#which I know is what led me to the CD but then... her name never comes up again

[televinita]

Biggest Mess-Ups So Far:

(this is mostly a self-shaming exercise)

* you put three Sarah McLachlan albums on here while forgetting your actual fave Afterglow?!?

* “I really only like 2 or 3 of the very best songs on Carla Bruni’s debut, right?” *listens to it* no you fool, this entire set is a beautiful acoustic stroll through a Parisian neighborhood on a Saturday afternoon!

* “I know that 2 of Groban’s albums are like, 30-45% skippable songs so we’ll just save time and not add them in the first place” / “oh I see, you think that *checks notes* Avril Lavigne’s shouty clap-happy juvenile regression album is better?” (it’s off now)

* how did I completely forget Halsey’s one good album

* took me days of shuffling the order to notice I’d blanked on writing down Bree Sharp, with an album I have loved since high school and still love so much I have made an entire post about it, analyzing that love track by track.

[sourellie]

hiii 🌷 could you please do gf!abby!!!! gf!ellie was so good i need more

hi honey!!! so sorry this took me so long to write...usual bad grammar and such.. overall headcanons and thoughts. me trying not to use the word yall. um mention of the word boobies. again on and off non apocalypse au. that's it i think Enjoy!!! ◠ ̫◠

while i know she's a strong woman. mentally and physically. i think she just wants to be babied. especially after a long day of patrol?!?! she comes home n jus lays with u while u take her hair out of the braid and rake your fingers through it. SHE LOVES IT!!!!!

ok i know i said this exact same thing about ellie. but she's a sleepy girl too!!! like if it was a competition abby would win by a mile. she comes home gets borderline naked, left in boxers with her boobies out, she hits the bed and within seconds she's out like a damn light

n also. i think she snores, not loud but you can definitely hear it n Its So Cute!!!! :333

and, hear me when i say this if you aren't in the bed with her she won't sleep. Refuses actually she could be so tired but if u aren't there Forget It!!!! she used to not sleep at all unless u were sleeping too but as i said, this girl has gotten progressively sleepier over the years

i think before you two started dating, you were the type of friends where everyone thought you were dating. which caused a few problems...but you two kinda led it on? without realizing? holding hands, always with each other, sharing beds. n you would wonder why people thought that?? "so you two aren't dating?" you and abby hand in hand shoulder to shoulder "no why would you think that?"

speaking Of!!! she was the first to realize she actually liked you, of course like i said your friendship had always been lovey dovey, so it was hard for her to take time out to realize her feelings for you were more than just really good friends who sometimes shared a kiss on occasion. it came naturally to her to confess, but nothing really changed. just more kisses for abby!!!!!

very clingy and forgive me for this but she would hold your hand while you peed if she could. she loves holding ur hand. idk if she's too big on pda tho.

either way she loves to follow you everywhere. like i said. if you got up to go to another room, she was right there behind u. sometimes she scares u cuz she's So quiet. "What are you doing?" u turn around and she's blocking the doorway

she loves to listen to u talk. blabbing about nothing and she'd still listen like it's the most important thing.

she has a Ton of cds you name it she probably has it. peter frampton, fleetwood mac!!! (two of my personal favs). she likes to sing them to u. n i think she likes dad rock as well, she picked it up obviously from her dad LOL.

for the girls that wear makeup (me :ppp) i think she loves when you leave kiss marks on her!!!! it's so sweet to her she'd never wash it off if you let her

i may dabble more with the friends before dating business in something bigger at a later date. hope u enjoyed. ･᷄-･᷅

[yuriko-mukami]

Star-Crossed Canvas

Chapter 01 || Chapter 02 || Chapter 03 || Chapter 04

Inspiration for this story came from the art I commissioned and a conversation with @ruki-mukami-dl 's admin. After talking about the art piece with her, I simply had to write this. She has betaread the story. For the longest time, I have wanted to write a DL drama CD-like story, yet, it seems I'm unable to pull off the script-styled writing. I admire everyone who can do it, but personally, I feel like I can't express my visions properly with that. So, once again I went on with prose. Still, I would say that this story is also inspired by DL drama CDs. And I actually would love to see what kind of star-crossed canvases other DL OCs would run into with their lovers. So, if you find the theme inspiring enough, make your own version of it. And tag me. I want to see it too.

Art made by @dlyuiannii as a commission.

Chapter 01

“You have two hours.” The teacher gazed at the third-years she had brought to the special exhibition of the art museum of Kaminashi City. It was sponsored by Sakamaki Tougo and was only open during late hours. “I want you to walk through the museum, pick up a painting, and analyze it. Make notes on how the artist has used colors and how that relates to the artistic trends of the era. Later you will write an essay where you combine these facts with your personal experience of the painting.”

Yuriko listened closely to everything the teacher said and wrote down the instructions. So interesting! She peeked at the earlier notes she had made during the classes. Yosh! She could pull this off!

Suddenly, Yuriko felt how arms snaked around her waist and a jaw landed on her shoulder. A familiar musky scent greeted her nose, making the corners of her mouth instantly curl up.

“Did you get everything, my angel?” Ruki’s whisper sneaked into Yuriko’s ear, sending shivers down her spine.

Yuriko nodded and lifted her hand, showing her notes to Ruki. “Yes. I think so. I know what we are supposed to do.”

“Good girl.” Ruki chuckled. “Then let us go. We need to find our piece of art.”

Their piece of art. Yuriko’s heart skipped a beat. Ruki wanted to use the same painting as her which meant they could do everything together before writing their essays. And later they could compare their thoughts. So perfect!

“Yes, let’s hurry.” Yuriko pushed the notebook into her school bag and meandered around, meeting Ruki’s gaze. “You know… I’m happy that you decided to join me in the art history class.”

Leaning in, Ruki brushed Yuriko’s bottom lip with his thumb. The touch was brief, yet it sent an electric pulse through her body.

“I am not interested in wasting my time trying to draw or paint something. But this requires a different kind of skill set. One that suits me well.” Ruki let his hand slide along the column of Yuriko’s neck before laying it on her shoulder. “Since you insisted you wanted to participate in an art class, this seemed the best possible option.”

And off they went. Ruki captured Yuriko’s hand with his cold one and led her away from their classmates who were just about to start to look for the piece they wanted to analyze. Yuriko gazed around in the dim lighting of the museum. Only the paintings had lights above them but everything else was covered by shadows. 

It would be a hard task to pick up one painting only. Everything in the exhibition was extraordinary like it had been a collection of lost pieces of art. Yuriko had never seen them before, not even in books. They all had an aura of mystery around them – she could almost smell it – and they seemed to belong to different eras of human history around the world.

“Umh… Ruki?” Yuriko peeked at the Vampire as they proceeded further into the exhibition halls.

Ruki squeezed Yuriko’s hand as if telling her that he was by her side. “What is it?”

“The teacher… She said that this exhibition is sponsored by Sakamaki Tougo…” Yuriko took a breath. That was a family name she didn’t like to think about. Yet, the curiosity tingled through her. It was impossible to ignore. “I know he is a politician, a famous one. I never thought about it before… but… is he related to the Sakamaki family?”

It was an odd thing to ask for sure. Of course, it could be that the name was simply the same without any connections. More than that. It was likely. Yuriko had met the head of the Sakamaki family, the Vampire king Karlheinz himself. The Sakamakis were pureblood Vampires, so surely a politician had nothing to do with them…

“He is Karlheinz-sama.” Ruki’s voice was low as it caressed Yuriko’s ear. “I would not share that information just with anyone, but you should know. This is his exhibition. He has an eye for human art.”

“Oh… wow…” That was something Yuriko had never imagined about the king. The man with long white hair and golden eyes radiated intimidation like a true demon would, for he was one, of course. It was enticing how he was so interested in humans, simple mortal beings that didn’t compare to supernatural creatures.

Yuriko was still in awe of the thought, looking at the paintings through them. What could have Karlheinz seen in the one with bright flowers? What about that woman who stared into the void? There was no way to know what had gone through the man’s mind as he had picked up each piece.

The couple kept walking until Ruki stopped in front of a painting. A night sky spread in all its glory behind a huge steamship with four huge pipes on it. Yuriko found it oddly familiar even though she was sure she hadn’t seen this picture before.

“Many pieces of art were lost that day…” Ruki approached the painting. “This one has been painted later, of course. It is not very old if you ask me.” He chuckled as if he had told a joke. “Somehow, I still find it intriguing.”

Yuriko stepped closer, gazing at the name tag next to the painting. She didn’t recognize the artist but the ship's name she had heard before. “Oh, oh! I know! I know! I have seen a foreign movie about this. It was made ages ago!”

Ruki scoffed, turning to look at the Kitsune. “Ages ago? I do not have much interest in movies, yet I know it was not too many years since the one you talked about came out. Only…” He stopped talking, perhaps counting how many years exactly. A peal of tiny laughter escaped him. “Forgive me, my angel. It is indeed true that the movie is older than you. Though, I have noticed that you are lured in by things that many would consider not very modern.”

“Oh, you think so, Ruki~?” Yuriko closed the distance between them, pressing her palm on Ruki’s chest before rising on her toes. “I do see old-fashioned things… and people beautiful and captivating.” She allowed a smile to settle on her lips. “Very much so…”

Without permission, Yuriko pursed her mouth against Ruki’s, sucking his bottom lip between hers. He groaned, snatching her in his arms and pressing one hand on the back of her head as his tongue snaked into her wet cavern. Yuriko hadn’t expected such an intense kiss that made the museum around them shatter in her eyes and air swoosh in her ears. Ruki’s smooch was so strong that it filled the room with magic that spirited everything away for a moment.

A cold breeze hit Yuriko’s legs and made her skirt whirl. She gasped into the kiss, hanging onto Ruki. “Oh my gosh!” Her words drowned between them.

“Fuck!” Ruki broke the kiss and pressed Yuriko on his chest. “What did just happen?”

Peeking from Ruki’s embrace, Yuriko realized that they weren’t in the museum anymore but in the sea where an icy wind wiped around them while waves hit the sides of a ship that sailed through the night. Lights from the inside danced on the deck, sparkling from the windows.

“Oh my gosh… what… is this?”

[manicplank]

The Color Pink (Part 12)

wow this has so many parts to it now

it's never gonna end

The Sleepover

As he waited for Hazel to show up, Theodore rushed to clean up around the house, especially the bedroom. He was in a panic. He cleaned up any clothes laying around. He hurried to change his sheets and blanket. He couldn't remember the last time he changed them... He was unsure what to do with the clean unfolded laundry. He didn't have time to fold it all and put it away, so he grabbed another hamper and shoved it all in. He darted his head around, looking for anything that might gross her out, but everything seemed fine. He texted her his address, and she texted back: I'm on my way!

He paced around as he waited for her. He was suddenly extremely nervous. What if she thinks I'm gross? What if she changes her mind about me? What if she thinks I'm too weird? What if... There was a knock on the door that interrupted his thoughts. He went over and opened the door. It was Hazel. She had a huge smile on her face. "Hi," she greeted.

"Hey," he replied, "come on in."

She walked in with her hands clasped together. Now that she was in his house, she was a bit timid. She had a small pink bag filled with clothes and small accessories. "I have to admit," she rubbed her arm, "now that I'm here, I am a bit nervous.

"Yeah, I get that. We can just take it easy."

"That'd be nice. I'm a little tired, honestly."

"We can go straight to bed if you want."

"You don't want to watch a movie or anything?"

"Oh, I have a TV in my room!"

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah! It has one of those built in CD players!"

"Oh, cool!" She reached into her bag. "Cause I brought a movie!" She pulled out a CD case. Princess Mononoke. "Have you ever heard of Studio Ghibli?"

"No, I haven't actually."

Hazel gasped. "What?! Their movies are so good! My Neighbor Totoro? Kiki's Delivery Service? Castle in the Sky?"

Theodore shrugged.

"Seriously?! Oh, my gosh, you'll love them!"

"Well, we can watch it out here or in the room."

"Mmmm... Let's go in the room! I've never had a TV in the bedroom! It sounds super comfy!"

"It is. I don't really watch it a lot. It's mostly for background noise while I sleep."

"Really?"

"Yeah. When I was a kid, my mom had a TV in her room. Whenever I had nightmares, I'd go into her room, and she'd put the TV on so I'd feel safe. It still helps me sleep sometimes."

"Aww! That's so cute!"

Theo shrugged and blushed. "Ehh, it's no big deal. Come on," he grabbed her hand, "my room is upstairs."

He held her hand as he led her upstairs, where there was a couple rooms and a bathroom. He took her into his room, it was nicely decorated to suit his personality. There were a few band posters, a few family portraits, some Polaroid pictures of him with some other people. There was also a broken skateboard hung up on the wall. The TV was on a wooden dresser which matched his bed frame. His bed was made nice and neatly. On it was one single plush animal. Hazel picked it up.

"What is this?" she asked.

"Oh, that's Mr. PuppyDog! He was my first Build-A-Bear."

"Aw! He's so cute! I have so many Build-A-Bears, I can't tell you all of their names."

"I have a few other plushes. They're in storage, somewhere. Probably still at my mom's house."

Hazel put the plush back down on the bed. "This whole room is filled with your personality."

Theo shrugged. "Whatever that means."

"It means that your room is a lot like what you're like."

"I'm still confused."

She waved her hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about it. It's not a bad thing." She handed him the CD. "Here."

"Oh, right."

He went over to the TV and started to fuss with it. As he put the CD in, she continued to examine his room. She went to sit down on the right side of the bed, but she noticed something on the nightstand.

"Um... Theo?"

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Is this your ashtray?"

Oh shit... He forgot to hide that. "Um... Yeah..."

"I didn't know you were a smoker."

"Sorry, I thought you knew. I thought everybody knew."

"No, I... I didn't."

"..." Theo didn't know what to say.

"I have to admit..." She looked at him. "I wasn't expecting that. I'm a little disappointed."

"I'm ashamed, honestly. It's not my proudest habit. I've tried to quit a few times, but it's rough."

"I've heard about that. My dad used to be a smoker. He quit, but it took a while. He got really bad withdrawals."

"Yeah, so did I when I tried to quit. I was really moody and got sick a few times..."

She shrugged. "Would you be willing to try quitting again?"

"I could try."

"Please? For me?" She made a cute face.

He chuckled and rubbed her on the head. "Sure. For you."

"Good."

"I'll get rid of this." He took the ashtray and moved it into the other room. He came back in and grabbed the remote from the dresser.

"Before we start the movie, we should get in our PJ's!"

"Oh, uh... I usually just sleep in a t-shirt and underwear, but I can put on some shorts or something."

"That's fine! I mean, you're already in a hoodie and sweatpants."

"Yeah, I don't know why you got dressed to come to a sleepover."

"Shush! Be nice to me!"

He laughed. "You want me to leave the room real quick, give you some privacy?"

"If you don't mind."

Noise stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. Hazel changed from her day clothes to a pair of cute pajamas. They were pink satin cami top and shorts with black polka dots scattered around. The ends were covered with black lace. She opened the door and poked her head out.

"I'm all good, now," she said cheerfully.

Theodore opened the door and entered the room again. His eyes grew wide and he blushed.

"What?" She tilted her head in confusion.

"Sorry," he chuckled nervously. "You look really pretty."

She went over and held his face with her hands. His eyes grew even wider and his face was red. She giggled and rubbed her thumbs across his cheeks. She tilted her head and kissed him softly. "Relax. It's okay."

"Sorry, sorry. I'm still working on that."

"I know you are. Now, come on," she went back over to the right side of the bed and sat down. "Let's watch the movie! It's such a good one!"

He walked over and crawled onto the left side of the bed. He propped up some pillows to make it comfortable to lean back. He handed her the remote since she was the one who brought the movie.

"Oh, wait," Theo blurted.

"What is it?"

"Um... There's another thing that you might not be too happy with."

Hazel gave him a look.

"It's not like the smoking, but... Can you reach into the drawer on my nightstand?"

"Why?"

"I need to take my meds before I forget. I usually keep them in there."

"Oh! Yeah, sure!" She reached into the drawer and grabbed an orange pill bottle. She handed it to him.

"There should be another one in there."

She looked again and found another. She handed that one to him, too. "What are those?"

"They're my meds."

"Yeah, I know, but what are they?"

"Oh! Well, one of them is an antidepressant and the other is for my bipolar."

"Theo... You have depression?"

"... You don't?"

"No."

"Sorry, I usually just assume everybody does until they tell me else wise."

"And bipolar?"

"Well, I mean, yeah."

"I had no idea."

"Ask anybody who works for me, they'll tell you all about it." He laughed. "I have to grab some water from the kitchen. You wanna come with? We can grab some snacks or something for the movie."

"Yeah! I could use a water, too."

"Okay, come on!"

The two went downstairs and into the kitchen. Theo grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge while Hazel opened the pantry. "Holy shit," she exclaimed. In the pantry was candy and snacks galore. There was every kind of chips and candy imaginable. Hazel almost felt overwhelmed by the amount of selection.

"Theodore," she said, "do you even have real food?"

"Um... kind of? I eat out a lot."

"There's so much..."

"Yep! Pick whatever you want!"

"Oh, geez, I don't know."

Theodore already knew what he wanted. He grabbed a pack of gummy bears and a pack of classic Pocky.

"Oh, I love Pocky! Do you-"

"Yes, I have the strawberry flavor."

Hazel squealed as he handed her a box of strawberry Pocky. Strawberry anything was her favorite flavor. Theo gave her a water bottle and grabbed her hand as he led her back upstairs. They went back into the bedroom and got in their previous spots on the bed. Hazel sat up with her legs criss crossed, Theo sat against the headboard. Hazel picked up the remote. Theo grabbed one of the pill bottles and took the medicine.

"I'll take the other one later," he said. "It makes me really tired. I want to stay awake for the movie."

"You're going to love it!"

As the movie started, Hazel scooted over and rested her head on Theo's shoulder. Noise suddenly grew anxious. He put his hands together and twiddled his thumbs. He tried to focus on the film, but his heart was racing. Hazel leaned into him more and wrapped her arm around his waist and rubbed his chest with her free hand. "Relax," she spoke softly. "I'm not going to hurt you." She kissed his neck a couple times then his cheek. He still stared wide-eyed at the TV, hardly focusing on the movie. "Let me help you out," Hazel grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her. Theo took a deep breath and tried to calm down. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.

Halfway through the movie, Hazel felt Theo's head leaned onto hers. At first she thought it was cute. "Finally relaxed, huh," she teased, but he didn't respond. "Theo?" Then she realized he was asleep. A huge smile grew onto her face. She did her best not to giggle. She pat his chest, but he didn't respond, so she pat his face. "Theo."

"Hmm..."

"Theo!"

"Wha-?! Huh?"

"You fell asleep." She chuckled.

"Ah, shit, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. You had a long day. Do you just want to go to bed?"

"I guess so." He yawned. "I'm definitely tired."

"Okay, let's go to bed, then." She took the remote and turned off the movie and the TV.

She got up and reached into her bag. She pulled out a toothbrush and tooth paste.

"If you want to use the bathroom first," Theo spoke, "I'll grab you some pillows and an extra blanket. I'm sort of... a blanket hog."

She giggled at him. "Okay."

Hazel went into the bathroom and began brushing her teeth. There were little paper cups stacked next to the faucet. She filled one up and used it to rinse out her mouth. She forgot to grab her mouthwash, so she went back into the room to get it from her bag. As she walked back in, she saw Theo putting some fresh pillows and a folded up blanket on the bed. There was also a fleece pink blanket balled up on his side of the bed.

"Oh, hey," he looked at her. "Done already?"

"Almost. I forgot to get my mouthwash. I have a little mini one!" She grabbed it out of her bag and headed back to the bathroom. She filled the cap and swished it around her mouth for a minute before spitting it out into the sink. She went back into the room again. "Okay, your turn!"

Noise let out a small laugh and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth as well. Hazel fluffed up the pillows and crawled onto the bed. She got under the blanket that was on the bed instead of the one he gave to her. She felt the pink blanket that was on his side. It was incredibly soft. Theodore rinsed his mouth with water then swished a cap full of mouthwash and spit it out. He came back into the room to see Hazel nice and comfortable.

"I appreciate you bringing me an extra blanket," she smiled at him, "but I want to share a blanket with you."

"I don't mind. I only gave you the extra just in case I hog the blanket in the middle of the night." He walked up to the bed and took off his hoodie. He was wearing a yellow NTV t-shirt underneath.

"Self advertising, huh," she chuckled.

"Not really. Whenever we release merch, they give me a sample of some sort. I have a million of NTV t-shirts and hoodies." He went over to the dresser and opened one of the drawers. "I do want to find some shorts, though."

"You um... You don't have to."

"Nah, I get really warm at night. I don't want to sleep in sweatpants."

"You can sleep in your underwear if you're comfortable with it."

"I'm pretty sure I have some gym shorts around he-"

"..."

"..." Theodore was blushing. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"I'll be fine." She smiled. "We'll be under the blanket, anyways."

"I think I'd be more comfortable in some shorts."

"Whatever works for you."

He quickly slipped into some soft grey shorts as he still faced the dresser. He got into bed, but Hazel stopped him before he laid down.

"Don't forget to take your other pill!"

"Shit, right! Thanks for reminding me." He chuckled. "I totally would've forgot." He opened the other bottle and swallowed the pill with a mouthful of water.

"By the way, I wanted to ask you something."

"What's up?"

What's with the pink blanket? Was that one for me?"

"Oh, no that's um... That's... Well, that's my blankie. I, uh... I can't really sleep without it."

"Aww, Theo!"

"Shush!"

"No, no, it's cute!"

"Shuuush!" He pouted and blushed.

"Don't be embarrassed! It's fine! I'm not judging you."

"Alright, alright."

"One more question."

"Hm?"

"Can we cuddle? I wanna spoon." She smiled cutely.

Theo blushed even harder. "Um... Yeah. Yeah, sure."

"I call little spoon!" She plopped on to her right side and giggled.

(Tiniest suggestive warning. Nothing bad happens but there is a small mention.)

Theo nervously clicked the lamp off and snuggled up to her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned against her with his head on her neck. She put her arm on top of the one that wrapped around her and intertwined their fingers. Theo gulped and took a deep breath. Even though they were only cuddling, he found himself growing incredibly flustered... including down below. He moved his hips back and away from her. She noticed him move and picked her head up.

"Where ya goin'?"

"I, uh..." he spoke shakily.

"Get back here!" She threw her hips back at him, but jolted forward once she felt him. "Oh!"

"Sorry, I'm so sorry, I-"

She giggled. "Theo, relax. I take it as a compliment."

"Oh, my gosh, I just-"

"Theo! Calm down! Would it help if we switched and I was big spoon?"

"That... Yeah, that'd be nice."

"Come on," she flipped over and nudged him.

He rolled over, but he was still so embarrassed. He took a deep breath. Hazel snuggled up to him and played with his hair. He focused on his breathing as she gently scratched his scalp. With her other hand, she intertwined their fingers and held hands. Theodore felt his muscles relax. Before he knew it, he was zonked out. Hazel thought it was cute that he got so flustered. He was so cocky and brave when they first met, but now he was a nervous wreck. She knew it was going to take a while for him to settle, but in the meantime, she was going to help push him through it.

Eventually, Hazel had also fallen asleep and ended up rolling onto her back. She was sleeping soundly until she woke up freezing cold. Just as she was warned, The Noise was wrapped head to toe in the blanket. He was curled up in fetal position with the blanket over his ears. His pink "blankie" was even over his head. No wonder he gets so warm at night, she thought. She grabbed the extra blanket he had given her, unfolded it, and covered herself up. She let out a small groan as she snuggled up with the blanket.

Hazel woke up again around her usual time, around 5 in the morning. To her, that was "sleeping in". She looked over at Noise, who was still sleeping with his blankie over his head. She debated on waking him up, but she wasn't too keen on disturbing him. With the way the paparazzi treated him the day before, she thought he deserved to rest. She slowly crawled out of bed so she could brush her teeth, but she accidentally woke him up doing so. His eyes squinted as he moved the blanket off his head.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Mmmph..." He groaned. "It's okay..." He tiredly slurred his words.

"I was going to let you sleep. You seemed like you needed it."

He sat up and took a deep breath. "Yeah... I'll be fine. I can always take a nap later." He yawned and stretched. He let out a small chuckled once he saw that she used the other blanket. "I warned you that I'm a blanket hog."

She giggled. "You should've seen yourself. You were wrapped up like a burrito."

"Yeah, I've always slept like that."

"That's probably why you get so hot at night."

"I can't sleep any other way."

She booped him on the nose. "You wanna go out and get some food or somethin'?"

"Yeah, sure," he yawned again. "I could eat. I'm gonna brush my teeth, though."

"I was gonna-"

"You can go first. I can lay down a few more minutes." He smiled as he slid back down.

She chuckled softly as she headed over to the bathroom with her toothbrush, toothpaste, and this time, she remembered her mouthwash.

[btr-rewatch]

Big Time Rush Season 1, Episode 9: “Big Time Demos”

After skipping reviews of the previous two episodes (though I did have fun making gifs of them), I'm back to do a post on this episode that I honestly don't remember much of aside from it including a monkey that makes fart noises??

Highlights: the guys share some weird things they've learned since coming to L.A., Mercedes Griffin is a nightmare girlfriend, and the band is at risk of falling apart for the third (??) time so far this season.

We begin with the boys hanging by the pool and talking about how they've been in L.A. for three months now. Logan suggests they go into a flashback montage, and we get a series of silly clips that showcase all the ridiculous shenanigans they've been involved in. We see them racing tricycles by the pool, pushing Carlos through the lobby in a bathtub (this is an homage to The Monkees, btw! The opening sequence to their show has them pushing Peter through the streets in a bathtub), and fighting off a bear. Very exciting stuff.

Kelly comes by with plane tickets because apparently, if Big Time Rush's demo doesn't get picked, they all have to go home. The boys are shocked, which means they were either never told this information or were told but not one of them was paying attention any of the times it was mentioned. Which sounds believable to me, tbh.

After learning about some of the competition they're up against, Logan says they're toast. Kendall disagrees and tries to lead them into a pep talk, which then results in one of my favorite exchanges of the entire series.

Love James's confidence

What on EARTH led Logan to this conclusion?

I love Carlos. So much. He must be protected from all the bad in the world. Also, keep in mind that Kendall asked what they had learned since being in L.A. This means that something happened in the last three months that made Carlos believe toys come alive when you leave the house. I desperately want to know what series of events led to this.

Obviously, these are not the responses Kendall was looking for, but they sure did try, didn't they? Kendall clearly woke up in charge of the brain cell that morning.

A few moments after some words of encouragement, Mercedes Griffin walks into Gustavo's office to pick up the demo cd. And it's at this exact moment that I realize I always thought Griffin was his first name. Looked it up, and it turns out his first name is Arthur, which I might have known deep in the back of my brain. Anyway! Mercedes is spoiled, manipulative, and used to getting every little thing her heart desires. She thinks the guys are cute, and when Carlos assumes that she's the one in charge of picking the winning demos, she doesn't correct him.

Quickly realizing that she can use this to her advantage, she promptly picks Kendall as her new boyfriend and drags him from the room while he pleads for help like a victim in a horror movie being captured by a terrifying monster.

Poor guy.

We go to the Palm Woods then, where Mrs. Knight is preparing for the possibility that they'll have to return home. Katie doesn't want to leave, but they can't afford to stay in the apartment. Bitters shows up (intent on taking apartment 2J for his own) and says that the only way Mrs. Knight could afford to renew is if she had a job working at the Palm Woods. Unfortunately, there are no jobs available.

...Until 2 seconds later, that is.

And just like that, there's an assistant manager position open.

Meanwhile, Kendall is having the worst day of his life being Mercedes's boyfriend. The rest of the guys stop by to encourage Kendall to stick with the act so Mercedes will pick their demo. Well, Logan and Carlos encourage him. James is too busy being self-absorbed and insulting Kendall's looks.

Mercedes and Kendall's poolside date doesn't go too well. Kendall is pretty much disgusted at the whole thing and can't bring himself to fawn over Mercedes in the way she expects. The boy has STANDARDS and isn't about to drop them for some stuck-up girl, even if it means the band is at risk.

Mad respect for my boy Kendall Knight.

Mercedes breaks up with Kendall and makes Carlos her new boyfriend. We'll see how that goes.

Returning to the Mrs. Knight storyline, Katie forges a fake resume and ends up getting her mom the job as assistant manager. Her first assignment is to unclog a toilet. Gonna be honest, the Mama Knight and Katie plot isn't all that interesting.

After being pelted with cookies during his date with Mercedes, Carlos runs to hide in the bathroom, where we get another one of my favorite moments.

Absurdity. Why is Kelly holding a loofah?? Why is Logan holding a toothbrush??

"Are you talking behind my back with shower people?!" Mercedes asks. Maybe I have a simple sense of humor, but this line is SO FUNNY to me.

Mercedes breaks up with Carlos and picks an absolutely terrified Logan to be her next victim boyfriend. She announces she's going to dye Logan's hair green to match her purse, and it's at this point that Kendall puts his foot down. He storms out into the living room and tells Mercedes: "He's dumping you. Because you're spoiled, pushy, mean, and he, and me, and we would all rather go back to Minnesota than spend one more second pretending to be your boyfriend."

I love Kendall. And I especially love that it's this moment that makes him give Mercedes a piece of his mind. He endured being her boyfriend, watched Carlos go through the experience, but he draws the line at Logan. And while Kendall is protective of all his friends, I think he's noticeably more so of Logan because Logan NEEDS that kind of protection. He'll step back at certain times to let Carlos and James fend for themselves, but Logan needs his guidance. It's sweet.

Mercedes says that she's definitely not picking BTR now and leaves the apartment. Everyone is less than thrilled with Kendall.

Later on, the guys all sit around sadly packing their bags. Gustavo manages to tell them that he's proud of them without looking like the words cause him physical pain! So sweet.

Mercedes returns to apologize, but she also comes bearing the news that she isn't actually the one in charge of picking the demos. A chimpanzee is. Gustavo and the boys kidnap Lolo in an attempt to train him to pick BTR. We don't get to see the plan in action, just the aftermath, which is this...

Unfortunately, their attempt to Pavlov Lolo into liking their music ends with the chimp hurling bananas at them, then running from the studio. Griffin later comes to the studio with Lolo in tow, telling them that he found him hitchhiking on the freeway.

Mercedes, the boys, and Kelly offer up their explanations for why they did what they did, and Griffin replies with, "Those were a lot of sentences, containing words, containing letters."

Griffin is honestly a top-tier character. Deranged man.

When asked what he thinks of the band, Lolo makes a fart noise. Mercedes then jumps in to tell her father that the chimp is wrong, and he should pick BTR's demo. Griffin is quickly swayed and declares Big Time Rush the winner. We then go to the boys singing "Halfway There" (which is one of my favorites. it slaps to this day)

Once back at the Palm Woods, Kelly renews their lease, Mrs. Knight quits her assistant manager job, and we get this sweet exchange.

Yay, the guys get to stay!! They're home!! FOUND FAMILYYYYY!!!!

This was never one of my favorite episodes, but I enjoyed revisiting it. It has some very funny lines and scenes, and it's an important one because the series really feel "solidified" after this episode. Yeah, the band will still have moments where it's at risk, but the guys are putting their roots down in this one. L.A. is home now. Logan, James, and Carlos are seemingly content to leave behind their families and just live in California and be raised by Mrs. Knight from here on out. Interesting.

Catch ya next time.

[dollarbin]

Dollar Bin #28:

Mike Heron's Smiling Men with Bad Reputations

In 2003 I spent a day with two way-out-of-my-league hipsters. I was not cool: a social worker married with a 1 year old; I had no thoughtful facial hair or ironic t-shirts; they were the epitome of cool: screenwriters and poets by day and ladies men by night; it goes without saying that both had very thoughtful facial hair and very ironic t-shirts. Together we visited one of San Francisco's hippest independent music stores.

Once in the door, we split up. My peers thumbed and nodded their way through the Stereolab and Flaming Lips sections while making confident small talk with the shop's owner about how Jeff Tweedy had plagiarized him on basically all of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (the store had a big, loud, handwritten editorial on this subject on prominent display: according to the shop, they'd turned Tweedy on to the source for all the background noise on the record - you know, the lady repeating the call sign title and the swirling jet streams of periodic chaos - and therefore they deserved co-songwriting credits for everything; but they were way too cool to consider legal action, and, what's more, they considered the music Tweedy and Co had made detracted from and trivialized the original, CD collection of white noise, which they still exclusively sold for only 28 bucks) while I hit the shop's very small and disregarded Dollar Bin on the floor in a corner.

2003 was, as you know, still the height of the CD era. Only cheapskates like me still bought records, let alone still owned a record player. I had that Dollar Bin all to myself.

Similarly, the Incredible String Band was not enjoying any kind of renaissance at that point. (They've never really had one. I'm starting it right now.) In 03 people were still very much reeling from 9/11, wrestling with the Bush presidency and downloading Nabster. Everyone was listening to Outkast and Radiohead, not hippies who sang about minotaurs.

And so when I passed a Dollar Bin copy of Mike Heron's Smiling Men with Bad Reputations across that august shop's counter for purchase everything got real awkward real fast. The owner rang me up with disdain and great reluctance, like he was worried that Tweedy might show up at that very moment, his full, written apology in hand, and then see my transaction going down and change his mind. My hipster friends took deep breaths and suggested I get a bag with which to carry the record back to their squat; after all, flashing Mike Heron on vinyl was gonna cut our cool factor in front of the SF ladies down into the negatives.

Happily, the only lady I've wanted to impress since 1992 is my wife (only she can tell by the way I use my walk I'm a ladies man, no time to talk). And happily, I have no pride. So I declined the shop's bag and told everyone present that Mike Heron's first solo record rocked - think VU's third record, I told them, if Cale had fired Reed and replaced him with Brian Wilson and everyone was way into Scientology. The embarrassed sighs that greeted this speech were collective; had I asked for a copy of their white noise album the owner dude would have claimed they were sold out.

Listen: I am never shy about making a fool out of myself when it comes to Mike Heron. I once sat at a bar for an hour with the great Meg Baird before one of her Heron Oblivion shows. We were the only people there; I was so excited for their show that I showed up ridiculously early (again, I'm a no pride person).

Meg and I talked about her music for a bit, then I name dropped my famous brother, who she totally knew, because, you know, he's famous. Once discussion of his fame petered out, and after she'd politely asked me this and that about my own life, I got down to the most important topic of that or just about any other evening: Mike Heron.

Me: So, Meg, I'm guessing your band's name, Heron Oblivion, is a tribute to the great Mike Heron, yes?

Meg, who was fingering her Led Zeppelin necklace and thinking big deal rock and roll thoughts: Uh, Who's Mike Heron?

Me: You know Meg, from The Incredible String Band! Mike and Robin Williamson were Paul McCartney's favorite musicians in 1968. Paul's a smart guy, some of the time. Jimmy Page played on Mike's first solo record!

Meg: Oh yeah, right, Mike Heron. No, we definitely did not name our band after anyone in the Incredible String Band. We were thinking about the bird actually. You know, herons.

Me: There's a bird named after Mike Heron?

Okay, so I admit it: I didn't say that the last line. But I wish I had! And the rest of my story is true. Finally, who knows, maybe herons really are named after Mike, pictured flush left, who wrote about so masterfully about amoebas living the timeless life.

What song can you name that's more unique, bizarre and wonderful? That's right, none. Here's what I think: if indeed there are not already birds named after Mike Heron, then I think we should find some new ones and name them Mike Heron.

Back at the bar, I did go on to suggest, very earnestly, that Meg and her bandmates consider covering Feast of Stephen, the final track on the A side of Smiling Men with Bad Reputations. The track is totally ready for Heron Oblivion's twin guitar attack under Baird's howling vocals. Baird very nicely decided that she needed to get a life and stop talking to me at that point. I don't blame her, but I stand by my suggestion. Feast of Stephen is an under the radar platter of sonic sweetmeats ready for everyone's consumption. Eat it now.

Let's get into a little background on my man Mike and the story behind this record from 71.  ISB had made 6 or 7 (or maybe 8?!) records in the previous 5 years, records that are alternatively silly and deeply spiritual.  Heron typically wrote the lighter and more joyful tracks, except when he didn't.  Williamson wrote droning, brooding epics that turned delightful corners, except when he didn't.  The two men sounded as good together as they look on the cover of The Big Huge: clear eyed young geniuses sharing a double bill, like a behind the looking glass version of Lennon and McCartney with all their angst and megalomania swapped out for earnest, unbridled joy, plus kazoo solos. 

The boys played every instrument imaginable and included their lady friends, Rose and Licorice, who sang and played bass like they were in The Shaggs.  Song topics ranged from the joy one can find in a box of paints or new puppies to the meaning of life.  Imagine Robyn Hitchcock and Rafi dropping LSD and then sharing a jet ski. Why isn't everyone into the Incredible String Band?

But somewhere right before Heron slipped away on his own to make Smiling Men with Bad Reputations, Scientology slipped its slimy, parasitic hooks into the duo. It would quickly suck them dry.  Under evil uncle L. Ron's sway, Williamson's songs got longer and wilder, almost unlistenable.  Heron, his head at least momentarily more firmly in place, decided it was time to rock. And so he called his famous friends and admirers. They all came. And I mean all of them: sessions for Smiling Men with Bad Reputations featured most of The Who, Elton John, most of the Fairport/Fotheringay crew, and Stephen Winwood. Oh yeah, and Jimmy Page.  What's more, John Cale arranged much of the record, filling in all the cracks with his signature swelling grace; the ubiquitous Joe Boyd produced. 

Heron may not be on any hipster's radar this century but he was, for a moment, the leading hipster in England in 71. Everyone wanted to spin in his wacky orbit. I imagine Lennon and McCartney showed up hoping to contribute but were simply not needed. (Stephen Stills, who, dedicated readers of the Dollar Bin will remember, was living in Ringo Starr's mansion at that point, surely heard that Heron had a song in development entitled Feast of Stephen and assumed the song was dedicated to his mastery; when he showed up to grace the sessions with his presence I trust Richard Thompson karate chopped him in onto his keister.)

Happily, Heron didn't simply bask joyfully in his famous friends attention.  He brought his best work to the table.  The album opens with Call Me Diamond, a joyful, flinging horn ride; it's weird the B52's never covered it. 

Flowers of the Forest follows, featuring Richard Thompson's unmistakable gurgling guitar leads; the song is very nearly perfect.  All that's missing is Cale's polish; he appears on much, but not all, of the record.  Why, oh why, didn't Joe Boyd insist that Cale get his hands on every single song?  Even so, I encourage you to listen to Heron's passionate track alongside another masterpiece Cale did in fact arrange that same year, Nick Drake's Northern Sky.  What are better love songs than these?  

All of Side 1 is packed with equally good ideas, the tone jumping from wild to earnest to gentle then epic.  Unfortunately, much of the flip side is dedicated to Warm Heart Pastry, Heron's paean to the kind of meat that is placed inside dough. Mike fronts The Who on the track which sounds awesome on paper; but the results don't fully justify its 6 minute run time.

Still, let's cut Mike a break. Smiling Men has got everything, even has a goofy, incomprehensible cover.  (What the hell is the story being told on the gatefold, anyway?  Heron joyfully presents a pineapple to a chaotic mod of Halloween Saudi sheikhs; there's enough aluminum foil on hand to cover a whale sized burrito.  I can't understand any of what is going, but I sure wish someone had invited me to the party.)

So, why isn't this record famous? Why didn't Heron sell enough copies to instantly become chief captain of Scientology's battleship and crash all those John Travolta-look-a-like aliens that are secretly controlling our thoughts into the sun? As near as I can tell - and I'd love to hear from someone who knows better - Heron escaped the cult in the early 80's, but he hasn't made music of note in 50 years. What happened?

I don't know, but Mike is still alive and well. Rick Rubin, Heron Oblivion or Jeff Tweedy should get their act together and lure Heron back in the studio with them for a final run of genius. I have no doubt that the music they could create together would finally bring Heron the recognition he deserves.

And hey, Rick/Jeff/Meg: when you settle into the studio to record it all, let Mike know that I will graciously keep quiet about how the entire project is essentially plagiarism of The Dollar Bin (so long as I'm granted co-songwriting credits, of course). 

[cjsmalley]

A Royal Birthday:

Damian’s first birthday knowing his biological father was an extravagant affair; the Waynes were invited as Royal Guests and were given a front row seat to what a royal birthday was like.

There was live music, snacks, including a multi-tier cake decorated with various paintings, a ghostly circus (that promptly welcomed Dick in), a ghostly petting zoo, and many other attractions.

The entire Phantom family, including those adopted because their family member was sold, was in attendance. It was a daunting number of people.

The Waynes were quickly absorbed into the massive family; Tim and Barbara talked tech and inventions with Tucker and the elder Fenton couple, Jason hit it off with the so-called Marauders, Dick also fell in with the Marauders but also chatted with Buffy Summers and her group, Cass found a kindred spirit with Buffy as well, Stephanie hung with Adrien and his girlfriend, and Duke found allies in sanity in Jazz Fenton, Lily Potter, and Alice Longbottom.

Alfred was speaking quietly with Clockwork.

Bruce waded his way through the organized chaos, grinning at his children, to Danny and Sam, who were taking a quiet moment with their youngest, still just a baby, Anakin.

“Enjoying the party, Bruce?” Sam asked with a grin.

“Quite a bash,” he agreed, taking a seat on a bench.

“We tend to go all out with birthdays and gotcha days,” Danny admitted, cuddling Anakin, “especially for those who were actually Sold to us.”

“I see. And the family?”

“All are always invited,” Sam assured, “we have a loose definition of family. Like you. Because you’re related to Damian and good for him, you’re family too. You, your kids, anyone you consider family.”

“Huh.”

“Oh, look, Ember’s taking the stage,” Danny pointed out mildly.

Ember was a ghostly young woman with fire for hair.

“She wanted to be a singer in life,” Sam explained, “but died in a housefire as a teen.”

Ember began singing, her sound almost rock but mostly a punky-pop.

“She used to hypnotize teens with her music,” Danny added, “caused an incident in Amity back when I was just starting out as Phantom. Now I let her be my bard if she promises not to try that again.”

“Her Obsession is music?” Bruce asked, mind working.

“With recognition for her musical talents,” Danny corrected, “or just recognition in general. Naming her the Royal Bard helps with her Obsession. Damian loves her. All the kids do. When we first got Damian, she made a CD of lullabies for us to use. Which was lucky because we ran out of the lullabies we knew so fast.”

“Do you hire all your former enemies?” Bruce questioned.

“Um,” Sam thought, “well, Skulker’s our bounty hunter now, him and Wulf. Ember’s our bard. Technus works cybersecurity with Tucker. Desiree we keep on a short leash, she’s the genie ghost, but she’s allowed reasonable wishes as long as she doesn’t twist them too badly. Everyone else’s either behaving or in Walker’s prison for crimes against humans or the Crown.”

Damian joined them, smiling wide.

In his arms, a ghost puppy was snuggled.

“And Cujo’s the family dog,” Danny finished, “Dami, enjoying the day?”

“Of course, Father,” the boy assured and Bruce noted an electric pink lion painted on his left cheek.

It was smiling too.

Then it winked at Bruce.

Bruce let it go. He knew damn well the Phantoms would never intentionally endanger a kid, let alone one of theirs. So it was likely just some safe little charm or enchantment.

“Who did the lion, Dami,” Sam asked, “I might get one too.”

“Uncle Sirius and Uncle James have started face-painting,” Damian replied, “they are quite good at it.”

“Huh,” she passed the diaper bag off to Danny, “let’s go see what they can do.”

Damian and Cujo led her away into the crowd.

“Little spells like that really don’t work on me,” Danny explained.

“Ah.”

Wished Away 4

Do The Research (or, How to Sell Your Sister's Soul):

The Ghost King paused, blinking, “You’re not actually trying to sell her soul?”

“No!” Buffy shouted, “I want to sell my soul for her!”

The King blinked some more, “But the ritual sells Dawn’s soul, not yours.”

He stopped floating and poked at the ritual circle, pointing out, “You used the right runes to sell her soul, not yours.”

“I wanna sell my soul,” Buffy assured, almost desperately.

“Okay, time out,” the King made the motions needed, “why are you trying to sell me souls? What for?”

And so Buffy explained and the King listened attentively, asking questions as needed and obviously already planning an offense.

The King, Danny, clapped his hands, “Okay, so here’s how we’ll play this. I’ll accept Dawn Summers’ soul—ah, ah, ah, hear me out, Buffy—like I said, I’ll take Dawn back with me to my dimension while we all work together on this Glory situation. After the dust settles, I’ll send her back. I don’t actually want her soul. So I’ll technically own her soul but we’ll do…shared custody? If that’s okay with you?”

He thought some more, “I’ll also pay her bills; like child support.”

The Scoobies boggled.

“That’s it?” Xander finally asked, “you wanna…adopt Dawnie?”

“Yes? That’s how we treat any kids I get sold. Adopted. Ours. Dawn would be my fourth child, second daughter…although I would probably just act as her uncle in this case. Her care and keeping would still fall to me.”

“Buffy,” Anya spoke up, “take the deal. I don’t think he’s lying.”

“But—”

“Slayer,” murmured Spike, “he isn’t lying. Bloke’s bein’ honest. Take the deal, protect the Nibblet.”

“What do we tell everyone while I’m gone?” Dawn asked.

“That you went to yer wanker of a da,” Spike answered quickly, “he took ya away from Sunnyhell, finally answered his phone after yer Mum died.”

“We’ll pack some things, make it look good,” Willow added, “we’ll pack a lot of your things, like you really are moving out.”

“Everyone will be upset you’re gone,” Tara agreed softly, “so it’ll be an easy charade.”

“I do want copies of her medical records,” Danny spoke up mildly, before asking, “So, Buffy Summers, do we have a Deal?”

“Dawn?”

“If he can help with Glory—”

“If I can’t, I can find someone who can.”

“Then I’ll go with him.”

Buffy nodded, squared her shoulders and said, “Then we have a Deal.”

Danny nodded, “Well, then Dawn Summers, welcome to the family.”

Within the day things were packed and the needed files were gathered.

The Scoobies met Dawn’s new family, or, well, part of it.

Who quickly absorbed the entirety of the Scoobies into the family, very few questions asked and most of them about allergies and favorites.

Even Spike was accepted, though the King’s parents had questions for him about his biology.

Eventually, though, it was time to say goodbye and Dawn was taken through a portal.

Danny and his eldest son—who refused to give any other name than ‘Chat Noir’, or, in English, the Black Cat—stayed behind as the atmosphere shifted into something decidedly more…tactical.

[julemmaes]

Robyn

Rowaelin Month, Day Ten

A/N: I'd planned on posting them in order, but you get what you get. Idk when the other prompts will come tbf. I hope soon. Anyway, I managed to write over 6k words today and I'm pretty fucking proud.

This is just fluff over fluff, so yep enjoy!!

Word count: 3,047

Rowan was unbelievably late as he sped through the streets of Orynth.

So late that the school had called not only him, but also the front desk of the place where he worked when he hadn't answered the call on his personal phone. Sorscha, his assistant, had entered his office with an embarrassed smile on her lips, as if she didn't want to tell him that he had forgotten for the umpteenth time to pick up his daughter from school.

Lorcan had joined him, for some strange reason, but Rowan had stopped bothering when it came to his best friend. He'd been trying to figure out how he reasoned for years and had come to the conclusion that there was no logical sense in the actions of the man sitting next to him, who was currently singing at the top of his lungs to one of the songs on the Frozen CD - which much to the chagrin of both of them, had gotten stuck in his car radio months before, forcing them into hours of torture.

He would never deny that the songs were all quite catchy, but after the sixteenth time Rowan had had to listen to Let It Go at maximum volume, his positive opinion of the film had begun to waver.

As they pulled into the school parking lot, Rowan noticed with deep regret that the only cars still there were those of the teachers and school staff.

They both got out of the car, Rowan walking quickly towards the entrance while Lorcan dragged behind him.

He greeted the caretakers sitting at the entrance, who returned a big smile. A smile that grew even wider when his large, imposing friend entered a few moments later. He stopped to talk to the old ladies and Rowan walked down the corridor he knew led to Robyn's classroom.

He could hear muffled voices from inside the teachers' room on the left and the one he knew belonged to Miss Galathynius coming from the right. He looked out over the classroom, spotting the two people sitting at a desk.

As soon as his daughter saw him, her eyes widened and a huge smile flashed across her face.

No words. No "hello, daddy!" or "I missed you!" from the little girl.

Her teacher turned as she leapt out of her chair and ran towards him, hugging his legs and looking up at him. Rowan smiled at her in turn, running a hand over her hair that was shot in every direction.

"Hello, little bird," he murmured to her. The child's smile widened even more if that was possible.

The woman a few feet away from them pulled herself upright, crossing her arms over her chest and offering a sincere smile to the child, who hid behind his thighs.

Rowan was about to tell her that Robyn was shy with everyone like this, ready to defend his daughter's behaviour as he was used to doing in front of every adult, but he was beaten to the punch.

"It's good to see you, Mr Whitethorn," she said, extending a hand. Rowan shook it without hesitation. "Actually, I just wanted to write you a letter regarding Robyn," she continued, never taking her eyes off the little girl. "Nothing serious," she hastened to reassure him when Rowan grimaced, "quite the contrary. Robyn is remarkably good. One of the best in the class, though I shouldn't offer that information so bluntly."

Miss Galathynius winked at him, but he couldn't process what he'd just been told.

"Sorry, could you-"

The little hands clamped around his trousers tightened a fraction more and Rowan looked down, trying to figure out what was bothering his daughter, but then something happened that he hadn't even dared to dream about in recent times.

"You're here!"

The little girl broke off and ran away from him in less than the blink of an eye.

Rowan turned just in time to see Lorcan grab Robyn in mid-air, spinning her around as he brought her to his chest and showered her with kisses. The loud, incessant laughter that erupted from her seemed too much coming from that fragile little body, but he never tired of hearing it.

"Why hello baby!" said Lorcan laughing in turn, starting to tickle her until she begun to rebel and he was forced to let her slide to the floor. Robyn was still laughing at the top of her lungs and nearly fell to the ground as she squealed left and right, letting herself be pushed around by the closest thing to an uncle she had ever had.

When Rowan turned back to the woman, she was wide-eyed and her lips slightly parted as she watched the massive man dressed completely in black and the menacing face turn into a completely different person the second he had seen Robyn.

He chuckled, "I know, it's not every day you get to see a little girl be so comfortable with a brute like that."

Lorcan, who was listening to everything, looked him straight in the eye and without stopping smiling and playing with the little girl, mouthed to him to fuck off.

"Well, yeah. You caught me a little off guard." she confessed, still shocked to hear how Robyn was having a full conversation with Lorcan. They couldn't hear anything of what she was actually saying, but even just the fact she was talking to someone seemed to have Aelin unsettled.

She returned her attention to Rowan and let out a breath that sounded more like a giggle, "I've never heard her laugh before."

He nodded, blushing a little at the teacher's surprised but relieved tone.

"I'm sure the dean warned you about the problem she has," he said in a low voice. He grimaced at her poor choice of words, "I mean, not problem, but the difficulty she finds in interacting with people she doesn't know."

Liar, he told himself. Robyn hadn't spoken to anyone but him and Lorcan since the day Lyria had died. It wasn't a difficulty, but a response to the trauma that prevented her from speaking to anyone who wasn't part of her immediate family.

"I know, I know. We've been looking for solutions together." she informed him. "I give her a white board every morning. Come on, I'll show you." she turned to the desk they were sitting at earlier and raised the magnetic board, on which a few words were scribbled on. "I'll write here what she might need. Yes. No. I need to go to the bathroom. I'm thirsty. I'm hungry." she read, listing the various options. Rowan gaped. "We've only just started going over the alphabet for a second time, so she can't really read or write yet, as I imagine you know, but the little drawings next to each sentence help her."

She continued talking, but he couldn't quite follow.

The woman in front of him - aside from being breathtakingly beautiful - had done as much as she could to help her child with communication.

"Mr. Whitethorn-"

"Rowan. Please, call me Rowan." he said, clearing his throat once he realized how hoarse it sounded to his ears. Lorcan walked up to them at that point, still holding Robyn in his arms and positioned himself next to him, letting their shoulders touch in a comforting way.

"Call me Aelin, then," she smiled at them both. Then she made a small grimace, turning to Rowan, "I wanted to ask if it bothered you, that I sought a solution like that. Maybe I put her in distress, embarrassed her. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted to solve this on my own. I really wanted to discuss it with you, with your husband too, to avoid misunderstandings. Maybe we could arrange a meeting."

He was about to tell her that she had given him the exact opposite of annoyance, that he had been more than pleased that she had helped Robyn this way, when her words finally registered.

Lorcan, beside him, had opened his mouth wide and his lips were slowly bending into a mischievous smile.

Rowan furrowed his brow, "I'm sorry, what?"

Aelin's smile seemed to falter. "A meeting? With you? To talk about how to handle the situation," then she shifted her gaze to Lorcan, "You're more than welcome to join as well. I didn't know Robyn had two dads, I apologise for assuming Robyn had a mum and dad. That was very rude of me-"

"I love this," Lorcan whispered, laughing in shock. He turned to Rowan with eyes that sparkled with amusement, "I would definitely be the top."

Rowan looked at him with an expression of complete shock on his face, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Robyn gasped, opening her eyes wide and bringing a hand to her mouth, pointing then to Rowan's.

"Yeah, sorry, love. I shouldn't have said the bad word." he apologised, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. He turned back to Miss Galathynius, "I'm sorry to have to disappoint you, but we're not married."

"No need to lie, sweetie. I'm sure Aelin," he gave her a knowing look, "doesn't mind at all about our relationship status."

Aelin nodded, "Well, yes. That doesn't change anything. Mr..." she turned to Lorcan, searching for a name.

"Salvaterre."

"Mr. Salvaterre can still attend. The fact that you are not yet married is no reason why you cannot both be present at the meeting. You don't have to worry, we are a very tolerant school and if anyone bothers you, you can come directly to me."

A sound of sheer glee escaped Lorcan.

Aelin continued, "I mean it. I was pleased to see both of you today. I was also pleased to see Robyn smiling so much." she concluded, looking the little one in the face.

Rowan took a deep breath, bracing himself, "No, I meant, we're not a couple. We're not gay. He's her uncle."

The woman's blonde eyebrows shot up and a second later she turned almost as red as the dress Robyn was wearing as Lorcan shook his head muttering something very much like 'you're no fun', which made Robyn giggle.

"Why did you even get off the car?" he asked him exasperated.

Lorcan shrugged, "Because I missed my little bean, you monster." he replied, clutching Robyn to his chest. The little girl clutched Lorcan's shirt in her chubby little hands and Rowan huffed, shaking his head.

Aelin brought her hands to her face, leaning against the desk behind her. She shook her head, her face still hidden, "Oh, god. I'm so sorry."

Lorcan let out a dry laugh, "Don't worry about it. It was fun while it lasted." then he turned to Rowan again, who was still trying to recover from the idea of being involved in a relationship with his friend, "You're really no fun."

"Yeah, no fun dad." repeated Robyn.

Silence fell over the class. Rowan looked at her with wide eyes and blinked once, twice. Robyn was staring at him with a sweet scowl that mimicked so much that of the man who was still holding her, but Rowan couldn't get over the fact that his daughter had spoken while Aelin was still beside them.

He was about to talk, noticing how Robyn had started squirming in Lorcan's arms, when there was a knock at the door.

They both turned, Aelin peering over Rowan's shoulder, and saw the figure of a petite girl with black hair and eyes standing in the doorway, watching them with her head slightly bent to the side. She had a tag on her t-shirt that was too colourful to belong to someone who didn't work in a school with children, so he guessed she was a teacher herself. Besides, Rowan felt like he'd seen her elsewhere. Probably every day when he picked Robyn up from school, he said to himself.

"I know you're not supposed to eavesdrop but I stopped by earlier and heard you were a couple of dads," she said by way of introduction. "I just wanted to reassure you that the school is an extremely safe place. I'm the one who did most of the interviews with the parents," that's where they had met then, "and one of the questions that is asked is just about the tolerance of the people who will be attending the school."

Aelin watched her, remaining silent the whole time and putting on an amused smile, nodded, "That's what I was telling them. How tolerant the school is. They make such a cute couple, don't you think, Elide?"

Rowan turned to her, arching an eyebrow, silently asking her what she was doing. The woman, as if she could truly understand what he was trying to convey to her, nodded her head towards Lorcan, who Rowan only then noticed was standing weirdly, his eyes fixed on the woman in the doorway.

He grinned, deciding to take his revenge right away. "Oh, yes. Thank you so much for the reassurance," Rowan began to play along as well. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lorcan turn towards him, dropping Robyn to the floor, who made a disapproving noise at being dumped so suddenly. "We are happy to know that this school is a safe place for our daughter. And for us."

Elide offered him a blinding smile, "Good. I'm happy to hear that you are pleased so far. And I am happy that Aelin is the one who is taking your daughter's class. She's the best one here."

Rowan didn't know her yet, but he knew the thing Elide had just said could only be true.

"Well," she said again, giving them an apologetic smile, "I really must go now, but if you need anything, you can find all my contact details on the website. Have a nice day!"

Aelin and Rowan said their goodbyes, thanking her. Lorcan took a while to recover, but when he realised he was staring into empty space he ran towards the door, almost stepping on little Robyn, who was moved by Aelin.

"We are very much not gay, miss!" he shouted into the hallway. Aelin, now beside him and with a hand on Robyn's shoulder, cackled. With Lorcan's infinite luck, someone walked by just then and gave him a stern look. "Oh, shut up ma'am. I'm an ally. The best ally."

Rowan shook his head as Lorcan launched himself in pursuit of the poor teacher and burst out laughing when he heard him shout, "I'm not homophobic! I'm willing to suck someone's cock if I have to prove it to you!"

Aelin opened her mouth wide before bursting out laughing in turn.

Robyn, seeing both adults so happy, giggled too and Rowan bent down to pick her up. The little girl laid her full head of white-light hair on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

She was tired and Rowan really needed to get her home to sleep.

He glanced at Aelin and reduced his lips to a thin line, "I'm sorry about the commotion, I'll try not to bring him into the building again. Even if it means tying him to the seat."

The soft laugh she gave made something tighten in his chest. He frowned.

Aelin didn't seem to notice the effect she had on him, "Don't worry, Elide is crazy about fools like him. If he says the right things, we might start seeing each other outside of school too."

Rowan nodded, now too caught up in the thought of having to take Robyn home to focus on anything else.

They agreed on when to hold the parent-teacher meeting and then he grabbed Robyn's backpack, walking towards the exit.

He was thoughtless as he reached into his pocket for his keys and balanced everything else - including the girl - on his other arm, but when Robyn's hand brushed his cheek, he looked down and his eyes met their twins. Green against green.

"What is it?"

The little girl's voice never stopped making him smile. Each time was like the first time she had said dada.

"I really like her."

Rowan frowned, "Who?"

"Miss Aelin." she whispered, almost as if she was afraid they might hear her.

He smiled at her, "Yeah? You like her?"

"She's nice to me."

Rowan had to put her down as he opened the door and let her get into the back seats by herself.

"I'm glad she's treating you well, love," he let her know, buckling her in.

He hoped she'd tell him more about her new teacher, but like any kid her age, the topic of conversation couldn't last for more than four lines apiece, "Where's Uncle Lorcan?"

Rowan snorted, "No idea, little bird."

Robyn nodded, "Elide is pretty too."

And as if those words had summoned him, Lorcan appeared beside the car, making them both scream. He entered the car in a heartbeat and turned to his daughter, who was still settling into the seat. "Do you know Miss Lochan?"

But before she could answer him, Rowan had entered the car in turn and smacked the back of his head, which made the Robyn giggle, "You're not using my daughter as your wingman. Now stop it and buckle up."

Lorcan gave him a gentle push, before doing as he was told and for once he was happy he'd convinced him to do something.

Or at least, Rowan thought he had convinced him.

"What if I left you a note to deliver to Miss Lochan, Rob? Would you be up for it?"

Rowan knew, even without looking at her, that she was nodding emphatically.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he murmured, "Could you stop calling my daughter Rob, please? You'll give her an existential crisis."

Lorcan clicked his tongue against his palate, "Rowan, I'm not giving her a damn thing. We live in this new world, okay? Your daughter could be called Simon and still be a beautiful princess. Grow up and educate yourself before you talk shit."

"Aaaah!" shouted Robyn, "Bad word!"

Rowan sighed and shook his head, but still he was smiling.

This was his life. Had been for the past two years.

And he wouldn't change it for the world.

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[piratewithvigor]

My first thought in regard to every band that gets played on my radio station

ACDC: Every dad’s favourite band

Adams, Bryan: Every mom’s favourite singer until Michael Buble came along

Aerosmith: haha they thought Vince Neil was a lady

Alice Cooper: he’s a Game Of Thrones fanboy and I have proof

Alice In Chains: my sister doesn’t like them because she decided AC were Alice Cooper’s initials ONLY

Allman Brothers Band: good music for dropping acid to

Allman, Gregg: That’s too many Gs for one name

Animals: House Of The Rising Sun, or who even cares

Argent: Sometimes Hold Your Head Up is really catchy

Asia: Tuesdays

Autograph: one of the members went on to be a pharmacist

Bachman-Turner Overdrive: There are just so many pop culture jokes about Taking Care Of Business that whatever I say won’t be as funny

Bad Company: with their song; Bad Company, off their album; Bad Company

Benatar, Pat: Always getting her confused with Patti Smith

Black Crowes: I like them for Lickin, but it doesn’t seem to exist outside of one shoddy video on youtube and my old CD

Blackfoot: this band name feels kind of racy

Black Sabbath: Dio was not better or worse than Ozzy; just different

Blondie: I like Call Me, but Blondie confuses me stylistically

Blue Oyster Cult: MORE COWBELL

Bon Jovi: Hello, childhood trauma, I missed you

Boston: ONE GUY. ONE GUY DID IT ALL AND NO ONE KNOWS

Bowie, David: Don’t let your children watch The Man Who Fell To Earth, or David Bowie’s will end up being the third penis they see in life

Browne, Jackson: Another musician ruined by Supernatural

Buffalo Springfield: Jack Nicholson was at the riot they sing about

Burdon, Eric: no ideas, brain empty

Bush: ditto

Candlebox: ditto once more. Who are these people?

Cars: This band feels so gay and so straight at the same time, I can only assume they’re the poster children of bisexual panic

Cheap Trick: I played Dream Police on Guitar Hero so fucking much because it was the only song anyone who played with me could keep up with

Chicago: Chicago 30 exists, but they do not have 30 albums. Fucking riddle me that

Clapton, Eric: 6 discs in one Greatest Hits is too many. That’s called “re releasing your discography”

Cochrane, Tom: For some reason, everyone thinks Rascal Flats did it better

Cocker, Joe: Belushi did it right

Collective Soul: who?

Collins, Phil: If his biggest hits were done by MCR, they would be emo anthems, but because he’s 5′6″ and from the 80s, they’re not

Cream: *Vietnam flashbacks on the hippie side*

CCR: *Vietnam flashbacks on the war side*

CSNY: David Crosby; meh

Deep Purple: THEY’RE SO MUCH MORE THAN SMOKE ON THE WATER

Def Leppard: the only music for when you’re a heartbroken bitch but also a sexy one

Derek And The Dominos: Clapton and ‘Layla’ broke up

Derringer, Rick: Tom Petty if he was from the midwest

Dio: You thought it was an anime reference, but it was me, Dio

Dire Straits: You can tell how bigoted a radio station is based on how much of Money For Nothing they censor

Doobie Brothers: I have yet to smoke weed, but I listen to the Doobies, and I think that’s pretty close

Dylan, Bob: I take back everything I said about him in my youth

Eagles: Hotel California isn’t their best song, but the memes that come from it are second to none

Edgar Winter Group: @the--blackdahlia

Electric Light Orchestra: Actually an orchestra and sound a fuckton like George Harrison

ELO: I really hesitate to ask what happens with the 7 virgins and a mule

Essex, David: no prominent memories of him

Fabulous Thunderbirds: cannot spell

Faces: Who on earth thought that was a good album name?

Faith No More: I got nothing

Fixx: One Thing Leads To Another is a damn bop

Fleetwood Mac: I ain’t straight, but I’m simply not enough of a witch to enjoy them to full potential

Fogerty, John: He got sued cause he sounded like himself

Foghat: Slow Ride slowly becoming less coherent feels like a drug trip

Foo Fighters: He was just excited to buy a grill

Ford, Lita: deserved better

Foreigner: dramatically overplayed

Frampton, Peter: a masterful user of the talk box

Free: dramatically underplayed

Gabriel, Peter: leaving Genesis changed him a lot

Genesis: if someone likes Genesis, clarify the era, because yes, it does matter

Georgia Satellites: sing like you have a cactus in your ass

Golden Earring: Twilight Zone slaps, but it doesn’t slap as hard as this station thinks it does

Grand Funk Railroad: Funk

Grateful Dead: I like their aesthetic more than their music

Great White: there are so many fucking shark jokes

Greenbaum, Norman: makes me think of Subway for some reason

Green Day: the first of the emo revolution

Greg Kihn Band: RocKihnRoll is literally the most clever album name I’ve ever seen

Guns N Roses: They have more than three good songs, but radio stations never recognize that

Hagar, Sammy: I’m still trying to figure out where he lived to take 16 hours to get to LA driving 55 and how fucking fast was he driving beforehand?

Harrison, George: He went from religious to rock, and if he had continued rocking, he would have gotten too cool 

Head East: I respect people who use breakfast foods as album names

Heart: Magic Man and Barracuda are played at least once every goddamn day. They’re not even the best songs!

Hendrix, Jimi: I have both a cousin and a sibling named after Hendrix references

Henley, Don: Dirty Laundry gives me too much inspiration

Hollies: Somehow sound like they’re both from the 60s and the 80s at the same time

Idol, Billy: he’s doing well for himself

INXS: Terminator vibes

Iris, Donnie: knockoff Roy Orbison

James Gang: too many funks

Jane’s Addiction: if TMNT had a grunge band representative

Jefferson Airplane: *assorted cheers*

Jefferson Starship: *assorted boos*

Jethro Tull: The only band to make you feel not cool enough to play the flute

Jett, Joan: icon

J. Geils Band: I requested them on the radio once and it got played

Joel, Billy: he really did just air everybody’s business like that

John Cafferty And The Beaver Brown Band: literally wtf is that name

John, Elton: yarn Elton sits in my basement, unstaring. Please someone take him from me

Joplin, Janis: Queen

Journey: Stop overplaying Don’t Stop Believing. It takes away from the rest of the repetoire

Judas Priest: literally started the gay leather aesthetic

Kansas: another fucking band Supernatural stole

Kenny Wayne Shepherd: the man confuses me to the point where he isn’t in the right place alphabetically

Kiss: Mick Mars and I will simply have to disagree on the subject

Kravitz, Lenny: runaway vibes

Led Zeppelin: Fucking fight me if you don’t think they’re the most talented band (maybe not the most talented individually, but collectively, no one comes close)

Lennon, John: My least favourite Beatle for reasons

Live: I got nothin

Living Colour: slap a decent amount

Loverboy: do you not get TURNT the fuck up to the big Loverboy hits? Who hurt you??

Lynyrd Skynyrd: Sweet Home Alabama is a Neil Young diss track

Marshall Tucker Band: no opinion

Manfred Mann’s Earth Band: VERY STRONG OPINIONS THAT THEY AREN’T GOOD

McCartney, Paul/Wings: Power couple

Meatloaf: I have nothing but respect for a man who willingly named himself Meatloaf

Mellencamp, John: voted cutest lesbian of 1987

Metallica: I liked their appearance on Jimmy Fallon

Midnight Oil: I get them confused for Talking Heads a lot

Modern English: who?

Molly Hatchet: Hollies vibes, but also Georgia Satellites vibes

Money, Eddie: DAN AVIDAN, IF YOU SEE THIS, COVER TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT

Motley Crue: Stan Mick Mars and John Corabi. They’re the only ones who deserve it

Mott The Hoople: no one loves them except for David Bowie

Mountain: props for naming an album ‘Climbing’

Nazareth: I want to make a John Mulaney joke here, but I can never come up with one

Nicks, Stevie: witch queen

Night Ranger: I get them confused with Urge Overkill

Nirvana: Kurt Cobain was the ally grunge needed

Nova, Aldo: he’s Canadian, at least

Nugent, Ted: *serves a ghost as jerky*

Offspring: nothing here

Osbourne, Ozzy: this bitch crazy

Outfield: Your Love is kind of a sketchy song, but it slaps hard

Palmer, Robert: low quality Eddie Money

Pearl Jam: *grunts in Eddie Vedder*

Petty, Tom: I have so many feelings about Tom Petty and they are all good

Pink Floyd: which one is Pink?

Plant, Robert: solo career is a crapshoot, but his voice is unparalleled

Poison: I want them to write a song called ‘Alice Cooper’

Pretenders: I want to say good things, but I have nothing to say

Queen: A doctor of astrophysics, a screaming girl, a disco queen and a diva walk into a bar. It’s Queen; they’re there to play a gig

Queensryche: neutral opinion

Quiet Riot: they got big because of a song they hated. I love that

Rafferty, Gerry: the second-sexiest sax opening in all of music

Rainbow: Ritchie Blackmore created something very magnificent

Ram Jam: one good song and they didn’t even write it

Ratt: I’m sure they have more than Round And Round, but I don’t know it

RHCP: funky, but if you have paid money to hear them, you’re going to The Bad Place (I don’t make the rules)

Red Rider: basically Golden Earring

Reed, Lou: Walk On The Wild Side would be such a cool song if it wasn’t so dull

REM: American Tragically Hip

REO Speedwagon: Props for having a dad joke as an album title

Rolling Stones: Never in my life could I imagine the drummer being named anything but Charlie

Rush: How to make being uncool the coolest fucking shit

Santana: The world needs more Santana

Scandal: There’s something really funny about The Warrior being my brother’s “song” with his girlfriend

Scorpions: Was Wind Of Change written by the CIA? Only the spotify podcast I got an ad for once could say

Seger, Bob: A different variety of Eric Clapton (frankly a better variety, but that’s just me)

Simple Minds: we ALL forgot about you

Skid Row: Sebastian Bach is prettier than all of us

Soundgarden: music that makes you feel like you dunked your head underwater

Springsteen, Bruce: my arch-nemesis. Maybe someday, he’ll find out about it

Squeeze: according to my friends, the stupidest band name ever, but they’re theatre kids, so you know

Squier, Billy: If he can make it through 1984 alive, you can make it through whatever bad day you’re having

Stealers Wheel: Yet another band who I always mistake for George Harrison

Steely Dan: my house’s nickname for the Robber in Settlers Of Catan

Steppenwolf: Either makes me think of Jay & Silent Bob, Jack Nicholson, or that time I had to cut 6lbs of onions

Steve Miller Band: when you’re in the right mood, they slap hard

Stewart, Rod: my soundtrack to summer 2015

Stills, Stephen: Love The One You’re With Is Catchy, but the lyrics are questionable

Stone Temple Pilots: the only band to write a song about goo you smear on yourself

Stray Cats: an obscene amount of merch is available for them

Styx: Supernatural would have ruined them for me too if I hadn’t been into them previously. 

Supertramp: I hunted for Breakfast In America for two years and it was worth every hunt

Sweet: I will never understand my two-month obsession with Ballroom Blitz when I was 15, but it was legit all I listened to

Talking Heads: you may find yourself in a pizza hut. And you may find yourself in a taco bell. And you may find yourself at the combination pizza hut and taco bell. And you may ask yourself; ‘how did I get here?’

Temple Of The Dog: I keep confusing them for Nazareth

Ten Years After: somehow still relevant

Tesla: not the car or the dude

The Beatles: Evokes a lot of opinions from people. Mine is that I love them

The Clash: I showed my sister the ‘Lock The Taskbar’ vine ONCE and it still kills her

The Doors: evokes teenage terror from deep within my soul

The Guess Who: Canada’s answer to confusing question-themed band names

The Kinks: kinky

The Police: wrote the theme of 2020 and everyone somehow forgot it was about a teacher resisting becoming a pedophile

The Ramones: playing all of their songs in a row wouldn’t take more than 2 hours

The Romantics: you don’t think you know them, but if you’ve seen Shrek 2, you have

The Who: If someone can explain Tommy to me, I’d be glad to hear it

The Zombies: I think they happened because of the 60s

Thin Lizzy: Could the boys maybe leave town?

Thorogood, George: blues, but make it modern

Toto: the most memed song behind All Star

Townshend, Pete: just makes me think of the end of Mr. Deeds

T-Rex: Mark Bolan is an icon

Triumph: The no-name brand of Rush

Tubes: like the yogurt

Twisted Sister: they did a christmas album and my mom does NOT hate it

U2: U2 Movers; we move in mysterious ways

Van Halen: RIP Eddie

Van Morrison: honestly, who’s named Van?

Vaughn, Stevie Ray: Steamy Ray Vaughn

Walsh, Joe: The Smoker You Drink The Player You Get

War: Foghat, but even groovier

Whitesnake: the most successful band to be named after a penis

Wright, Gary: the 90s thanks him for writing the song every movie used for the “guy sees cute girl and it’s love at first sight” scene

Yes: To Be Continued

Young, Neil: The best part of CSNY

Zevon, Warren: the album cover of Excitable Boy makes me deeply uncomfortable for reasons I don’t understand

ZZ Top: has been the same three guys since 1969. Lineup unchanged. 

3 Doors Down: They feel a little modern to be on a classic rock station, but whatever

38 Special: Why 38?

[writersrealmbts]

Take This Road

Description: Part of the summer #btswritingbingo, hosted by @bangtanwritingbingo​! For road trip.  You've taken an unusual turn in your road trip, and your new passenger is the primary cause.

Warnings: casual discussions of arson and murder

Posted: 07/31/2021

Tags: Jungkook x reader, sort of mafia au? sort of gang au?, road trip au

idk what genre this is: 1,503 words

A/N: This one was really fun

Too many snacks.

You had too many snacks for one person.

So...was it fate that brought your passenger?

Or was it the fact that he shoved someone under your tires as you were driving past?

“So...remind me again where we’re going to dump this body?” You asked.

“He’s not dead.”

“Yet.”

“Yet. If he does die...well, there’s a nice floating bog not too far from where I live that could work. Or I could use him as a decoy body in a housefire.”

“Oooh, I know this one,” You chirped, turning the volume up and singing along with the radio.

Your passenger, the one that wasn’t dying, was soon singing with you.

It did strike you that maybe you shouldn’t be so casual about the fact that you were transporting a dying person with the person who had tried to kill him using your vehicle, but honestly...you kind of were guessing that the guy you ran over may or may not have been abusive and you didn’t really feel like asking.

“Such a good song,” Your passenger sighed. “Oh, I don’t think I told you, but I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you Jungkook, y/n.”

“Nice to meet you. Sorry to change your plans.”

“No problem, really. I was kind of bored. If you want any snacks, feel free to grab any. Any but the chocolate covered pretzels. Those are mine and I will shove you under my tires.”

“Understood. So, should I explain why I tried to kill him?”

“I mean, if you like. Do I need to turn here?”

“No, it’ll be the next one. So, that guy is actually a loan shark. Except, when you can’t pay in cash, he takes people.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah. I was hoping he’d be helpful and tell me where he sent my friends, but...well….” He glanced back as the other man began to groan softly. “Oh. He’s waking up.”

“You tied him up, right?”

“Yeah. I owe you a roll of duct-tape and some zip-ties.”

“Don’t worry about the zip-ties. I’m not really even sure why I had them. Anyway, he took your friends?”

“Yeah. So I’ve been trying to track them down ever since. And then he told me tonight that one of them had died before he even sold them and I guess I saw red.”

“Well, I’d be concerned if you thought my car was purple or green.”

“True,” He tried a few different snacks before settling in with one. “Anyway, if he died, no big. If he lives and tells me what happened to them, awesome. I’ve got enough leads to carry on without him if I have to. What about you? You’re taking all of this surprisingly well.”

“He kind of struck me as an abusive bastard, to be honest. And that’s while looking at him half-dead on the road. But nah, I’m just sort of wandering around. I recently quit my job, and I’ve been on a road trip in the interim before my next job starts.”

“What’s your new job?”

“I’m working for Taiji International. Personal secretary to one of the higher-ups.”

“Isn’t that the one with suspected Mafia affiliations?”

“Possibly. I could probably poke around and see if they have any idea about your friends for you.”

“That’d be cool.” He sighed. “It looks like he might live.”

“Have you ever been to Keirishiro?”

“No. My parents always told me it was full of Mafias and gangs.”

“Exactly. He’s probably affiliated with some group. Which means they’re probably after you.”

“Probably….”

“So, we put him in your place and burn it down. They’ll find out it’s him, no problem, and then there’s just the question of where you went. No one would expect someone so wholly unconnected to you to be hiding you, or helping you.”

“But the fire….”

“Is the easy part. Frito’s bag near some outlet or appliance. Leaves no trace. Set these aside.” You pulled the bag up and tossed it at him.

“What about your road-trip?”

“Oh, I thought we could go to Keirishiro after burning your place down. That’s where my job is. You can stay with me. We’ll work on disguises for you, and I’ll find out if my work is associated with a Mafia or not. Then we can go from there. Hopefully they’re not associated with this piece of work.”

“You grew up in the Mafia, didn’t you?”

“Nah. I just spent way too much time working customer service.”

“Oh, I love this song,” He turned the radio up again, jamming to the song on the radio.

You thought the trip ahead of you would be quite pleasant with Jungkook for company.

“We’re going to pretend we’re dating, right?”

You hummed. “Actually, we might need to pretend we’re married. I sort of lied and said I was getting ready to be married which was why I wanted so much time before I started this job.” You rolled your eyes. “I was just going to say, ‘oh, it fell through and I was so heartbroken’ but a fake marriage would suffice.”

“Okay. Sounds good to me. With any luck, even if people know about me they may not know what I look like, so I might be able to pass as someone else. Then I’ll be sure to sell the part. And when the time comes, we split amicably.”

“Works for me. Go fifty-fifty on chores?”

“Mmmm, sixty-forty, I might not be able to swing as much for rent as you.”

“Ah. Between jobs?”

“Kind of. Something about endangering coworkers.”

“Oof. Yeah. We’ll see if we can find someone to forge an identity for you, that way you can get a job if it’s safe to show your face.”

“I might know a place. Got any CD’s?”

“CD player is broken and the last CD put in was a kids CD. Don’t touch the CD player. On the one hand, I know twenty children's songs. On the other hand, I would like to throttle whoever broke the CD player because I know twenty children’s songs.”

“Got any drinks?”

“In the cooler, behind your seat.”

“Ah!” He unbuckled and reached around, getting drinks for both of you. “I’m thinking: maybe instead of burning my place we just clean it out and dump him in the bog, whether dead or alive. That way we don’t draw unnecessary attention to me.”

“Fair. Okay. Then where am I going?”

“Stay on this road for another...five miles?”

“Map in the glove-box.”

He pulled it out, unfolding it and taking a few moments to gather his bearings. “Yeah, about five miles, I think. It’ll be the third road on the left.”

“Okay. Feel free to mess with the temp controls, I tend to keep things cooler than they need to be.”

“I’m good. Might channel surf, though,” He said, waiting until you had nodded to start trying other stations on the radio.

“You have a license?”

“Definitely.”

“Great. We can take turns driving, then.”

“Works for me.”

“Uuaaaghhhh...wh--what?”

You glanced in the rear-view mirror. “Oh dear.”

Jungkook quickly got up to deal with the passenger. “Didn’t expect him to wake up.”

You sighed. “Poor soul, he just didn’t know what hit him.”

“Better than he deserves,” Jungkook muttered, holding up a notebook. “I forgot to mention, I got his ledger from him. There are lots of names in here.”

“Ugh. A bog is almost too good for him.”

“Almost,” Jungkook agreed, sliding back into his seat. “You understand the danger we’re getting into, right?”

“Yeah. I do.” You gestured to your backpack. “Front pocket, there’s a bag with some jewelry in it. There should be two rings. They were my parents. But they’ll do.”

He followed your instructions, pulling them out. He slipped your father’s onto his ring finger. “Fits well. Here you are, my wife.”

“Why, thank you, husband,” You said, taking your mother’s ring and slipping it onto your ring finger.

“So...what happened to them?”

“Hmm? Oh, no, they’re fine, but my father can’t wear rings because they make his fingers swell and my mom broke her ring finger so her ring didn’t fit anymore. They tattooed rings on their fingers instead.”

“Ah. So...your family is alive...and you’re still okay with this?”

You considered what to tell him. “My parents are private investigators.”

“So, this is….”

“Definitely not something they would want me doing. They’ve never been a fan of me sticking my nose into dangerous situations. But...you know. When both of your parents are private investigators….”

“It’s in your blood. Cool. I’ll follow your lead then.” He smiled, kind of peeking down at the ring. “I’ll be a supportive husband.”

“And I will be a loving wife,” You answered, sharing a smile with him. “This could be a lot of fun.”

“It really could.” Jungkook grinned and leaned back in his seat, staring at the road ahead. “Next road.”

“Right.”

You looked forward to where this journey led you.

[alwaysxyou]

why louis tomlinson is william bowery

i tried to keep this as neutral as possible and include everything i could think of, please let me know if you think of anything else! 

William Bowery himself

Louis’ middle name is William

Bowery is a Strathclyde-Briton last name, derived from the old English world Bower, or bow maker. Bow makers made bows for bow and arrows -> louis has an arrow tattoo 

The Bowery is a street and neighborhood in the southern portion of the New York City borough of Manhattan. In addition to the Bowery Neighborhood being home to the Bowery Poetry Club which welcomed creatives including gay poets,  The Bowery Mural is an outdoor art installation made famous after Keith Haring painted a mural in 1982. 

Louis is a fan of Keith Haring, having worn a shirt of his before while holding a duck. (and well..the other person he knows who really likes keith haring iykyk)

Speaking of walls, Louis’ debut album Walls had its album premiere show on January 31st at Rough Trade NYC. Rough Trade NYC is managed by The Bowery Presents. 

Some fans who received signed Taylor cds found the initials WB or a smiley face written on the top (next to Louis’ w’s for reference)

What we know about William Bowery: 

Aaron Dessener - who produced and co-wrote 11 songs on folklore does not know who William is and has never met him. He said he did not think it was an alias but then admitted he did not know and Taylor does mysterious stuff all the time, so he couldn’t be sure.

Based on writing ability (and Dessener’s comments) he is an established songwriter. 

exile

written by william bowery, justin vernon (bon iver) and taylor swift

William Bowery wrote the original idea for exile before giving it to Taylor to run with. 

Taylor’s description of exile: ‘exile’ is a song that was written about miscommunications in relationships, and in the case of this song, I imagined that the miscommunications ended the relationship. They led to the demise of this love affair, and now these two people are seeing each other out for the first time, and they keep miscommunicating with each other. They can’t quite get on the same page, they never were able to. And even in their end, even after they’ve broken up, they’re still not hearing each other. So we imagined the beginning would be his side of the story, the second verse her side of the story, and the end would be the story of them talking over each other and not hearing each other. We’re really stoked about how it turned out because it really does seem to be about the tragedy of two people, of two ships passing in the night.

betty

written by william bowery and taylor swift 

the song uses the two names “James” and “Inez”. These are the names of Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively’s daughters. It is thought their third daughter is named Betty, which is where the song title came from. 

March 3 - Ryan Reynolds liked Louis’ tweet about his Barcelona show. This would have been before Taylor started writing. But Reynolds is a fan of Louis, and a fan of One Direction for years.

lyric details:

bonus “riding on my skateboard”

Additional Points

Back in September 2019, Louis gave an interview to Forbes about Kill My Mind and talked about admiring Taylor’s interactions with her fans

Taylor posted that she started writing cardigan on April 27, so writing began for folklore by that date. Louis posted a photo playing his guitar on April 23 and May 27 (Instagram Story)

May 2 Louis tweeted he had lots of ideas (which fits with him sending the idea for exile to taylor for her to run with) 

May 11 Louis tweeted he was trying to be more creative the past few weeks 

 in summary: louis tomlinson is william bowery you cant change my mind

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Shinkai Hana no Shou Toudou After Story Translation

This is my last post of the month, so I’ll end by asking you to please support me if you can through my ko-fi, and paypal or patreon which provides access to my hakuoki blog translations and early access to my postings. Also, please let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my Lookout List since i either do not have audio for those cds or do not have audio that I can share.... and if you are able to remove watermarks from a video, please contact me.  

anyway, i finally stopped lazing around... and translated this. This translation is Heisuke’s story from the 「 薄桜鬼 真改 華ノ章」 ステラワース早期予約特典 小冊子, and I will be posting Souji’s story for this next week...

Hakuoki Shinkai Hana no Shou After Story Translation - Toudou Heisuke

Translation by KumoriYami

A few months after the battle to the death with the former Shinsengumi General Secretary [used what wikipedia uses for Sanan's position for this again since i don’t like the English localization term] , Sanan Keisuke, and the rasetsu that he led——.

"Oi, Chizuru, come look over here."

The person yelling out loud, was the former Shinsengumi Eighth Division Captain, Toudou Heisuke.

"What is it? Heisuke-kun."

The one speaking was the young woman, Yukimura Chizuru, who, due to misfortune, ended up staying with the Shinsengumi, and later departed with Toudou when he left his post.

This was the home where Chizuru was born, in what was known as the Yukimura Village. It was a deserted village in the mountains where it was unlikely anyone woud ever go, and it was here that the two of them were living peacefully.

"Ah......"

Looking to see what was in Toudou's line of sight, she couldn't help but widen her eyes.

It was a bunch of lovely birds chirping together.

"How cute."

Chizuru smiled. Her innocent smile, which was like that of a little girl, enraptured Toudou.

(If it was Sano-san, perhaps he'd say something like "I think that you're even cuter," or something, then gently pat her head and maybe hold her......)

He wasn't able to pull off any of those moves, but even if he wanted to at least say something nice to make her happy, he couldn't think of anything to say.

Toudou was like a block of wood. Chizuru, who felt this was strange, waved her hand in his direction.

"What's wrong?"

"Ah...... No, it's nothing......"

In order for her to not realize that he was feeling embarrassed, he turned his gaze back towards the birds.

"Th-These little guys, I only scattered out some of the leftover food from yesterday, and they all swarmed together here.

"So that's what happened. Heisuke-kun is very kind."

The sudden admiring words caused his heart to feel tickled. By no means was it something that he disliked feeling, but he wasn't accustomed to it, and still didn't know how to respond right now.

"Uh, I don't think I'm kind......"

The moment he responded, he regretted it.

(What am I saying....... Chizuru rarely praises me, so why am I denying what what she says like this?)

As he glanced at Chizuru, wondering if she would have been upset by what he had said just now, but her expression looked the same as usual, without even the slightest hints of change.

Upon seeing this, Toudou put aside what was weighing down on his mind, and opened his mouth to speak.

"Hey...... if we fed these birds like this every day, would they become closer to us?"

"Because they're wild birds, I think it would take a long time for us to get closer to them......"

Chizuru spoke quietly, and then turned back towards the small birds.

Her eyes were full of gentleness and care, and Toudou wasn't able to take his own eyes off her.

(It's truly amazing. I obviously see her everyday, but how am I still always like this?)

Regardless of how many times his gaze fell upon her, he didn't think he'd ever tire of this. There was nothing that ever made him feel like this before.

Finally, she turned around.

"There won't be a problem. These birds will surely be able to feel Heisuke-kun's kindness."

Gazing into her two large eyes, he felt his heart skip a beat.

Those gentle eyes of hers——they seemed to be able to see through Toudou's heart, all of his worries, and all of his fears, and transformed them into the strength he needed to survive.

"But, I......"

Perhaps I won't live to see the day that these little guys get close to me. Such a response almost escaped from his mouth, and he hurriedly swallowed it back down.

"Heisuke-kun?"

Likely thinking that he was behaving oddly, she doubtfully tilted her head.

Toudou continued to keep his head lowered, and remained silent.

As a result of this, she gently held his hands. Although her hands were rough from working every day, they were still different than a man's hands, and were soft and delicate.

His heart beat faster, and it even gave him the impression that his heart had grown several times larger.

(I've always been saved by that expression of hers. And from now on, it will always be like this......)

Since coming here, because of how worried he was about tomorrow, he's had more than one or two sleepless nights.

——If I sleep, will I never wake up again, and be myself and walk on the road to hell alone?

In the past, when his imagination would always run wild as he slept, it was the warmth of both of her hands that eliminated his worries.

Toudou tightened his grasp on her hand, and pulled Chizuru into his arms.

"Heisuke-kun......?"

There was a flash of surprise on her face, but once she understood what was happening, she quietly closed her eyes.

Words were unnecessary to communicate. This made him feel very happy.

After softly sighing, Toudou's lips were pressed against Chizuru's lips.

The soft feeling of their lips touching immediately eliminated all of his worries, and completely filled his heart with his love for her.

He could hear the light brush of the wind and the chirps of those birds, but soon, the only sound he was able to hear, was that of their heartbeats.

Small hands rested against Toudou's chest.

Her action made Toudou feel even more affectionate, and he tightly hugged Chizuru's body.

After their long kiss ended, he felt reluctant to part, and was silent as their lips left one another.

"Heisuke-kun......"

She weakly called Toudou's name, then snuggled against him. There was a sweet smell that arose from her  body which tickled his nose. It was almost dream-like, and faintly smelt like fragrance of sakura.

"......Thank you, Chizuru. It's thanks to you, that I am able to live now."

Toudou held Chizuru in his arms, and spoke with mixed feelings.

-End-

[ohayohimawari]

And it was Love at First Brawl

A drabble written for Day 7 of @kakaobiweek Violet | Music | Fantasy

This is another humorous piece appropriate for teen-and-up readers and set in a modern AU.

This drabble is heavily inspired by my good friend @azuzeldraws incredible art series, Metal Konoha, and I dedicate this chapter to her. Thank you, Zu, for letting us use your amazing work to promote this event!

And it was Love at First Brawl

It was one of those Friday nights when Kakashi left the restaurant with a stomach full of his favorite supper and an empty soul after dining alone.

Though the day neared its end, Konoha’s club district was just beginning to wake. The streets were full of jaywalkers, inexperienced parallel-parkers, and the night owl versions of early birds lined up in boisterous queues waiting for the bars to open.

Kakashi felt entirely out of place and maybe almost too old for this scene while he dutifully waited at the corner for the pedestrian crossing light to signal his turn. He stepped into the crosswalk once it was safe, and he saw a man on the opposite side, jogging towards the intersection to cross before the light changed.

Kakashi stopped in his tracks in the middle of the street, entirely entranced.

He watched the individual blades of the other man’s black, unruly hair as they bounced with each step. He wore a t-shirt that fitted him like he was born to wear it and a healthy glow on every inch of exposed skin. His sparkling eyes met Kakashi’s as he trotted past him on the street and offered a greeting through a roguish grin. “Hey.”

And that was all it took.

Being a classic lit teacher, he had a multitude of words at his disposal. That man was vivacity personified, and Kakashi turned on his heel, following him with his eyes. The dark-haired man ran right up to the door of the seediest bar on the street and gleefully skipped up the stairs. He exchanged laughter and a handshake with the bouncer and disappeared inside.

The pedestrian light flashed red, alerting Kakashi that he still stood in the middle of the street. His feet moved of their own accord, and a moment later, his brain agreed with their plan. He retraced his steps, abandoning his intention to go home, knowing he would abandon much more than that for a chance to meet the stranger that charmed him.

As driven as he was, Kakashi hesitated for a moment outside of the club, assessing it. The sidewalk in front of it was littered with empty bottles and cigarette butts, and two people appeared to be doing something he didn’t want to interrupt in the shadows of the alley next to it. Then, he assessed himself.

He was dressed more casually than usual, out for a date with nobody but him, wearing a t-shirt that featured a band called ROOT. He had no idea who they were, or why they used all capital letters, but his students chose it from the trendy store Boiling Subject as a gift for him, and it was comfortable after wearing a tie all day. Deciding that his attire was appropriate for the venue, Kakashi walked up the stairs that led to the door, where he was stopped by the same menacing bouncer that laughed only moments before.

“You sure you wanna do this?” The man growled through scarred lips.

“Pretty sure,” Kakashi replied, though his confidence wavered.

“We don’t want any trouble.” The man’s muscles bulged in a show of strength as he folded his arms across his chest.

“I don’t want to bring any,” Kakashi replied, honestly.

“Let him in, Ibiki.” A pony-tailed bartender wearing a high-cut shirt that showed more cleavage than fabric chastised the bouncer.

“Whatever you say, Anko,” Ibiki moved aside to allow Kakashi into the bar.

As foreboding as the exchange was, it caught the attention of the handsome dark-haired stranger who stood at the bar. Bolstered, Kakashi stood in the space next to him.

“What can I getcha, hon?” Anko tossed a stained cardboard coaster onto the bar in front of him.

“A beer,” Kakashi ordered as if he’d never been to a pub before, too nervous to recall his favorite drink.

Anko retrieved a bottle from the cooler behind her while Kakashi withdrew a few bills from his wallet. Then, he wrapped his hand around the bottle of Lone Ninja Star she offered after opening it with her teeth.

Kakashi ignored how unhygienic it was to take a sip from the bottle as he did it, glancing around the bar, looking everywhere but at the man that led him there. It was half-full of patrons in various stages of sobriety and had a stage all set up and waiting for a band to perform. When he finished noting where all the emergency exits were, the most incredible thing happened.

“Cheers,” Mr. Vivacity said, bringing their beer bottles together in a toast.

“Cheers,” Kakashi replied, then pulled a long swig from the bottle, savoring the moment that the man of his dreams had spoken first.

“So, uh,” the dark-haired man glanced down at Kakashi’s shirt, and a chuckle bubbled out of him, “you like this band too?” He tilted his head in the direction of the stage.

“Um, yeah," Kakashi stammered, "I mean, yes. Yes, I do."

"Cool," Mr. Vivacity replied with a smile that made Kakashi's knees buckle. "Which of their CDs is your favorite?"

Kakashi's quick mind kicked into gear on the spot. If the band had multiple releases, then the safest answer would be, "I think their first one."

"Really?" The dark-haired man appeared pleasantly surprised. "So, you're an old-school fan, huh?"

“Yep, I guess I am,” Kakashi laughed a little awkwardly and brought his beer back to his lips.

“I think my favorite track on that one is, Kill Me With Your Kekkei Genkai,” Mr. Vivacity nodded, thinking aloud, and Kakashi felt his eyes bulge, worried that he might not be able to keep up the facade. But then he was spared when the other man suddenly changed the subject. “By the way, my name is—”

“Crybaby Tobi, you finally made it!” A man with slicked blonde hair and wearing a shirt with religious cult symbols literally crashed into their conversation, spilling his beer on Kakashi’s shirt.

The unwelcome interruption glanced at him. “My bad,” he drawled unapologetically, looking down at the soiled shirt. Then, his eyes shot up to meet Kakashi’s.

“WHOA! You’ve got balls, man!”

“Thank you,” Kakashi decided to take it as a compliment, turning towards the bar to grab a few napkins. He blotted at his shirt when Anko shouted to him that there was a hot air dryer in the men’s room, and, as much as Kakashi didn’t want to walk away from Mr. Crybaby before he could learn his real name, he didn’t want to stand there like an idiot in a wet ROOT t-shirt.

By the time he exited the bathroom, a makeshift merchandise table had appeared near it, so he bee-lined to it to learn more about the band to contribute to a conversation about them. At least, now he knew the band’s name was ANBU, and he wondered what was up with bands using all capital letters.

He had barely begun to browse the tracklist on the back of one of the CDs when the purple-haired, facial-pierced woman at the table asked, “You gonna buy that?”

Something about her tone made Kakashi feel obligated to pull out his wallet, and he handed over a twenty-dollar bill.

“I don’t have change for that,” she deadpanned, bored, and sarcastic.

Suddenly, the bar erupted with shouting, so Kakashi quickly grabbed a second CD to even out the exchange and hurried back to the bar and Mr. Vivacity, or Crybaby, or whoever he was.

Then, his heart sank when he saw that the other man wasn’t there anymore.

Kakashi stood in front of the stage feeling like the biggest fish out of water when the club’s sound system screamed into life with the ear-splitting sound of feedback through the amps. Kakashi covered his ears and spun around in time to catch the band taking their positions onstage.

The singer set down a six-pack next to his mic and yanked one can of beer free from it. He held it sideways in his hand, pulled out a kunai, and stabbed it in the middle before bringing the punctured hole to his mouth.

“Tenzō! Tenzō! Tenzō!” The crowd chanted while he shotgunned the beer and cheered when he crushed the empty can against his head. He grabbed the microphone in front of him when his large, almond eyes made bigger by copious amounts of black eyeliner landed on Kakashi.

“What the fu —” He roared, launching himself off the stage, tackling Kakashi to the ground.

Even though he was a classic lit teacher, Kakashi held his own for a long time in a fight against a bar full of punks until he took one bottle to the head too many and woke up in the alley next to the bar.

“Hey,” Kakashi winced as he turned his head to see who spoke to him, already recognizing that voice and feeling a little happier than concussed. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Kakashi muttered, “thanks, Mr. Crybaby.”

“It’s Obito,” the other man laughed, “and you’re welcome, Mr. Metalhead.”

“I didn’t fool you for a second, did I?” Kakashi licked at his fattened, split bottom lip, hoping he looked like he deserved sympathy. “I’m Kakashi, by the way.”

Obito snickered and pressed a bag of ice against Kakashi’s head. “I figured you didn’t quite know what you walked into, wearing a ROOT t-shirt to an ANBU gig.”

“What was that all about?”

“Tenzō used to be the drummer for that band, but he had a big blow-up with their manager, Danzō, so he quit and formed his own band. There’s a lot of bad blood there.”

Kakashi looked down, embarrassed, not knowing what to say and feeling like a total idiot.

“Why did you come to the bar?” Obito asked quietly.

Kakashi sighed through his nose. If he learned anything that night, it was that honesty probably came with less violence. “You.”

“Me?” Obito asked, even more timidly.

“Yeah,” Kakashi glanced up at him. “You passed me on the street, and, I… I just had to meet you,” he felt a little like a weirdo admitting it out loud, but he was past the point of stopping now. “I dunno, I, I just had a feeling, and I didn’t want to let you slip away.”

“Me too,” Obito confided, lowering the bag of ice, and Kakashi peered at him through the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “I was just about to run back out when you showed up at the door. I uh, I’m the sound guy here,” he tilted his head towards the bar, “and I was running late; otherwise, I would’ve stopped right there in the crosswalk. But when I saw the band was running late, I was about to go after you,” he ended with a shy smirk.

“You’re the sound guy?” Kakashi’s brain was turning to mush and it had nothing to do with how many blows he took to the face.

“Yeah, I, uh,” Obito brought the ice back up to Kakashi’s head, “I messed with their levels hoping the feedback would distract Tenzō long enough for you to get out of his line of sight, but,” he grimaced.

“You wanna go for a drink with me?” Kakashi mumbled, knowing he couldn’t embarrass himself anymore that night.

Obito chuckled at him and held up his hand. “How many fingers do you see?”

Kakashi focused on the fingers in front of his face. “Three?”

Obito laughed louder and stood up, “Wrong.” He helped Kakashi to his feet, “Looks like Konoha ER is our first date.”

[rockthistowninsideout]

DigiWeek 2021

Day 7 - Home (Free Day)

The Story

   “Uh-oh as much as you want! Now the time is over for Digimon and all those supporting them!”, the blonde girl shouted and finally rounded the ledge. She wore a red-and-blue checked school uniform and a devilish grin on her face.

   “Why would you want to end the Digimon?”, Kamemon cried out.

   “Because they are destructive and cannot be trusted!”

   “Then why do you have a Digimon partner?”, Ryudamon asked.

   The girl, who still hadn’t introduced herself, laughed menacingly. _“_There’s no such thing as Digimon partner. Humans can never live in peace with them. Grizzlymon is merely a tool because it was stupid enough to think the same as you. Wanted to become my partner – Instead I made it my slave. It’s what Digimon deserve to be so mindlessly wrecking.”

   “You tested your black spikes on it, didn’t you?” I asked as I caught a glimpse of a sharp tip protruding from its fur.

   She eyed me with a gaze that swung between annoyance and approval. “Oh yes! It was really eager to be my guinea pig and I have to admit it’s doing an excellent job as my assassin. But then again Digimon are nothing but war machines.”

   “That’s not true!”, Kamemon cried out. It seemed to feel deeply offended by the girl’s sermon.

   And I understood that. Kamemon and Ryudamon had been nothing but kind and helpful, and Frezamon had only attacked us because the black spike had corrupted it. Something truly dire had probably happened in her life. To buy time, I asked “What’s your name?”

   Her eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. She positioned herself straddle-legged before us, hands on her hips, and declared “I am Tamina and you will soon praise me as the Extinguisher of Digimon!”

   Taki leaned into me “She’s got a serious screw loose. White people and their megalomaniac ideas.”

   While I wholeheartedly agreed, I couldn’t shake the feeling that some serious trauma bubbled close beneath the surface. Before I could elaborate on that note, she cried “Grizzlymon, attack!”

   Her Digimon, or better say, her brainwashed minion, unleashed a Heavy Attack. We could duck down and escape to the right, but the attack was so strong that it shattered the stony ledge we’d been hiding under. The shards were blown in all directions and we only stayed safe because Ryudamon threw itself before us and blocked the shrapnel with its armour.

   I looked to Kamemon. “Are you ready?” It nodded. I gripped my DigiVice tightly and as Kamemon started to glow, it vibrated in my hand. When the evolution was done, it identified the new Digimon in our ranks as Gwappamon. Gwappamon was roughly a head or two shorter than what I remembered DexDorugamon to be. Instead of Kamemon’s helmet it had brown dreadlock-like hair that was crowned by a CD. Around its neck a pair of headphones was slung and its belly was stitched and patched up. It parried Grizzlymon’s attack with a Gwappa Punch.

   “See, you’re also only using the Digimon as fighters”, Tamina yelled in triumph.

   “Well, we don’t want to get ourselves killed by you poor Digimon!”, Taki shouted. “I can only pity it, both of you, actually.”

   “Why do you pity me? Pity yourself for being led to believe that Digimon are good!”

   We jumped apart when Grizzlymon launched its next attack. I ran towards the rocks where the ice sheet was wedged when an idea struck me. We were four and they were only a pair. We should have an advantage here.

   Tamina was concentrated on directing Grizzlymon against Gwappamon who was sparring exceptionally. So I had the chance to communicate with Taki and Ryudamon, at least non-verbally. Taki agreed with my plan: I wanted to lure Grizzlymon away by letting myself be reflected in the ice mirror. That was suppposed to irritate Grizzlymon enough to let its focus slip. Hopefully that gave Ryudamon enough time to jump on Grizzlymon’s back. Then Gwappamon could join forces with Ryudamon and we could pin down Tamina.

   I bent down and started forming snow balls. When I had a small battery of them at my feet, I threw them at Grizzlymon with force. After the third, it turned around annoyed. To be on the safe side, I threw a couple more, one hit it straight between the eyes. With a roar, it charged at me. Well, what it supposed was me, but it actually was my reflection it ran towards. Before Tamina could order it to stop it had hit the ice with a sickening crash, the impact was enough to let the ice splitter into a million pieces.

   Immediately, Ryudamon was on its back, clawing into its think fur. Grizzlymon roared in agony but before it could shake Ryudamon off, Gwappamon had thrown it into the snow. Tamina was shouting, she tore at her hair, until we were at her sides and gripped her arms tightly. “Let. Me. Go!” she yelled repeatedly, though her voice grew smaller and smaller until she was mere wax in our hands. Uncontrolled sobs were shaking her body. Taki and I looked at each other, we both simply felt sympathy now. We led Tamina towards the yurt where she collapsed in front of the entrance.

   I wanted to enter but the darkness that had risen from the chimney had now filled the entire hut so I quickly drew the curtain back and told Taki and Tamina that we had to evacuate right now. Tamina was unable to walk, it seemed that only her rage and misguided mission had been holding her up, so I scooped her up bridal-style and hurried down the mountain as fast as I could.

   In passing Taki shouted towards the Digimon to destroy the yurt – Grizzlymon had now been freed from the spike and was looking around confused. Gwappamon sent the CD on its head spinning which tore open a slit in the fabric of the yurt and Ryudamon set the hut ablaze with its Tera Burst. The yurt exploded and the shockwave pushed me several metres down the slope.

   We took shelter behind a particularly sturdy looking ledge. I sat Tamina down who was sobbing. “Shh” I said. “You are okay now.”

   “Yeah, it’s alright”, Taki seconded. After a brief pause she said “And whenever you’re ready, you can tell us why you hate Digimon so much.”

   Tamina was quiet for a few moments, only furiously wiping away the tears from her eyes. I gave her a handkerchief from my school bag. She took it with a grateful expression but she wasn’t smiling yet. Finally she whispered “My mom.” She hiccuped before she could continue “My mom died when Parrotmon and Greymon fought in Hikarigaoka. She was the only victim when she got hit by fallen debris that’s been, well, I don’t know if it came from a bridge, or an apartment building, of it it was a car. It also doesn’t really matter. I wasn’t afraid to see these two creatures fight when I watched them but when I learned that they were responsible for Mommy’s death, I swore revenge. And over the years, my anger only grew whenever I saw Digimon running rampant in the city and all across the globe. They caused malfunctions and destroyed everything. But as far as I know my mom was the only fatality in all those year. I always felt that the government wasn’t doing enough so I itched for a chance to right it myself.”

   She paused to inhale deeply. “And some time ago, I don’t if it’s been hours, or days, or weeks – time works different in the Digital World – I walked home from school when someone called me down a stairwell between two streets. The voice came from behind a gate between two houses, and when I stepped through it, I was in the Digital World, right in front of the yurt, with Bearmon waiting beside it. The voice told me that it understood my sorrow and wanted to help me with my revenge.”

   A few minutes ago, the girl had wanted to dominate the world but now I could feel nothing but sorry for her. Out of an instinct, I hugged her tightly, and Taki on the other side did the same. Our Digimon came back from their battle, they had evolved to their previous levels.

   When Tamina spotted her former slave she called “Oh Bearmon, I’m so sorry!”, and teared up again.

   Bearmon came towards her to hug her, saying “It’s alright now.”

   Kamemon walked over to me and said “We told Bearmon what happened. It was very understanding.”

   “Thank you for tel-”. Before I could finish the sentence, there was a blast that shook the earth. We flinched, then I peaked over the ledge to discover a huge crater where the hut used to be.

   “That wasn’t us!” Kamemon declared.

   From the crater rose smoke that transformed into tentacles halfway through. “Ah shucks!”, I muttered.

   “Did you really think it was over? What you defeated was merely a puppet, a disposable I would have gotten rid of anytime if the time had come. And the time has come!”

   “That’s it! That’s the voice that called me here. Oh my God!” Tamina wailed, shaking vigorously.

  “Stop it!”, I said firmly. “We need your help now. If we want to win against – well, whatever that is, we need to stand united.”

   Tamina looked frightened at me. “I don’t think I can.”

   I lifted her head gently at the chin to look directly into her eyes. “Listen to me. I’m really sorry what happened to your mom. But the Digimon are not to blame for her death. And neither your vendetta nor your indecision will bring her back. What we need to focus on right now is to save the Digital World, and probably our human world too. I don’t know who’s behind the voice but I’m pretty sure they don’t want to spare us. What Ryudamon over there told me was that the Dark Forces had always aimed for the human world too. It’s the rest of your family who’s in danger now. This is your chance to save them!”

   She stared at me like a hare. Her shaking stopped, she swallowed hard before she nodded. “Okay.”

   “Wonderful.” I briefly hugged her, then pulled her up on her feet.

   We gathered together, back to back, gazing up to the sky. It darkened by the second, the clouds spun faster and faster until some sort of vent had formed. “Prepare for doom!”, the voice thundered.

   Taki grabbed my hand on the left side, Kamemon on the right. “Ready?”, she asked.

   I nodded. “Let’s do this

Gwappamon

Also:

HAPPY ODAIBA DAY!!

Thank you so much for organizing the event @earlgreymon​ and @tangledupblue! It was wonderful to see us Digimon fans reunited again and to share our love for an anime that’s been with us for more than 20 years. 

[lionfloss]

what you experienced as a child in that house is so scary! in a weird way it's nice that at least you didn't experience it alone i don't know what i would have done if i were the only one seeing/hearing things. i did experience some weird things in an old apartment i lived in briefly with my mom and stepdad when i was 9 but it was just cliche unoriginal little happenings like i had this old stereo system (don't know what else to call it lol) and it would turn on by itself always full volume also i usually kept up to 3 cds in it and you'd hear them revolving as if someone was selecting which one to play and then it would blast full volume all while i was in the room or downstairs. eventually, everyone in the home experienced this separately alone then it became a common occurrence that went from creepy to annoying so we got rid of it lmao so that stopped. see it was a 2 bedroom apartment with old creaky stairs and my room was the only one upstairs so i'd always hear someone coming up only to not ever see anyone. i'd get up and stand at the top to see who was coming but it was no one. this would happen all the time too it was a small apartment so you could hear it in the kitchen, dining and living room. the stereo and stairs scared me so much at first that i was too scared to sleep alone so my mom began to stay with me eventually she told me that between 1 and 5 am she'd hear what sounded like someone was jumping their way up or down the stairs, the sound would wake her up while i slept through it. another thing was the door that led to the laundry room well the handle would rattle as if someone was trying to force it open but that only happened rarely. this intense heavy negative energy or presence could be felt in my room which my mom also said she always felt. my stepdad wasn't afraid but he also would hear everything my mom and i would hear. i don't know if i believe in ghosts but we have no way of explaining any of that. maybe it was just the floors settling but maybe not? lol so fast forward to now. i'm 23 moved out of my mom's house (i didn't grow up in this home) i visited her not too long ago and she told me about how she heard a male voice that sounds exactly like a friend of hers (still alive) call her name right in her ear. this has happened twice. she's seen a shadowy figure walk right past her in the hallway that leads to the garage and her boyfriend also has heard multiple indistinct voices at once coming from the hall right outside the bedroom (she has not heard this herself) the only thing i experienced at her house while visiting i was playing the piano and the keys in the higher register played at random while i was playing like as if someone came up and slammed their hand on the keys but i didn't think much of it at the time it's strange bc other than what would happen in that apartment i never experienced anything like that ever again yet my mom has continued to over the years. it's so weird. sorry for the long message just wanted to share that since i never talk about it but what do you think could explain all of that?

omg that all sounds so scary!!! honestly hearing stairs creak or really obvious walking sounds and then seeing no one is terrifying! like you get used to the sound when you walk up/down them so you know its not just "an old building" or whatever. There could just be a family of spirits lingering around, maybe they used to live there. It's very scary but also so fascinating at the same time. There are always "logical" explanations i guess, but i think part of the intrigue is being able to decide for yourself what you think it was. Could also try to look into the buildings history!

[sasuhinasno1fan]

You see the real me

Hey @komorebirei, I’m your @lukadrien-winter gifter! Before we got our assignments, I had been rereading a lot of Sarah Dessen and Meg Cabot books, so this is kinda based on Sarah Dessen’s book Just Listen. If you have read it, don’t worry, I made sure it didn’t have any of your triggers in it. I hope you like it. I based it off one of my favourite scenes from the book. Mentions of ‘the cult’ and Nathan are from Divergance by @depressed-teacup-inc and @sarcasticsparkles (TwiglightMaster15). Hope you enjoy!

Clara Nightingale played from the speakers of Adrien’s computer as he dialled the number for the radio station.

“MIRC Radio.”

“I wasn’t at the mall to see Clara Nightingale; I actually know her,” Adrien defended. He then realised Luka would just use it as an excuse to tease him more.

“That doesn’t exactly clear you of being there,” Luka said. God, he walked right into that one.

“I had a meeting for the fashion show? I’m surprised Rose didn’t tell you.”

“She was more focused on seeing you and getting all that stuff from the swimsuit store. Also, why is Paris’ biggest model doing a fashion show at a mall?”

“You mean, the biggest mall in Paris that holds a total of 30 different stores that sell my father’s clothes? Kinda don’t have a choice.”

“Woo of being a model. Any chance you get to choose what you eat?”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “Lunch on Friday was a bag of chips. What do you think?”

“Fair enough. Come get breakfast with me. It’s a tradition after every radio show. Nathan’s paying.”

Adrien thought of the red-haired bundle of energy. “Sure.”

“We’ll be at your house in 20. See you then.”

Adrien hung up and closed the webpage that had the radio’s website on it. Usually, he would sleep in on weekends, unless he had any photoshoots. But like many things that changed after the summer, waking up to listen to the radio was a new thing. All Adrien wanted was to get through school without any issues. Not that a certain person would make that easy. And of course because he made stupid decisions that pushed away any friends he could have had, Adrien was alone. It was like when he started school again.

Then…Luka. After a confrontation he’d rather not relive, Luka came to check on him. Even after seeing him hide in the boy’s room and actually get sick, he was there with tissues and water, asking if he was ok. It had been so strange then. To everyone, Luka was the weirdly silent kid who hung out with a ‘cult’, but would apparently beat up anyone who looked at him wrong. Adrien still remembered when one of the seniors had tried lording over him. Luka dropped his guitar case, punched the guy in the face and then walked off. He should have been terrifying. But like people started to believe the rumors following Adrien about him, he realised he had been the same for Luka. Luka was just a guy so in love with music and had trouble expressing himself without it, so he’d done it with his fists. But Anger Management had helped and now he actually had words and Adrien just couldn’t help but feel stable around him. 

Everything else in his life was going crazy. The rumors, the actual truth behind said rumors, Felix and issues with his mom and Adrien’s father, his loneliness because he couldn’t just talk to the people he’d been friends with for so long, the pressures of still doing modelling, everything. Luka made sense and even with his incredibly odd taste for music and odd sayings pulled from Anger Management classes, Adrien felt happy. Of course the crush that was growing might have also added things. He tried ignoring it, and maybe ignoring Luka, but the idea of losing him wasn’t something he wanted, so he accepted it. Whether or not he’d act on it was the question, but who knew.

The mansion was quiet. His parents were still out of town, Felix was no doubt still asleep and Nathalie never got up before coffee was made. He did find Gorilla in the kitchen doing just that though.

“Hey, I’m going out for breakfast. A friend is picking me up,” he told the towering silent man, who nodded after miming at him to have his phone.

He walked outside, already finding two motorcycles sitting outside the gate. Luka had his spare helmet waiting for him, his own visor pushed up.

“Question, how do you feel about bacon?”

“Bacon?”

“You know, pork product? Smells amazing? Best part of breakfast?”

“I mean, it’s not usually one of my list of things I can eat, but I guess I can deal.”

“Excellent, get on.”

Adrien had gotten very used to Luka’s very fast driving and before he knew it, they were pulling up to a large restaurant. Nathan was bouncing in place waiting for Adrien and Luka to get off the bike before he darted off to the front door. The restraint was modelled after an American diner and it was freezing inside.

“Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot to mention how cold they have it in here,” Luka said, pulling off his jacket, which Adrien tried to wave off. “Trust me. They keep it cold in here so you don’t stay all day.”

He took the jacket, taking in how warm it was. Luka’s scent wafted up, almost covering up the heavy smell of bacon inside the restaurant.

“Why does it smell like a meat store in here?” Adrien asked, sitting next to Luka.

“Well this place has always been the place we get breakfast from after the radio show. Ever since the first one. But they got a competitor not too long ago,” Nathan started to explain.

“With crap pancakes and service.” Luka interrupted.

“Yes. So to counteract it, they made every day double bacon day. Whatever you order, you get a double order of bacon.”

“Which he of course has to pay for.”

Nathan pouted. “You try asking for what I want.”

“I have.” Noticing Adrien’s confused face, he explained. “We’ve got a friend who makes D&D characters and she designs all of ours. Nathan here has a specific look he wants but he thinks it’s too embarrassing to ask for. I told him if he asked, I’d pay for breakfast forever. If he doesn’t, then he will. We’ve had two redesigns in the past year or so and he’s still chickened out.”

Nathan stuck his tongue out like a child. “Leave me alone.”

Adrien shook his head. This was his life now, with a music loving former rebel and an overactive redhead. This he would gladly deal with.

While the others ordered large platters, Adrien played it safe with a waffle and bacon, though Luka let him steal some of his eggs. Funnily enough, if Nathan tried, he’d get a slap on the back of the hand. He tried not to preen at the special attention.

Nathan had to head to work, so it was just the two of them as they drove back towards Agreste Mansion. It was still quiet in the streets and it seemed like there was no movement in the house.

“Thanks for breakfast.”

“No problem. If I had known playing pop songs would get your attention, I would have done it sooner.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “No you wouldn’t.”

“Ok no cause I hate that music but still. You said you won’t be at school on Monday, right?”

“Yeah, it’s the only time an outfit fitting could be scheduled. So Tuesday then?”

“Tuesday. I’ll see you later.”

Adrien had already entered through the gates when he realised that he was still wearing Luka’s jacket. He turned to try and give it back, but Luka had already sped off. Adrien started to pull it off anyway as he made his way through the door when he felt something in the coat hit against his leg. Inside one of the pockets was Luka’s iPod. His pride and joy. Adrien couldn’t remember a time when Luka didn’t have it on him. 

That first day of school, when Adrien avoided the lunch room or any of the lunch benches out on the quad, he sat next to Luka against a wall. He had his earphones in, eyes focused on a book. Adrien still didn’t know him then. If he’d been told at that time that Luka Couffaine would become his rock, his best friend, his, well, crush, he would have thought that person was insane. But here he was.

Felix was leaving the dining room when he went inside, looking surprised to see Adrien.

“When did you leave?”

“Early this morning. I got breakfast with a friend.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “Same one who delivered that pizza before?”

One of Luka’s jobs was as a delivery person for a local pizza place. When Adrien had tried listening to one of Luka’s many made CDs for him – so he could be educated on the right type of music – and fallen asleep, it led to Felix meeting Luka for the first time. Adrien hadn’t been looking for it but it sounded like Felix approved and that gave him a feeling of happiness.

“Maybe.”

Felix let out a hum before heading to the stairs. He was happy he didn’t say anything more. Adrien wasn’t sure what he’d say anyway.

He collapsed onto his bed, ready to fall asleep again. He couldn’t though, because of a certain item. Luka’s iPod. He was never seen without it. Luka said the silence made him itch, like everything was too much to handle. So the thing that helped him was never far out of reach. It turned on, still a half full battery available. There were many playlists, the names making no sense, but one caught his attention.

ADRIEN

He knew sneaking around on it wasn’t the best idea but…he couldn’t help himself. He pressed the center button and the list of songs that appeared where a mash of a lot of things. Things that looked very familiar. Because they were all the songs he and Luka ever talked about. Luka had a playlist of all the songs they talked about and it was a lot.

He wanted to know if the way he felt was the same. If he was making things up or wishing too hard. He wanted answers. It took all of his energy to not go running after Luka and asking. He fell asleep after several minutes of slowly scrolling through the list of songs Luka had under his name.

                                                 _______________

Adrien climbed out of the car, watching as Gorilla pulled out his phone. He meant to leave the house earlier. He distracted himself with homework before he went to ask Gorilla to take him to Luka’s house, when he was interrupted by a mighty crash from the kitchen. Felix was attempting to cook. Adrien stayed back to help and eat with him before he left.

He crossed the gangplank onto the deck of the house boat. The deck was empty, though there seemed to be music playing in the area above. He didn’t remember the whole look of it from the last time he was here, but he was sure that was a sitting area. He knocked on the door below the deck, which swung open. Rose, Luka’s sister’s girlfriend, let out a shriek when she saw who was standing on the other side.

“Adrien! What are you doing here?”

“Is that Adrien Agreste?” A girl with dreadlocks, some strands of different colours, looked at him in awe. There was another girl with red hair and glasses and another with a baseball cap and Juleka. They were all staring at him.

“Adrien is my friend! Oh, come in!” He was yanked inside where music seemed to be echoing on the walls and the living room was a mess. “We’re having a fashion show sleepover. You have to stay and help us with our looks.”

“Oh, well, you see.”

“Rose, are you ready yet? I have…” Luka walked in with a DSLR camera around his neck. “A show to plan? Adrien, what are you doing here?”

“He’s here to help us with our looks.” Rose said, pulling Adrien further into the house. He sent a pleading look to Luka who shrugged. He had a feeling that telling Rose ‘no’ was a hard thing. He was dragged to Juleka’s room, though Luka’s was separated with a curtain that was currently pushed back. Juleka’s taste in decorating was darker than her brother’s, but a lot of things seemed to be similar, such as the guitar and bass sitting in their stands and the posters of Jagged Stone. Some pictures didn’t really fit Juleka’s theme. Pictures of models, both male and female.

“Look, these are you.” Pictures from his father’s brand, from cologne ads, from sporting wear, even from that department store ad, with the tux for the dance, the perfect outfit and hair after fencing, the perfect outfit to study in the library. “I loved that ad so much and its story. You were so cool. You were like…”

“The guy who had everything.”

“Exactly!”

“Rose, come on. I have a show to plan. Are we going to do this or not?” Luka said, finally pulling her attention away.

“Alright, alright. Who has the order lists?” 

The girls started to leave the area, but not before the one in the baseball cap turned and quickly slapped the back of Luka’s butt, causing them all to burst into laughter as he let out a startled yelp. They quickly disappeared when he turned to glare at them. Adrien couldn’t help but stifle his laughter. It had been a high pitch squeak.

“Not a word out of you,” Luka ordered upon seeing him laugh.

“Course not. Here, I wanted to give this back to you,” he said, handing over the jacket.

“Oh, I could have waited until Tuesday to get this.”

“I know. I’m just sure you couldn’t wait for this.” He pulled out Luka’s iPod from one of the pockets, watching his face light up.

“Oh I would so miss this! Thank you.”

“I had a feeling you’d flip all of Paris to try and find it.”

“Very true. So what commercial was Rose talking about?”

Adrien pointed to the pictures from the different scenes of the ad. “It was from the department store for their back to school campaign. I’m the guy who has everything. Don’t feel like it though.”

“Doesn’t really look like you.”

Adrien looked over at him feeling a little insulted. “You don’t have to like it.”

“No, I mean, I’m looking at it and I see this picture-perfect person and think, ‘that’s not my Adrien’. It just doesn’t look like the real you.”

Before Adrien could ask him who the real Adrien was, Rose called from what sounded like above deck. Luka looked pained as he turned, heading towards the stairs.

“This is gonna end in tears. Just you watch.”

It took a while but it turned out Luka was right. Adrien had been in his corner of the sitting area on the deck above surrounded by mountains of makeup when one of the girls, Mylène, burst into tears.

“I don’t want to do this outfit anymore! I’m always in this one.” It was a beachy outfit; which Adrien guessed her dreads played a part in. Everyone else had changed a good number of times, but Mylène always seemed to be in different versions of the same outfit.

He quickly swooped in and took Mylène downstairs. She directed him to the clothes she brought over and it took a bit of prodding to find an outfit. He sent her off to the bathroom while he rooted through the pile of shoes to find a pair that would fit her. He looked up to see Luka leaning against the post that acted as the centre between his and Juleka’s rooms.

“You’re good at this,” he said, smiling down at Adrien.

“Modelling does lead to tears. Just find something to distract them and give them lots of chocolate after. Works every time.” Adrien finally found the shoes he wanted and stood up to see Luka pointing the camera at him. Covering his face with his hand, he said, “No. I don’t like having my picture taken.”

“But you’re one of Paris’ biggest models.”

“I know. Trust me, getting cameras shoved in your face is not as glamorous as it seems.”

“Oh, come on. Let me at least show you what I see.”

Remembering what Luka had said earlier about the ad pictures not looking like ‘his Adrien’, he brought his hand down and relaxed his body. He felt the smallest smile come to his face as Luka brought the camera back up and clicked the shutter. He walked over, leaning close to Luka as he brought the picture up. The lighting wasn’t the greatest and in the mess of helping Rose, his hair and clothes were a bit messy, but…he understood what Luka was saying.

“This is the real you,” Luka said, his words just brushing Adrien’s cheek, that’s how close they were. “This is my Adrien.”

My Adrien. It wasn’t weirdly possessive. It was comforting and with every insane thing that was happening in his life, to be picked by someone just for being himself, that made his heart happy. 

Maybe that’s why when he looked up and saw Luka staring at him, eyes moving down to his lips, he kissed him. He felt Luka kiss back. Adrien wanted to grab hold of him because the kiss made him feel weak in the knees, it felt that good, but unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

“How do I look?”

The two sprang apart, Luka hitting his head on the post. Mylène looked worried and a bit confused, but thankfully it looked like she hadn’t seen.

“Are you ok?” she asked.

“Luka! We’re ready for group shots!” Rose called from above deck.

“He’s all good. Here, put them on quickly,” Adrien said, handing her the shoes and pushing her towards the stairs. He could tell she was confused, but thankfully she didn’t ask.

They didn’t get a chance to be alone until the photoshoot was done and Luka had gotten the call that his mom would be home soon and the house was a mess. Luka walked Adrien to the gangplank, still waving off his offers to help clean up.

“Don’t worry about it. The girls will take care of most of it. Thanks again for bringing my iPod.”

“Of course.” Adrien hesitated, wanting to ask if the kiss was a fluke or if it was real when he realised Luka was moving closer to him, gently pulling his fidgeting fingers apart and linking them with his own.

“This ok?”

“Yeah. Perfect.”

Luka was leaning down and Adrien started to go up on his toes when they heard Rose. She came bounding over with pictures in her hand. The one that Luka took of him was on top.

“Here, so you can decorate your wall.”

When she finally went back below deck, Adrien gave Luka the picture he took of him. “That way you always remember what I look like. I might be coming to school in a few makeup looks next week.”

“Bet you’ll still look amazing as usual. I’m very tempted to test my luck a third time, but I can wait. Would you be ok if I came and picked you up on Tuesday?”

Adrien nodded, taking everything in him not to pull Luka in for a kiss, no matter who was watching.

“Awesome. I’ll see you then.”

Adrien had to bite down his smile when he eventually pulled himself away and got into the car. Kissing his rock should make him afraid of messing things up, but how could he when everything felt so right? And if Luka came to get him for school on Tuesday morning and Adrien noticed that his lanyard that had his student ID on it also had the picture of Adrien, well. How was he supposed to argue with that?