#with the windows down and a cd on real loud

[whoa-where-did-the-pancakes-go]

My parents got a new car and I honestly can't stand it. There are no buttons and dials and switches. There's no cd player and no radio either. Everything's digital and screens and Bluetooth. There isn't even a key to turn, it's all wireless and touchless and awful. I miss my dad's rusty blue pickup truck with its cd player and visible ventilation and falling down ceiling and all the dials and knobs and switches and buttons and DIALS!! DIALS!!!!

[divineei]

modern!atwow x musician!reader

modern avatar mlist!

desc. headcanons for modern avatar: the way of water teens with a musician significant other who’s in a band. reader plays a different instrument for each character.

a/n. if this flops i’m retiring. real shit.

— neteyam. ( guitarist s/o ♪! )

he sleeps with a t-shirt of your band every. goddamn. night.

gives it back to you once a week so you can spray your perfume on it. you ended up bringing him a bottle of ur fave brand and he sprays the cologne on it every time he washes it (aka ever fucking week)

mans hooked. to both you and your music

listens to your band’s songs at least once a day. either w/ headphones or on full blast it doesn’t matter

his whole family knows all the lyrics

sometimes tuk comes to his room and jumps on his bed while playing air guitar and he absolutely joins

other times tho he closes his eyes to focus and pays special attention to the guitar while having your smile in mind

he once spent like 2 weeks watching youtube tutorials to (kinda) learn one song so he could play for you

was it good? no it was fucking hideous. was it the sweetest fucking thing ever tho? absolutely it was

always tries to pick you up after band practice

my boy would rather miss his basketball competitions than miss one of your concerts

this one time he actually tried to skip a match bc your performance was at the same time and the mf showed up backstage like “hEy🙂”

you had to call his mom for him to leave (u snitch that was kinda foul)

definitely knows abt “the rockstar’s girlfriend” aesthetic and makes it his personality. like he’s so into it

you got him a t-shirt that said “im with the band” as a joke but he actually wears it and its hilarious

— kiri. ( keyboard s/o ♪! )

comes to your house just to hear you play

she brings a book and lays down on your bed while you make new music

ADORES watching you come up with new tunes!!!!!!

you always have that focused look on your face as you move your fingers over the keys at makes her want to take a picture (she actually has a few ngl)

always goes back home humming your new melody

you record covers of her favorite songs on your keyboard and give her a cd that she listens to on her discman (she defo owns old gadgets like that)

sometimes puts her phone down on her window stool, where she has her favorite plants, and leaves it there with your music playing. she likes to think it help her plants grow

lowkey gatekeeps your songs

there was this one time you couldn’t sleep bc she kept appearing on your mind, so you connected your headphones and made your “ode to kiri”

it was 2am when you vídeocalled her to play for her what you just wrote

and kiri being the sensitive person she is, swore she could feel your affection through the music, little tears threatening to fall from her pretty eyes

it was truly a treasured memory in your relationship

until a loud ass knock on your door and an equally loud “FFS ITS 2AM!!!!!” almost made you drop dead

she absolutely laughed at you btw

— lo’ak. ( bassist s/o ♪! )

brings you stickers so you can decorate your bass w/ them

“aye babe i got a new sticker for your guitar” “for the hundredth time lo’ak, its a BASS!!!”

yeah he knows it annoys you and no he’s not gonna stop

his lockscreen is a picture of you on stage with a bunch of lil hearts he drew around you

when he goes to your concerts he tells everyone you two are dating

“you see that one over there bro? pfft yeah, we’re together” “do i know you man????” 💀

when you told him your band didnt have a logo yet he showed up at your door 3 days after, super excited and with a bunch of sketches to show you

i also think lo’ak would be really into graffiti art

so he goes around the neighborhood spray painting your band’s logo on the streets walls

“lo’ak you’re gonna get us in trouble” “oh cmon, its good promo!!”

he messes up with your amplifier when you practice, turning up and down the volume, the treble, etc. until you throw your pick right into his fucking forehead and he’s like:

“ma fault 😨”

the moment he (finally) sits still he actually pays really close attention to how your hands move

“damn, you make it look so easy” “im just good with my fingers ig”

cue the dumbest smirk you’ve ever seen

— ao’nung. ( drummer s/o ♪! )

imma just say it; he is popular. by that i mean ma boy has hella contacts

AND by that i mean he makes sure your band always has a venue to perform at. always first on every list fr

“ao’ stay the fuck away from my drums”

actually a fucking menace. tries to impress you by smashing the drumsticks everywhere.

“nah babe check me out i got it this time srsly”

rhythm left the room the moment he sat down

he even attempts some tricks he seen you pull off during your concerts, like throwing the sticks up or rolling them between his fingers.

they always end up either on the floor or hitting his dumbass head. it’s cool tho, u kiss it better (after a well deserved smack bc what did i tell u)

he’d still insist on learning so you two end up having a chick flick moment where you guide him by putting your hands on his

boy actually blushes. just a smidge

“your ears are red” “stfu no they’re not”

might not know shit abt making music but seeing the look on your face when you play is enough to make him see how passionate you are

loves being alone with you in your band’s backstage lounge

he’s so fucking extra he got his friend outside the door like some whack ass bodyguards. they’re so into it too bro

“aye keep walking man🕴️” “move along bitch aint nothing to see here🕴️”

whenever you’re about to go on stage he stays with you in your band’s room and massages your hands

makes sure you always put some baby powder on your palms before you perform in case you start sweating so you dont drop your drumsticks

— tsireya. ( vocalist s/o ♪! )

she sings along to your songs whenever they play

ao’nung is sick and tired of listening to her and uses ear plugs all the time bc he once told her to stfu and got smacked

you two even make your own carpool karaoke and scream the lyrics together on the parking lot

and she NAILS IT!!!!!

like my girl can sing fr

in fact you’ve asked her to help in a few songs for harmonies and second voices

she helps you out a lot with your vocal practice and your breathing exercises

she sits down with you and counts each second with her fingers when hold your breath and when you try your best to hold a specific note

let’s be honest here. A LOT of your songs are abt her

you really don’t have to tell her, she knows they are. bc when you’re up on stage singing abt the perfect girl, you look right at her. and her heart beats faster every time

sometimes you send her your lyrics like “what do u think of this??” and it’d be a full on poem abt her that makes her smile so goofy. kicking feet and everything

every time you get in the shower and start humming/singing her phone is ready

actually has a video of you freaking tf out bc you had an idea for a new song while showering and you stormed your way out the bathroom, wet and hair full off shampoo

“REYA PASS ME A PEN QUICK” “NAH WHY ARE YOU BOOTY NAKED PLEASEHAhH”

you had to mop the floor after that

— rotxo. ( acoustic guitarist s/o ♪! )

makes sure you are never out of strings to change

but since the strings are heavier from an electric guitar, he knows you sometimes hurt your fingers playing

so he bought you a bunch of finger protectors.

he’s a sweetheart, but those whack ass things he got you looked like this

yeaaah…. no. 💀

actually offensive he’d think you need that shit but you let it go bc he really just wanna be there for you

the actual definition of #1 fan

he’s on every concert

and i mean EVERY. CONCERT. front row, backstage, glowing sticks on one hand, phone on the other and zooming on you and only you

he goes to your house more than you go to his, just bc he always wants you to play smthn. and this way you dont gotta bring your guitar back and forth

when you’re together in your room, you get your guitar and he asks you to play some lofi style tunes

especially loves it when it’s summer and the both of you just lay down with the windows wide open and the breeze goes in and out. has a cool glass of your fave drink with a straw and he holds it up to you while you play

one thing ik for sure is rotxo is lowkey good at making beats/bases

the two of you have definitely made a few tracks purely for your enjoyment (like this)

many many many beach dates where you bring your guitar and he lays his head on your lap while the sun sets

taglist. — @rainbowsocks, @dearstell, @erenjaegerwifee, @neteyamyam, @lvrcpid, @grierpilots, @littlexscarletxwitch, @elegantkidfansoul, @anm3mi, @kachowness, @boilingpots , @lagoonabluebabe, @lethalvenus, @casiia, @liluvtojineteyam, @inluvwithneteyam, @syulangg, @junnniiieee07, @drugs-for-memes, @ilovejakesullysdick, @lovelyygirl8, @neqeyam, @ak-aaa-li, @sakura-onesan, @babyymeme, @gender3nvyy,

© to @divineei on tumblr; do not repost or steal

[chiarrara]

the authentic 2011 indie kid playlist

"real 2011 pandora radio recreation: the songs that always played on my hypercurated matt and kim radio, is this it radio, and pumped up kicks radio a.k.a. the authentic 2009-2012 indie kid playlist (ft. my actual authentic 2011 facebook profile pic)"

including full liner notes (typed out below the cut for readability):

- for @justrustandstardust <3

Daylight - Matt and Kim: one of the most iconic songs of my teenage years. I feel like me and Michael based our life off this song. Matt and Kim is one of the bases for the radio stations I picked for this playlist (the ones I listened to constantly). There will be more Matt and Kim on this playlist, but not enough. You really should listen to this whole album (this will not be the last time I say this)

Kids - MGMT: everyone knows electric feel. I picked the underrated classics I was obsessed with after I loved electric feel

Home - Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros: a staple. so silly, but so iconic

Midnight City - M83: the first of the songs that I only listened to on Pandora & never learned the names/artists. also, became car commercial songs. banger

Is This It - The Strokes: you simply must listen to this album. half of it is on the playlist, but still you must. This album is the second base of a radio station.

Automatic Stop - The Strokes: listen, there's gonna be a lot of Strokes on this playlist. I fell in love with them listening to this radio station.

Rawnald Gregory Erickson the Second - STRFKR: the second of the Pandora exclusives. why is it named that? so iconin

Float On - Modest Mouse: as classic as classics get

Hard to Explain - The Strokes: I found this album at the library and picked it up based on the album art alone. this was back when I got all my music from the library & burned cds onto my computer to make mix cds, listen in windows media player, or upload to my ipod nano

Flourescent Adolescent - Arctic Monkeys: we're in the pre "AM" era! their back catalog is so fucking good, and this is one of the best examples of that. I love this song

Soma - The Strokes: it's gonna be a lot of Strokes. trust me, it's authentic to the experience

Take Me Out - Franz Ferdinand: ICONIC BANGER.

Breezeblocks - alt-J: (so groovy) another Pandora exclusive. mainstay on the channel. like these songs would play every 30 mins & I loved it

Song For No One - Miike Snow: ah! Miike Snow my beloved! never listened outside of Pandora for some reason but SO iconic. they were so popular

Loud Pipes - Ratatat: the beat just gets into your body with these ones

Shut Up and Let Me Go - The Ting Tings: Icons! defined the era. watch the music video.

1901 - Phoenix: we played this and the next Phoenix song so. fucking. much. goin hey hey hey hey hey hey hey!

40 Day Dream - Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros: when you thought of indie, this is what you thought of

Skinny Love - Bon Iver: jk jk this is what you thought of. This was hipster before it got picked up by Hot Topic

Good Ol' Fashion Nightmare - Matt and Kim: full volume, windows down, 100 mph screaming <3 (I love this song sm)

Intro - The xx: another Pandora exclusive car commercial song but listen, I was obsessed. hearing these songs again is like waking up dormant genes

Lisztomainia - Phoenix: this song and 1901 are a bonded pair. do not separate.

Lessons Learned - Matt and Kim: it was so impossible to pick from this album it's all so good. let it turn your love into a coming of age movie

Sleeping Lessons - The Shins: The SHINS bro THE SHINS. every indie movie had the Shins on their soundtrack. They're so good.

Here (In Your Arms) - Hellogoodbye: listen I didn't want to pick their most popular song but it's so definitive I had to. I saw them live like 4 times. This album is so important to me. All my love songs for my 13 yr old relationship came from this album

Crystalised - The xx: not a listening session would go by that I wouldn't hear this song

All My Friends - LCD Sound System: he's so good

Oxford Comma - Vampire Weekend: THIS ALBUM IS SUMMER 2011. it was one of 2 or 3 go to CDs in my first car. I listened to it over and over and over again. it always brings me back to my ugly brown 2001 Chevy Malibu outside Michael's house, or driving down to the lake. I seriously couldn't pick songs from this album it's all one big song to me. formative. what else can i say.

Time to Pretend - MGMT: I'm feeling rough I'm feeling wrong in the time of my life. underrated classic

Cough Syrup - Young the Giant: a late addition but I know every word

Two Weeks - Grizzly Bear: THE Pandora radio song. I would listen just to hear this song eventually

We Used to Vacation - Cold War Kids: One of my favorite bands ever. Their first two albums were on repeat. This song is my favorite. It just rips something out of me

Rhinemaidens - The Envy Corps: The Envy Corps have made their entrance! I've seen them more than Hellogoodbye. The epitomal hipsters. and some of the best music of all time. They're absolutely foundational. (listen to the album!)

Pumped Up Kicks - Foster the People: The third and final base for a radio station is this song. That's how much I listened to it. One of those songs that just got into my bones. Forever favorite song it never gets old. also, listen to the album. so good

Animal - Miike Snow: the Miike Snow song. One of the first songs I ever discovered on Pandora <3

Young Folks - Peter Bjorn and John: iconic. I don't know what to say

The High Road - Broken Bells: Michael was on the hs radio station senior year & he played this whole EP straight one day

Call It What You Want - Foster the People: BANGER ("what's your style and who do you listen to" WHO CARES <3)

Walking On A Dream - Empire Of The Sun: I did not know the name of this song or the band or even recognize the cover art but I know this song. They put them in car commercials because they're good

What You Know - Two Door Cinema Club: this and the other two door cinema club song came up all the time. bops.

A-Punk - Vampire Weekend: (ay! ay! ay! ay!) most iconic riff of all time! can't understand a damn word but I was screaming them anyway (100mph)

Rill Rill - Sleigh Bells: (Pandora Exclusive!) iconic! can't help but groove to this song. the mood of this song is so representative of this lane of music

Something Good Can Work - Two Door Cinema Club: the opening to this song gets me so hype! I know you'll like this song

Dragon Queen - Yeah Yeah Yeahs: you know Heads Will Roll but did you know this underrated banger? they're awesome, their other songs should get more attention

Don't Slow Down - Matt and Kim: 100mph dancing like a maniac lol look I should not have been allowed behind the wheel of a car. Don't slow down (listen to the album!)

All I Want - LCD Sound System: he's just really good idk

That's Not My Name - The Ting Tings: we were obsessed with them. this song was everywhere

Story Problem - The Envy Corps: for the longest time I didn't know any names to Envy Corps songs because I mostly listened to them live, on a mix cd, or someone else was playing them. so i always got surprised by each song like, oh! I love this one! to be honest I still don't know the titles lol but every song is so damn iconic. at the concerts they would split the audience in half and have half of us do the "dada dada dadada da da da" part and the other half do the "oooooh wa oh wa oh" so you were singing your part throught the end of the song while they played. it was so magical <3

All Time Lows - Hellogoodbye: underrated banger. this album is like the definitive electronic indie sound of the mid-aughts

Somebody Told Me - The Killers: incredible song, incredible band. mainstay. they're so much more than Mr. Brightside

(starting the list over bc of tumblr's character limits. add 50)

Reptilia - The Strokes

Someday - The Strokes

Under Cover of Darkness - The Strokes: listen, this is accurate to how often they would play on that station. just Strokes back to back. and I loved it. their discography is just that deep. they don't miss.

Fell In Love With a Girl - The White Stripes: had to get some Whte Stripes in here. had to.

New Slang - The Shins: this song and Caring Is Creepy just, so iconic. they're so good

The World At Large - Modest Mouse: gonna float on maybe would you understand. ah ah ah ah ah ah aah (dashboard by modest mouse should also be on here but i couldn't find a spot for it :( played all the time) my thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth <3<3<3

Black Balloon - The Kills: does anyone remember the kills? I wanted to be them so bad. this was the era of iconic indie duos (ting tings, matt & kim, white stripes, she & him...)

When Did Your Heart Go Missing - Rooney: one hit wonders, my beloved

I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You - Black Kids: I'm convinced no one listened to this song but us. that's not true, and thank god cuase it's such a bop but we felt like we were in on a secret or something. the true 2010 hipster experience lol

Kid Gloves - The Envy Corps: I would literally put this song on a t work and walk around like I was a manic pixie dream girl in an indie movie. unironically amazing song tho (listen to the ep)

Henrietta - The Fratellis: there should have been four more of their songs on here. broke my heart to cut them

Phantom Limb - The Shins: I don't think I've said listen to the album on this one yet. the way this song just vibrates in you

Naive - The Kooks: another underrepresented band. She Moves In Her Own Way, Ooh La, Seaside!? all staples. I mean... if you need another album to listen to... im just sayin

Finer Feelings - Spoon: a bop. fun song <3

Mardy Bum - Arctic Monkeys: this was my first Arctic Monkeys song <3<3<3 forever. the coda is everything. god I love this song

Such Great Heights - Iron & Wine: listen, the original song by The Postal Service is so so so good and we listened to it just as much as this cover. this cover had us in a chokehold. go listen to the original tho. and the whole Postal Service album I promise it's so fundamental

Janglin - Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros: the last of the three iconic ES&TMZs songs. This is like the progenitor of Stomp Clap corporate indie. everyone wanted to be them

Tighten Up - The Black Keys: the opening base notes on this song make me go feral. there should be way more Black Keys on here but if you have to pick one this is an easy choice.

Last Nite - The Strokes: the most iconic Strokes song. try not to scraem the first words. you can't. Last Night!

Australia - The Shins: time to put ear covers on! just makes me smile :)

All These Things That I've Done - The Killers: got us screaming "I've got soul but I'm not a soldier" (are we human or are we dancers is also the killers. icons of the era)

Two Weeks In Hawaii - Hellogoodbye: I felt so bad when your mom caught us eating ice cream in your room at three in the morning. the best parts of my adolescence consolidated in this incredible song. the first of this type of album closing song to deeply affect me (followed by only in dreams by weezer in college). coming back to this album was part of me coming out of my depression last summer. my inner child just lives here, and I love her so much <3

A Certain Romance - Artctic Monkeys: I don't know, this song just gives me warm feelings. I know every shape of this song. I'm pretty sure it's about how America is a cultural wasteland lol. over there there's friends of mine, what can I say I've known em for a long long time, and it might over step the line, but you just cannot get angry in the same way, no not in the same way.

Daylight Outro (Remix) - Matt and Kim: back where we started. thx for listening <3

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Mordent

Chapter Eighteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam, Billie

Word Count: 2880ish

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, this turned into more of a brother chapter than I originally intended, talk of tattoos and body mods, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Dean walked out of the studio with a cassette recording of their album, a CD and a thumb drive. He always asked for it to be playable in the impala and Ash always came through. The other options were for Bobby and Sam, respectively. Sam would send the files to everyone else. It was finished, set to be released while they were on tour, with the label’s stamp of approval and all. ‘Waysides and Regrets’ was thirteen songs packed with everything they could pour into them.

"Don’t call it a comeback,” Dean muttered to himself as he slipped into the driver’s seat and popped the cassette into the deck. The opening to Rupture ripped through the speakers and Dean cackled at hearing it like a civilian. He drummed along with Pam on the steering wheel as he turned out of the parking lot, saluting the guard at the gate as he went. 

He listened to it all before going back home. Rupture bled into Pushing Through which mellowed out to the subdued Brothers Keeper. Then they cranked it back up with Route 666, which slid into the angsty Prophet and Loss that showcased just why Kevin was Cas’ replacement (musically at least). Beyond the Mat and Goodbye Stranger were two sides of the same coin, introspective but in different tones, soulful and combative respectively. Then there was the first single, Annie’s duet, Baby, which Dean unabashedly wrote about his car, but as if she were real and he could thank her and praise her for everything she meant to him. He sang out loud with every word of that song as he cruised faceless side streets letting the music wash over him. 

Everybody Loves A Clown, Except Sam was supposed to be a joke track, but they got carried away with it and it actually was one of the funnest songs to play for Dean, and Kevin going full calliope for the chorus was totally worth it.  Gods and Monsters was fueled by Dean’s inner rage and where his anger came from, also known as John Winchester and his own self worth issues. Missouri had a field day when he sent her those lyrics. Then there was Lee’s track which Dean helped merely tweak some lines, Give Me My Axe: An Executioner’s Song. It was even better with the windows down and the road disappearing beneath his tires. The final track was an anthem, not quite what the kids would call a banger, but celebratory enough to be the potential second single from the album. It’s about the weekend Dean finally came up for air, when Sam holed him up at Bobby’s cabin in Tahoe and they had his come-to-Jesus intervention thing. It’s about letting go and letting your people catch you, aptly named Weekend at Bobby’s. It turned out better than Dean could have hoped.

He turned into the canyon when the bonus tracks started, knowing the album was drawing to a close and wanting Sam to hear it before he got too emotional about it. The house was quiet when he walked in, the coffee still in the pot, but Sam’s rinsed-out smoothie blender upside down in the sink. Dean found Sam outside, despite the cooler air, going through his yoga routine. 

Dean teased Sam about a lot of things, but it held little venom with the things that brought Sam well-being. 

“Hey, mop-head, got the album when you’re ready,” Dean called from the doors off the kitchen.

Sam exhaled and smiled, eyes closed in concentration. Dean didn’t know how he did it, but he understood sometimes other senses just get in the way of an experience, almost like they try to crowd it or consume it because it’s not about them.

“Gimme like ten minutes,” Sam replied and shifted into mountain pose. 

“Fair enough.”

Dean left the thumb drive on the counter and made his way into the living room. They had speakers in their jam room, but Dean hadn’t eaten and lunch was sounding better by the second. So he popped the CD into the stereo and paused it with one of the many remotes they’d accumulated through years of technological upgrades. Sam had an app on his phone for half of it, but Dean still favored physically punching buttons to get what he wanted done.

He made his way back into the kitchen and started pulling things out for BLTs. Sam had some tofu-bacon in the drawer and he fried that up too, and if a little of the real grease got on it, it was too bad for Sam. He grabbed a couple of bags of chips from the pantry and then some leftover fruit salad from the fridge to even them out. Life was about balance after all, and having a health nut for a brother and roommate Dean had learned to pick his battles. 

“Hey, that smells amazing,” Sam broke through Dean’s little self-congratulation.

“Yeah, mine does, yours smells like a nursing home cafeteria—- You ready?” Dean asked, holding up the remote with one hand while popping a chip into his mouth with the other.

“Hit it,” Sam agreed, sitting at the counter as Dean slapped his sandwich down in front of him.

They ate and listened, commenting here and there. Sam helped Dean clean up the kitchen and they both gravitated to the couch to finish listening. Dean took out a bowl he kept in an end table and packed it, smoking casually as Sam took in each song, each transition. 

It was one moment, but it was also a hundred others in the years before it. Brothers sitting in comfortable quiet as music spoke to them instead of one another. They were thirteen and nine and Dad had brought home a signed Lyle Lovett album for them to ingest. While neither of them were yet prone to country, it shifted their ideas of just what good music was. They were fifteen and eleven and done enough chores for a trip to Record Town in North Platte where they each got a tape apiece. Dean got Jar of Flies by Alice in Chains while he convinced Sam to get The Downward Spiral by Nine Inch Nails instead of Tori Amos’ Under the Pink. They read every line of production details and lyrics on the pamphlets tucked into the plastic cases. 

Sam came home to find Dean back for the weekend. It was early ‘98 and it felt like everything had turned horrifyingly pop focused. The Prodigy’s Fat of the Land was playing on the boombox Dean had dragged out of Sam’s room as his big brother cleaned the kitchen back to his standards and not Kate’s livable level of clutter. They were waiting to hear if they had a brother or a sister. The only thing said between them was Dean reassuring Sam that he put his Celine Dion CD back in its case. 

They sat in Lee’s dorm room, stoned and drunk, watching as his roommate's computer uploaded their album. It felt like it would take forever, but it was also insane to think that people all over the world could listen to their music. It was full of possibility, but it was also just two brothers and their friends in their habitat, existing together.

“Dude— did you autotune me?!” Sam gaped, chuckling self consciously while listening to his line of the acoustic track of Brothers Keeper.

“Barely. Like nobody’s gonna notice, they’ll be too busy balling their eyes out,” Dean reassured.

“Yeah, like you, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Sam laughed, but let his embarrassment go; the nervous bastard always hated singing which was why he wasn’t as good at it. 

The album reached its end and they started talking about ideas for the tour, things to write down and beg Charlie for like lighting designs or album specific imagery when they hop back into their older stuff. It was almost four when Dean finally got over to Bobby’s with the CD, but he didn't stay for another listen. He let Annie have her moment with Bobby gushing, as much as the geezer could or would gush.

On the way home, you called him squealing with excitement.

“You listen to it already?”

“No! I just got the files from Sam. I guess I shouldn’t have called until I heard it all, huh?”

Dean chuckled. “Maybe. Or maybe you’ll hate it and never want to talk to me again.”

“Ha-ha. But no, seriously, I’m so excited. I’m going to blast it as I meal prep. Do you want my review long hand or can I just call you back and talk your ear off?”

“Whatever you’re willing to give me,” Dean tried for playful.

“Dangerous, Winchester. Okay, well I have like ten more things I have to do now that we have a single. But I’ll be in touch.”

“Sounds good— and thanks.”

“No— thank you.”

Dean hung up and let the fear roll in. You were going to hear it all. Everything he had been through and everything you had helped him overcome. He only hoped you wouldn’t be upset by making a cameo on something so public. Or embarrassed by the way he still needed you. 

Dean promised he’d be on his best behavior. Part of that was putting out fires for the band, to try and help make your job easier. So after the shake up from Kevin and Cas, he called Billie and apologized for his bandmates’ (both past and present) disrespect. She told him he could make it up to her. But there was no way Dean was going under the needle again, last time he even looked at one he almost threw up. But, it just so happened he knew someone who was in the market for some art. 

Unfortunately, that meant Dean would have to tag along.

Billie’s studio was modern and bright, with different colored walls contrasting the silver accents, both mirrors and shelving. From the outside, Reaping Ink was a small sign on a battered street, but inside it felt like walking into an art gallery and not someplace that had hard sharps containers and enough first aid equipment to stock an ambulance on hand.

And the furniture was always so damn comfortable.

The last time Dean had been here was for a memorial tattoo for Jo that you got on your right shoulder. He nearly broke your hand holding it as he tried and failed not to watch your skin be pierced continuously. It was a beautiful tattoo, everything Billie did was masterful. It just wasn’t something Dean wanted to sit through again.

Luckily for everyone, Bela didn’t need Dean to hold her hand. But she did need him as in with Billie, who usually booked appointments six-to-eight months out. 

“Hello, Dean,” Billie’s dark voice called once they walked in, she stood so still and so silently, he hadn’t even noticed her among the cacophony of color in the waiting area.

“Heya Billie, this is Bela,” Dean guided Bela with a hand on the small of her back, the way Billie’s dark eyes clocked the motion made Dean want to step back. Like a nun catching you standing too close to your crush in the hallway. Dean never went to Catholic school, but that feeling of getting caught, of doing wrong was universal.

“Pleasure,” Bela smiled at the artist, while Billie just nodded.

“I have a couple versions for you to pick from, I think I got the gist of what we talked about, but I wanted to be sure on sizing and layout. So come on back and we’ll get started,” Billie went straight into business mode. No whining about Cas’ impulsiveness or speculating on Dean and Bela’s relationship. At least verbally, her eyes held a very different story.

She had three different stencils already cropped and laid out for Bela to see as Bela rucked up her top and rolled down her leggings. It wasn’t a tramp stamp, she was insistent on that, but it was on the back of her right hip, something she could glance at or hold if she needed to. The way she talked about the position of the tattoo, made it seem just as important as the content or the coloring of it.

“Dean?” Bela’s voice drew Dean out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?” 

“Can you take pictures with my phone? Before, during, and after?” Bela handed him her unlocked iphone and he turned it around to focus on her nearly bare back. He took a few shots and gave it back. 

“You’ll want that to distract you, trust me,” Dean assured.

Bela rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that what you’re here for?”

Dean went green. “As long as I don’t have to watch.”

“Really?!” Bela exclaimed and looked over to Billie for confirmation.

“Mmm-hmm, boys one of the worst I’ve seen around needles. No wonder he doesn’t even have his ears pierced.”

“I guess I never noticed—- wouldn’t have thought. Poor thing,” Bela sighed as she settled on her stomach on one of Billie’s many specialty beds. 

“Can we not? I mean, I’m here ain't I?” Dean huffed and pulled out his own phone. You still hadn’t texted him what you thought about the album, but he also knew you were busy, so he didn’t want to rush you or look too desperate.

He felt Bela and Billie have a silent conversation as he pulled up his sudoku app, but ignored them as Billie got the stencil in place, only getting up to snap another picture. Then, they were off. Bela and Billie making small talk about the design, which Dean knew Bela had put a lot of thought into, especially since it would officially tarnish her good girl image. Even in this day and age, most of her fans were in their fifties. A tattoo could rattle the masses. But getting one with Dean seemed like a good compromise of their images.

He was rubbing off on her, so to speak. Well, he hadn’t done that literally since his talk with Sam, but you know.

They sat for an hour and a half and took a break, Dean went to get food and coffee, which he left in the lobby so as not to infringe on Billie’s strict rules. Dean took a couple more pictures and some stupid selfies for Bela to find later. The shop was closed to the public and since Billie’s latest playlist had started over, Dean asked if he could hook up to the bluetooth. 

Billie looked at him appraisingly as it became clear that he was playing his own music during his girlfriend’s appointment. 

“What?”

“You’re either looking for my approval or you’re buttering me up by letting me hear this first. Which is it?” Billie manhandled Bela back into position to get going on the shading.

“I don’t know, man. Both?”

Billie hummed, but didn’t reply.

Dean walked around the studio, looking at the different sets of flash and paintings that covered the walls. He flinched away from the spinning display of rods, tapers, disks, and rings for piercings and stretching. He felt like a waste of space, but mainly because he was never any good with boredom. Being idle in a place he was already uncomfortable, for a plethora of reasons, was akin to torture.

He remembered to breathe.

He checked his phone. He put that back into his pocket. He stole Bela’s phone for a few more pictures, trying not to look directly at her raised, red flesh.

“How’s it going?” Dean asked, after giving Bela her phone back, his album running its course around them.

“I’d say another twenty minutes and then I’ll bandage her up. You good?” Billie asked, surprisingly sincerely.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. Just curious,” Dean muttered.

“Hey, Dean. I like the music,” Billie said, waiting for him to make eye contact.

“Thanks,” Dean nodded, trying not to let his blush show.

“When’s it coming out?” Bela asked, suddenly reminding Dean why he was there in the first place.

“End of April,” he said. “Single’ll be released week after my birthday.”

Bela paused and looked up at him, but Billie was the one to break the ice.

“Which is?”

“Uh, the 24th. Baby hits your airwaves on the 29th.”

“Is that Annie Hawkins on that track?” Billie asked.

“Yup,” Dean grinned.

“Damn, almost forgot about her. Nice pull,” Billie praised.

Dean chuckled, not explaining his connection. She’d find out eventually, if it even mattered. “Yeah, we got lucky with that one.”

Bela was inked up, wiped down and vacuum sealed over the following half hour. Dean paid for the work, plus a generous tip. And posed for a few promotional shots with Bela and Billie alike. Once everyone was satisfied that what they had would help all involved, Bela and Dean said their goodbyes and thank yous and headed out for a late dinner at Elizabeth’s. 

“Do you want me to send these to you or to Y/N to latergram?” Bela asked as their drinks arrived. 

“Just send ‘em to Trouble. She’ll know what to do with them better than me,” Dean ducked out of the responsibility, unaware he was planting another social media minefield for you to navigate by doing so.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Nineteen: Pizzicato

[pascalscoffin]

Away From The Devil pt. VIII

Full Pedro Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Pt. IX

Warning: Minors Go Away I Will Kick You In Your Forehead. I just don’t want kiddos here. Reader is around 24, Joel is 56. Reader is female and uses she/her pronouns. Joel’s trying so hard to behave, pray for him. Mentions of David. Reader grew up Christian but the real kind not the David kind.

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Joel was suffering, after Ellie was up and dressed you were on the road again, and then the Fleetwood Mac CD was being pushed into the radio, your fingers crossed before you cheered when it started to play the first song. It was one of those CDs that had all their best hits on it. It was just loud enough to hear without disturbing any conversations. The sun was at the perfect angle and it shined on you just right and made you look like a goddess and god he was… he was in rough shape.

The windows were down, rushing air in while your head bobbed and your lips mouthed along to every song that came on, your brain eager to memorize it. When you weren’t doing that you were distracting Ellie, trying to give her reasons to talk or laugh, even if it didn’t always work and it was obvious Ellie wasn’t in the mood to talk.

You were beautiful, it was just a fact Joel couldn’t get away from or deny in the slightest of ways. You had a whole life ahead of you, though. Sure it may not be much of a life with the apocalypse and Joel destroying any chance there might be of the world going back to the way it was any time. But you could find someone your own age, someone that would love you properly and would be better attuned to someone your age. Joel was old and it’s been years since he was with a woman your age or even one remotely similar to you.

You reminded him of before, how easy it was to be happy then and how fleetingly the emotion came now. Despite what you’ve seen and done you still had that aura about you, like nothing could take your smile from you and he found himself admiring that more than anything.

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You drove for a while before the SUV started to make an odd clunking noise and the radio died out as smoke started flooding from the hood. With a curse Joel had pulled over and got out to check under the hood while you and Ellie waited in the car. “You okay?” You asked her softly, turning your head towards her with a small frown.

Ellie shrugged and glanced back at you. “I’m fine. Just… sucks.” She sighed as you nodded, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Ellie.” You cleared your throat and turned your body towards her a little better. “I… I know you… were looking forward to it.” You looked down. “They did try, though.” God you felt like shit lying to her but her finding out the truth meant killing her relationship with Joel and whatever kind of friendship was blooming between the two of you. “They just… they were idiots, Y’know? They were working off of a maybe anyway.” You shook your head. “They were never sure it was going to work. They were just… praying it would.”

Ellie scoffed a bit at your words and you tilted your head. “What?” “Praying- funny choice of words.” She muttered and you frowned a little. “How so?” “Reminds me of David.” You straightened up a little and cleared your throat. “David was a shitty example. Of a man and a preacher.” You looked forward and clenched your jaw.

“Did you actually believe any of that shit?” Ellie scoffed lightly and you looked at her in the rearview before sighing heavily. “… I guess so, yeah.” You muttered. “Before my parents… yeah I did. When we were stuck traveling.. stuck out here. It was one of the things my mom taught me. My dad taught me some survival stuff, my mom taught me to count and read and all the other stuff. Religion was one of them, she’d read me the Bible and then I’d fall asleep to her breaking it down so I could understand what it meant.”

You shifted a little. You hadn’t really believed, or even thought much about God since your mom’s death. She’d told you to keep your faith, it was the one thing no one could take from you in this world… and as she withered away she took it with her, proving herself wrong.

“We prayed a lot and… it did make me feel better. I guess… and then she died and… it stopped feeling right.” You stared at the sliver of Joel you could see through the gap between the hood and the car, watching him try to wave the smoke away so he could look at the engine.

“Why?” You looked over at Ellie and frowned before looking away again as you tried to think about why. “… when I lost her… I lost what little bit of myself was left, I guess. What little… belief.. in anything. I had left. With my mother gone, really gone, he could do what he wanted whenever he wanted to… I couldn’t believe in something that was.. letting it happen.” You scratched your forehead and cleared your throat loudly.

“Why- why-“ you sighed and looked away before looking at her. “Why are you asking me about this?” Ellie blinked a little and shrugged. “I…” she frowned and shifted. “… why’d you keep going if you didn’t have anything to believe in… how..?” You blinked a little and looked down when you saw her rubbing her arm, opening your mouth to try and say something before you were interrupted.

“Well she got us close enough.” You looked over as Joel closed the hood and made his way to the drivers side door that was propped open. “We gotta walk the rest of the way. Probably about a five hour hike. But we can manage that, remember?” Ellie got a small smile on her face as she nodded, looking away from you to look at Joel. “Yeah.”

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Most of the hike up the mountain was silent, your fingertips sliding over trees as you passed by them, trying to think of something to say to Ellie, your conversation in the car digging at the back of your brain. You guessed Joel was getting a little tired of the silence because he kept looking back, like he was expecting you and Ellie to be talking at some point before he finally spoke.

“… Sarah and I used to hike like this all the time.” He looked back at Ellie and you could tell this was really about trying to connect with her than anything. “Wouldn’t say it was her favorite thing. She wasn’t a fan of the mosquitos and such. But she was a big climber, or scamperin’. That’s probably the right word. That girl, she’d see a big rock and just pew.” He shot his hand upward and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“She would’ve liked you.” He looked back at Ellie again but his eyes shifted to you for a second as well before looking at Ellie and then forward again. “Not to say, the two of you were the same. Definitely different kids.” “How so?” Ellie asked, probably her first words since you started the hike.

“Well she was a lot more… I wanna say girly, and I’m not saying you’re not girly.” “I’m not.” You laughed and shook your head. “Yeah, you’re not.” Joel agreed. “So that, heh, she was taller, she had a killer smile-“ Joel immediately defended himself, looking back at Ellie. “Again, not saying that you don’t. But you know why I think she’d like you?” “Why?” “Cause you’re funny. I think you would’ve made her laugh… Anyway, I bet you would’ve liked her back.” “Yeah. I bet I would’ve.”

As you got to the top of the little mountain/hill, you could see what Joel had referred to as Jackson several times throughout the drive and raise your brows. “There you go.” Joel looked at Ellie and then the community. “… holy shit.” You took a deep breath.

“Not much further now.” You follow Joel as he started walking, you could hear the smile on his face and you hoped he could enjoy it, hoped he could be at peace now. You hoped Ellie could be happy, too, and find something to care about besides finding a cure for a degree of humanity that you weren’t even sure deserved to be saved.

“Hey, wait.” You looked back at Ellie spoke and slowed to a stop a paces ahead of Joel. She looked at the two of you for a minute before muttering. “Fuck.” And walking closer to Joel, you stepped up to them curiously as she looked at Joel.

“Back in Kansas City you asked me about the first time I killed someone… when I got bit in the mall I wasn’t on my own. My best friend was there, and she got bit too. We didn’t know what to do and she says… ‘we can just wait it out, be all poetic and just lose our minds together.’… and then she did.. and I had to…” she looked up at Joel and took a deep breath. “Her name was Riley, and she was the first to die, and then it was Tess, and then Sam.” Joel shook his head.

“That’s not on you-“ “I know-“ “look, sometimes things don’t work out the way we hope. You can feel like-like you’ve come to an end.. and you don’t know what to do next but-but if you just keep goin’… you find somethin’ new to fight for- and maybe that’s not what you-“

“Swear to me.” You looked at Ellie and furrowed your brows. “Swear to me that everything you guys said about the fireflies is true.” “I swear.” Joel nodded and then Ellie looked at you. You nodded slowly. “Yeah, I swear.” You said softly.

Ellie stood there for a while, looking between the two of you before she nodded. “Okay.” You don’t know how convinced she was.. but it didn’t seem to be very and you just hoped she’d never find out as the three of started down the other side of the hill.

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Ellie walked ahead of you and Joel after that, the two of you walking side by side as you gave him the occasional glance. “So… Jackson. It.. it’s a, a decent place.. right?” You cleared your throat as Joel looked at you and furrowed his brows before nodding. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “They have Christmas trees.” He chuckled slightly when your eyes lit up. “Like with the lights and everything?”

He nodded. “Mhm. Lights and everythin’.” You grinned, just barely remembering going to see the Christmas lights with your parents before it all went to shit, flashes of lights and your parents’ smiles flickering through your mind. “And there’s no cannibals?” You were only half joking. Joel looked at you and chuckled lightly as he shook his head. “No cannibals.” You nodded. “Good.” You laughed lightly and sighed as you pushed your hands into your jacket pockets.

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When you got closer to Jackson a few people rode up on horses and you froze between Joel and Ellie and took a step back. “Joel-“ “you’re fine.” Joel looked back at you and held his hand towards you, nodding a little. “They’re makin’ sure it’s us.” He looked away from you towards the people on the horses.

“Joel. Welcome back.” Joel nodded to the woman on the horse. “Maria.” You looked between them with a small frown, feeling an awkward tension between them as you shifted. “Who is she?” Maria looked at you and you slowly crossed your arms, uncomfortable with all the eyes now glued to you.

“She’s.. a friend.” Joel looked back at you, and you could’ve sworn you saw his gaze soften and his eyes trail over you before he looked at Maria. “A friend?” Maria raised a brow and Joel nodded. “Where’d you meet her?” You looked down when you finally registered the dog, everything else drowning out as your heart sped up in your chest.

The dog looked mean, glaring and growling at you as it stepped closer slowly. When it got to you, though, it jumped up and put its paws on your torso. You blinked rapidly and looked up from the dog cautiously as it jumped down. Next thing you knew you were on the back of a horse with Joel, headed to Jackson.

You were quiet, looking around you as the group of horses trotted along, your hands holding onto the back of Joel’s jacket to keep you stable without actually grabbing onto him.

When you rode into Jackson a guy with long black hair and a goatee came up and helped Maria off her horse, greeting her with a kiss as Joel hopped down and helped you off the horse. His hands felt warm on your hips and they lingered a bit before he pulled away.

“You picked up a stray.” The dark haired commented as he pulled away from his hug with Joel, this must be Tommy. “This is y/n. Y/n this is Tommy. Joel’s brother.” Ellie commented. “She is fucking awesome, Tommy. She killed a Clicker! With just a knife!” You felt your cheeks warm up as Tommy’s eyebrows shot up, looking at Joel, who nodded.

“Well- then it’s great to have you around. I’m sure you’re gonna be a great help.” Tommy nodded with a smile and dropped his hands to his sides. “Alright, I’m sure you guys are hungry and stuff so we’ll grab something to eat, and then you guys can head to your house.” His eyes fell to you. “We uh… have more empty houses if you want one to yourself?” He suggested. “Joel and Ellie’s place only has.. two bedrooms so unless-“

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” Joel took your things off the back of the horse as he spoke and you looked at him curiously. “What? Joel, no, I can take the couch, it’s fine.”

“I can take the couch.” “Joel- no- you’re gonna have back problems or something.” “I ain’t that damn old.” “Joel you literally are, just shut up and let me take the couch.” Ellie looked at Tommy and mouthed. ‘Oh my god’ before looking at you and Joel. “You guys could always share.” You and Joel looked at Ellie quickly, your face burning as a smirk spread across her lips.

“… or you can have your own place.” Tommy suggested. “No.” You said quickly, clearing your throat, you didn’t want to be alone, not somewhere new. “I… we’ll just… talk about who sleeps where later.” Ellie threw her hands up but didn’t say anything, instead walking next to you as you walked towards the main area.

“Dude that was your chance.” You looked down at Ellie and shook your head. “There was no chance. He looked like he was gonna blow a gasket when you said we should share.” Ellie rolled her eyes and mumbled something you couldn’t quite hear as you stepped in.

As you say with your food you pushed all thoughts of David to the back of your mind, how Silver Lake had similar cutlery, how if David was here you’d been sitting with him, alone, with his hand somewhere on your back or thigh, possessing you without even saying anything.

But you weren’t with David, you weren’t back in Silver Lake. You were with Joel and Ellie, in a warm building with warm food and nice people who weren’t going to hurt you.

You’d be okay here.

You had to be okay here.

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Taglist:

@romanarose @orcasoul @caitlynsixxx @shotgun-shelby @aspecialgreenie

[pinkertinn]

CleonWeek Day4 - Nighttime Car Rides

Title: Drive? Summary: “I saw you in my dreams again, and it felt so real.” WordCount: 1,000 Cross posted to AO3

The hum of Claire’s car vibrated through Leon’s bones, lulling him into a light, buzzing trance as the joint burned between his fingers. He took a slow drag, watching the streetlights flicker by like lazy fireflies. The hazy glow reflected off the windshield, painting their faces in soft amber. It was nights like this—when the darkness stretched out before them, and the world felt small, just them and the road—that he felt alive. Even in the thick of it all.

“Drive?” That’s all she ever had to say. The ring of his phone in the dead of night was enough to jolt him from sleep. Without needing to think, he’d be tugging on his boots, each movement fluid, instinctive. There was no need for words, no need for explanations. He understood her unspoken request perfectly. They both carried the heavy burden of nightmares, their shared pasts pressing like lead against their chests. So, they'd slip away from the clamor of their own minds, leaving behind the oppressive darkness. Together.

The streets were empty, the city quiet, but the possibilities felt endless. They drove without purpose, without destination—just two people chasing the feeling of being young, of being free, of finding some kind of solace in the middle of their chaos. The air coming through the open window was cool against his face, tangling his hair, carrying with it the smell of wet asphalt and cigarette smoke. He passed her the joint, watching as she took a long pull, her eyes squinting against the glow of the passing streetlamps.

"Where to, Redfield?" he teased, his voice lazy, drawn out by the fog of the herbs.

She shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. “Anywhere but here.”

They never talked much on these drives. Words weren’t necessary. It was just them, the road, the smoke curling lazily between them. He'd steal a glance at her every now and then, wondering how they'd both managed to stay tethered to each other after everything. It was like fate—or maybe something more fragile. But eventually, life caught up with them. The world got loud again.

It was the chip, the one he couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—give her. The one thing that sat between them, heavier than all the other secrets. And after that, their night drives stopped. He stopped picking up the phone, stopped getting out of bed when she called. And, just like that, their easy rhythm faded into the noise of missions and missed chances.

The nights got longer after that, the roads lonelier. He still drove—smoke curling from his lips as he drifted down endless highways—but it wasn’t the same. Without her there, the silence was deafening. His fingers itched to turn on their mix CD, but he never did. It felt wrong. As if without her, the music had no meaning.

Years passed like that. His world spiraled, missions bled into one another, and before long, he forgot what it felt like to be young, to feel weightless. Until Alcatraz.

The near-death experience had a way of resetting things—reminding you what mattered. They were in quarantine now, confined to a small room with Chris, Jill, and Rebecca. But it was Claire he watched, her presence grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. They hadn't talked much, but the air between them hummed with something unspoken. Something familiar.

Late into the night, when everyone else was asleep, Claire caught his eye. That familiar smirk played on her lips, and she leaned closer, her voice a whisper in the quiet.

"Drive?"

He blinked, a lazy grin pulling at his mouth as if they were still those kids cruising through the night. Without a word, they were on their feet, tiptoeing through the room like teenagers sneaking out of their parents' house. Claire nudged Chris’s arm as they passed him, muttering something about needing to check the perimeter, but it was clear he was too out of it to care. Jill mumbled something in her sleep, and Rebecca stirred, but neither woke.

They were outside in moments, the cool night air washing over them, and Leon felt something loosen in his chest, something that had been coiled tight for years. His bike was parked just beyond the building, waiting like an old friend. They hopped on, Claire’s arms instinctively wrapping around his waist, and it felt like no time had passed at all.

The engine roared to life beneath them, and they tore down the road, the world blurring around them. Wind whipped through his hair, tugging at his jacket, and Claire's laughter echoed in his ear, high and free. He couldn’t help but laugh too. It felt like freedom, like youth, like they’d stolen time back for a little while.

"Where are we even going?" she yelled over the engine, her voice half-drowned by the wind.

"Does it matter?" he shouted back, a grin splitting his face.

She dug her fingers into his sides, teasing him. "Just don’t get us killed again, Kennedy."

"No promises."

They weaved through the streets, no direction, just motion, just them. Claire’s warmth pressed against his back, the weight of her familiar and grounding. They weren’t young anymore, not really, but tonight—racing through the city with nothing but the stars above and the open road ahead—it felt like they were. It felt like they’d found that space again, the one where time didn’t touch them, and they were just two souls in a world too big to hold them down.

And for the first time in years, Leon felt safe. He felt home.

[leviathanlazarus]

Reaching for Stardust - Part II

Read Looking For Space here; playlist / Read RFS Part I here; playlist

Read (comment!!) on wattpad

Word Count: ~4300

Warnings: none

<3

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Josh and I had tackled grocery shopping first thing in the morning, unpacked it all, then headed out for a long walk through some swamps that were so overgrown and murky that it lended to a very quiet experience with no one to interrupt us. It was nice. He’d been quieter than usual again, though I thought he might just want to tune into the wildlife we didn’t always get to encounter–the tree frogs were invisible around us but loud, their throaty songs permeating the air, and Josh vocalized wonder as to what they were saying to each other. The bullfrogs were loud too, impressive in their deep calls, and we saw a couple leap from the muddy edges of the trail into the dark, shallow water and disappear. Redwing blackbirds fluttered from reed to reed, pausing on cattails to tweet more words unknown to us before going off to perch somewhere else, and the geese beyond were paddling through the water with fuzzy bunches of yellow babies, which Josh and I had to stop and watch until they got too far away to squeal over anymore. 

But Josh wasn’t quiet in the car–he was singing along to Van Morrison, the copy of Saint Dominic’s Preview that his dad had given to him rolling through the CD player, and I was amused at how he sang every word with passion despite how strangely their voices mixed. Or didn’t mix at all, really. They didn’t go together, making for quite a jarring duet, but Josh just kept going and I kept watching–I watched the sun hit his eyelashes and his cheekbones, how it cast a shadow down his neck when we drove through the trees and back onto the paved roads, and I watched his hands move from the wheel to the air as he sang along. He was always moving. He couldn’t ever just be still, not even while driving, and I could still remember how much that had annoyed me when we’d first met. Now, I couldn’t imagine why–he was like a bird too, colorful and vocal, quick and strategic. 

The sun wrapped itself through his honey curls and I reached out to touch his hair, to run my fingers over the shaved patch above his ear. “You ever gonna let all this grow out again?” 

Josh hummed with the last few words of the song before he answered: “Maybe. Why, do you miss it?”

“Sometimes,” I admitted, looking in my mind’s eye at a snapshot of Josh from years prior, all that hair wild, untamed, ridiculous, adorable. “I like it. But you already know if you get rid of all your hair, I’m leaving you.”

He laughed, nose crinkling. “Oh yeah, you’ve told me that. I’m not gonna. We still have to get married, you know.”

I huffed out a small laugh at him throwing that out there so casually. “I remember that too, don’t worry.” 

“So when are we gonna do it?” Josh asked, turning for a moment to look at me, his eyes catching the light too and I could see a brief glimpse of all their colors, the nature that lived inside those irises. 

“After you propose to me,” I told him, then laughed again. “Unless this is your proposal?”

“Absolutely not. But you said you didn’t want me to propose to you yet.” 

“You don’t think we should buy a house first?” I reminded him, looking out the window as we passed other people’s houses, all looking way better than an apartment. “That’s really my only stipulation. I thought we talked about it.”

“I know. But I just don’t wanna wait much longer, darling.” 

I looked back at him, gazing down at the pendant, the Taurean bull, the little starshine jewel, I’d given him for our first anniversary that was hanging around his neck. Truthfully, I didn’t want to wait much longer either but I wanted to put down real roots first–I wanted us to have a place we could truly call home and begin to build before we put the final touch on our relationship. Josh had never been so orthodox with anything really and that was okay, which made me wonder even more why he wasn’t so willing to just go along with my idea. But maybe this was that bull-like stubbornness rearing its head. 

“It’ll be better for us to be married when we buy a house anyway,” Josh went on. “For the taxes and everything.”

“Oh?” I quipped, not even sure about that myself. “What difference does it make? I thought married couples got tax breaks no matter where they lived.”

“Well, both our names would be on the deed or whatever regardless. What difference does it make when we buy a house?”

“If it makes no difference, why can’t we buy a house before we get married?”

Josh sighed. “We could probably plan a whole wedding and get married in the time it’d take to even find a house.”

“Wanna bet?” 

“No, I just wanna be your husband.”

I inhaled sharply. That shut me up. We’d talked about getting engaged, getting married, being married, but we’d never actually said “husband” and “wife” before. It sounded so formal. So adult. And I often still felt like Josh and I were still kids, just two silly people messing around even while being in love and having a life together, and it was jarring to suddenly be reminded that we were far from that. So far from that and there was no going back and that wasn’t even a bad thing. It was just kind of a scary thing. 

“Okay. No bets,” I said, reaching over to place my hand on his thigh. “But I still think I can find a house faster than you can get a ring.” 

“You think I don’t already have a ring?” Josh asked, then cackled over Van Morrison’s grunting. “Come on, you know me better than that.”

My heart did a little flip. “You do? Seriously?”

Josh patted my hand on his thigh. “Yeah, silly goose,” he said, then wagged his finger at me with his eyes on the road. “But don’t even think about asking to see it. That’s gonna be a surprise. The whole proposal will be a surprise.” 

I had imagined it many times in slightly different ways each time. The one constant was that it would be at night–the stars HAD to be there when it happened. I trusted Josh felt the same way. As I imagined it again, I said, “I’m sure it will be. You’ve always been full of surprises.”

“I try my best. Gotta keep things spicy,” Josh said, smiling big enough in my peripheral vision to catch my full attention again. “So about tonight–you wanna get dinner first?” 

“Yeah, definitely. You said there’s some Mediterranean place that’s good?” 

“Sam says so. Or we could go to that diner we liked the last time. Up to you.”

I looked back out the window. We were almost home and the afternoon was still relatively young and warm, keeping me optimistic about the impending night, not that there was anything to actually be edgy about. It was always just such an experience when the boys played a show–they’d come so far as time had gone on. They were on a real label, had a manager, traveled in an actual bus and had all moved to Detroit in the past year. Big changes. Josh and I knew those wouldn’t be the last of the changes, either. It felt like only a matter of time before they moved somewhere even bigger where they could really flesh out and grow to be even more successful so, for now, we all made the mini road trip whenever we could to see one another. I was glad their show was going to be in their home base and even though we could zip back home afterward, I proposed something of my own instead.

“What if we got a hotel tonight?” I asked Josh, already picturing the two of us rolling around drunk in fluffy white linens.

“Ooh, hell yes,” Josh said, smiling big again, his perfect teeth gleaming in the sun. “Why didn’t we think of that sooner? I mean, what’s stopping us?”

“Absolutely nothing.” I grabbed my phone and pulled up Google. “I’ll find us a room right now.”

We showered, dressed, packed our bags and headed on the road again with Josh driving, of course, again. He’d bought a used Jeep Compass a few months back and was still loving it even with winter being over–it was a struggle to get him NOT to drive. Not that I minded. Josh was good at going fast enough to always make good time without ever attracting police, which he was also very skilled at spotting along the highway. I did find it amusing how small he looked inside the car though, perched up high in the driver’s seat like a little sparrow. 

I missed the boys, probably far more than I let any of them and also Josh on. It’s not like they were all that far away, just a hop skip and a jump down 75 and we were there, but sometimes it felt so far. I had gotten so used to seeing them all the time. They were always around. Then suddenly they weren’t. What made it more difficult was how much busier they’d become, so texting had decreased and phone calls were almost non-existent, at least with me. I knew it wasn’t all that much better for Josh but he never let his woes about it show. I still knew it hurt him, he was just resilient, always able to find the good in everything even when it was painful to get there.

“Do you ever think about what life would be like if you’d been part of the band?” I asked Josh as we cruised down the highway, the sky a vast sea of surprisingly clear blue beyond. “I mean, you definitely have the voice for it. And the poetry.” We’d talked about this before too, but it’d been a while–I was curious if the answer had changed. Josh always struck me as someone who needed more freedom than even an artsy film instructor had; then again, sometimes it seemed like being in a touring band didn’t give the boys all the freedom they deserved. 

“It’d be fun. But my life is fun now, too,” Josh said, turning to give me a wide, sparkling grin. “Anyway, I always stole the show when Jake and I were growing up. Now it’s his turn to be front and center.” 

“They all look so–so shiny all the time now,” I commented, looking out the window as I envisioned Danny with his face adorned in rhinestones, Sam’s sleek, shimmering blazers and Jake’s jeweled details on all his stage outfits. 

Josh laughed, sounding pleased by my observation. “They clearly have fun with it. I keep asking Jake to give me some things whenever he’s done with them. Reduce, reuse, recycle to your older brother.”

“Older by five minutes,” I reminded him, although I definitely was into the idea of Jake passing on some pieces to Josh. He’d wear a bejeweled jacket out anywhere, no fancy event needed. 

-

Our hotel was more or less in the heart of downtown, requiring Josh to zip his Jeep through a dark parking garage, and then our echoing footsteps brought us down an elevator and to the check-in desk, where Josh was too late with scolding me for paying for the room. I told him he could buy dinner and breakfast to make up for it, to which he grumbled but ultimately agreed. 

The room was standard–simple and inviting and so neat and tidy that I felt a weight lift off my chest. Cool taupe walls surrounded us, with mahogany carpet to go along with the paint and a mahogany desk to match that, a queen bed made up with a tightly tucked, plush white bedspread and an excess of fat pillows, a decently sized flatscreen TV, a black mini fridge with an array of undoubtedly ungodly priced snacks laid neatly beneath it. The best part of the room was the view. We had an open, clear view of the city, the buildings tall and captivating beyond the glass, and the river wasn’t far from our eyes either. 

We dropped our bags to the floor and I beelined for the bathroom, which was also impeccably clean–at least in appearance–and neat, and from beyond the closed door, which was an element of our relationship neither of us felt compelled to change, Josh spoke to me.

“So are we still doing Mediterranean? Or do you wanna look at this visitor’s guide?”

As I zipped back up I replied, “We should look anyway. Like we’re tourists.” 

“We’re like groupies,” Josh corrected as I washed my hands, and when I came back out he was sitting at the foot of the bed flipping through the guide. 

“Yeah, that’s more accurate.” I sat down next to him, then flopped backwards to lie flat on the firm yet somehow cloud-like mattress. “The show’s at seven, right?” 

“Yep. Masonic Temple.”

“Oh yeah.” I turned to look out the window, the memory of our last experience there coming back to me–it had been the boys on that stage last time, too. It was crazy, I thought, how drastically things could change in just a couple years. I wasn’t sure I could take much more change for a while. 

Josh and I had preemptively decided that we would actually show up as sparkly and glittery as we could to go along with, and hopefully bring some joy to, the boys. We stood side by side in the bathroom mirror after we got dressed–Josh was wearing a flowy, sheer white shirt with gold embroidery that he’d found during a previous thrifting excursion–while I was in form-fitting royal purple, applying glitter to our eyes and cheeks until we both looked more or less like disco balls. 

No matter how much or what kind of attention he drew to himself, Josh never got his feathers ruffled and I always adored that about him. He walked as tall as he could, with a natural air of pride but also approachability, and kept himself open to that attention and to the whole world. He just never seemed that afraid of anything–not of judgment, certainly. And not even of all these changes. He took everything as it came, threw some glitter on it like it was magic and went through the universe like he knew he was an intrinsic, unstoppable part of it. And he’d helped me feel the same at times, like when we descended in the elevator and reentered the public, and I didn’t feel any shame at all even while plastered in color and sparkle. What made it all the better was when Josh took my hand as we exited the hotel and hit the streets. I still often felt like one of these days, he was going to take my hand and we were just going to fly away like Peter Pan and Wendy. I figured stranger things had happened, and Josh was full of wondrous strangeness. 

Our dinner ran late with the restaurant understandably being busy on a Saturday night, so by the time we got to the venue, the opener was already playing and Josh and I decided we’d wait until after the show to accost the boys. I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that they’d reached a point of success where they had opening bands and weren’t the opening act themselves but by the time they were beneath the lights, glittering and sparkling even more than I expected, I was reminded yet again of just how incredible they were. 

Sitting next to me, Josh bobbed and sang quietly along to the songs. He knew all of them, even the newer ones, by heart. There was a part of me that had always anticipated him changing course, joining the band, no matter how fulfilled he already was. I could easily see him up there next to Jake, creating beautiful chaos right along with everyone else. But I was glad he hadn’t. I thought our life together was fun, too–Josh immersed in academia, in a subject he loved just as much as music, me trailing along in travel writing that wasn’t quite a passion but certainly helped to keep the focus and the funds on building more and more pieces of this life together. 

Josh took my hand and gently stroked the backs of my fingers; I thought about what it would be like if we both wore wedding rings. I didn’t even know what his might look like for sure–gold, certainly, but a simple band didn’t suit him. He’d need something more extravagant. What did my ring look like? Where did he keep it? When did he buy it? My mind was suddenly racing with so many questions that my surroundings blurred until my body registered Josh’s touch again, and I looked down at his own perfectly sculpted hand before looking back up at the stage.

When we were backstage, riding a high that wasn’t even truly our own, Josh roped his twin into a tight hug and I made my way to the rhythm section, and soon enough I felt Sam’s lanky arms and Danny’s ridiculously hard arms around me and the entire world felt like it got brighter and warmer. Their presence just did that. 

“God, you were amazing,” I said with my chin over both of their shoulders. When I pulled back, Jake suddenly swarmed me in his own hug, his slight body still very apparently buzzing with a high of his own. “And it’s been ages, you lunatics.”

“I know, I know,” Jake said, his voice even huskier post-set. “You guys should just move here.”

“Well, what’s the point when you’re a touring band now?” I replied, taking him in, all sweat and glitter and magic. They all were. Josh too, though far less sweaty, already gathered Sam and Danny in his arms like they were bundles of flowers and not nearly twice his size. “Just move back home.”

“What’d you think of our new songs?” Sam pressed, squirming out of Josh’s grasp, and wiped the back of his hand over his forehead, pushing his hair back. 

“Loved them,” Josh and I said in unison, and I added, “I remember the title of one of them, I think. ‘Brave’ something, right?”

“‘Brave New World,’” Danny answered, holding his hair up from his neck with one hand. I could so clearly see the literal growth that had taken place in silence, undetected in the passing moments, over the past few years especially in him. None of them were boys anymore. None of us were kids anymore, point blank, and the all-consuming, final realization of it made me dizzy for a moment. 

“That’s right, ‘Brave New World,’” I repeated, committing the title to memory. “I love it. I loved all of it. Your shows never get old.”

“Except you guys are getting old,” Josh said, slinging his arm over Jake’s shoulders, and Jake scoffed, rolling his eyes even as he smiled at his brother’s teasing.

“You’re only as young as you feel,” Sam corrected. “And I feel pretty damn young. Spry, as a matter of fact.” 

“Definitely spry,” Danny agreed, letting his hair down, dark curls spilling over his tan shoulders. 

“You guys going out?” Jake asked, looking Josh and I up and down. “You look like you’re dressed for it.”

“This was all for you,” Josh told him, then moved in next to me and wrapped his arm around my waist. “But we could go out, provided you’re all joining us in that quest.”

Jake laughed. “I think that can be done.” 

None of them even stopped to shower–we all headed out, the three rock stars still sticky with sweat, and all of us were as jovial as we had been when we were just kids. The bouncer sitting in the doorway of the bar asked for all of our IDs and gave a particularly lingering look at Sam’s. He’d always be the baby as far as I, and seemingly everyone else, was concerned. 

I was spared the weight of nostalgia the longer we were out and the more we drank, too immersed in the glow of the present to fall back into the past. Sam and Danny knocked back tequila shots like it was their job and Jake had apparently become somewhat of a beer expert, so he and Josh were ordering all kind of tasting glasses and debating which were the best and why, and I was in the thick of it all, blissfully getting more and more intoxicated with my own cocktails. Bits and pieces of memories came back to me at times, little moments of remembering that tugged on my heart, but for the most part I found myself tethered to exactly where I was, just grateful we were all together and grateful that things felt so similar to how they’d once been. 

“I hate saying goodbye,” I lamented after the bar lights flashed and it was time for all of us to go, and we were huddled together on the sidewalk outside. The boys were waiting for their ride and Josh assured me he was fine to drive, having got too caught up in the IPA debate to even get drunk. 

“It’s not goodbye,” Danny assured me and stumbled a bit as he stood, which was particularly amusing to see in contrast with how controlled he was while sober. “It’s just like, see ya later. Right?”

“It’s like, an hour drive,” Sam added, grabbing Danny’s arm. “‘S not so bad.”

“But you tour,” I reminded both of them, sadness dripping in my words though I didn’t quite feel the brunt of it yet. “Just–just stay in one place for a while. Otherwise Josh and I are gonna have to become roadies or something.”

Josh laughed and brought his arm to my waist again. “Yeah, that’s true. She’s very into that idea, as a matter of fact.”

“We’ll hang out again soon,” Jake said and, at least from him, it sounded real and true and I felt a little more reassurance. “We’re not going anywhere. Not really.”

“Not forever,” I said.

He shook his head, smiling. “Not forever.”

When Josh and I made it back to the hotel, it really hit me how fast the whole night had gone by and I thought, Was this what life just becomes for everyone? Time zipping by before you even have the chance to remember what you’re passing through? Even with an abundance of booze making it more challenging, I tried to commit more pieces to memory–the way Sam’s shirt had flashed and shined like pearls as he played, his face too, how he always looked so enraptured by the music there was no way to get him out of that space. His little beard and mustache combo too, which was new, and Jake’s, and Josh’s. I wasn’t sure when they’d all gotten on that train but I was secretly glad Danny kept his face bare. Picturing him with a goatee made me laugh, then I resumed trying to memorize other things–the way the bar had laser-carved a bird into the bottom of their beer glasses, according to the twins anyway, and how the bubbles from the beer followed its shape. The streetlights lining our way as Josh drove and the sound of his brother’s very own band playing from his stereo now, Josh singing along. Then his arm in mine as we meandered the halls of the hotel again, the dull, blue and beige pattern of the carpet beneath our feet and the strange quietness of it all.

Inside our room once more and kicking off our shoes, Josh even said, “You’re so quiet tonight,” and I then tried to memorize the way his voice sounded as he said it. Almost hushed, sounding a little tired but also a little concerned. That wasn’t surprising. He knew my moods well and knew what caused them to shift.

“I’m just thinking,” I answered truthfully, relieved to feel the soft carpet beneath my bare feet again. I reached up to touch my face, my fingers coming back with glitter that was flaking off my cheeks. “Currently thinking about how much of a pain it’s gonna be to take all this off.”

“I’ll help you,” Josh said, steering me alongside himself into the bathroom. I obliged him with this, leaning back against the sink as he wet a cotton pad with makeup remover and got to work, gently pressing and swiping over my skin. 

I found myself just staring at him, gazing at the glitter on his own skin, how is accented his perfect complexion; his eyes sparkled even more profoundly than the glitter though and I looked into them, through the dark lashes into the dark pools that still kept my soul happily ensnared. 

Josh met my gaze when he pulled back to get another cotton pad wet, smiling: “What are you looking at?”

“Duh. You,” I told him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him into me to kiss. No matter how many times we’d done it since we’d met, it never, ever got old–Josh’s lips were eternal flower petals against my own, his skin soft and sweet, his touch far more intoxicating than any substance on earth. And then he held me close in return, one hand reaching up to touch my face, I saw the burst of a million stars behind my eyes and the celestial glow from his body warmed my heart.

---

Tagging no one because RIP the 2018-2021 fandom LOL please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in this series!

[aquoteamusetheword]

The Music of My Life

“Music can heal the wounds which medicine cannot touch.” ~ Debasish Mridha

I remember when I fell in love with music, rock music. It was when my very cool uncle Lynn returned home from Vietnam. He had a reel-to-reel tape deck and giant headphones (hence the picture). This is when I first heard Iron Butterfly, King Crimson, Yes, Led Zeppelin, Warm, to name a few… I was hooked.

My Mom and stepdad loved music too. Our road trips always included loud signing with the windows down. I will never forget the Christmas when I received my first stereo. I still know my first two vinyl albums; Supertramp ‘Breakfast in America’ (a favorite even today) and John Lennon / Yoko Ono ‘Milk & Honey’.

Many Friday and Saturday nights were spent playing bumper pool in my friend Stephen's basement. We had a car 8 track player wired to a set of speakers. The only 8 track we had was Bad Company ‘Burning Sky’, I still know every word to every song.

Eventually, we purchased a CD player for the house. My mind was blown when I listened to the full digital recording that was Dire Straits ‘Brother in Arms’, I am sure our neighbors enjoyed it too.

In the event that someone under the age of thirty-five is reading this, I have some explaining to do. Here is a brief history of pre recorded music in my lifetime. In my early childhood vinyl LPs were what we listened to at home. The only option for the car was the 8 Track. If you don’t know what an 8 Track tape is, imagine a case twice as wide and twice as tall as your iPhone. It made up for its clunkiness by pausing and changing tracks in the middle of every other song (usually during the best part of the song). Finally, cassettes arrived, they were roughly half the size, played on both sides and you could record LPs on to them (I know the technology is overwhelming). CDs ushered in the digital age.

Believe it or not, we used to hear a song we liked on the radio, actually drive to the music store, browse the CDs, find the one with the song on it, pay $12.99 (if it was on sale), hope the rest of the songs were good, spend and hour recording it on to cassette so that we could listen to it in the car, this was a far cry from “Alexa, shuffle the hits of the eighties…”

I worked at Musicland when I was in college. After school, my first 'real' job was to manage the one in Brookwood Village in Birmingham. This store was the number one Jazz and Classical location in the entire 2000 store chain. We played it every morning and I learned to love these genres as well. David Sanborn ‘Straight to the Heart’, David Lanz ‘Cristofori’s Dream’ and Nigel Kennedy ‘Vivaldi’s Four Seasons’ are all still in my rotation.

It was here that I met the sweetest older man, Stan. He walked the mall a few times a week and he knew and loved classical music like no one else I have ever known. He was in the middle of the long and arduous task of buying CDs to replace his LPs as they were being released. I had his list and anytime a we received one of the recordings on CD, I would give him a call. We often had lunch in the food court, he taught me about classical composers, I taught him about Stevie Ray Vaughn.

Stan stopped walking the mall. I left two messages about new arrivals and he didn’t show. I was concerned and missed my friend. A few days later a man entered the store and asked for me, I introduced myself. He told me that he was Stan’s son and that his father had passed away. I never even knew that he had cancer. I will never forget the next words from his mouth…” my dad wanted me to tell you how much he appreciated your talks and you calling him, and he wanted you to have this.” He handed me an LP wrapped in brown paper. We embraced, he departed. I went to the back, shed a tear and unwrapped a pristine copy of ‘Meet the Beatles’ on Apple records, still in cellophane. I have never even had it appraised, to me it is priceless.

“Sing to the LORD a new song, for he has done marvelous things” ~Psalm 98:1

[darthbreezy]

Remember as of Yesterday

The line before 'To Absent Friends'' is actually a longer toast, and the the fact that I loved the alliterative pun to bookend these two titles.

This is from Crowley's point of view. Probably less Celestial intimacy, equal amounts of swearing, and a lot more introspection

Tartan socks. Crowley thought with a snort as he sat down heavily behind the wheel of the Bentley.

''Sorry old girl,'' he muttered fumbling about in a bag full of CDs. As they hadn't spent more than a day in the car, they hadn't transformed into ''the Best of Queen'' yet. He just needed something loud and musical to drown out his thoughts. He started the car, and put a CD in at random. In an instant, the swelling orchestral sounds of Andrew Lloyd Webber slammed into his ears.

...At last our feelings bared Beneath a moonless sky

And blind in the dark As soul gazed into soul I looked into your heart And saw you pure and whole...

Oh mighty FUCK No.

Slamming the eject button only caused it to skip forward a few bars.

And I kissed you And caressed you And the world around us fell away We said things in the dark We never dared to say... ''Turn it off right now, or I swear I'll let a human mechanic...'' Before he could finish the threat, the CD unceremoniously spat itself out, and the only sounds to be heard were the gentle rumble of the Bentley's straight six, and Crowley's own ragged breathing.

Right. If I stay here, he's going to think something's wrong. Nothing's wrong, I just need space to think that 's not here...

He put the car into gear, and slowly pulled away, pretending not to look in the rear view mirror, and see shop window shade fall back into place. ** Crowley would eventually go back to his flat a little later in the day, but for now he wanted to be somewhere... anywhere else.

He settled on Battersea Park. Back in the day, he had encouraged a duel or two here (if he were honest with himself, he mostly did it out of sheer boredom at the time. ) Starting duels in what was then Battersea Fields was easier than shooting fish in a barrel. A whisper here. A quiet word there. A hundred and fifty years ago, it became a proving ground for demons cutting their sharpened teeth on Temptations. It had earned him a 'Special Commendation.'

He found himself a space near the river bank, and although it was early, only a few of dedicated and the desperate denizens had also entered the park. They would be of no concern. He would be sure of it,

The bench was uncomfortable, and the sky was gray. Good. It suited his mood and made it easier for Crowley to generate an air of darkness about himself. a presence that would warn both the brave or the fool-hearty to keep their distance.

He would be left alone. Protections in place, Crowley allowed himself to turn inward. This wasn't something he did often - indeed he actively avoided it if he could finding that often as not, a good long nap (of a month or two) usually did the trick of resetting his mind (at least enough to make it bearable - immortality could be a real bitch sometimes with all the daily minutiae that caught itself in his thoughts) but after the... events that had occurred between himself... a DEMON and... and...

Angel...

Nebulas and star nurseries...

Pain...

Falling and...

No... Not yet...

He walked down the halls of his subconscious, grimacing as he passed different passageways marked with symbols and script. Some wide open, and the way clear, others half heartily boarded shut. Those were almost the worse and after the first time, he would not spare them more than a sideways glance. He had seen how they had been ransacked and robbed, and that farther in would lead to passages that had been sealed shut by another hand, leaving him feeling small and lost.

As he walked farther along, he became aware that he was carrying a box.

There, There it is... Now behave...

He began to pick up the pace. The box was growing in size. and getting warm. It began to move in his hands,

Please, no. Just a little further...

Cracks. White light so bright that it should be blinding, but it isn't, but he's reached his destination. It doesn't matter now... It's a simple, nondescript door, with a hand written sign haphazardly taped on to it. ''Golden Girls Fan Fiction Collection''

He opens the door and inside it appears to be an entrance to an old public toilet, and a rusted filing cabinet. He closes his eyes, and utters a name that was never his own in an angelic tongue.

The facade falls away to reveal the largest room of all. It's full of light, and books, and laughter and citrus and spices.

And Love.

So Much Love.

He longs to stay here, but knows he can't, and reluctantly allows himself to resurface to consciousness.

He's no longer alone on the bench.

A flash of rage and fear vanished as quickly as it had manifested itself.

''How long have you been there, Angel?''

(And how the Fuck did you find me?)

He tried to raise his arms to stretch, but quickly realised that he was wrapped in a large coach blanker. The tartan coach blanket from the bookshop.

Still looking out over the river, Aziraphale gave him a half smile.

''A two metre square Pit of Darkness in Battersea Park, Crowley? Rather hard to miss..''

Nonchalantly, Crowley shifted his leg so his knee and thigh rested against Aziraphale's. Under the blanket, Aziraphale's hand tentatively reached for Crowley's. Tenderly, their fingers interlaced, and Crowley stroked the top of his Angel's thumb with his own.

They sat together for perhaps twenty minutes, understanding conveyed perhaps not in words, but in comfortable silence.

It would be Aziraphale who would break the spell.

''Come on then,'' he said brightly as he stood up. ''If we sit here much longer, I'm afraid my sit upon may freeze!''

''Angel...'' Crowley began, removing his glasses with his free hand to meet Aziraphale's eyes, that were filled with sadness.

''They're still... watching us, Crowley...'' They won't let us go so easily, you know that...

''So they are...'' He replied sadly, putting another lock on his 'Golden Girls closet' ''Surely they can't object to two old friends having lunch?''

''You know what, dear?'' Aziraphale replied, and suddenly reached up and gently stroked Crowley's cheek. ''I don't think I care if they do. But I'm afraid it's a little late for lunch...''

''Dinner then. Come on. My treat...''

''I know the perfect restaurant in fact it's just a stones throw, there at the power station!''

''Great, What are we having, Angel?'' ''I thought we'd have... Oysters...''

[bindtorturekillme]

Your Eyes, Vacant & Stained

Ch.4 - 5k

Pairing: Frank Iero x Gerard Way

A handful of loud snapping sounds came from nearby, "Uh… guys?" Ray's voice sounded panicked.

"Yeah?" Gerard yelled back, Frank checked the mirrors but didn't see anything.

"The house with the red shutters!" Frank saw Ray pointing towards a house.

Warnings 

Gore, Death, Murder, WORK-IN-PROGRESS, not completed (and chapters unknown) but I know the ending, trust me guys I will write it, I just need people to love this idea with me, Zombies, Gay, mcr??

Support my AO3 with part four otherwise, enjoy ♥

Chap.1 | Chap.2 | Chap.3 | Chap.5 | Chap.6 | Chap.7 | Chap.8 | Chap.9 | Chap.10 |

The truck could only fit two comfortably, three if they squeezed, Ray and Mikey decided to take the trunk since they were both large in the shoulders. The roads were far from clear on the way to their next city, Gerard called it Mesq “With a Q”. He spoke with an accent that sounded like a cowboy impersonating a French man that made Frank laugh.

They drove slowly through large pile-ups, around bodies and potholes. Frank hung his arm out the window while Gerard drove. They didn’t come across many undead that were still walking, but when they did, Ray or Mikey would usually wind up their bats and spike their heads. Frank’s gut twisted every time one’s head blew up, he wasn’t able to comprehend how they were so okay with murder.

He checked his phone over and over again, but there were no new notifications. Frank wasn’t the type of person who was on social media, he barely gave anyone his phone number. But it was over forty-eight hours since he was in contact with anyone he knew, so he had forced himself to reach out. If Gerard was telling the truth, New Jersey wouldn’t have been hit yet, The Virus was barely into Utah. 

His first outgoing text was to a group chat he created with his parents and brother, at first he had no idea what to even say to them. He wasn't the type to reach out, but he told them he would let them know when he got back from this trip, which was supposed to be the previous day. He texted them as the group was piling their stuff into the truck. Frank sat in the passenger side with his duffle at his feet. He stared at the phone for a long time, typing up whole texts just to hate them and delete it all. Eventually, he settled with “Got caught up, not sure when I'll be back. Get to safety, if you’ve heard about the zombies, they’re real.” Now, they’d been driving for almost an hour and he hadn’t heard anything back. Frank gnawed at his lip but shoved his phone back into his pocket, attempting to push away the thought of his family.

Gerard glanced over casually, his sunglasses hid it from Frank. The handful of CD’s Frank discovered in the truck earlier didn’t satisfy Gerard, but he always kept two albums with him, he expressed they are "essential to him no matter the circumstances"; The Smashing Pumpkins’ Mellon Collie and Nirvana’s In Utero. They weren’t Frank’s favorite, but he didn’t judge. He wondered whether or not the music choice was why Ray and Mikey offered Frank the front.

Besides the numerous pile-ups everywhere, the skies were clear, the desert stretched far and the mountains cooked in the sunlight. As they drove, the trees got thicker and grass began to cover the ground. They drove almost an hour and a half before seeing the city sign they were looking for. They slowed down in front of it. A truck has driven through half of the sign, leaving just M-E-S-Q. Frank wondered if Gerard had scouted up here without him knowing, when he checked the map on his phone, it said they were in a city called Mesquite, but he continued to refer to it as Mesq, mimicking Gerard's bad accent every time.

A church had finished burning to their left, all that was left was charred pews, blackened ceiling beams had smashed into the confessionals and steeple. The giant marble crucifix with Jesus was still standing, though blacked from the smoke. A green field began to spread in front of them on the opposite side. Gerard had slowed as they drove into the city. A burning police car was turned over in the middle of the street they were following with more cars on either side like a barricade, bodies were everywhere, a semi was tipped over, crushing a few cars, a patch of cacti and more body parts. Between each mountain pass, Frank was able to see they followed a river and before long the mountains fell.

“I think we made it…” Frank’s low voice reached out the window to Ray and Mikey in the bed. 

Ray turned his head in towards the truck's back window, “Guys, is that a golf course?” 

Gerard chuckled menacingly, “I think you might be right!” He sped the car up, Frank gripping the handle above his door. Mikey got off his butt and started squatting in the trunk, looking like a meercat making sure it's safe to keep going, while Ray used his arm to hold on to the frame around them. Gerard swerved around some bodies but drove over ones that were macerated and unrecognizable. 

They followed the golf course until it ended, then they took the first ramp off highway 15 and quickly found the entrance to the course. The course reminded Frank of the hotel he woke up in. It wasn’t free from bodies and blood but there was a lot less dead here than the last few cities he'd gone through.

“Okay, before we settle here, we’re going to drive around a little bit,” Gerard explained to everyone but mostly for Frank. “We scope the neighborhood out in the truck first, for an easier getaway. This truck is… louder than what we like but at least we can outrun them.” Frank nodded in understanding and Gerard went past the course.

They didn’t go too far, another church was surrounded by a neighborhood that spanned three blocks. They turned down a street and Gerard instantly noticed a half eaten woman who was being dragged by three dogs, the dog's leashes were tied to her wrist, “I don’t think we’re in a safe-zone anymore…” Gerard grumbled.

Frank had his chin resting against the open window as he watched the zombies stand around, fumbling in their yards, he even noticed some inside the windows just staring at their tv’s that still aired reruns of pre scheduled shows. Occasionally one would notice they were driving past and Ray or Mikey would have to wind their bats up again. Ray made a joke about mailboxes and zombie heads feeling the same against a bat, but Frank’s ears were ringing as Rape Me by Nirvana played for the nth time. It wasn’t loud, but to Frank it sounded like the volume was on max.

Frank’s ears rang more, the truck's buzz was gone and he saw black fuzz around his vision again. Kurt Cobain’s voice moaned “rape meeee…… rape meeeee, again……….”, the louder his voice became, the more muffled it sounded. Eventually Kurt’s repeated screaming made Frank feel like he was at a bad house party, trapped in the bathroom while the music pounds at the door. A memory attempted to form, but Frank fought back. As his vision blackened slightly more, he whipped his head up and around to look at Gerard. Gerard wasn’t singing anymore, he definitely didn’t look relaxed. 

The bathroom Frank felt trapped in shrunk and his breathing got hard. Claustrophobia suddenly kicked in, Frank didn’t feel claustrophobic often, he knew he didn’t know how to handle it as his body grew hot and his head felt light. Anger bubbled in his chest like a cauldron about to boil over. He smashed the eject CD button and threw the CD down to Gerard’s feet. He turned back out the window, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in while a thick gust of air blew into his face.

Crunching gravel prevented a silence from happening, and it happened too fast for Gerard to realize what was going on. Frank opened his eyes again and turned back to Gerard, he pretended not to notice Ray and Mikey also staring in at them. “Sorry. Sorry, I just- It- Ugh.” Frank took a deep breath. “We’ve listened to that song a lot.” Frank’s head hung. Ray and Mikey quickly turned their backs to them again.

“Hey,” Gerard stretched his arm out and grabbed Frank’s leg. “You’re safe with us, there’s only a couple of us left, we gotta stick together.”

The cruise ended early when the truck coughed. Every zombie at the six closest houses whipped their heads towards the truck. Gerard cursed under his breath and grabbed the wheel with both hands, the zombies began approaching quicker than before stumbling over their own feet, some dropped hard onto their faces as they ran. 

Frank frantically looked around in front of them, attempting to remember which way the golf course was. 

A handful of loud snapping sounds came from nearby, "Uh… guys?" Ray's voice sounded panicked.

"Yeah?" Gerard yelled back, Frank checked the mirrors but didn't see anything.

"The house with the red shutters!" Frank saw Ray pointing towards a house.

"A good couple of these houses have red shutters, dude!" Gerard hadn't noticed Ray pointing, but Frank moved to stick his head out the back window to see which house it was.

A pack of hunchback creatures on all four paws were creeping out of a nearby home. Most of their jaws were intact and drooling a mix of saliva and blood. The creatures seemed to be dog-like, but most had chewed off tails or ears, and some of their legs were swollen with muscle. They were a sickly ash-brown color with huge circular lesions all over their bodies that were most likely bites that got infected. One of the creatures was much larger than the rest, thick with muscle but still covered in lesions, this ones skin was drooping and slopping off onto the ground. This one was also missing it's entire snout, a weird array of teeth protruded from the chunk of meat that was left of his face.

Their eyes traced the truck as the group stared. Swollen bloodshot eyes with little white left, their irises almost glowed neon yellow at certain angles.

The ones that were able to snarled and snapped, Gerard had slowed the car unintentionally as he was distracted by the hyena-esc scene developing before them. 

“You guys never mentioned zombie animals!” Frank’s frantic voice cut Gerard back to real life. A zombie screamed as it slammed its arms against the hood of the truck, all of them had been so distracted with what was behind them, they didn't realize the zombies were closing in. Francis realized quickly he was trapped.

In one swift move, Gerard shook his head, grabbed the wheel with both hands and said, “We didn’t know about them, either” before smashing his foot into the gas pedal. The zombie on the hood slid off and Gerard turned the wheels around it, crushing it's legs and making the truck jump on one side.  

Frank fumbled with his phone to get a map up again, Ray was making frantic sounds behind him that he couldn’t make out while Mikey stayed virtually silent as he smashed the zombie from the hoods head and watched the hungry beasts barrelling down the road at us.

The houses all looked the same as they rounded the corner and Gerard turning down every random turn he could didn’t help. To them, it felt like an infinite loop until ever so often the sound of a loud smash and pop as one would get too close and Mikey would use its skull for batting practice. 

“Take a left!!” Frank’s arm shot up over Gerard’s vision. Gerard slapped his arm down, swerving off the road momentarily. 

“Where?!” 

“HERE!” Frank grabbed the wheel this time and twisted it, Gerard felt a slight burn and the whole truck tipped more as Mikey got onto his knees and nearly hung out the side of the truck bed. Frank looked out the back window, “Mikey, I know we’re in danger, but can you sit FOR FIVE MINUTES?!” His anger was bubbling up and he knew it was the lack of alcohol.

Mikey’s stern face, although emotionless, sent a cold chill down Frank’s spin when they finally met eyes. “Drive better, I’m the only reason you’re alive right now.” Mikey turned away without giving Frank a second thought, only making Frank’s alcoholic anger boil. Ray was incoherently yelling still as he smashed down two more zombie dogs that had attempted to bite him. 

The golf course began emerging from the horizon like a mirage and Frank began laughing with relief. Gerard looked over at him a couple of times, unsure of how to respond as he noticed Frank was silently weeping as he laughed. 

Gerard checked the rearview, Mikey and Ray had taken out a good few dogs, he could only see four left. Each of them were running at different paces, snapping at the wheels and the back bumper. The most muscular one was staying behind the pack, Mikey had been watching that one since the houses. When it wasn't the first to attack, Mikey became suspicious.

“Give me your gun.” Frank held his hand out to Gerard, who was frantically looking back and forth between the road and mirrors. 

“What?”

“Give me your shotgun!” Frank pointed at it.

“I can’t,” Gerard grabbed the gun and wiggled, it was seemingly stuck between his seat and the car door.

“You didn’t notice?!”

“We were driving for TWO HOURS!” 

“GUYS!!” The sound of a loud popping made Frank and Gerard stop and turn to Mikey. He smashed another dog down, now only three were chasing. Ray was waiting for his moment to hit another. “The golf building is open.” 

Gerard and Frank followed Mikey’s point to see a giant gate to an employee’s only parking lot was now totally open, tall brick fences protected the lot and two people stood just inside the gates. They were getting close, “You need to slow down!” Frank shouted, a splattering pop interrupted him and he winced. Only one dog was left. 

Gerard let up his foot and let the car cruise to a slower speed, the dog was bounding at them now, snarling disgustingly with saliva and blood splattering everywhere. Ray and Mikey both got onto their knees and readied their aim as the final dog came at them. The two bats greeted one another after a loud splattering pop, aluminum meeting wood, the wood splintered loudly.

The final dogs head was gone and it's body slumped. Gerard and Frank attempted to catch a glimpse of the dog when Ray screeched. The creatures legs continued to run. At first they slowed and nearly stopped, but they quickly started running in place as if it was still going after them. Then the body started to wiggly more and Ray yelled about needing to get moving.

They rolled up to the golf course parking lot, carts and RV’s were littering the space. A large gate that separated the lot from the street closed behind them.

Two women stood together in matching uniforms, guns held defensively towards the truck. The truck slowed and came to a stop right in front of them, the women stood motionless but the gate behind them creaked shut.

Gerard gave them a wide grin and energetic wave. As either girl walked around each side of the truck, they demanded everyone get out, drop their weapons and undress. With very little protest, the group complied. Ray and Mikey left their bats in the trunk and raised their hands as they hopped out, Gerard and Frank flashed the girls their weapons before placing them on their sits.

"Make sure the gun isn't stuck next time..." Frank whispered to Gerard as they were putting their weapons back. Gerard's face went red before they turned their backs to each other.

"No! Not out here!" One of the girls exclaimed, everyone turned to look and saw Ray was taking his shirt off in front of the shorter of the two girls. "Go inside." She hid behind one hand as she pointed forward into the garage with her gun. Ray slid his shirt back down, chuckling before starting forward. Each girl stood behind two of the guys with their guns to their backs.

The girls introduced themselves as Scarlet and Charlotte, both had been employees and working when the virus came through. Their uniforms looked clean enough minus a few bruises and some torn seams. They made the men strip to check for bites, “Our boss turned after he claimed he wasn’t bitten,” Scarlet huffed out as the group got their redressed.

“We knew we couldn’t trust him, we won’t be that dumb again.” Charlotte finished and both girls sneered together at the thought of their now-zombified boss. They kept their guns pointed at the group, but brought them back outside to grab their weapons.

When the girls first introduced themselves, they had to reassure the group they were not related. Although, to the guys, they looked as though they could be twins, they looked exactly the same yet completely different.

Scarlet was nearly a foot and a half shorter than Charlotte, Charlotte’s small but long arms resembled slender man whereas Scarlet's short, round body was closer to the Venus of Willendorf. Scarlet kept her hair long and blonde whereas Charlotte’s was short and very clearly dyed a bright red. Charlotte kept her face bare, Scarlet, although smudged, still had a full face of make-up with lashes still attached.

Charlotte led the group, Scarlet followed behind everyone, through a small lobby area, then a hallway and a few doors. A small grouping of cubicles had been dismembered and recreated into a good sized barracked room. They had two makeshift beds made out of two couches and a handful of loveseats. A mini-fridge still ran in the corner next to a floor fan that wasn’t on, they had dismembered some of the desks in order to cover more of the windows that faced outside much like what the guys had done at their warehouse.

Maybe this group getting bigger is a good thing... Frank's head swam as everyone filed into the room. It felt cramped even with Frank and Ray standing by the door.

Gerard and Mikey each found a hole in the blinds to peer through and saw the perfectly manicured green stretch for miles; they couldn’t see the end. The green also had a handful of zombified people lingering slowly, a couple golf carts were overturned, some with struggling and unmoving zombies stuck under them. 

“Oh hey, if you see the fat, old, bald man with the giant “fuck-you” hat, that’s our boss.” Scarlet chuckled, not holding back.

“Yeah, we weren’t really able to kill him…” Charlotte added, quietly.

“Well, how many are out there? There’s six of us now, I’m sure one moaner can’t take six of us.” Gerard wondered out loud innocently. 

“Well I can tell there’s more than-” Mikey began speaking when Charlotte and Scarlet busted out laughing.

“Did you just say MOANers?!” Charlotte howled, Scarlet held her stomach.

“I told him it was bad.” Frank interjected, Ray snickered next to him but covered his mouth with his hand.

“God, do most men only ever think with their dick?” Scarlet wiped a tear from her face.

“What do you mean?!” Gerard pulled from the window defensively, Mikey ignored him and continued to search outside.

“It sounds like boner!” Charlotte and Scarlet made each other laugh again.

“I told you.” Frank looked at Gerard who was red in cheeks but not backing down.

“Okay then what would you rather call them? Zombies like every other cliche?! Who even says they qualify as zombies?!” Gerard was throwing his hands around as he spoke.

“That's what they are!” Scarlet, Charlotte, and  Frank all said in unison causing Scarlet and Charlotte to start giggling. Frank didn’t take his eyes off Gerard, Gerard lingered on Frank so long he wondered what Gerard was thinking.

"They can't die unless you kill their brain, so," Scarlet began.

"What else do they need in order to "qualify as a zombie"." Scarlet and Charlotte air quoted in unison as Charlotte finished.

Ray leaned close to Frank's ear and whispered, "I know they said they aren't blood related but I'm starting to think they were one brain that was split between two robots." Frank covered his mouth as they giggled together, Gerard was too distracted by the girls to notice.

“Come on, there’s a million names we could use, do we need to use the sexy one?” Scarlet said.

“How is it sexy?!” Gerard defensively crossed his arms.

“Besides it rhyming with boners, it’s literally Moan. Moaners. Moan.” Scarlet mocked a moan as Charlotte explained.

“That. Is. The. Sound. They. Make.” Geoff overemphasized.

“Actually it sounds more like a gurgling, growling screech but-” Scarlet jumped in.

“Guys!” Mikey’s deep voice boomed off the small walls as he pulled away from the window. “Can we move on from this? Who cares what they’re called. They can't die unless we smash their entire bodies, actually, so we need to learn more about this virus before we should even care about what we call them."

“Smash their entire body...?” Scarlet started.

"Everyone, come here," Mikey moved back to looked out the window, eventually, after moving a desk, everyone was able to find a spot to look outside. A handful of people roamed aimlessly, bodies still wriggled under some turned over carts. It took a moment to find again but Mikey directed everyone's attention towards a creature on all fours, missing a head.

The creature was walking around, if it bumped into something, it would just turn towards a new direction and start aimlessly walking again until it hit something else.

"What... is... that..." Scarlet whimpered.

"Has anything had zombie dogs before?" Charlotte sounded panicked.

"A few things have, actually," Mikey told her, "but I've never seen a zombie continue to work after it's head has been decapitated."

"Is that the same-?" Ray trailed off, Mikey responded with a quick 'yup'.

Okay, so, we we all saw that things head explode, but it's still moving... Frank was going over every trope he could think of, "Maybe we need to burn the bodies?"

Gerard groaned. "If we need to burn their bodies, they might as well be braindead vampires."

"But they don't suck our blood." Frank argued.

"No, but they do still eat us." Mikey interjected. "So, we'll need to keep an eye on that." He pulled away finally and everyone copied. "We should become more acquainted if we want to work together." Mikey was so stoic and straight forward, Frank thought sometimes he was a robot, he never saw him even crack a grin.

How do you not cope with humor?

“Weeellll... This is where we sleep! And eat… and hide for most of the day.” Scarlet attempted to help Mikey move the conversation on. The creature was outside, therefore not an issue until they needed to go outside again. Frank and Ray had stepped back towards the door to eliminate the closeness from the window gazing.  

“But, we have another whole set of cubicles just a little farther down the hallway, we just haven’t been back there to do much.” Charlotte began walking out, Frank and Ray moved to let her through then followed close behind. 

The cubicles down the hall were disheveled and abandoned but there were no bodies and most of the blood that did plague the room was stained into the carpets and dried. 

“We don’t have much more for furniture…” Scarlet interrupted from the back of the group, each person slowly moving in. 

“But we can definitely probably break into one of those RV’s in the back.” Gerard was always looking for some way to commit a crime in a lawless land, Frank’s stomach twisted with excitement and hope for a real bed to sleep in. He wondered if they’d have to share RV’s, he couldn’t recall how many were in the lot when they pulled up since he was more concerned about the dogs that were chasing them then the guns being pointed at them. He hoped if they did have to share, he’d be able to convince Gerard to be with him. 

“Is there a reason you guys haven’t tried that yet?” Ray’s voice snapped Frank out of his daydream that almost went too far. Scarlet and Charlotte exchanged a nervous look and laugh before addressing the question.

“We just weren’t sure if those RV’s were clear of zombies or not so we figured it would be safer in here,” Scarlet began.

“Our boss was helping us, it was the three of us left, that’s how we have these.” The girls held up their weapons before Charlotte continued. “He had a bat, we just aren’t sure where it went… Before he turned, he asked us to…”

“Y’know,” Scarlet put her thumb to her throat before slicing across it. “So we brought him outside, thinking we’d keep the blood outside and not contaminate anything else in here. Right when we were about to do the deed,”

“We realized we totally forgot the gun.” When Charlotte took over again, Frank felt a pulse behind his eye and his whole skull cap THUMPed… THUMPed… “So we had to go back inside,”

“Find the guns,” Scarlet pointed out.

“Find the guns,” Charlotte reiterated dramatically. “Then go back outside,”

“And LITERALLY old yeller the guy. So, we head back outside, right?” 

“We round the corner where we left him and BOOM!” The four men each jumped at the same time as Charlotte yelled in their faces. 

“He’s totally gone.” Scarlet tightened her lips in disappointment. “So, obviously, we weren’t going to just sit outside and wait to be eaten.”

“HELL no. We came back in, hunkered back down in here and watched outside for a little bit before we saw him drag his ancient feet across the green.” The girls stopped talking, looking satisfied with their story.  

"Well." Ray broke the silence that lasted too long. "We can take care of him before we leave,"

"Are you guys thinking about leaving already?" Charlotte interrupted, looking around panicked.

"We don't have to come with you, but we need help getting our boss!" Scarlet pleaded.

"Yeah, we wanna at least fulfill his wish before we lose your help..." Charlotte added.

"We definitely aren't leaving yet," Gerard said. "And we aren't opposed to you guys coming with," Frank noticed Mikey roll his eyes and slump against a wall. "But, we'll definitely need a bigger car, so breaking into those RV's might be our only option..." Gerard pondered out loud while the two girls exclaimed excitedly together.

As soon as the room quieted down, Frank's stomach growled, he keeled over a little with embarrassment but they had not made enough food for him to get more before they left this morning. God dammit... Everyone turned to look at him.

"We'll go to the kitchen next." Scarlet walked out the door before anyone could say anything, and they all followed, twisting through only a couple doors. The kitchen was huge, bigger than the rooms they were sleeping in, and all of the appliances were stainless steel.

Multiple refrigerators and bread racks held buckets worth of food. Some prepped foods sat waiting to be put together, an entire parties worth of premade and wrapped dinners also took up most of one of the refrigerators. "We've basically been living off of these," Scarlet handed one up to Frank, he was the shortest one in the group but Scarlet made him feel tall, she barley made it to his chest with the top of her head.

He pulled the saran wrap off the plate to see a pile of mashed potatoes, a smaller pile of mixed vegetables, and three breaded pork chops laying neatly half off the last one. Scarlet continued to hand out the pre-made dinners to everyone, including Charlotte, who took two, most likely so Scarlet could eat as well. No one denied the food, Scarlet pointed to a set of three microwaves all stacked next to a bread baking oven that they all convened around as they warmed the food.

Over dinner, Gerard and Ray explained everything they knew about the virus to Scarlet and Charlotte much like they had to Frank the first night he was with them. This time Frank added his own story of how he woke up  in a hotel room with two of his dead coworkers, Charlotte 'aww'-ed but Frank shut it down saying he barley knew them, he was just afraid he had killed someone. He chuckled at himself but no one else responded how he thought they would, he cleared his throat  and got up, putting his plate into a sink that already had a few empty plates it in, left them there as they continued the conversation.

[sulfurousdreamscapes]

Passing by my grand-uncle's room, I thought I heard the tinge of a piano melody, but I couldn't be sure because it was a noisy evening. Outside blared loud trumpets, crashing drums, and a singer who made his living from one wedding to another. Definitely no pianos in this cacophony.

My grand-uncle sat with his back to me, and I noticed blue letters and numbers on the stereo he kept by the wall. I stepped in with a knock, but I don't think he heard it through all the noise.

I had no business in his room, but everyone else in the house were out to dance at the festival. Finding someone who didn't join them was a relief, even if they were maybe sixty, seventy years older than me.

With one hand on the opposite shoulder, I bent to greet the man, only to find that he had his eyes closed. Would it be appropriate to put a finger under his nose? The stereo switched to the next song. I took a seat on the wooden chair and leaned against the window to its side.

My grand-uncle was unperturbed when he opened his eyes to find me watching him. Out of some modesty, I turned around to look at the lawn. Mother twirled and clapped. My older sister laughed with her head thrown back. The punch bowl was almost empty.

"Everyone's down there, having fun," I said to my grand-uncle. Left the conversational door open for him.

He made a motion with his hand, as if throwing away trash.

"What are you listening to here? I can barely hear the music over the noise outside."

He pulled out a CD jewel case and handed it to me with a shaking, vein-ridged hand. He tapped the case when I took it in my hands.

"Real music is in the mind," he said, hoarsely.

On the cover of the CD, I saw a photograph of New York City that looked like it was taken in maybe the 1970s or 1980s. The artist's name was unfamiliar.

"You're still playing it," I said. A little bit of cheek is endearing to old people, or so I thought at the time.

"I play it every day. Today is no different."

"It must hold a lot of memories for you."

My grand-uncle's gaze turned sharp. "Say that again."

"I said it must hold a lot of memories for you."

He looked at my feet, so I did too, and I didn't see anything special about them. "That's exactly it," he said. "The music stole memories from me. Snatched them right from under my nose. Now it won't give it back. I play the music again and again, and now I know every note, and it still won't give them back."

"How would you want them back?"

"If they were mine again, I would listen to this," he said, tapping the CD case, "And it would be fresh again. Nothing from before. Nothing bad, nothing good, nothing nostalgic. But the music won't let it go. It holds the memory in front of me, dangles it like a chicken drumstick, and I'm the faithful dog, barking and drooling. Like an idiot."

I gave my uncle the CD case back. "You want the memory back so you can forget it."

He made the trash-throwing motion again. "Never mind. You won't get it. No one ever seems to get it."

I nodded at him and spent some time listening to the mix of the low piano in the room and the loud brass outside. Finally, it made sense to me.

"You don't want the memory back. You want the music back."

My grand-uncle had his eyes closed again, and I couldn't tell if he was asleep or not.

[sunshinetheo]

LITTLE THINGS THAT REMIND ME OF ENHYPEN

warnings: mention of food and drink (jay, jungwon, niki) — word count: 1,059.

LEE HEESEUNG. a late night walk

a spontaneous walk that you decided to take when the air in your home got too stuffy. there was a park nearby, always feeling inviting to you when you walked towards it. the kittens that were recently born are one of the only sounds you hear other than the rustle and bustle of the world around you. you bend down to pet them, smiling at their cuteness, each of them having individually adorable features. heeseung's there with you, holding your hand every step of the way, making sure to keep you warm.  he hands you the snacks you brought for the little babies, smiling as you feed each of them, making sure they're all equal. he's attentive to your needs, but once again it's a quiet moment, you're able to enjoy the world and see how beautiful the things around you are.

PARK JONGSEONG. a rainy day

a rainy day by a big window, candles and incense lit as you write down your thoughts, organizing your mind and just allowing yourself mental release after a long week. the scents that you chose delicately hit your nose, creating a perfect harmony, it creates a perfect environment. it was around 6 pm, the sun had set a little while before but it didn't make much of a change as the sun was drowned out by thick clouds in the sky. the rustling of the trees continuously catches your eyes through the window every now and then. jay, your boyfriend is nearby, allowing you to think, allowing you the comfortable silence that he never minded. he checks up on you every now and then but he remains quiet a majority of the time, not wanting to keep you from letting go. he brings you a cup of tea, coffee, water, whatever it is you want to drink and he places a kiss on your lips before finding his spot near you once again, probably dozing off soon after. 

SIM JAEYUN. shopping together

you look around the small boutique, noticing the amount of variety there is. it seems that the smaller the area, the more detail there is. necklaces, bracelets, cds, tapes, lots of organized randomness. jake focuses his attention on a small item, analyzing it fully. you guys make eye contact eventually, smiling widely at each other despite wearing masks. other people push past the two of you at times but the surroundings aren't too busy. you join him on the other side of the table, watching as he points out each delicate item in the store. his puppy-like energy comes through in times like this, he's your entertainment always. the sun would have just started setting, the big windows allowing the golden sun to perfectly light up the now antique, magical looking items inside the store. 

PARK SUNGHOON. riding public transportation

the city is big, there's lots to see and lots going on at all times. it's dark but things are lit up all around you, the lights from nearby homes and stores light up your boyfriend's face as you two rush to catch your ride. he holds your hand and leads you, making sure to part the way before allowing you to pass through. once on the subway, bus, train, whatever the case may be, there's not many people as you guys stayed out quite late and are catching the last bit of people who are out currently. some people are sleeping while some people are working late on their laptops, probably cursing under their breath at the jobs they can't help but return to. you share body heat with the boy next to you, leaning against one another for warmth, taking in the scent of each other's perfumes. 

KIM SUNOO. really late nights

it's not even particularly that you couldn't, or didn't want to sleep this night, it's just one of those nights where sleep didn't seem to happen. you would normally be scrolling through your phone hoping to fall asleep eventually but this time you weren't. nothing felt real during these hours of the day, it felt almost wrong to be awake. the silence outside was almost so loud, the birds that usually chirp outside your window were sound asleep. sunoo slept nearby, small snores leaving his nose. he stirred in his sleep for a moment, eventually waking up and joining you to enjoy the silence of the world, even if it was just for a brief moment. you guys cuddled up together just enjoying the cloudy feeling of the world around you. 

YANG JUNGWON. sharing headphones and watching the sunset

you'd come to your favorite spot together, a small park a little while away from your home. not many people come here, it's a small community where elderly people and those who raise animals prefer to live. the two of you drank delicious drinks that you'd picked up from somewhere along the way. the sun was coming down slowly, the colors adorning your skin. jungwon sat down, patting the spot next to him and leaning against you as he sipped his drink. he pulled his headphones out of his bag, placing one side in his ear and trying his hardest to properly place the other in yours. he smiled and chuckled a little at his slight failed attempt, letting himself enjoy the gentle tunes that filled your ears. the life around you was gentle, the dogs running and playing with their owners, the butterflies flying around, and the bees making their rounds, everything was so beautiful. 

NISHIMURA RIKI. walking around a festival/fair

lots of people gathered at events like these, specifically at night since many people believe they're best at that time, you and niki included. there's much to see when you enter, the smell of the various food booths hitting your noses, the colorful lights dancing on your skin. you held niki's hand, trying not to lose him in the crowd as you shuffled around the both of you shouting out what rides you both wanted to try out. you guys share all the food you end up buying, both too excited over everything, letting curiosity control you. the sky is dark every time you look up at it, but that makes it so much more interesting, nights like this always tend to have the calmest skies. your surroundings may be chaotic but the sky isn't. 

[venomous--fics]

Anon requested: Read your Peter B Parker imagine and loved it! Maybe where the reader goes off to college and MJ and Peter drop them off finally and MJ and Peter miss them way more than they admit so eventually when the reader visits they go all out, (side note: I have lived in an abusive household all my life and you have no idea the comfort your imagines have brought me every time i have another fight with my parents I read this series, you are so insanely talented, thank you so much, your writing means so much more to me than you will ever know :))

A/N: I hope everything is going okay for you!! And I hope I did your request justice!

Life really moves fast, they weren't joking. It felt like you were in middle school just a few months ago, but here you are...College. Didn't think you'd even go to college, but Peter and Mj told you to at least try it. If you didn't like it, you could leave, they said. They'd support you no matter what.

And here they were, doing just that. They were helping you carry your bags to your dorm. It felt so out of place being here. Everyone seemed to come from every sort of background. Rich, already semi famous, smart, geeky. You weren't sure if anyone was the same as you. What would roommate be like? Did you even have one?

Peter and Mj couldn't help but look around. Was this the right place for you? Would any of the teacher be able to teach you exactly what you needed in a way that you'd understand? They know how professors could be.

After you got your key from the front desk, you three crowded into an elevator. Everything did seem so sparkly and new, but would it be homey? Would you be comfortable?

Another trip down the hall put you in front of your door. You opened it, to be greeted with a small, empty space. Of course, they had the standard things already in there. A bed. A desk. The works.

"It's...Something." Mj said.

"I'd give it at least two stars." Peter replied, "It's no Ritz, I'll tell you that."

"I think it'll work." you tried to be optimistic for them, "It just needs some sprucing up."

You tossed your bag onto your bed and opened it.

This was really happening. You weren't going to ride home with them. You were...Staying here. Look at you go. Making all the big decisions now. It's almost like you weren't some lame kid anymore.

You dug out a CD player and plugged it in, setting it on the small night table that was situated next to the bed, "I thought we could fill the silence."

Peter and Mj helped you unpack most of your things, leaving stuff such as your electronics off to the side. You could sort through those later.

You three hung out for awhile after, until they thought it was time for them to leave. That's when it dawned on you too. You didn't get to make jokes on the car ride back. You had to be a big kid now and stay put.

"I guess this is it for awhile." you said, patting your hands down to your sides.

"Yep. This is it." Peter said.

Mj tried to smile, but you knew what she was really feeling. it wasn't sorrow, it was just a bittersweet feeling. You were putting on a strong façade for them, but if one of them frowned all bets were off.

"So, uh, I guess...Goodbye."

Mj couldn't help it anymore. She practically burst into tears as she pulled you into a hug, "I'm going to miss you so much, sweetheart!"

Peter followed suit, tears and all, "Don't like this place too much!"

You hugged them back the best you could, sobbing uncontrollably, "I'm going to miss you more!"

You three cried together for awhile, blubbering and sputtering out all the "I love you mom! You too, dad!" over and over until it just sounded like gurgling. You were certain a few people stopped to stare.

After they left your dorm, you hustled to your window, praising whoever assigns these things, for giving you a front view. You opened the window and waved as they left. You kept waving until they were out of sight.

You nearly laughed at that memory. It was so silly, but you'd hope to have more like that. Maybe they'd react that way when you came in. It's been nearly a year since you've been home, and you had so much to tell them. You had a week off for a holiday break, and you wasted no time to come home.

You missed the home cooked meals honestly. Again, they weren't kidding when they told you that a college kids diet wasn't good. You can't remember the last real meal you had that didn't include something from the gas station.

Your keys jingled as you stuck them in the lock and twisted the knob.

The second your foot step through the doorway, you were blasted with confetti and loud noises from what sounded like dying birds. Were those noise makers? You covered your face as more confetti flew at you. It was all over you now. In your hair, clinging to your nose from the static. At least it wasn't glitter.

"What in the world?" you asked, setting your bag down.

"Welcome home!"

Mj ran right over and pulled you to the kitchen island, showing off the cake her and Peter made for you. It was decorated so nicely, and had candle lit on the top. You blew them out and looked up at her as she stuck a party hat on your head.

"Were you two waiting there the whole time?"

"Are you asking if we waited behind the counter for three hours? Yes, we did." Peter said, digging a knife out of one of the drawers.

"Did we spend all day cooking and decorating? Yes, we did!" Mj smiled, "We were just so excited to see you again."

You looked around, seeing all the ribbons and signs adorn everywhere. Then your eyes landed on a few wrapped presents, "This is nuts. Even for you guys."

"What can we say." Mj chirped, "We love you. And we're so proud! When you called us about that exam a while back? I would've given up, everything is so much more advanced now."

"But look at you." Peter chimed in, helping himself to the cake, "You did it. Made it look easy, too."

"It wasn't. I can tell you that."

"So, how long until you get locked back up?" he asked.

"I got a week off."

Mj's heart seemed to take flight as she whipped out another confetti popper and set it off, "Wonderful!"

You really did miss this. Everything away from home seemed so boring and exhausting to be around. But this? Wouldn't trade it for the world.

"Oh!" she said, waking over to the oven, "I have dinner ready if you're hungry."

"Starving." you said, "I missed lunch because I was just too eager to get back here."

You helped Mj set the table, and stopped Peter from taking even more cake.

You three sat at the table and talked for hours. You made sure to leave no details out, and they were just in awe at all you've done, and all that you will do. You were the future, and they were content with knowing it'd be a good one.

You made sure to help with the dishes, and also made sure to help yourself to the cake, per Mj's request. A few movies were watched, with conversations continuing on and off. And when everyone retired to bed for the night, you had never felt so at peace.

It was so nice to be home.

You nestled under your blankets and turned your lamp off. If only you could stay here forever.

[vendettaparker]

Dancing With Your Ghost [P.P]

Summary: Every night you’re visited by a ghost from the past.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: ANGST TO THE MAX, smoking, alcohol, swearing

a/n: this is probably the most depressing thing i’ve written. it’s just all sad, no happy ending, no fluff, sorry! :/ loosely based off the song “Dancing with your Ghost” by Sasha Sloan, which was like my fav song for a whole ass month. it’s a really good song, highly recommend :)

            •───⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

     11:47. Fuck. You’re going to be late. You waved down the bartender and held up two fingers, signaling for two more beers. It’s fine, you could surely be late just this once. He’d forgive you, right? He always did. You finished the last few sips of your previous beer just as the bartender came to you with two more clutched in his hands. You dropped a $50 in front of him and started leisurely sipping your next beer, slowly feeling your sense of reality fade away. 

     Another half hour and you’d finished both beers. Stumbling slightly, you got up and started your trek back to your dingy Queens apartment. You only lived a few blocks from the bar so you made in home what seemed like record time, but who could really tell when you were two shots away from blacking out. The smell of weed, smoke, and old books filled your nose when you entered your apartment. The old book smell had always been a part of you. You were supposed to be an english major, in fact, this would have been your second year of your bachelors. What a fucking waste. Guess whatever talent you had in english didn’t do you any good. The weed and smoke were new scents that always seemed to follow you. After the incident you couldn’t just talk about your feelings like everyone else had. That didn’t nearly calm the throbbing in your chest or the screaming in your head. You needed something more. Something to make the world go quiet. 

     You walked around piles of laundry and old take out containers to make your way to your room, no doubt where the smell was the strongest. You walked into the room and closed the door behind you, pushing a towel in the crack between the door and the floor to prevent any draft from getting in. You then went to your window and locked it, doing the same with smaller dish rags. No drafts. That’s the only way to know that it’s real. That he’s really there. 

     You scrambled around the room a bit more in your drunken haze and found the disk for your old favorite song. His favorite song too. You put it in the CD player and let the album play a few songs while you searched in the mess of books and dust for a pack of cigarettes. You found a half empty pack just as the song you were waiting for started to play. The soft jazz melody floated through the air and you lit a cigarette, breathing it in slowly, feeling your nerves slightly calm. Talking to him always made you nervous, even when you both could practically feel the love you had for one another, he still made your stomach do somersaults. 

     Just as the first line of the song was echoing through the room, you felt it. The light breeze encompassing your body. He was here. 

     You sat on the bed and waited for him to give you a sign again. It only took a few moments for a slight dip in your bed to appear beside you. Any other person would’ve never even noticed the change, but not you, you were too attentive, too desperate to believe he was there. The temperature in the room had dropped significantly and you held your knees to your chest to preserve body heat, all while looking at the little dip in the comforter. 

     “Peter,” you sighed, smiling softly at the empty space where he would be. “Sorry, I know I’m late.” 

     Your words into the void were only met with silence, they always were though. You sniffled and took another drag from your cigarette. “Just been real hard, y’know? I can’t seem to sleep without a drink or two. I just don’t like how loud everything is.” You shrugged, once again only met with silence. The dip in the bed remained, not wavering in the slightest. 

     You sighed, once again feeling defeated not being able to hear his voice or words of encouragement. “You never let me say goodbye y’know.” You said, casually. “I came to the hospital three times that week. Stayed for over four hours each time. I didn’t—I didn’t know you had already left. Nobody told me jack shit.” Tears of frustration and anguish welled  up in your eyes. Still, you were only met with silence. The song that sifted through the room had stopped and the album continued on. 

     “I know I shouldn’t say this, but, why’d you do it? Huh? Why couldn’t you have just saved yourself? Just this once.” You sniffled. “I know, it’s selfish to say that. But I just—” you huffed out a short sob, “love is a selfish thing, I suppose. Cus’ you know I’d do anything to have you back. Anything.”

     You wallowed in the silence for the next couple of minutes, taking a drag of your cigarette here and there. 

     “I think I’m going insane.” You finally said. “I mean, I’m talking to myself, thinking that you’re really here listening.” You wiped your tired eyes and looked at the dip in the bed more intently. “But you are here, aren’t you? You’d never disappoint me by not showing up, right?” 

     You shifted around on the bed, finally settling on laying on your back, head turned to continue to stare at the dip. 

     “Even if I am crazy and I’m talking to myself right now, can you blame me? I was finally happy and it only lasted a few months. Of course I’d be off the rails by now.” You stated, trying to think logically if all these ‘encounters’ with Peter had only been in your head. 

     “Doesn’t matter anyways. It’s better tricking myself into believing you’re here than knowing you’re not.” Your eyes started to droop no matter how desperately you wanted to keep them opened to continue your conversation. 

     “Peter, I’m so tired.” You sighed, closing your eyes, sticky with tears. “If I go to sleep, promise you’ll visit again?” 

     Your mind started falling, slowly plummeting into a deep state of unconsciousness. You hummed out more unintelligible nonsense in a feeble attempt to stay awake. Just before the lights in your mind went completely out, you heard a soft, barely there voice come for the dip in the bed, 

     “Promise.”

[feelin-woozy]

Title: With Teeth Word Count: 1852 Pairing: Bo Sinclair / Reader Warnings: Gender-neutral reader

[ Ao3 Link | Previous ] 1997

The sound of some soft rock ballad fills the air around you, the bass gently thrumming through the marred wooden bartop. The waitress comes and sets the beer you ordered down in front of you. She doesn’t bother with a coaster, not when the bar is already littered with water rings. You express your thanks just loud enough to be heard over the music before you let your mind begin to wander once more.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Your ears instantly perk up at the sound of that voice. It’s a sound so familiar to you yet equally as foreign after years of not hearing it. It’s better than you remember; it fills you with the warmth of memories of your misspent youth. But guilt swiftly taints the softness shifting into something jagged and painful as it settles.

Turning your head, your eyes are met with a familiar face. He looks older but close enough to what you recall a seventeen year-old Bo Sinclair to look like. You catch the faint white lines of scars against his skin, and you wonder what he did to get those. You wonder if he let his brothers patch him back up. His eyes are that familiar crystalline blue, the anger is still there, but you can tell that he’s learned to hide it better. Even after all these years, you can see past his facade. He smells similar to how you remember, too, the stench of cigarettes heavy in his clothing, but there’s something new to his scent. You think it might be motor oil.

“Bo?” You say dumbly, staring at him with an almost starstruck expression. Your cheeks flush a soft pink when you realize that perhaps you had been staring at him for too long as you gathered your thoughts.

It wasn’t as if you hadn’t intended to return to Ambrose; you did, but every time you thought about it, something would come up. Your parents’ divorce had been the first reason that you hadn’t returned, though in hindsight, going then would’ve been perfect for escaping their drama. And then you got a promotion at work, and it was hard to find time off. Then there were the partners that came and went in your life. And as time ticked on, the idea of going back felt awkward; after all, by then, well over six years had passed.

Ambrose had become your own Garden of Eden, the whimsical youth that contorts your memories of the town, making it seem closer to paradise than the concrete jungle you found yourself in these days. It was a town you were tossed out of, albeit unwillingly, but it always felt that there was no going back. Ambrose had become nothing more than a footnote in your life.

You weren’t even sure if Ambrose was still there. Last you heard, the Sugarmill had shut down, and that was the only thing there that breathed life into the town. A part of you hoped it was lost to changing times, nothing but a ghost town filled with memories of better days and dark secrets. You hoped that Bo really did get out like he said he would.

“One an’ only.” Bo slots himself onto the stool next to you; the worn vinyl creaks beneath his weight. A hand curled around his glass of beer. It was already half empty. You wonder how you hadn’t noticed him when you had first entered the bar. “How ya been? It’s been what? Ten years?”

The way he says it makes the already sown guilt bloom into something plentiful. You can’t help but frown.

“Hey now,” Bo leans forward, lips twisting just slightly. The look he gives you sparks a familiar in the pit of your stomach, and you know he’s toying with you. He’s testing you and seeing how much you’ve changed. “I get it, shits different out here than back home. So tell me, how has it been?”

You eye him carefully for a moment before you let out a small huff of air and a bitter laugh. “Can I be honest with you, Bo? Shit fuckin’ sucks.”

He takes a slow drink from the glass, staring at you with a raised brow. “City life not all it’s cracked up to be?”

“It’s not, but I’m a contributing member to society now so I have that going for me. Guess you weren’t as bad as my mom thought you were.” You flash him a smirk, and he returns it with a slight curve at the corner of his lips. “Are you living in the city now too?”

“No. Vin, Lester an’ I are still in Ambrose.” He shrugs his shoulders before his eyes dart off to the clock on the far side of the wall before they meet yours again. “Was just about to start headin’ back home, then I heard your pretty little voice.”

“Really?” You kick yourself for the way your words drip with disappointment. It was at that moment you realized just how much you had missed Bo. The thought of leaving him once more made knots form in your stomach. You shift on the barstool, fingers drumming along the countertop before you swallow the lump in your throat and speak, “Shame. Think I could convince you to come back to my place tonight?”

“Mm.” Something flickers within Bo’s eyes at your words, and the curve of his lips transforms into something more wolfish. It’s a look that you know your mother would disapprove of. “You in the habit of pickin’ strangers up from bars often?”

“No, so consider yourself special.”

_____

It’s strange yet familiar having Bo Sinclair in your tiny little apartment. It reminds you of the times that he had snuck in through the window when you were teenagers. Where you would lay together on the small twin mattress, legs dangling off the side of the bed while listening to whatever music he decided to show you next.

With arms crossed over your chest, you watch as Bo’s eyes dart around your living room, his eyes moving over every last detail of your place. As if he was trying to relearn who you were through the possessions that you kept. You move past him and into your kitchen. You grab two glasses from the cabinet before setting them down next to the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“So, what do you do, Bo? Last I heard Ambrose dried right up.” You ask, grabbing the liquor and pouring a moderate amount into each glass. His eyes turn to you, away from the collection of CDs that rest neatly on a shelf, and he smiles. A smile that leaves the hairs on the back of your neck to rise and gooseflesh to rise along your skin. It doesn’t help when he moves towards the edge of the counter opposite to you, reaching over and grabbing the glass. You watch the amber liquid squish as he brings it up to his lips.

“I kill people.” It’s said like a joke, but with the look in his eyes and that damn smile, you know that it’s far from it. It’s not a very funny joke either. You’re almost relieved to have the counter separating the two of you, but you know that if he were going to do something, that wouldn’t stop him.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” You ask, watching his adam’s apple bob as he drinks. You mirror the movement, taking a sip of your own and nearly draining the half-filled glass in one go. It burns on the way down.

“That scare you?” He asks with a quirked brow as he sets the glass down.

You think for a moment as you stare at him unblinking. You would be lying if you said it didn’t, but at the same time, there’s something about it that just makes sense. It’s like all the warning signs were there from the start, he had always been a recipe for disaster, and this was the outcome. Your mother warned you that there was something wicked about him. You finish the rest of your whiskey before slamming the glass down against the granite countertop. “No.”

“You’ve always been stupid, know that? Since we were fuckin’ kids. It should scare you.” He rests his palms on the counter, the top half of his body overtaking the counter and encroaching on your space. You fight the urge to recoil. You notice the way his eyes sparkle, that mean look that never scared you as a child, suddenly making your blood run cold. But you steel your nerves, and just like when you were a child, you decide to sink to his level and lean in with a mean look of your own.

Bo laughs, the sound rumbling somewhere deep within his chest and bouncing off walls that box you in. His eyes narrow, and his lips curl up in the faintest of snarls. “You’re fucked up, real fucked in the head.” He spits the words at you, the top of his lips baring his teeth as spittle flies, and you can’t help but smile at him. You know Bo’s goading you, trying to make you see him for the monster he thinks he is, for you to think twice and back down, so he has an excuse to bash your head in against the countertop.

Bo wants to watch you bleed as you slip up and cut yourself on his edges. He’s waiting for the moment he can remind you just how mean he can be.

“And you love it.” You’ve said a lot of stupid things over your life, but you think this might be your magnum opus. It makes Bo’s face falter, eyes widening just a bit as his jaw goes slack. The gears are turning in his head; you can see the way he tries to process what you’ve said.

Bo Sinclair has his edges sharpened through years of hurt and trauma. You can only imagine they’ve gotten more jagged since the time you’ve last seen him, especially if what he said was true. But even now, even after all these years, you still manage to shock him with your unconditional positive regard. Your willingness to hit a home run every time he throws a curveball at you.

You’re banking on the fact that you have history to keep you safe because if you were anyone else, if you hadn’t known each other since you were eating bugs or using sticks as swords or sharing a drunken kiss just to see what it was like, you would be bleeding out over the cold off white linoleum. In some fucked up way, you think that maybe, just maybe, the two of you were made for each other.

His mouth opens and closes like a fish as he stares at you. With each passing second, the smile on your face twists and contorts a little, and for the first time in nearly ten years, you feel closer to yourself than you have since you left Ambrose.

“Yeah, I do.”

[skepticalkoi-catastrophe]

|Come Closer| Kuroo Tetsurou x Blackfem!reader

The following fanfic is an inspired spin-off of Deciphered by @hoeneymilktea , The Sunrise and Your Sins by @leia505 , and fanart by @aikk00 . Pls check them out as well as other spin-off authors. Comments, Reblogs, and Shares are heavily appreciated. I hope you enjoy~ ♡

Chapter [001] Flewed Out

Next Chapter 》

You stand on your toes waiting down the escalator, peering around the Tokyo International Airport. People of all walks of life gather their belongings from the baggage claim. Daize, who you just texted, swore she drove here before you landed.

Holding tightly to the handle of your suitcase, you anxiously sigh.

"Don't tell me she's late..."

To your relief, you spot her as she waved her hands rapidly. She rushes in your direction as you hug her.

"Talk about an entrance." You laugh pulling away. "It's been too long, Dai."

"Yeah a year and eight months too long. C'mon. Let's get you home."

The last thing you wanted was to be inside the airport another second. Once arriving at parked car, Daize helps with your luggage as Ms.Onishi peeks her head out the driver's seat window.

"Glad you have you back kiddo!"

Not really all that attentive to the drive you lean back watching the traffic blur. It took some thought to register for Tokyo University of the Arts. Back in the States, it was no surprise to your parents but ultimately it was a shot in the dark that you'd see him again. Time flew by, but the fireworks were just as loud. Just as bright.

You couldn't help but think about it. He had likely forgotten all about you. Staying in contact with him didn't last long after he finally graduated. Neither of you made a means of trying to revive it. Yet, you'd admit you are still hopeful.

We pull into the driveway, the front porch wind chimes singing. Daize unloads your luggage, bringing it around the car. Ms.Onishi takes off to the front door.

Nostalgia hits the soles of your feet as you remove your shoes at the genkan and put on your house slippers. Botanicals hang from the ceiling with potted plants sitting upon shelves. Its interior rustic decor as far as the eye can see.

Ms.Onishi's hand rest on your shoulder.

"Welcome home y/n"

The polished floorboards still creaked with each step you took wheeling your luggage to your room at the far end of the hall. Daize, following behind, opens your door for you. Your bed, white bookcase, and desk in their spots from before. Nothing much has changed. Even your wall-mounted CD player was still right above your nightstand.

"We tried keeping it how you left it." Daize says, switching the hallway lights on.

You put your suitcase on the floor unzipping it. A familiar routine you've followed countless times before. The Onishi's were your second family somewhat a means of escape from your real one back home.

Memories like the laughs you'd share, tears for every drop of rain on your windowpane, the music you'd play. Nights you'd stare at the ceiling counting down the days when summer would end. When you'd leave it all behind. But for the next four years you'd be staying.

Daize leads against your doorway.

"It's all coming back, huh?"

Unloading your possessions, you sigh.

"Yeah, something like that. It feels like just yesterday I was a high school freshman."

"No kidding," She stands straight folding her arms. "How's about we catch up over some boba? You can finish unpacking later."

Daize sits across from you in the booth. Placing the serving tray on the table, she hands you your drink. You take a sip, your cheek resting in the palm of your hand.

"Your taste hasn't changed." Your Matcha Brown Sugar Deerioca resting on the table. The Alley was your go-to spot during hot summers, mostly to gossip.

"Neither has yours." Her drinking The Alley Trio Milk Tea. "I would've killed to have one of these a year ago."

Ploping down, she stabs her straw into her drink. Location by Khalid playing in the background.

"You nervous about Uni? My mom told me you have a full ride scholarship." Daize gently nudges your ankle with the tip of her foot.

"It's more excitement than nervousness." You stir your drink with your straw. "Turns out I wasn't the only foreign exchange student this year."

Daize never made you feel lonely as a foreigner. From day one she made it her business to teach you the ropes but was never afraid to get her hands dirty at the drop of a hat.

"Regardless, I'm proud of you." Her doe eyes soften. She holds your hand. "You deserve it."

You nod, squeezing her hand back as a thank you. Daize's eyebrows perk upward.

"This calls for celebration! Me. You. Tonight. Let's do it!"

It never dawned on you to do much other than grab some drinks and chill. But knowing Daize, things were going to get hectic.

"Aight, I'm listenin'. What do you have in mind?"

She clears her throat for dramatic effect.

"Well, my boss was invited to an event and he said I can bring a plus one. That plus one being you."

Your Deerioca finally empty, you lean your elbows on the table. "Does your mom know?"

"Not exactly.... I told her we'd be home by 1:00am. 1:30am at the latest." A grin from ear to ear spread across her face. "They'll be familiar faces so we won't be alone."

You shake your head, chuckling. What's the worse that could happen?

"Fuck it. I'm in."

Spray-painted asphalt and singed tires mixed with laughter from people lining the streets echo. Flamboyant-colored cars are parked closely by what looks like a starting line. Scantily dressed girls roam about, making blending in easier.

You both walk through the crowd, hands by at your sides. Your baby blue lace trim mini cami dress compliments your white Air Force 1s. Diamond studs in your ears and a white bandana on your head.

"Looks like all of Japan was invited, too." Daize says, walking beside you.

Her attire a black short sleeve button down and dark ripped acid wash jeans. Silver chains dangling from her belt and platform sandals on her feet.

"No kiddin'. Reminds me of block parties back home."

Music blared from the DJ booth as people danced with their drinks in their hands. Some smoking cigarettes and joints. Bets were being placed them pointing at different cars. Possibly their drivers.

"Who's your boss, anyway? And why was he invited to a car meet?"

Near the end of the lot, groups of guys were split up into sections. Each wearing their respective colors. You're visibly tense though you keep your cool, your vision staying forward.

"Just a bit further and you'll get your answer."

The ground trembles at the bass and growling engines. You're shocked that cops haven't shut this party down yet.

Three men stand off to the side of the starting line. Their other group members stand around them as two taller ones are having a conversation. With closer inspection, you relax when you realize who it was.

"Iwa? Flatty-kawa?"

Other members around them notice you two instantly, giving skeptical looks. Clad in white and turquoise bomber jackets, the words 'Seijoh Brawlers' written on their backs. Iwaizumi turns around, followed by Oikawa at the aforementioned nicknames.

Oikawa exhales, the caramel scent of his e-cigarette escapes his lips as he spoke.

"Oh shit! Y/n?" He pulls you in for a low waist hug, letting go so he could get a gander at you. "Long time no see little cutie."

"Girly's all grown up now." Iwaizumi teases, hugging you as well.

It's been a while since you last saw them. Your old friends now young adults following their paths. Though, something about this 'event' and it's participants didn't sit right with you.

"As grown as I can be, Iwa. What are y'all doin' here?"

Kenma appears and looks Daize's way, offering you a small wave and smile. Something he usually did whenever you saw each other.

"I was starting to think you weren't going to show, Haymaker."

Kenma straightens his stance as Daize steps in front of you, putting her hands in yours.

"Suprise! I'm a mechanic in training." Your eyebrows raise as she continues. "Turns out all that time in the garage with mom wasn't a waste."

You remember nights where you'd hear Ms.Onishi and Daize talk about car parts and such while you sketched. It never made sense at first. In time, you understood enough to ask questions and take notes.

"He and Cypher were scouting out recruits during a race last summer and both Indigo and I were hired. Under some conditions of course."

You stood perplexed as to respond. On one hand, you were proud. On the other hand, you were hoping she'd get a less potentially dangerous job. Ms.Onishi has told us countless stories of how she doesn't want her daughter following in her past footsteps after returning her title. The apple dosen't fall from the tree.

"Hol' up, hol' up. Why didn't you tell me sooner, Daize?" You ask, leaning on the hood of Oikawa's car. "And who's Cypher?."

"Real names aren't allowed on track. That's why we go by tag names. I'm 'Haymaker'. Oikawa and Iwazumi are 'Cypher' and 'Indigo'.

Oikawa exhales once again. "DK is gonna lose his shit when he sees you."

You were just about to ask who that was when hollering from the crowd grew louder. Owners of their cars hopped in when a girl in short shorts went to the middle of the road with a white handkerchief in her hand.

"I'd hate to interrupt our small reunion but I'm up next to race."

Oikawa opens the driver's seat of his white Mazda RX-7 Veilside Fortune. He whispers in Daize's ear before he drives off to the starting line.

Without warning, Daize snatches your arm, leading you to the finish line. Kenma following close behind.

Tonight's main race was about to begin. A few worthy contestants, each a familiar face from the last entered their vehicles. Yet, one car drove slowly behind. A bright red 2002 Nissan 350Z pulled up to the finish line next to Oikawa's car.

"Dai what are you-?"

The girls' hand high in the sky, people cheering. "You know the rules everyone! No cheating, no tricks, no bullshit. Let's keep it a good clean race!"

The wind picks up, causing the handkerchief to move. Anticipation of the crowd could be felt everywhere.

Oikawa rolled down his window, yelling.

"Get ready to have your ass handed to you!"

"On your marks, get set..." Her eyes scanning the drivers.

"Nice try bastard! I'm not gunna let that happen!" The mystery driver yells back from their lowered but tinted window.

Those you once knew have been eaten by the underbelly of street racing. You never would've seen it coming. Now you were a witness. But you aren't prepared for what comes next.

"GO!" She swipes the handkerchief down. Their engines rev before darting out of their ideal positions. Everyone watches in awe at the front runners leading the chase, nothing but smoke left in their tracks.

An exhilarating adrenaline rush courses through your body. The thought of being behind the wheel was enough to make you faint.

What did you walk into?

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