arms around as he spouted off a string of slurred words.

‘He never actually stops talking, does he?’ She thought.

She was quite aware that alcohol was a social lubricant, but she figured since Boomer didn’t need any help with socializing, alcohol would have had a somewhat calming effect and made him not so bouncy, but no, it seemed he had even more energy to spare.

He brought her to a table tucked away in the corner of the kitchen where the floors had exceeded an uncomfortable level of sticky and began mixing a drink. She stood awkwardly by him, highly aware of how people kept a wide breadth, staring at Boomer like he was out of his mind. She scowled at them until a red solo cup was pushed into her hands.

"Ta-da! A—" He hiccupped, "—dirty Shirley!"

She looked at the red drink skeptically before turning her attention back to him, “What should I expect?”

“Hmmm,” he tapped his chin in thought as his drink sloshed over the rim of his cup. “Well, Buttercup’s soooo giggly and Bub—Bub is like fighting everybody...maybe you’ll be like not boring, like fun and stuff?”

“I’m not boring!” She stiffened and paused, “Do people think I’m boring?”

“Yeah, pretty much!” Boomer hummed, taking a sip of his drink. Then, swaying to the beat of the music, he shrugged and continued, “S’not so bad! You’re just so...” his nose wrinkled, “booky?”

The brute honesty stung a little, but she wasn’t surprised. Boomer would have probably said the same thing sober too.

She gave the cup an uncomfortable look and then glanced back up at Boomer. He was watching her with slow, uncoordinated blinks, but watching her all the same. When he noticed she was looking at him, he gave her an encouraging smile.

“Go’on!” He hummed, nudging the drink with his own, “I made it extra sweet! Won’t taste a thing!”

She sniffed the drink, and it made her nose crinkle as the overwhelming smell of cherry grenadine irritated her sinuses. Still, artificial flavoring did a poor job of masking the ethanol smell wafting from the connection. And, quite frankly, she was of the opinion that there was no sprite in this drink whatsoever.

“I-I—you’ll stay with me?” She clarified, and Boomer shook his head.

“S’course, Bossy!”

She took a deep breath, brought the cup to her lips, and then slightly back down. This made him frown again, but she shook her head and gave him an inquisitive look.

“I—okay, before, what if I do something stupid? What if I make a bad decision or something, and the whole world finds out?”

Boomer's million-watt smile brightened the dingy corner, "Well, Bloss," he started rather eloquently, given his inebriation, "I don't mean to brag or anything, but I don't even have to be drunk to make really bad decisions! And look at me; people still think I'm fucking awesome!"

In a way, the loud confession was slightly comforting. It was misguided, of course. Also, arrogant. But still, slightly comforting. But Boomer was well-liked. Her?

...not so much.

He must have seen it on her face because his smile dimmed.

He raised his right hand and put his drink over his heart, "I promise on my parole officer's life, nothing bad's gonna happen. You're just gonna try it, just once, and decide."

She sighed, frowned at the liquid in her cup, and returned the cup to her mouth.

The alcohol barely touched her lips, coating them in a sickly sweet taste that she licked tentatively. Her heart rammed against her ribs, and for a heartstopping moment, she thought she was already drunk and had to fight back tears. Of course, the reaction was ridiculous, but now that the deed was done, every bad thing that could happen sat at the forefront of her mind. Without thinking, she reached for Boomer's arm to steady herself.

"I don't think I can do this," She shook her head, trying to return the cup, "this is—it's too much. I'm sorry."

He stepped back and looked genuinely surprised, "Hey, okay, it's okay, don't look so freaked out, you don't gotta! Here, here, give it to me."

"Sorry," She breathed, "sorry this was stupid, I'm not—I'm not like you," she ignored the furrowed, almost offended look on his face, "I'm not fun, Boomer, I'm like the least fun person ever, and this is—" She shook her head, trying so hard to keep the panic at bay, "—something bad will happen, I just know it. I can't have fun because what if something bad happens and I can't keep control of it and—"

The offended look morphed quickly back into surprise as her grip on him tightened. A normal human wouldn't have appreciated the tight, painful grip, but he wasn't a normal human. He put their cups down and reached for her shoulders.

"Blossom! Dude, it's okay. Look at me. Everything's okay. Look, we're fine! Everyone's fine!" He gestured around the room, speaking over her rambling, and when she quieted down enough to follow his directions, people were very much staring.

More panic flared, and she pulled away from him with a terrified squeak. Freaking out was not a Powerpuff thing to do in public.

"Ohhhkay," Boomer announced, abandoning the drinks and pulling her out a set of sliding glass doors leading to the back patio. She welcomed the blast of cold air and broke free from him, bounding down the patio steps and around the corner of the house. There, she sunk down the wall and sat with her head between her knees, breathing.

She wanted nothing more than to call the professor but didn't want to risk getting her sisters in trouble.

"Blossom?" Boomer peeked around the corner, "Shit! Are you okay?"

She jumped at his voice and shot up, wiping her eyes, "Yep! Fine! Sorry, um, I, it's, uh, in there that was weird, wasn't it. Sorry. Ignore that. I'm fine, totally."

Boomer frowned, "So, like, I know you're not, though. Should I get Buttercup or—"

"No!" She interrupted, "No, please don't. She'll be all worried, and it'll ruin her fun, and I'm just—" She deflated, giving up the act as she sunk back to the ground. Who cared? He was drunk anyway, right?

"I'm overwhelmed, that's all. I'm sorry. I know you were just trying to get me to have fun, but it freaks me out. My whole life, I've been on, always trying my best and never feeling like it's good enough, and anytime I ever do anything fun," She shook her head like the word itself was offensive, "it just backfires."

He slid down next to her, "that sucks."

She snorted, "yeah, that's a pretty good word for it."

"Your sisters don't seem to care?"

She looked at him and shrugged, "they worry about other things."

He nodded, "yeah, I get that."

"Do you?" She quirked an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Yeah, before—" He broadly gestured, rolling his eyes, "—I was the one in charge of worrying about like food and shit, you know, when we lived in the middle of the fucking forest because that was a real bright idea, Brickhead. That guy," he snorted, "and they say I'm the dumb one."

She giggled, "Brick's too stubborn for his own good."

"You're tellin' me!"

They sat for a while outside, watching the stars, when Boomer spoke up again. It was the longest bout of silence she had ever heard from him.

"Sorry if I pressured you or something in there. I just didn't want you to go."

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her knees, "It's okay. It wasn't like you were acting maliciously. You were just being...sweet."

"Don't tell my brothers, okay?" He smiled, "I've got a rep, you know."

She crossed her heart and locked her lips.

"You know, though, you may wanna think about drinking with your sisters sometime or something. You don't want your first time being drunk stuck at some snotty benefit or with some shit company, just in case. Learned that from experience." His face darkened.

"I feel like I remember hearing something about that."

"My brothers gambled me off!" He threw up his arms, "They lost me in a bet! To Boogie! Who does that!"

She laughed again and slapped a hand over her mouth when he shot her a look, "Sorry!" She spoke through her fingers, "Sorry! Not funny!" But then, she snorted and spit, and soon, they were both laughing.

"Hey?" She asked after they had calmed down.

"Yeah?" He wiped a tear from his eye.

"Could I, well, if you wouldn't mind, could I try again?"

"Drinking?"

"Mhm, if you, um, wouldn't mind staying with me, that is."

Boomer's face broke into a wide, gleaming smile, "duh."

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A pair of arms wrapped around her, and even with the brain fog, she braced herself for an attack and felt silly for it a second later.

"Blossy," Buttercup pressed a smile into her temple. Her breath was warm, and she leaned heavily on her, but the weight was welcomed. It wasn't every day Buttercup initiated a hug, and despite Blossom being the less physical of the three, she leaned into her sister's arms, or more like, practically collapsed.

Nothing bad happened when Buttercup was around. It was the best part about her. It honestly made Blossom a little jealous of how naturally "being a hero" came to her sister and not her, but currently, she pushed that from her mind and enjoyed the warmth.

"Are you still mad at us?" Buttercup laughed, pulling away slightly with a broad, pretty smile, "Boomer teaching you how to have fun?"

The two questions right in a row confused her for a moment, so she shook her head and then corrected herself and nodded.

"I think, uh, I think so?" She murmured back, aware people were watching them but doing an excellent job ignoring their gazes' weight. A first, in her experience.

Buttercup laughed and didn't ask her to clarify whether she thought she was mad or learning to have fun, which was fine by Blossom. Her thoughts were rolling away from her anyway.

"Course I am!" Another arm looped around her shoulders, pulling her into Boomer's chest, "We're doing great, right, Bloss?"

"Yeah," She agreed, relaxing in his hold as she took another sip from her red solo cup. After that, she lost track of the conversation, but Boomer's arm remained around her shoulders, tethering her to reality.

The room they all sat in seemed murky around the edges as she watched the group. Buttercup, surprisingly, held the spotlight. Her laughter was infectious, and Blossom couldn't help but notice how Bubbles she was being. She smiled into her cup as Buttercup launched into another nonsense story that Butch and Robin kept correcting the details of. Boomer would also chime in, prodding on the conversation. He and Buttercup commanded the room together, and she was somehow there with them, soaking it all up.

"Nooo," Buttercup giggled, arguing with Robin, "that's totally not what happened."

Butch snorted, his head lulling to the side as his free hand massaged Buttercup's neck, "babe, that's exactly how it happened."

"No, no," She smiled, letting her head bump against his, "Bloss, you remember, right, there were three snake monsters, not one?"

She blinked, swimming back to the surface at the sound of her name, "Uh, yeah?"

"See!" Buttercup pointed, "Even Blossom agrees with me! Three, not one!"

Butch laughed, sitting up, "Oh please, come on, listen, hey, Red?"

She smiled at him. Butch called her and Brick "Red," and it was cute but also sometimes confusing because who was he talking to? But, then he'd say, ack, both of you always have something to say, so both of you might as well listen, but he'd say it with more curse words, and not exactly like that either, but close, and then, she remembered Butch was waiting for her to answer.

"Yeah?"

"I've got blue hair, right?"

She smiled with him, forgetting the question almost instantly, "Um, yes?"

"No, shush, you're just trying to trick her," Buttercup waved him off over the sound of her own laughter, "no, she remembers, she does!"

Again, the conversation began to dull around her as she sank back into the murky waters of her brain.

Boomer squeezed her shoulders, and she looked up at him with a sluggish blink.

"Still good?" He smiled at her, "How you feelin'?"

She shook her head, but it took her a minute to verbally answer.

"Good," She agreed, more interested in the feel of him next to her and the rumbly sound his chest made when he talked than her state of intoxication, "murky. Dizzy. Uh, slow, but, uh, relaxed? I think relaxed? I don't know. What does that feel like, relaxed?"

He shrugged, his smile growing wider, "I think...like that, actually."

"Oh." She nodded, "That's nice. Good to know."

He laughed, and it was all she could focus on.

"That's nice too," she explained, "have I told you that before? You have a nice laugh."

His eyes crinkled, and he moved to say something, but now, words she couldn't find earlier started bubbling up her throat, and she didn't want to stop them.

"Thank you, by the way," She tangled her fingers with his hand dangling over her shoulder, "for encouraging me to do this and staying with me. I know this is probably boring for you, cause you know, you're bouncy and stuff, but I appreciate it. This was," She looked away from him and shook her head, agreeing with her own thoughts before blurting, "yeah, this was a smart idea, Boom, yeah, uh, yeah, smart, you know, getting drunk for the first time while I'm with people who care about me, and not, you know, some other time."

"Oh!" Boomer blinked a few times, and it seemed now, it was his turn to be at a loss for words, and that was interesting to Blossom because Boomer always had something to say, "uh, yeah, it's, uh—" He cleared his throat and shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, "—no problem, Bloss. Do you want more?"

He gestured to her cup, and she shook her head, "No thank you, I think—" She hiccupped, "—I think that was enough, but can we still sit here?"

"Yeah," He agreed, "yeah, that'd be, uh, sure, no problem."

Taking a page out of Buttercup's book, Blossom gave him a big smile before leaning her head against his shoulder. With a contented sigh, feeling safe and relaxed, she let her eyes slip close, enjoying the conversation flowing around her. It was pretty alright not being boring.

#Bloomer #Bloss wakes up the next morning like: wow what a great bonding moment between me and Boom we're so much closer now :)#and boomer's like AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #bubbles wakes up the leader of a fight club #Butch and Buttercup [redacted]#brick wakes up in a dumpster behind mcdonalds with two half-eaten taco bell tacos in his hands #and he's just like okay. better than the white castle's ig. this is growth #hate to inform the readers im most like brick #s/o to my friends who pulled me back into a moving vehicle when they told me we would not be getting the Bell #i was like aigh thnx for the ride mates adios #ladies please ignore the pacing issues in this one i stopped caringggg

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