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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

I wish you would write a fic where the gallaghers + kev & vee find out about ian's 87% comment and they all give their opinions and ask why mickey, ian's husband who's been a part of ian's life for nearly eleven years only gets 87% of his heart, if the other 13% goes towards his toxic exes and why since they're not in his life anymore, ian explaining himself and ends with ian taking the comment back so mickey has 100% of his heart

I decided this was perfect for Gallavich Week Day 5: Fix-It! Thanks as always to @gallavichthings for hosting💖. Also on AO3.

Eighty-Seven Percent (Anatomy of a Heart)

It was a normal morning in the Gallagher kitchen.

That is to say, it was chaotic.

Carl and Liam sat across from each other at the narrow table, tossing dry loops of off-brand cereal at each other over Franny’s backpack, which lay open between them. The girl herself was running circles around them both in her pajamas, Debbie chasing after her with a stern face and a frilly dress held in outstretched hands.

“Come on, Franny,” she muttered impatiently as her daughter evaded her again by diving under the table, “just put on the dress!”

Mickey laughed when Franny ran to him instead, trying to hide behind his legs where he stood by the brewing coffeemaker. Ian ruined her attempt by swinging her up into his arms and twirling her around until Debbie snatched her from him, resulting in an angry shriek as Franny writhed in her hold.

“For fuck’s sake, keep it down in here!” Lip hissed, coming in from the living room where Tami had just gotten Fred settled in his play pen. “If you get Fred crying again, I swear I’ll fucking end you all.”

If anything, the kitchen got louder as everyone there chimed in in their own defense.

Mickey just snorted as he grabbed two mugs and got to pouring the fresh coffee. “Good luck with that,” he offered to Lip, amused. “You get one Gallagher going, you get the whole fucking pack.”

Lip glared at him, opened his mouth the say something undoubtedly scathing and most likely regarding Mickey’s place in the family, when Carl laughed and chimed in from the table.

“Funny, man, that’s what Trevor said to me and Ian at the station yesterday.”

The room went quiet.

Or maybe it just seemed that way to Ian, who could see the way his husband’s back immediately tensed at the familiar name, the way he gripped the handle of his mug a little too tight and poured the coffee a little too high before setting down the pot with a hard clack.

“Trevor, huh?” Mickey asked, voice deceptively mild, and Ian winced behind him.

Carl didn’t get the memo.

“Yeah, you remember him, right?” he checked. “He still works at that youth place, came in to post bail for some kid when Ian was bringing by lunch.” He shrugged, tossed a handful of cereal into his mouth. “We chatted a bit,” he mumbled as he chewed.

Mickey gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles going white under his tattoos. “Funny,” he said quietly, “Ian didn’t think to mention that.”

Ian sighed, ignoring the eyes of his family on their quickly unfolding drama. They’d been fighting a lot lately, a lot more than they used to, and today had been shaping up to be better, damn it. Now he had to do damage control again instead of enjoying a quiet day in with his husband.

“We’ve talked about this, Mickey,” he started, a tad bit exasperated. It must have come through in his voice, because Mickey’s shoulders went up. “Trevor’s not a bad guy, and I’m not gonna avoid him if I see him around.”

Mickey released the counter to grab his coffee again, taking a long, scalding swallow. “Right,” he said finally, not looking at Ian. “Not a bad guy at all. Just wanted to leave your ass rotting in jail when you couldn’t be his poster boy anymore, that’s all.”

“Mickey…” Ian warned, but it didn’t stop him.

“Tell me, Ian,” Mickey mused, turning to face him with hard eyes. “How much of that thirteen percent belongs to him?”

Fuck. Not that again.

“Wait, what’s he talking about?” Debbie was the one to ask first, voice cutting through their palpable tension. She’d even stopped trying to force the dress over Franny’s head in the interim, allowing the girl to escape up the stairs unscathed. “What thirteen percent?”

“Oh yeah, he told me about that,” Lip butted in. “Said Mickey got all bent out of shape cause Ian still thinks about his exes, or something, right?”

Ian closed his eyes against the hurt in Mickey’s as his brother revealed that he knew about their squabble. Fuck his family right now, seriously.

“Not quite,” he gritted out, but when he opened his eyes again, Mickey had schooled his face back into disinterest.

“No, that’s just about it,” Mickey confirmed. “Got my nose out of joint because Ian, here,” he gestured at Ian with his mug, ignoring the hot coffee that splashed over the side, “said I only got eighty-seven percent of his heart.”

Someone whistled, low and long. Ian couldn’t tell who.

“It’s not that big a deal,” he insisted yet again. “My whole life is a fucking shrine to you, Mick. If my heart was a room, there’s be posters of you on every fucking wall.” He took a step closer, until Mickey’s mug pressed into his own chest, leaving a wet spot on his shirt.

“You really can’t let the others have a little space in that room? Not even in the bottom drawer of a dresser that nobody uses anyway?”

Mickey was still, and silent. Then he spun around and slammed his mug back down on the counter, shoved past Ian, and stormed off up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Ian called after him.

“To clean out the goddamn drawers!”

It was quiet in Mickey’s wake, and then—

“Dude, that’s fucked up,” Carl said frankly, and Liam nodded in agreement, eyes wide.

“Did you really say that?” Debbie asked, sounding horrified, and before Ian could answer the back door slammed open.

“Morning neighbors!” Vee greeted as she came through, Kev on her heels. She was holding something, a dish covered in foil, and a carton of juice hung from Kev’s hand.

“We brought you guys some…” Vee trailed off when no one even looked at her, noticing the tension in the room.

“Uh,” she voiced, confused, “what did we miss?”

Carl answered, still looking at Ian in disbelief. “Ian told Mickey he keeps stuff from his exes in a drawer, so Mickey’s up there looking for it.”

“Oh, that’s cold man,” Kev breathed, and Ian exhaled.

“It was a metaphor,” he muttered, and Vee heard him.

“A metaphor for what?” she asked, curious.

“For the thirteen percent of Ian’s heart that belongs to other people,” Debbie revealed, and Vee set down her dish with a clatter.

“You said that to him?” she clarified, and at Ian’s reluctant nod, shook her head and turned to Kev.

“You ever say shit like that to me,” she said firmly, “I’ll cut off thirteen percent of your dick.”

—

A few long minutes later, after he had finally escaped his family’s inquisition about the state of his relationship, Ian made his way upstairs, alone.

When he got to their bedroom, Mickey wasn’t actually going through their things. He was just sitting on their bed, back to the wall, spinning his wedding ring round and round on his finger. Next to him, balanced on their folded blanket, sat the little box with the fancy ones they used in the ceremony just so they wouldn’t have to take theirs off.

Ian’s heart beat harder. That box had been sitting safe in the bottom drawer of their shared dresser.

The one that nobody used.

“Hey,” he said softly from the doorway. Mickey didn’t look up.

“You okay?” Ian asked, and that at least got a response.

“Do I look fucking okay to you?” Mickey returned, eyes on his knees.

He didn’t. Not really. He looked haggard, and upset, his hair spiky where restless fingers had combed through it. Ian couldn’t see his eyes, but he had a feeling they were rimmed in red.

Ian let himself into the room, sat opposite Mickey on the bed with his feet still firmly on the floor. He reached out to trace a finger over the rings in the box, and then the ring on Mickey’s finger.

Mickey let his own hand fall away when he did.

“You know that’s not how I meant it, right?” Ian asked, suddenly desperate to hear Mickey agree. He needed to know that Mickey understood, that just because he remembered his past, it didn’t mean he wasn’t dedicated to his future.

But Mickey just shrugged.

“Not a lot of ways you can mean it,” he said, and shit. Ian had really fucked up this time. “Either I have your whole heart or I don’t,” Mickey continued, “and I don’t. So,” he shrugged again, “whatever.”

Ian took a moment. A long one. He thought of Mickey’s reaction the first time he had said it, when he was mostly just teasing. The way he had been shocked to think that Ian still had fond thoughts for other men. And he thought of his family downstairs, each one more fucked up than the last, all in agreement over the severity of his error.

And to be honest, he still didn’t quite get the uproar. But maybe that was because none of them got his side, either.

“You’re right,” he began, “you don’t.”

Mickey tensed further, pulling away from him on the bed, but Ian wasn’t done.

“You have all the good bits, you know,” he continued. He went to rest a hand on Mickey’s chest, saw his stiffness, and pointed at his own instead.

“You have all four chambers,” he told him. “Atrium and ventricle. You keep my blood moving, keep it useful, keep me alive. And you have my valves,” he added, trailing a finger side to side to point to the right spots as he spoke. “Mitral and aorta, pulmonary and tricuspid.” He smiled. “You keep me going in the right direction.”

Mickey was softening, he could tell, the tension seeping from his limbs as Ian droned on. He kept going anyway.

“You have all my arteries, Mick,” he whispered. “You’re in all my veins. You said I was under your skin, once?” Ian laughed. “Well you’re under my skin, too. And in my muscles, and in my blood.”

“And the others, they’re like…” he hesitated, searched for the right words. Better words than he had used before. “They’re like cholesterol,” he settled on, “plaque. Or…like the scar tissue from a triple bypass, the parts that don’t work anymore.”

Mickey’s lips quirked, despite himself, and Ian counted it as a victory.

“You have a lot a heart surgeries, Gallagher?” he questioned softly, catching on.

Ian smile widened, and he reached out to take Mickey’s hand. This time, Mickey didn’t pull away.

“Maybe a few,” he admitted. “And maybe I’m better for it.”

He lifted Mickey’s hand to his lips, held it there.

“I don’t mind the broken bits,” he told his husband. “The pieces they left behind. Because you pushed through them every time, and made me healthy again.”

Mickey fidgeted, and nudged himself off the wall to settle closer to Ian’s side.

“Alright,” he allowed, “I get it.”

“Do you?” Ian asked earnestly. “Because I want you to, you know.” He dropped Mickey’s hand to hold his face instead, gently stroking a thumb over his cheek. “I want you to know that that thirteen percent, it doesn’t really matter. All that matters are the parts that are you.”

"I chose you, Mickey," he murmured. He reached out blindly for the spare rings in their box on the bed, worked one free. Slipped it onto Mickey's finger without looking away from his eyes. Mickey's hand clenched around it, around Ian's hand, and held tight.

"I married you," Ian added. "Because I love you with every real part of my heart, every little bit that works."

“All eighty-seven percent?” Mickey prods with a soft expression, leaning forward until his nose brushes Ian’s.

“All eighty-seven percent,” Ian confirmed, and kissed him.

#daily speedwrite #gw2021 #fanfic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #gallavich #fix-it #gallagher family #albeit briefly

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tommynikkivincemick · 5 years

Text

three way call — part 9

Summary: Tommy Lee and Nikki Sixx find themselves in the frustrating predicament of being infatuated with the same woman. This calls for a competition.

Author’s note: What’s up fuckers, it’s been a minute! Sorry for the long hiatus, but shit’s been fucked! But now I’m back and will hopefully be writing more. This will probably be the last chapter of three way call, but I’ll totally write an epilogue if y’all would like one. Also sorry if I forgot anyone on the tag list, I haven’t been keeping up with requests very well. Sincerest apologies. Enjoy.

Warnings: Language, alcohol, mild violence, the usual.

Over the following weeks, Tommy, Y/N, and Nikki became inseparable and the Terror Twins became the Terror Triplets. The trio would constantly be touching, kissing, cuddling, sitting on top of each other, or excusing themselves to go have sex. They knew how each other member of the throuple liked their coffee and what kind of cigarettes they smoked, how they tossed and turned in bed, their preferred brands of beer, and what toppings they liked on their pizza. Y/N knew that Nikki didn’t think Crown Royal was worth the money as far as whiskeys went and that Tommy preferred sativa over indica because it didn’t make him feel as hazy. Nikki knew that Tommy didn’t like cheap vodka when doing shots because he’d thrown it up so many times before and he knew that when Y/N made the coffee, it somehow tasted better despite being made the exact same way by everybody. Tommy knew that Y/N only used Sally Hansen nail polish and owned every shade of red ever made, or so it seemed, and that Nikki only burned dragon’s blood incense, only from this weird little hole in the wall shop downtown.

To Vince and Mick, the closeness was nauseating. Vince was tired of fourth wheeling in his own home and tired of being kept up all night and some of the morning by “Oh Tommy, oh Nikki, oh Y/N,” and the pounding of the headboard on the wall. The most blissful times were when Y/N was at work or the trio decided to spend the night at her apartment instead. However, when Y/N was away, the boys had begun to play, testing boundaries romantically and in the bedroom at all hours of the day. Even band practice has changed; Nikki with his perfectionist tendencies harped on Vince and Mick as usual but suddenly everything Tommy did was perfect. In Tommy’s eyes everything should be dialed back a bit, unless it was his drumming or Nikki’s bass.

“I’m so sick to death of those three,” Mick said one day while the Twins were visiting their third at work.

“Oh, shut up, you don’t even live with them! They’re so far up each other’s asses, you can’t even tell where one ends and the others begin at this point,” Vince bitched.

“Don’t get me wrong, Y/N is great, and I’m glad they’re all happy, but when it affects the band is when I draw the line.”

“I know! Nikki and Tommy have been skipping practices and they’re god damned lucky all of our gigs have gone smoothly. I mean, hell; Sixx is supposed to be the leader of this band and who was it that had to call back that Zutaut guy about scheduling a meeting with those record exec guys? Fucking me! I mean, we call Nikki the leader, we call Y/N our manager, and Tommy’s the second in command, so they need to start fucking acting like it if we’re gonna score this record deal.”

“Should we break them up?” Mick asked, a devious sparkle in his eye.

“Absolutely not. Good material has been flowing from Nikki like fucking water; have you read the lyrics for new piece? ‘Looks That Kill’, or whatever? It’s bitchin’, and I don’t even care that it’s about Y/N. He told me what he wants for the instrumentals and it’s gonna be awesome, the whole next album will be.” Vince gushed.

“They’ll tire themselves out eventually,” Mick sighed, “Until then, we suffer, and also tell them to get their shit together.”

Meanwhile at the record store, Y/N swore she was about to throw her lovers out of the store.

“When’s your lunch break?”

“When does your shift end?”

“We miss you!”

“Just close the store for a little while, we won’t tell...”

“Yeah, come on, baby, live a little!”

She loved Tommy and Nikki— really she did— but today they were making her want to tear her fucking hair out. The Twins were especially needy today and it seemed like their whining and pleading wouldn’t ever stop.

“Guys, you’re gonna get me fired, stop it!” She hissed, slapping Tommy’s hand off of her ass.

“Your boss is never even here! Nine times out of ten, you’re the only one working in here,” Nikki reminded, taking another cherry sucker from the bowl on the counter, and watching as Tommy slid behind her again.

“Yeah, but there’s customers here and sometimes the owner’s son comes by to check in and... and...” Her eyelids fluttered and her train of thought went off the tracks as Tommy began kissing her neck and nibbling her earlobe to distract her, “Tommy! I’m gonna slap you in the face if you don’t stop it!”

“But don’t you like it?” He whispered.

“I love it, that’s the problem. You two go home and I’ll see you in an hour for lunch, yeah? I’ll even call in sick for the rest of the day and have what’s-her-name cover for me.”

“Fine,” Nikki pouted, “You promise?”

“I promise, lover,” She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him gently, “But I promise nothing if you two don’t get out and let me get some work done.”

“C’mon, Sixx,” Tommy huffed and leaned down to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek, “See ya later, sweet thing.”

“Later, babes,” She smiled and waved goodbye as they left at last.

She sighed a sigh of deep relief and sank into her chair that sat behind the register. Finally she could take a breather and get some work done. Then the phone rang.

“Mötley residence, Mick speaking, can I please speak to Y/N?”

“Black Cat Records, Y/N speaking, what’s up, man?” She greeted.

“Are the boys still there?”

“Nope, just left. Why, did you need something?”

“No, no. They’ll be home soon enough, I’m sure. We’re having a band meeting later, though, and you need to be there, too.”

“Yeah, got it. Good news or bad news?”

“Little of both. Well, little bad, lot of good.”

“Okay, I’ll be off in a little under two hours and I told the boys I’d call in for the rest of the afternoon. See ya later, Mars man.”

“See ya later, Terror Triplet.”

She chuckled at the name and hung up. As she stuck price labels on a new shipment of records, she wondered what the news could be. The rest of the morning drug on slowly with few customers and boring music on the radio. No Mötley Crüe, that’s for sure. Finally, it was time for the lunch break. Y/N made a quick call before she left.

“Hey, Sylvia? Can you cover me this afternoon? Yeah, yeah, band stuff, you know. Yeah, I’ll tell the boys you said hello. Thanks, hun, I owe you one.”

She was lucky her coworker picked up and was even luckier she agreed to cover her. Even though her boys annoyed her, she still couldn’t wait to go home to them. Y/N was also anxious about Mick’s news. There was so much on her mind that she couldn’t even pay attention to the Blondie song that was on the radio as she drove to the Mötley residence. She climbed through the window of the apartment to find all of the boys laying around the living room in various states of undress.

“Why are you all half naked?” She snickered.

“It’s hot as balls, babe. Our AC broke, I think,” Tommy whined.

“Did you hit it?”

“A little,” Vince sighed, “It didn’t help.”

Y/N hummed to herself and went to the other window, kicking the air conditioning unit as hard as she could, to no avail.

“Damn, that usually works. Oh well, is there cold drinks in the fridge?”

“Yeah, Vinnie went grocery shopping today. We got beer, Diet Coke, bitchy wine cooler things, and some other shit,” Nikki replied, fanning himself with a random piece of sheet music.

She kicked off her shoes and shirt and grabbed a Coke from the fridge, sitting on the floor between Nikki’s legs and leaning her head on his thigh.

“Why are you wearing these leather pants, babe? Aren’t they hot?”

“Fashion before function, sweetheart,” The bassist shrugged.

“So Mick,” Tommy piped up, “What’s your big news?”

The guitarist sat up in his chair, and cleared his throat.

“Good news first. Do you guys remember that Zutaut kid?”

“Dorky rugby shirt?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah, that’s the one. He talked it over with Electra and called today saying they want to sign us as soon as possible.”

The boys and Y/N erupted in a chorus of whoops and hell-yeahs.

“So what’s the bad news? I don’t think anything can sting after that,” Nikki grinned.

Vince shifted uncomfortably before addressing the rhythm section and their lady love.

“Nikki, Tommy, Y/N, let me start by saying we love that you guys are happy together. But me and Mick feel that you’re letting this relationship consume you a little too much. Nikki, you’ve been letting Tommy get away with murder during practices. Tommy, you’re going soft with Sixx and Y/N, man. And Y/N, you’re our manager, but you’ve been devoting more of your time to the guys than the band as a whole. You should have been the one to talk to Electra and tell us we’re getting signed, you know? But we’ve been having to pick up the slack and that sucks.”

The trio nodded guiltily. They knew their priorities were a bit skewed as of late. Y/N had been meaning to call Electra for days, Tommy had been slacking and not taking his position as second in command seriously, and Nikki was too in love to whip Tommy into shape again. It wasn’t fair to Mick and Vince, and they knew that.

“Yeah, I mean us being together makes us happy, but maybe we should’ve considered if it would be good for the band,” Tommy sighed.

“Maybe taking a break would be the best thing for the band,” Y/N mused, words soaked in sorrow.

“Hey, no! You don’t have to take a break from each other, just even out your priorities a little more, you know?” Mick offered, “Tommy still acts like a ten year old but has more grown up moments since you guys started this. Nikki broods less and the creative juices really seem to be flowing. And you seem really content, and me and Vince don’t want to take that from you. You just needed to be straightened out. It’s cool, just focus on the band more, okay?”

The three nodded and sighed in relief. Y/N excused herself to go lie down because it had been a long day, and Nikki followed. Tommy would have, but insisted that Nikki’s bedroom was too stuffy for the Los Angeles heat with no air conditioner. The bassist opened the window in his bedroom to allow for some air flow as the manager removed her shirt and pants to lie down on the dark sheets.

“Were you serious when you talked about us taking a break?” Nikki asked, sitting on the floor beside the bed.

“Only half. If it would be better for the band, I think we could all agree on it. But it would kill me not to be with you and T-Bone anymore,” She whispered.

“Yeah, I get it. I don’t think I could go back to not being with you two dumbasses,” He cracked a smirk, “The bed’s too big without a couple extra warm bodies next to me.”

“I bet you’d write some killer breakup songs, though. Everybody loves a heartbreak,” She joked, fanning herself with a magazine from the table.

“I wouldn’t love this heartbreak,” Nikki sighed, leaning his head on the mattress, inches away from hers.

She took the memo and kissed him deeply before the sounds of chaos erupted from the living room.

“Damn it, Tommy! Don’t drink all the beer!” Vince whined, “Grab another one and I’ll... I’ll shoot you with a staple gun!”

“Did you leave your bag out there?” Nikki whispered.

“Mhm,” Y/N hummed.

“Is your staple gun from the store in it?”

“Mhm, wh—“

There was a metallic pop, followed by shouting.

“FUCK, BLONDIE! YOU MISSED MY EYE BY AN INCH!” Tommy shrieked.

“HALF AN INCH!” Vince yelled back.

“Oh, fuck,” The couple in the bedroom sighed in unison, before going out to join back in the chaos.

Tag list: @jayprettymuchomw @kayladurin @crazysaladchopshop @iamtiber-andtiberismusic @loveofmyloif @saints-of-the-universe @tommyfuckinlee @oh-well1 @cranberribread @princesadeltoro @prostidudes-for-justice @miriampraez @tarahell @n-osebleed @valentines-in-london @bohemian-war @cuntlord0606 @holding-on-to-my-youth @abbysdogcollar @deacontaylormercurymay @fuckyeah-motleycrue

#motley crue #the dirt #bass daddy #nikki sixx #tommy lee #t bone #nikki #tommy #nikki sixx imagine #tommy lee imagine #nikki sixx smut #tommy lee smut #nikki sixx fluff #tommy lee fluff

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urmomsstuntdouble · 5 years

Link

whippity woo, it’s chapter 2

you can read it down there too if you’d prefer that

An anachronism is something that doesn't belong to its place or time. To Catra, that definition was redundant. A time was as much of a place as the alley she smoked in or the library she worked at. The only difference was that you couldn't choose your place in time. So really, an anachronism was something alien to its environment. Then again, there wasn't a point in getting worked up over stuff like that. She could always look away from the word-a-day calendar on the principal’s desk. But she was in trouble, and it would be a lot harder to look him in the eye when he scolded her. So she kept her head down, and remained critical of the calendar.

“Ms. Driluth,” He began drawled, “Do you know why you’re here right now?” She shrugged. It could have been anything, although three specific things stood out: The money she stole from Alicia Jordan, the fight with Iggy’s girlfriend, or her foster dad's drug ring. She wasn't sure how any of those had made their way to her principal, but it didn't matter. She was handling things.

The principal sighed. He leaned forward, and picked up a sheet of paper from his desk.

“Are you aware of your grades?” She shook her head. “Ah. Allow me to read them to you. In English, a C. In Algebra, a D. In Biology, an F. In History, a C. In Spanish-” He sighed, and set down the paper. “Do I need to continue?”

“Any A’s?”

“No.”

“Damn, I was really hoping to keep my 4.0 going strong,” She mused sarcastically. The principal did not appear amused.

“This is no laughing matter, Ms. Driluth. If you can't bring your grades up, you’ll be suspended.”

“I never understood the point of suspension,” She said, finally raising her head. “I’m doing bad in school so I don't have to come? What kind of sense does that make? Not that I’m complaining,” She added, “I don't get it is all.” The principal was not amused. His eyes remained focused on Catra, his brows furrowed and his jowls pinched into a frown.

“Don't change the subject.”

“I wouldn't dream of it, Mr. Getti.”

“Hmm. For now, all I can do is give you detention.” He pulled another slip of paper from his desk and began scribbling all over it. “You will stay for two hours after school every day until Thanksgiving break.”

“What?! That’s not fair!”

“I think its absolutely fair, Ms. Driluth.”

“I have work after school! How am I supposed to do that and detention and bring my grades up?” Mr. Getti shrugged.

“You should have thought of that before you decided to slack.”

“But, Mr. Getti!” Catra could feel the whine slipping into her voice. She hated whining, but she wasn't done talking yet. It was quite the predicament. “That’s so long! Break isn't for another three whole weeks! I can't-”

“Not my problem, Driluth. Take it to someone who cares.” He handed her the detention slip. “You will report to room 205 after school.”

“Come on, Mr. Getti. You have to at least let me do my time on the third floor.”

“That will be all, Ms. Driluth. Now get out of my office, you’re wasting my time.”

“Oh, I’m wasting your time?” Mr. Getti pulled off his glasses and fixed her with a serious look.

“Would you care to make it four weeks?” Catra prepared to retort, and almost started yelling, but managed to reign herself in.

“No, Mr. Getti,” She gritted out, “I’m absolutely overjoyed with my three weeks.”

“Excellent,” He replied. “Now get out of my office before I call security.” Catra stuck out her tongue, grabbed her backpack, and stalked out of his office. She kicked the door shut with as much force as she could muster. She her foot was in the air to kick it again when someone called her name.

“Hey, Catra!” She recognized that voice. As if like magic, her worries faded away. She spun around, a grin on her face.

“Adora!” Down the hall was Adora, her best friend in the entire world. She was tall with blond hair and blue eyes, and could have a career in modeling if she didn't love sports so much. Catra put up a hand and waved- As if Adora would have a hard time spotting her in the empty hallway. “What are you doing here? Isn't it fifth period?” Adora shook her head.

“Nope, lunch just started. I was talking to Mr. Ross. What are you doing here?” Catra shrugged.

“Nothing much, just Mr. Getti fucking hates me.” Adora’s face was immediately sympathetic.

“What happened this time?” Catra held up her detention slip.

“Fucking three weeks of detention is what!”

“Why?” Adora asked, her nose scrunched into a button.

“Apparently, my grades are too bad- Which they’re not, by the way. I swear he has it out for me.” Adora hummed in acknowledgement.

“How are they? Your grades?”

“They’re fine. I’m not, like, failing everything, if that’s what you mean.” Adora hummed again.

“Good.”

“Yeah,” Catra said. They stood in silence for a moment, before Adora shifted her backpack and sighed.

“You, uh, ready to go to lunch? I’m starving.” Catra nodded.

“Yeah, sure.” The pair turned and began walking towards the cafeteria. Catra kept her head down as they walked, trying to align her feet with the tiles of the floor. She didn't actually want to eat lunch, but Adora did, so she’d go too. Most days, she only ate enough that Adora wouldn't worry about her. Adora worried a lot, and sometimes, Catra didn't mind it. At others, Catra would rather Adora stayed in her own lane. Besides, she didn't get it. Catra couldn't eat lunch. She was too fat to eat three meals a day.

“So, I’m just curious, but, like, how are your grades?” Adora asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. “School hasn't been the same without you.” At the start of the school year, Adora got into all honors classes, leaving Catra behind in the world of regular-ness. She’d been badgering Catra about applying for next year ever since she found out she was going to be taking special classes.

“Fine.”

“How fine?” Catra bit her bottom lip, heat prickling at the back of her neck. She always hated this part. It was fact by now that whenever she talked about school, Adora's response made her feel stupid. Adora’s better test scores and neater notes had a remarkable tendency to rain on her parade. So Catra preferred to keep school out of their conversations.

“Not bad, okay? I’m only failing in Bio now, so-”

“You’re failing?!” Adora said, “That’s not fine! Do you need help studying?” Catra shrugged. It was an offer Adora had made before, but one she never accepted. She could handle her shit. She was handling it.

“I think I’m good.”

“But you always say that, and you’re still failing!”

“Yeah, but I don't have- I can't. Bio is just harder for me than you.”

“Sure, but-”

“It’s all good in Catra-town,” She said, and slung an arm around Adora’s shoulder. “Now come on. You have to tell me what happened in Razz’s class today.” Ms. Razz was a history teacher, and the least sane woman on the face of the Earth. She was absolutely insane, and many students hated her. Catra didn't have her, but she knew enough people who did to have a good grasp on how insane the woman was.

“Oh!” Adora perked up, “Not much. Lonnie made a joke about cocaine, then Ms. Razz started ranting about the Opium Wars and Pablo Escobar.”

“Sounds delightful,” Catra said, and pulled her arm away from Adora as they reached the cafeteria.

“I guess. But, like, none of her classes are ever on the same page. Its so annoying sometimes.” Catra shrugged.

“My Spanish teacher is like that too. I think he’s an escapee from a mental hospital or something.” The expression on Adora’s face was something of a cross between amused and curious. Part of it was natural inquisition, and the other part was that in New York, the rumors were more true than you’d expect.

“Cool,” Adora said, “I’m gonna go get our seats.” She left, running off to their usual table. Catra rolled her eyes. Adora had been doing that exact same thing since the first day of sixth grade. It must've been Pavlovian at this point. Catra qualified for a free lunch, so she got one while Adora found a table. No matter how many other people sat with her, she always made sure to save a seat for Catra. Never once in four years had Catra gone without a seat at lunch. That was nice. Sometimes nicer than others- Like when Catra actually got to sit at the table, rather than on Adora’s lap. But anyway, Catra had stability in her lunch table, which was more than some people could say.

After her mother died, her friends passed Catra around for a few years like in a game of hot potato. The last friend she stayed with had kids of her own. Her name was Ms. Weaver, even to her biological children. It was almost a full year before Catra gave up and sent a letter to Child Protective Services. Two months later, they showed up. They couldn't find anything wrong with the place, to Catra’s dismay, so they left. Later that night, she learned what it felt like to take the clasp of a belt to the eye and what the scar looked like.

But it was fine. It wasn't the first time something like that had happened. And Catra was well aware of the risks- CPS would have had to take them for everything to have been alright. Ms. Weaver also had three more children that she was taking care of. Their names were Esme, Mick, and Luch. None of those were nicknames. For the longest time, Catra had assumed their actual names were Esmeralda, Mickey, and Lucia, but that wasn’t the case. All three were younger than her, and sometimes it seemed like they had a bond. Other times, Catra feared them. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone. She couldn't be afraid of someone whose head barely reached her shoulders.

After a couple minutes of waiting, Catra was able to get her lunch. Her current foster dad had obscene wealth, although you wouldn't know it from looking at him. He was a tall man with hair dyed blue. He wore eyeliner, but you usually couldn't see it from behind his red-tinted sunglasses. Parenting was not a priority to him. All he shared with Catra from his life was how to fake tax returns. She was pretty sure he had only taken her in for the benefit of his drug ring. Ever since she moved in with him, her arrest record was filling with drug charges.

After she got her lunch, she made her way over to the table. Adora had, as always, saved her a spot. Also at the table were Lonnie, Rogelio, and Kyle, three people Catra had known since before her mother died. At one point in time, they were her best friends, but such ceased to be true when the three of them switched into honors classes. But it was fine. Catra had new associates in her regular, shitty classes anyway. She didn't need them.

“Hey,” She said, setting her lunch on the table. Lonnie was the first to look up from her conversation with Rogelio.

“Hi,” She said, and immediately went back to talking to him. Rogelio was an interesting person, to say the least. He was tall and bulky, and had a green mohawk. When he was younger, he was a mute, but now, he could sort of talk. The only person who understood him was Lonnie. Their whole thing was super weird to Catra.

“Hi, Catra,” Adora said. She had become distracted with something- Homework, by the looks of it. She ate an apple with her right hand, and wrote with her left, not looking up.

“Whatcha doin, there, Adora?” She asked.

“Oh, this?” Adora glanced up, and took a bite of her apple. “It’s for Spanish.”

“Que interesante,” Catra replied. Spanish was an interesting subject for her. Her mom spoke some Spanish before she died, and Catra heard it at work, but never the kind they taught at school. That was always peninsular Spanish. And boy, were the Spaniards on something. Catra much prefered the sounds of New York immigrant Spanish to the bastardized version of Madrid Spanish she learned in the classroom.

“Verdaderamente!” Adora agreed, and went back to her worksheet. Great. Now that Adora was working, Catra had nobody to talk to. Well, she could talk to Kyle, but, like. It was Kyle. Come on, now. So instead, she ate her soggy, fattening french fries.

“I’m, uh, I’m going to the vending machine,” She announced to nobody in particular. Nobody looked up or acknowledged her. After a moment, she got up anyway. Instead of going to the vending machine, she wandered around the cafeteria. She was virtually unnoticed. She weaved around people and tables, seldom making eye contact with them. A few faces were familiar from class or drug deals, but most were completely foreign. But that didn't matter. She had Adora, even if the other girl was always busy with homework and sports.

As Catra wandered, she caught the eye of someone she recognized. A small girl, her hair braided, and her eyes almond shaped. The girl, along with a group of others, frequented her library. Though they had never spoken, Catra felt tempted to wave or go over and talk to her or something. What kind of conversation would that be? Hi, I’m aware of your existence. Please make me aware of more. That would be super weird. So Catra sent the girl a curt nod and kept walking. She wasn't sure, but she thought the girl nodded back.

When she grew bored, Catra returned to her table. She sat next to Adora, and tried to be quiet, but it wasn't long before she grew bored and time slowed to a crawl. With a groan, Catra grabbed her backpack from the floor. Doing her homework was always an option- And there was that Algebra worksheet she had to do. Doing math in any capacity usually made her hate being alive, but seeing as her grade was- What? A D? She could stand to do some more work. Her foster dad would kill her upon becoming aware of the D in math.

It wasn't long before they could leave the cafeteria. By the time the bell rang, Catra had gained frustration and understood less than she had when she started the worksheet.

“Ready to go?” Adora asked her, and she nodded. Catra was especially ready for gym in seventh period. That was her only class with Adora this year. But she had to slog- Or sleep- through Biology to get there. Maybe that was why she was failing that class.

“Yeah,” Catra responded, “Let’s go.” They walked together for as long as their schedules would allow before parting ways.

“Bye!” Catra called out, as she turned and started going up the stairs.

“See ya, Catra!” Adora yelled back. Catra grinned to herself. She loved the way Adora said her name, even though it was wrong. She fell into the common pitfall of replacing the first ‘a’ with an ‘e,’ but the way she finished the name off was unique. It was something only she had ever said before, and that made it special. The way Adora said her name…Catra couldn't put her finger on it, but it was sort of like a secret only the two of them knew. It was a shame Adora had a phonetic name and the secret couldn't go both ways.

Catra struggled to force herself through the rest of the day. Biology was on brand in levels of tediousness. When seventh period rolled around, Adora didn't even pay Catra any attention. She was too busy talking to some other girls from her fancy smart classes. Well, that was fine with Catra. She wasn't stupid. She understood that sometimes Adora had people besides Catra who wanted to talk to her, and she couldn't talk to Catra all the time. It was also annoying. Adora was her best friend, not Lonnie’s, or whoever else she was hanging out with.

Though she never joined the conversation, Catra eavesdropped all class. She caught little snippets, mostly from Adora. The other girls she was walking with had softer voices- Although Catra was pretty sure one of them was talking about her dad leaving. Which, by the way, she needed to grow up. Getting stuck up on shit like that only made it worse. And the girl seemed very stuck up on it. She had her hair dyed blue and everything. Heh. Probably part of her rebellious phase or whatever. As soon as her dad started paying child support, she’d be fine, back to being complicit in rich girl world.

When school was finally over, Catra did wind up staying for detention. Even though she talked a lot of shit, she needed to keep herself out of trouble right now. Her foster dad was losing his patience with her, and any more big screw ups would get her sent right back to the home. Or worse, Ms. Weaver’s apartment. She shuddered at the thought.

Despite not giving a shit about her, her foster dad was actually decent as foster parents went. He usually didn't hit her, and he wasn't very mean to her- if not blunt sometimes. He wanted her to do well in school, but didn't every parent? He was nowhere near being a parent, but he kept her safe and gave her money, and that was alright with her.

After her detention was up, Catra had to run to the library. She almost didn't make it in time for her shift, but that was sort of okay. Her job wasn't super important. Most of what she did was shelving books and putting labels on new ones. She made four dollars and hour doing it, and often saw people from school milling around. That day in particular, she spotted the girl she had seen at lunch. The girl was with a group now, who may or may not have also been at school. They hung out between shelves, made lots of noise, and didn't appear to care that they were in a library.

They stayed throughout her entire shift. When Catra was on her way out, she one of the actual librarians stopped her and brought into a side room.

“I’m sorry to hold you up, Catra, but we need to talk,” She said, as though she was talking to a child.

“Okay. What’s going on?” Catra asked slowly, only a little scared of the answer. The librarian sighed, and pinched her nose.

“This is hard to say, but…We’re broke. The library is out of money. We’re going to have to either close our doors or get rid of some employees.” Catra’s heart sank. She couldn't afford to lose this job! Where was she supposed to go after school? And what was she supposed to do about money?

“O-Okay,” She mumbled, glaring at her shoes.

“Its pretty unfortunate. I tried to convince my bosses not to fire anybody, but they didn't listen. So, Catra, I’m sorry to say this, but…You’re done here.”

“I understand,” Catra growled. Her life was over.

“I’m so sorry,” The librarian told her, “But we just can't afford to keep you on, and you’re in a low level position and everything. Its not an ideal situation.”

“It’s okay,” Catra said, composing herself. “I get it, man. No money, more problems, you know?” The librarian looked somewhat relieved.

“Yeah, totally. Its been super rough here the past few months. I’m sorry, though. That’s the first time I’ve ever had to fire anybody.” Catra had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. Why did this librarian care so much? She didn't even know the woman’s name. “Oh, and, um. We’ll still send you your paycheck for November at the end of the month.”

“Thanks,” Catra nodded shortly, and then left the room. She took off her name tag and spiked it into a nearby trash can. “Fuck me,” She mumbled, and grabbed her backpack from behind the main desk. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” She kept mumbling as she went on her way. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”

“Yo, you okay?” Catra was tugged from her thoughts by a somewhat familiar voice. She glanced around, and eventually noticed the girl from school. Instead of responding, her first instinct was to wave. She almost did before putting her hand back to her side.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got fired,” She said, a little bitter.

“That’s rough,” Said the girl. She left her spot leaning against a bookshelf and approached Catra. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I’m, uh, I’m good,” Catra said as a reflex.

“Oh, good. I don't know shit about talking feelings,” The girl said, and ran a hand through her hair. “Me and my girls were about to hit up this party down in Soho. You wanna come?” Catra shrugged. She should be getting back home. Her foster dad might want her to make a run tonight. Then again, fuck him. Wasn't that supposed to be someone’s actual job? He could get another drug mule whenever he pleased.

“Yeah, sure,” She said on a whim, “Let’s go.” She left with the girl and her group of friends, not knowing a single one of their names. By the night’s end, she learned a couple names- Tamari, Johnny, Matea- but likely couldn't pin them to faces. The music at the party had been okay. Nothing she particularly loved. But more important was the exorbitant quantity of alcohol present. The party was in a storage unit owned by some kid who went to Catholic school, with almost enough beer and Franzia to make Catra wonder if they were okay. Then again, she drank enough to make herself wonder if she was okay.

She remembered that night in flashes. When they arrived, she was one of the few people in the room who looked like her. Most people wore tight shirts and baggy jeans, or tiny shorts with fishnets, or their hair like Madonna. Catra was anachronistic in her shredded black jeans, dark flannel, and Yankees cap. She felt the urge to find Adora and cling to her side, but Adora wasn't there. Adora was at home studying or something, like the good girl she was.

Catra clung instead to the group she had come with. They didn't pay her much attention, except to ask if she wanted a drink or a joint. She never turned anything down. At some point along the way, her goal turned from having a good time to losing the ability to think. She couldn't remember why; she was overcome by a horrible wave of sadness around ten and replaced it with alcohol. Then came the realization that being drunk was really fucking fun. She was a better dancer and singer, and she was funny.

When she woke up in the morning, Catra learned that the amount of fun one had while drinking was proportional to the amount of suffering the next day. When she woke up, Catra thought she might actually be dying. It was the equivalent of a biblical apocalypse inside her body. Locusts, floods, the whole nine yards. And that was only the headache.

“Oh, fuck me,” She tried to say, but her voice was so hoarse it came out as more of a whisper. She blinked in the bright light of the early morning, and brought a hand up to rub at her eyes. Shortly after, her greasy skin and tangled hair came to her attention. “Shit.” She glanced around her surroundings, and found herself in an apartment. She had no idea whose, but it wasn't the one they had started off in. That was a little strange, but it wasn't the worst place she'd woken up.

The first thing she noticed about the place was the carpet. It was soft under her fingers, and for a minute, she laid there and ran her fingers across the floor. She wasn't sure why, but the softness of the carpet gave her hope. Maybe because the person who lived here had a nice carpet, which meant it was possible for someone like her to have a nice carpet. At that point, what was stopping her from having a nice carpet? But then again, she drank so much last night she struggled to remember getting drunk. So she didn't know if the owner of the carpet was like her at all, and she was back at square one.

Sitting up turned out to be a mistake. Catra’s vision went dark and she would have collapsed, were it not for the couch behind her. Her headache was not helped at all by sitting up; in fact, it increased tenfold.

“Oh, shit,” She mumbled.

“Shuddup,” A voice groaned from behind her, and a hand fell down onto her shoulder. Catra yelped in shock, and jumped to her feet. Also a mistake, but she was too busy paying attention to the adrenaline to notice that she wasn't ready to jump yet.

Laying on the couch was a girl- Catra believed her to be one of the people she had gone to the party with. The girl was face down, although she hadn't changed her clothes. She wore a denim skirt and a leather tank top, and had tightly coiled hair. Probably tight enough to fit a finger, but that was an experiment for another time.

“Tamari?” Catra guessed. The girl shifted her hand, dangling off the couch. She held up one thumb, and Catra wasn't certain, but she thought there was a small grin on the girl’s face.

“That’s me,” She sang. Catra nodded.

“O-Okay, great. Um, where are we?” Tamari shrugged.

“I ain’t remember, man,” She said, and shifted on the couch to face Catra. “I’m fucking tired,” With a giggle, “I’m still drunk.”

Catra grunted in response. She cursed herself for going along with a group of people with a similar distaste for sobriety. Tamari groaned, and shifted into a different position. Facing Catra, she was able to squint around the rest of the apartment and see what she could see.

“This looks like, uh…Matea’s place. Well, it ain’t belong to her, it belongs to her parents, but, uh…” She trailed off. “Shit, man, this couch is fuckin comfortable.” A corner of Catra’s mouth twitched.

“Is it soft?” She asked.

“No shit,” Tamari responded. She pulled her knees into her chest, leaving the other side of the couch open. “You can sit if you want.” Catra did. She more curled into the armrest bit, as she was finally free of the tremendous effort of standing while hungover. The couch was a haven, and so soft. Not quite as nice as the carpet, but also not far off. If only she could have slept on the couch last night too…

In a couple hours, almost everyone else had woken up. This was, indeed, Matea’s place. Matea was a small, Eastern European girl who spoke with a heavy accent and had a mouth full of dying teeth. She claimed not to be rich, but her family had more money than Catra would know what to do with. As it turned out, daydreaming of infinite wealth got boring after you fixed all your problems. Even so, drowning in money never did sound all that bad.

“Anybody want eat something?” Matea asked, her voice low and gravelly. Catra shook her head, even though she was hungry. She sat with the group of strangers while they ate, and attempted to recall their names. It wouldn't be long before she remembered what day it was.

“It’s Thursday!” She shouted, jumping to her feet, “Shit, what time is it?” She glanced around wildly for a clock. There wasn't one in the room she was currently in, so she ventured off to look for one. Nobody followed her, and she eventually found one in a bedroom. It was ten thirty two, and she should've been to be in English right now. She didn't even know where she was, let alone how to get all the way back to school! Oh, this was all too much. Her foster dad was going to kill her when he found out she missed school.

“Yo, Catra!” A voice called out, snapping her back to the moment. “Where you at?” She stepped out of the bedroom, trying to compose herself.

“Over here,” She said, trying to keep her voice lower than it actually was.

“Yo,” A boy said, turning the corner. “What’s your deal?”

“What’s my deal?” She echoed, “It’s Thursday, dude. I need to be at school.”

“Chill, bro. We're skipping today.”

“I can't skip,” She said slowly, “My dad-”

“Man, fuck your dad,” The boy said, “What’s he gonna do to you? You got a job, right?” Catra shook her head.

“No, dude, I got fired last night. That’s the whole stupid reason I went with you to that party!”

“Alright, chill. My bad.” The boy scratched the back of his head. “But you still got some money, right?” She nodded. “A’ight, so what exactly are you so afraid of?” Catra opened her mouth to respond, but found that she didn't know. She blinked a couple times, trying to think of something. All her foster dad cared about were her grades and selling drugs, so if she could keep her grades up, who cared about her attendance? He only hit her when she deserved it- And she could take it anyway. So, yeah, the boy was right. There wasn't anything to be afraid of.

“Actually, yeah. You’re right,” Catra said, “Son of a bitch doesn't care about me anyway.”

“Yeah, see, you’re fine,” The boy said, “Now come on. You needa eat something, for real. You’re skinny as hell.” Catra held her tongue on arguing with him, even though he was wrong. It wouldn't lead them anywhere.

That was the first time Catra missed school. It was a sort of definitive marker in her life, although she wouldn't remember it. She would only remember that it started when she was a freshman. It wasn't long before she started showing up to school drunk, too. Those were the best days. Everybody loved her when she was drunk. Adora thought she was hilarious, and actually paid attention to her when they talked at lunch. By the time her detention was up, Catra had learned a whole new way of living.

There was only one downside to drinking and smoking and partying like she did. Her foster dad didn't like it. And yeah, he hit her a couple times, but there was nothing wrong with that. Nothing that she could see, at the very least.

Not once did it ever occur to Catra that she would develop an addiction. It was always just this once, or just for fun. But that was the thing about becoming an alcoholic or a drug addict. You say just this once, then twice, and the next thing you know, you’re addicted. And she didn't even realize it. On a subconscious level, she was able to better understand why her foster dad sold drugs. He got his highs from selling, and Catra got hers from using.

As the school year progressed, Catra grew further and further apart from Adora. From the outside, it was quite natural. Everybody thinks childhood friendships are parallel lines, but that couldn't be further from the truth. They each fell in with their new friends and people. Unfortunately, Adora found her people while Catra was left behind with people she couldn't force herself to love. All the while, she watched Adora get everything she ever wanted without even trying for it. They still spoke, but not as much. It was over Christmas break that Catra realized she wasn't Adora’s best friend anymore. That revelation was about all she remembered from that week, actually. She found herself blacking out more and more lately. Who could blame her? She was watching herself slip away from everybody she cared about, and there was nothing she could do about it.

By the time spring rolled around, the Catra most people claimed to know was dead and gone.

#she ra #spop #she ra fic #catra #adora #lonnie #others #big oof #scorptra #?#can i legally say that if scorpia has yet to appear #shes going to be important #ceros posting

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ofcoldguns · 5 years

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‘✩’ Coldflash?

The Ultimate Relationship Tag | @speedforceprinceSend ‘✩’ for the following:

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Probably Barry. Len really tries to keep himself under control when he’s in an argument with anyone so it’s highly unlikely.Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Len. He thinks that Barry would be better off without him.Who actually keeps their word and leaves? I don’t think either of them actually goes through with it.Who trashes the house? I don’t think either of them would.Do either of them get physical? No. I think the most there would be is one grabbing the other and forcing them to look at them.How often do they argue/disagree? Quite a bit. Not like huge arguments a lot. But little disagreements here or there.Who is the first to apologise? Probably Barry. Especially in the beginning of the relationship because Len has never been good at apologies especially when it involves feelings.The rest under the cut because this meme is very long

Sex:

Who is on top? Len usually but he does enjoy bottoming too.Who is on the bottom? Like above, usually Barry but sometimes...Who has the strangest desires? Probably LenAny kinks? Yes definitely. I can see some handcuff stuff. Maybe dabbling in roleplay.Who’s dominant in bed? Len but Barry isn’t exactly a pushover.Is head ever in the equation? Oh yesIf so, who is better at performing it? I don’t know about better, but Len is surprisingly enthusiastic about it.Ever had sex in public? Yes.Who moans the most? Barry and Len goes crazy for it.Who leaves the most marks? Barry because all the marks Len tries really hard to leave heal too quickly.Who screams the loudest? BarryWho is the more experienced of the two? LenDo they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? It depends on their general mood. When they start out it’s more just fucking but as time goes on they do make love.Rough or soft? Again, it depends on their mood.How long do they usually last? Fairly long.Is protection used? Absolutely. It’s sort of a big thing for Len considering he grew up during the AIDS crisis.Does it ever get boring? Never.Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? In STAR Labs.

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children? They’ve never really talked about it. If so, how many children do your muses want/have? Again, never really talked about it.Who is the favorite parent? Barry. He spoils them.Who is the authoritative parent? Len because someone has to. But he can be fun too.Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? Len probably.Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? Barry does.Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? Both of them do.Who goes to parent teacher interviews? Who changes the diapers? They rotate.Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby? They rotate.Who spends the most time with the children? It ends up being Len since Barry has an actual job.Who packs their lunch boxes? Len does. He’s already up incredibly early.Who gives their children ‘the talk’? Len does and it’s so awkward because it’s so detailed and technical. Like he has pamphlets and everything.Who cleans up after the kids? Barry does since he’s fast.Who worries the most? Len Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from? Uncle Mick Len

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? Barry does. Len secretly does.Who is the little spoon? Barry usually.Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? Len most often.Who struggles to keep their hands to themself? Len.How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? Maybe a couple hours.Who gives the most kisses? BarryWhat is their favourite non-sexual activity? Binge watching stuff.Where is their favourite place to cuddle? Oh the couch definitely.Who is more likely to playfully grope the other? Len.How often do they get time to themselves? Not a lot between superhero/supervillain stuff and Barry’s job.

Sleeping:

Who snores? Neither really.Do they share a bed or sleep separately? ShareIf they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? Cozy up. Even if they start far apart they will end up cozied up to each other.Who talks in their sleep? BarryWhat do they wear to bed? Len is usually in full PJs and Barry’s usually just in boxers.Are either of your muses insomniacs? Len is.Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? Nope.Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? Wrapped around.Who wakes up with bed hair? Barry.Who wakes up first? Len because he’s always up unreasonably early.Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Len since he’s up so early.What is their favourite sleeping position? Spooning.Who hogs the sheets? Barry.Do they set an alarm each night? Barry does. Len doesn’t need to.Can a television be found in their bedroom? Yes.Who has nightmares? They both do.Who has ridiculous dreams? Barry.Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Barry does.Who makes the bed? Barry does since he’s usually the last one out of bed.What time is bed time? Whenever they get home since they’re both out so late most of the time.Any routines/rituals before bed? Len does unless he’s too tired to do anything.Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Len.

Work:

Who is the busiest? Barry unless Len is planning a heist with the other Rogues.Who rakes in the highest income? Len. Just don’t ask where some of it comes from.Are any of your muses unemployed? Nope.Who takes the most sick days? Barry but not because he’s sick.Who is more likely to turn up late to work? Barry.Who sucks up to their boss? Barry’s the only one who has a boss.What are their jobs? Obviously Barry’s a CSI and Len owns a bar.Who stresses the most? Len.Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? Yeah they’re pretty happy.Are your muses financially stable? Yes they are.

Home:

Who does the washing? Whoever’s home. Len will wash to relax, Barry washes because he can do it quicker.Who takes out the trash? Whoever notices it’s full.Who does the ironing? They take care of their own clothes.Who does the cooking? Len does.Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Barry just because Len is more focused.Who is messier? Barry.Who leaves the toilet roll empty? Probably Barry.Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Len would never. Probably reminds Barry not to every now any then.Who forgets to flush the toilet? Neither.Who is the prankster around the house? They both are. And once one starts then it’s absolute chaos.Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? Len is the only one who drives so it’s him if they ever do get lost.Who mows the lawn? They have an apartment so no lawn.Who answers the telephone? Whoever’s phone it is. They don’t have landlines.Who does the vacuuming? Vacuuming only gets done when one of them is going on a cleaning spree.Who does the groceries? They trade off but usually Len does.Who takes the longest to shower? Len.Who spends the most time in the bathroom? Len does since Barry can speed through things.

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? Nope.How many cars do they own? Just the one. Len also has a motorcycle.Do they own their home or do they rent? They rent an apartment.Do they live in the city or in the country? In the city.Do they enjoy their surroundings? Yes.What’s their song? Unusual Way from Nine.What do they do when they’re away from each other? Get work done. Where did they first meet? Technically on the highway outside the city.How did they first meet? When Barry stopped his heist as the Flash.Who spends the most money when out shopping? LenWho’s more likely to flash their assets? LenWho finds it amusing when the other trips over? Len does but he does helpAny mental issues? Definitely some PTSD due to their histories.Who’s terrified of bugs? Neither of them really are.Who kills the spiders around the house? Neither of them will kill but Len will take them to a window or something.Their favourite place? This cute little diner that’s a little out of the way but no one they know really knows about it.Who pays the bills? Len doesDo they have any fears for their future? Len definitely fears that Barry’s going to realize that he’s too good for Len and he’s going to leave.Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Len, especially if he knows Barry’s had a long day.Who uses up all of the hot water? Len just because he spends more time in the shower.Who’s the tallest? Barry is taller than Len by a single inch. (The fact that Grant is actually 1 inch taller gives me so much life.)Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? Barry most likely.Who wanders around in their underwear? Barry because Len usually likes to be covered up.Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Barry does.What do they tease each other about? Various little things. Len’s favorite comeback to Barry being annoyed with him stealing the last slice of pizza or something like that is “:What are you going to do, arrest me?”Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? LenDo they have mutual friends? Not really? I mean their friends put up with them.Who crushed first? Len will deny that he fell first but he didAny alcohol or substance related problems? Not really. Barry can’t get drunk and Len likes to keep a handle on his drinking since he saw what it did to his dad.Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? Neither. Len does any heavy drinking at home if he does.Who swears the most? Probably Len.

#answers #[Icon of the Leo and Barry hug because I can]#speedforceprince

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skymma · 5 years

Note

☔ all kids please

@exitiumparit | send a symbol and I’ll answer … | accepting

☔: what does your muse do on a rainy day?

for laura it vastly depends on her overall mood. if she’s restless and wants to escape herself she’ll be out regardless of whether it rains or not. if she’s feeling neutral or even alright, though, she likes to spend the day inside, usually in her room, reading or writing while listening to the rain.

molly’s pretty similar in that she also likes to listen to the rain and draw or read, but sometimes she’ll be taken by the childlike urge to play in the rain and get her rainboots on and go run around in puddles. there’s still a bit of magic in that for her.

tanja likes to curl up with a book too, or a tv show, and some hot chocolate. she actually quite likes studying to the sound of the rain too. there’s something very soothing to her in taking notes and rehearsing stuff while being aware of the world outside in a quiet kind of way.

robin gets pretty restless with bad weather because he prefers to be out and about, so he’ll usually brave the rain to go hang out with a buddy or have said buddy come over so they can play games or watch movies or just chat in company.

john doesn’t alter his activities depending on the weather. if there’s a world to save or a life to ruin he’ll do that regardless of the rain or not. that said, since he’s usually homeless, he’ll often use the rain as an excuse to seek refuge in a bar and have a drink. it’s somewhere with a roof over his head where he won’t catch a cold or anything.

mick really enjoys rain when it’s a light or medium kind of rain, so she’ll sometimes go outside just to be in it for a moment or two. just because she’s a cat doesn’t mean she has to fulfill all stereotypes, right? warm rains and summer rains and sun rains are her favourite and she enjoys spending time in them. when it comes to harsh rains though she will stay indoors, but usually at a friend’s place because she’s an extrovert.

adam doesn’t really care. he finds rain inconvenient sometimes but he also doesn’t view it as something special or an opportunity to cozy up or anything. rain is just rain, and since he’s impervious to illnesses and pain he’ll go out in a thunderstorm if he has something to do.

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elizabethrobertajones · 7 years

Text

12x17 watching notes

(Finally :P)

expectations - well, I had pretty low ones before this episode came out but while I was mucking around waiting for it to become available through some channel or another, a couple of people have expressed actual excitement to me about it so now I'm confused, especially as they didn't offer any qualifiers about that, aside from that the Crowley and Lucifer stuff would be pretty boring, which was a lesser problem on my list of things to worry about.

Let's see what happens :P

The recap starts with the Crowley and Lucifer stuff. Yay.

Blah blah Dagon and Kelly... EILEEN HI

Okay interesting BMoL recap - starting with Mick and his character development so far, then sliding over to Ketch, punchy punchy Mary hitting things in time with him. So they're linked (see also: gloomy expectations :P) and actually doesn't tell us anything else about Mary in that moment, but keeps on recapping Sam and Dean's issues with the BMoL - Mary's been swallowed up into them.

Kendricks! With their creepy motto about being stronger together. Which is I guess what Sam accidentally echoed about the better the MoL are the better they are

(Mittens just told me the crossed keys on there are a symbol of heaven too which *anvils*

It is never a good sign when you're called into an office and they put plastic sheeting down. I guess one of these kids isn't coming out alive... I don't think they've said names yet but I think the pale dark haired one is Mick because duh

odds are they make him murder his friend for shits and giggles

I can't visuale "Michael" being Mick because that name just doesn't fit :P Also anvils again the whole Michael thing - we had his lance not too long ago. He's LURKING.

LOL the Headmistress pauses with horns behind her head. Not ominous about her being evil at aaaall.

LOL they are Michael and Lucifer parallels

And Michael wins. Obviously. Since we know Mick kinda makes it out of there. :P

So Headmistress with her codes is God, Mick actually wins the damn fight which is NOT good because the only other repetition of the entire cycle to win the fight was Cain and that ended *so well* for him.

All the Cas mirroring just got blown out of the water though. I guess he now gets to carry the weirdly dubious honour of dealing with the Michael mirroring... Michael who would not back down from the apocalypse because God Said So and he was going to be a good son and do what was destined of him, no matter if it meant killing his brother. Of course we've had that exact conflict remembered earlier this season with Ramiel musing on how Michael made his spear to kill Lucifer slowly and painfully. Cain mirrored down the line to Dean - Mick mirrors back up to it Michael. Interesting that they want to address this again even just thematically with parallels like this... I'm so not convinced ever at any point that Michael will actually come back, if nothing than for the show to dig in its heels and enjoy the "You forgot Adam" jokes to the end of time, but Michael IS a loose end narratively in that he's so heavily NOT been involved in the story again, and carries a real, terrifying weight that Lucifer does not, and tbh never really did, since he popped up in 5x01 all like hey I'm the villain, but Michael had a much more insidious awfulness to him... And with 2 appearances ever, remains far more mysterious and powerful in the story than the now over-blown cartoon villain Lucifer's been since, well, honestly, season 7, though obviously Hallucifer was not meant to be the real deal...

Anyway I should maybe not take forever to watch the thing because I always do and I started so late thanks to download links being terrible >.>

Wait

Mick is alone and drinking in the office at the BMoL compound remembering all this (yay alcoholism all of a sudden out of nowhere - he really has utterly switched gears to the Michael-Cain-Dean thread)

and now Sam n Dean are driving off to meet him

when the hell was the promo scene and was it even in this episode :P

EILEEN IMMEDIATELY

Yesssssss

I am immediately also upset that she loves Sam so much but doesn't tell him to not let Dean talk to her while he's driving if it means he has to keep looking down at the ipad to make it clear what he's saying to her >.> EYES ON THE ROAD. Sam's no good to you dead.

I am mostly admiring Eileen's hair because Kelly stuff is like... okay.

Aw she said goodbye to Sam specially. My heart.

Dean thinks it's cute too.

Sam's like "come on" oh god he's in love too.

Sammy, this is how it feels to be in the hot seat when people mock you for having an adorable crush. Leap behind denial and pretending there was nothing special about that "bye Sam" :3

And you should know you've seen it happen to Dean enough :P

Dean ships it.

And he always knows what's true and good :3

"He stole my line" says Crowley somewhere or other. I love how Dean was literally just saying not to call Crowley, and there's Mick in the library with the whiskey, "hello boys" and suuuuper ominous music, because he just let himself in. Does he know about Kelly? Sam and Dean are coordinating all the other hunters they know on this, but it's their resources. And they actually have other hunters they know and trust and are good, working with them.

And of course, the whole thing with the BMoL imposing on them - no privacy, the keys giving him full access to their lives, and, I think, assuming in a way they're their superiors because Sam n Dean are hunters, but Mick has the desk job and the education...

Sam and Dean present a united front stomping towards Mick, who has come to hang out. Now HE is on the case of Kelly, and of course it comes out that they were keeping it a secret...

Mick mentions cosmic shockwave but it's not Cas's cosmic consequences. I think we need to limit the word cosmic to one per season relevant things.

Anyway as with 12x14 showing the BMoL are playing on their stage but are tragically behind and under informed. I was recently musing on if they had the same technology as a start point as the Bunker and that detected the angel fall, they would have obviously a lot more time to develop it and would have equipment sensitive enough to detect all sorts of big events (I was wondering about the seals breaking in that context, but a Nephilim being conceived counts)

Now I have to listen to Dean recapping 12x08...

I feel like I should just leave a blank space for watching them arguing about killing Kelly or making her get an abortion. Just because... Buckleming, no, why are you even handling this subject. Why.

Mick takes the far more hardline approach that they should have killed her, but I mean, Sam and Dean start from the point of, we thought she agreed to get an abortion (are you not allowed to say abortion on American TV?)

I do love Sam and Dean sitting on the table side by side like this KNOWING they're like, the most intimidating men Mick will ever meet and if they play up the double act, he's so much more likely to crack from the pressure :')

This is rapidly turning into Buckleming's favourite trope of Sam n Dean judging you together, which I can't remember how often they do it but it is a Thing and 9x21 is not the only example though it’s the only one I can think of, and none of the other writers ever make them do exactly this.

I think part of why it stands out to me is just because while Sam n Dean are great and can be united against a mock-worthy foe, they actually aren't usually *united* and even when things are great, they play to their strengths, but often moments of unity highlight their differences, especially current conflicts or whatever. Moments of inward reflection occur and so on.

Here, they're just a block on this table which says "exposition: Winchester POV" while Mick is over there like "exposition: drop more anvils" (he just called the nephilim an "abomination" out of the blue)

"Until then, we drink" - I think Dean is distracting Mick more than anything - he already showed up in the Bunker, drinking, and Dean knows they have a lead thanks to Eileen. If they can get Mick trashed, who knows, maybe he'll forget, maybe this will all seem less urgent in the morning, maybe he can be reasoned with differently when the plan is he has the hangover and Dean is doing dishes noisily in the kitchen, if, you know, Mick had not out-drunk them

wait why is Lucifer back in that chair - did Buckleming literally not watch 12x15? It's so pointless to chain him up... he should be like, sitting in the corner of Crowley's room or whatever, LOOKING free and suffering.

The fact you could fade out from 12x13 and into 12x16 for the Lucifer stuff makes me think that Perez did the best he could and bless his cotton socks but you just can't un-fuck Buckleming writing when they're on a roll, because if they think Lucifer should be chained up in this chair like they wanted him, then here he is.

I mean aside from anything it's yet more complete disrespect for canon - that they clearly didn't do any homework for 12x13 because holy crap the Gavin stuff was badly handled, and that was their own story so you'd think they'd know how follow on from their OWN writing - and now they're not even playing ball with the other writers on current stuff >.>

As I said in an ask I answered a little before this episode, they have their own canon running adjacent to main canon, where all their mad plot stuff happens, and everyone else just has to deal with it as a sort of weird fever dream that happens in the background of the Winchesters' lives. You can't reason with it when they aren't listening. Or they just do not understand the point of what someone else wrote.

Anyway I guess Dagon feels like she failed Lucifer over something or other, which makes her a kid desperately trying to prove herself to her father.

Sounds ominous about Kelly "lasting" and that the pregnancy will probably include all sorts of body horror and then kill her - I suppose more burning up like the vessels or something in that vein.

So I suppose now we have the whole do you let the baby get born at the expense of the mother dying stuff - I really really hope this is not some wacky anti-abortion message but actually makes this look WRONG. I mean you'd think Lucifer and a trusted underling not valuing the mother over the baby would be a good start that this is a bad POV on abortion because it's again choosing for the mother what's "best" and which life to value more, but, well.

I also just don't trust the writers because the message was so bad in 12x08 with all the men arguing over what to do about her baby and Kelly's characterisation to not even consider abortion seriously despite having a baby from rape, before we even get into the ethical horror show of what it may or may not be intentionally saying about aborting babies with problems you just don't think you can deal with as a parent regardless of their potential

I mean fucking hell can we just not have this story arc?

Wait if we're having more Mick flashbacks did he actually kill his friend or are we just wallowing on this

I can't tell with these writers if I should expect a plot twist or just over-writing :P

the Headmistress has a chessboard in front of her, currently all set up and not played. But in the actual game, her chess pieces are all over the board. Does she think she has them in neat lines, but they're actually running everywhere?

Who knows - Mick tries to complain he's still cleaning up after Toni's mess while the Headmistress thinks that they're hopeless because Toni said so. She doesn't want chess pieces she can't get neatly in line.

Not how the game works, ma'am

She seems to think so - "assimilate or eliminate" - she really does not understand the Winchesters and their role in the whole... cosmic order. You work around them, or with them, not over them. :P

Blah blah Kelly and Dagon - Dagon doing the bare minimum to keep Kelly alive while off the radar of everyone looking for her, clearly not caring about Kelly... Kelly demands to see a doctor because of course we need her to make stupid decisions.

I bet the baby has like, little horns and a pitchfork in there and the weird pains are because it's poking the inside of her tummy with the pitchfork.

Cackling comes over the ultrasound, somehow.

Also, better odds the doctor is randomly an angel, maybe because they've possessed every single doctor in the country waiting for Kelly to drop by because she wants pics of Satan jr to share on Facebook to make all her schoolfriends jealous.

The hangover scene - Sam and Dean have their sleeves rolled the exact same way. They really are still being a unified front. Of course, the whole table thing - they're in their rightful places while confronting a cheery Mick hanging out in their kitchen. Last interloper to do that was God.

Of course this implies that Sam and Dean keep the resources to make Bloody Marys in their fridge in the first place.

Which is completely and utterly horrifying, that Mick comes in right as they're asking each other about Mary, and makes himself a Bloody Mary.

Binge drinking: a national sport and we're GOOD at it

I am disappointed that Dagon did not just roll with the fake relationship thing because that would have been hilarious and maybe actually made me interested in the character dynamics going on here. She's not exactly done anything to make her look like more than the standard standoffish demon with old school lucifer loyalties and not much interest in being nice except for what it gets her. Of course there's a Meg vibe going on but like... without all the oozing charisma and personality that in Meg 2.0 was just in one eyebrow all the time. I mean, she could just stand there and eyebrow slightly and... gah, Rachel Miner just has ridiculous stage presence :P I don’t DISLIKE Dagon but she’s trapped in this writing and has no room to do anything fun or challenging.

I just took a little break to come up with a much better way to write this story with Mittens, and we've concluded if Kelly's not going to be HORRIFIED by what's happening inside her, she should be intentionally stoned out of her mind with nephilim baby brain, which Dagon has to deal with like "UGH" and long story short, she has to throw Kelly a baby shower to keep her happy and they sit there crocheting booties together and AGAIN would give us real character dynamics - Kelly wavering between "what's happening to me?" and wandering around their dilapidated hide out of the week wondering where to put the nursery while singing to herself, and Dagon grinding her teeth and helping Kelly pick out names all sweetly :P

I just want these poor actresses to have something real to work with

Can't see horns on the nephilim

oh well

*slowly decays on my chair into a neat little pile of dust while Crowley is being boring with Lucifer* I was just watching 9x02 before this, and Crowley chained up in the dungeon there, playing Kevin for all its worth, and oh my god that was excellent writing

boring

... I do not remember typing that

Oh, Michael reference. Cool. Cool cool cool. Nothing new about him, but with his presence in the narrative I have to wonder if Lucifer is lying or exaggerating.

Giving Crowley what he "wants" in order to make him bored or unsatisfied or whatever Lucifer seems to be playing with seems to go back to a much less interesting version of Crowley than the one who seemed to have a lot more fun torturing Lucifer in 12x15 with a genuinely clever way to BREAK him but oh well

the "you win" obviously is really fake and Lucifer attempting to manipuate Crowley while under his control and ugh Crowley does it so much better. He broke Kevin in like 3 lines of dialogue

Ooh Mary

She has a bigass gun - ha, as I was typing that she added another attachment and made it bigger

I suppose that's not a metaphor about their relationship - "I've learned not to argue"

"Major in murder, minor in mayhem?" okay we've switched to whichever of Buckner and Ross-Leming is the quippy one :P I like these lines, to be clear. Mary is fun. Mary and Ketch fascinates me, if you didn't notice me writing a 6k fic where they were married in the aftermath of the world without monsters :P

Oh my god is she actually going to talk about her life with Ketch? I was hoping nearer the start of the season she'd open up to Cas but obviously that would be too positive for the both of them. And now it's part of Ketch seducing her, so I'm gonna cut off that thought right here, since it would have been for sweet family reasons with Cas but sooo not where it's going here :P

She's wearing the same shirt with the XOXOX pattern from 12x02 and we can see the chain with the ring on but it's not really obvious the ring is there

Oh NOW we can see the ring, after the "Mrs Winchester, I believe you're drawn to danger" line and the camera changes to a wider shot and you can see the ring finally, like, they parted her plaid a little.

I kind of want to be more emo about Mary talking about her life, and I am in other contexts but this episode has exhausted me, so her laughing sadly about her quiet normal life not happening was kind of a non-moment to me >.> I suppose she's sort of coming through to a state of acceptance if you apply the stages of grief, but she's still dealing with it all wrong by not talking to her family - even Cas - but bonding with the worst possible character to bond with this season. I mean, c'mon, if she'd started hanging out with Crowley he'd have got weirdly attached in a non-creepy way and kind of hate himself for giving her honest girl talk advice :P

Mick can't seem to move without ominous music following him

Pfft there's another, worse Brit here now who is the Poshest and even drinking tea while he comes to chat with Mick. Mick being all rough and stubble-y and pointing a gun at him is immediately looking like a more relatable character in terms of what we're asked to relate to with hunters and all - he's picking up their mannerisms

The posh boy talks about another set of hands - NOT a Cas parallel or at least the worst freakin Cas parallel ever. I think in a way, if that line does mean anything, then the parallels to Heaven here, have Mick as the Cas here, and posh boy as the Establishment Cas is up against.

Oooh the blood is on the floor there next to Mick, but last episode Dean was standing directly on top of it so I missed that detail. Now it's just casually in the frame with Mick, reminding us and I guess therefore telling us what's on his mind. And, you know, showing us Mick framed with what was a huge pool of blood.

Okay I guess the guy who just murdered the doctor is a demon despite no eyes flashing because he didn't use an angel blade and an angel might have been a bit more, sorry have to murder you hope you understand - no idea why he did that unless Dagon's commanding some demons to clear up Kelly's mess, knowing her little mind control thingy might not be permanent. Or Crowley also is looking for the nephilim on the side to pointlessly torturing Lucifer.

I mean without the eyes he could have just been a really proactive hunter or BMoL

Oh gosh no Dean's on the phone to Cas, listening to his terrible voicemail. Help.

OH NO EILEEN'S HERE AND SHE'S SITTING IN THE 'COME AND GET ME' POSE

Sam you need to take her on that table right now

Dean will clear the heck out, he understands and thinks you're cute together

I literally did not listen to a thing they said while screeching about that *rewinds for plot*

Also just the whole Cas n Dean thing on one side and Sam n Eileen in the other room

OH gosh they saved the demon reveal for Eileen having a badass fucking showdown with him both showing their cards with him doing the eyes, and her pulling out an ANGEL BLADE

I know they're a lot cheaper in the current economy but I have to think Sam gave it to her from their spares pile, because of the Asa Fox thing on the one hand, that they ARE rare for hunters to best and angel in any way but also just this way it's sweet

but oh boy the Cas/Dean Sam/Eileen stuff that happens when you show her pulling an angel blade

Ah, the demon did work for Dagon

(Which means Crowley is flagging in this race, if he's even in it >.>)

But anyway Dean third-wheeling Sam and Eileen is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Sam is awkward and smiling! Eileen is gorgeous and smiling! Dean likes Eileen a lot with respect as a hunter (thinks it's cool she stabbed a demon in the heart) but is totally cut out of the final moment where Sam and Eileen clink beer bottles, I mean, he just *vanishes*

and then I realise - this is how Sam feels all the time when he's stuck in a scene with Dean and Cas :P

What is Crowley even doing

I suppose this scene is very blatantly illustrating how 2 stories can happen at once - Crowley thinks he's showing ultimate dominance, and Lucifer is subverting it by using the words Crowley wants to hear for his own ends, with actual wink wink nod nod to how he's the one saying how it will be. The demons are confused and hesitant about what they're clapping for... Not entirely sure which power is ruling them and how it's going to turn out for them - who do you support in this race? Crowley is the surface text, presenting what he thinks is obvious from the visuals. But Lucifer is the subtext, with his back turned to Crowley he's free to convey what ever else he wants, even to the point of painting the exact opposite story to what's going on

discord between surface and subtext.

Kelly seems to be genuinely trying to be totally normal about her pregnancy... is this denial?

Literally did not recognise Sam's voice... I knew it had to be SOMEONE putting on a voice but what the heck Sam can ACT?

I mean I'm not complaining I love it but AAAH

Also me whenever Sam and Eileen are on screen together: hands over my mouth, eyes all big and anime shiny, faint squealing whistle escaping from between my fingers

Aw Mick no don't ruin this party

Eileen: "no one cares" *continues making heart eyes at her* *sam sends heart eyes at her*

Oh god we're all in love with Eileen, this is not going to end well, because I can't fight Sam for her. I am smol and he will kill me.

Anyway more class struggle between the BMoL and hunters... they have files on them but think they have no training, despite the fact they survived. I mean, Eileen has made it as a deaf hunter. Can they not appreciate how fucking badass she must be? :P Learning on the job with live monsters means any hunter who makes it so far has not been killed by literally every “class” or “test” they ever had.

Blah blah Sam gets handed the colt while standing in the shadow of a bridge blah blah 1x21 parallels. In 1x21 they did not get the shot they wanted. Although Dean was handed the Colt by John (who Mick is now standing in for) and gave it to Sam before he didn't make the shot. I wonder if Sam will give the gun to someone else.

(For no reason other than that she's here, I'd love to see Eileen do it, although of course it would take away some narrative impact from a major character parallel. But I love her so)

Well that was an easy kidnap

Kelly really is not coming out of this well. I'm going to blame as much as I can on baby brain. She's such a pawn in this narrative and it sucks on a grand scale.

*nyoom*

Is Dean just taking her straight to the others for them to maybe shoot her? I mean, what is the actual plan here

*Dean continues missing Cas out loud* *doesn't care about this other guy who showed up instead*

Anyway a whole bunch of blokes are here to talk to Kelly about it, though she's now too hugely preggers for take-backsies

Sam wants to help, Mick has the unsympathetic POV that the baby won't even love Kelly because it's a monster, Kelly actually gets to say out loud that she was used and is upset about the Lucifer thing (woah, a whole line of dialogue about it :P) and that she loves her baby anyway.

Blonde posh twat just wants to kill her immediately, which causes Dean to go into human shield mode to Kelly

Eileen's just like, not everyone is looking directly at me, what is going on

*individual reaction shots for literally everyone being thrown around*

*everyone shoots Dagon pointlessly*

elizabethrobertajones has anyone talked about how Kelly looked when Dagon came to get her

mittensmorgul Not that I've seen... How did she look?

elizabethrobertajones she has such muted reactions to everything but in this case Dagon walks right up to her and Kelly says nothing but is leaning away reluctantly and then Dagon grabs her hand and pulls her and the shot of her being led off screen is like this defeated school kid who was caught going truant

mittensmorgul She knows she's still being used...

elizabethrobertajones yeah NOW I feel sorry for her because she seems defeated and used and broken

mittensmorgul yeah.

elizabethrobertajones it's just sucky they didn't write her well enough before to build any of that up or like... actually make her look genuinely depressed and unwell

mittensmorgul yep they just made her seem like a flake

elizabethrobertajones that one little defeated kid being taken home moment where Dagon grabs her hand says EVERYTHING but they had like FOUR SCENES together already and I didn't see this!!

YES Eileen has the Colt!!!! GO GO EILEEN

I guess she shoots british blonde dickhead instead because he was gonna shoot Kelly or something

Colt slow mo! It really does slow down the flow of time every time it's shot.

Aw, crap, she shot the blonde loser instead but because Dagon did, well, the 1x21 thing, and we got to see how a Colt kills a human (which I ALWAYS wondered, because it can't just make you sort of die normally from gunshot wounds - you have to, you know, DIE of a kill anything gun wound, so messy, quick and awful :P)

Anyway Eileen NOOOO you look so horrified :( I was just saying to Mittens her Cas mirroring piles on and I can't even think what this is, just that she now feels like shit for things which aren't her fault but she has this death on her conscience, and it didn't even happen in defence of anyone, it was just he stood in the way like an idiot and Dagon didn't feel like getting shot today and knew exactly what was happening because Eileen hesitated just long enough to let her disappear.

... Does Dean actually know the Colt is in play because UGH we were robbed of that reveal

MICK NO

EILEEN IS PRECIOUS AND THIS IS DEFINITELY CROSSING A LINE. YOU LEAVE HER THE FUCK ALONE

I guess the Code IS brainwashing, and this is again a Cas parallel - this would be a crypt scene kind of moment for him except that the cute love story is between Sam and Eileen, and Mick's interloping on that with the brainwashedness and the whole... already killed his puppy because the Headmistress said so flashbacks, so what is random old hunter Eileen to do with anything, but even someone he openly disliked as much as whatsisface was a BMoL and should be defended

honestly he should remember Eileen's being defended by 2 legacies and she herself is a legacy and I think if I remember correctly was raised by a hunter with connections to the Irish chapter?

We're crossing over into the final 10 minutes of a Buckleming episode here

Sam argues for free will, which is a bit of a turn around when Dean's right there (not that Sam isn't about free will - they ARE Team Free Will after all, but Dean tends to lead the way on this while Sam has a much more interesting relationship with it for other reasons), but hey, it's a Buckleming episode - themes can bounce around pretty wildly and get connected to anyone. :P Sam's been all in the centre of attention and having a lot of big dramatic moments lately. Plus, crypt scene parallel and all, he had to talk the brainwashed person out of killing the one he loves so that at least the romance angle is in there somewhere. It's like, one step removed from the original, but allows Sam to interject himself into the scene, without getting tangled up in crypt scene stuff himself (don't think he's ever really done more than a few cursory I know you're in there moments, back and forth with being the one in there or the one saying it, which were MotW little things and not part of the big narrative, just the supporting mirrors :P).

Of course also parallels the subverted crypt scene, by the crypt scene obsessed director in 12x10, where again Ishim was used as an intermediary to break the back and forth-ing of the crypt scene repeats between Dean and Cas, and didn't need a I know you're in there, but again boiled it down simply to protecting a loved one in a particular framing playing off previous iterations (10x22, which was much more in the formula) - Sam gets this parallel where he can fight for his loved one without it being all twisted up and weird in possession that THEY have to deal with, just the attacker. So it looks nothing like the actual crypt scene, guy in a long tan coat and scruff trying to kill a loved one because brainwashing aside, but is still part of the organic growth of the way this subtext has gone.

Aaand Mary took off the ring. Do not want John to see this.

Ketch like, wow, I thought I'd just end up killing you.

Charming.

Flash some more of your excellent calves at her to make her forget you said that.

(I am personally offended by his calves as I made Mary practically gag over him having pallid calves in said fic where they were married. Dammit DHJ can you stop being amazing because I need to hate every aspect of your character down to his calves and you're like, hi, I'm going to sit in this ridiculous pose now so you can see my calves are indeed the same colour as all the rest of me and not the garish calves of the man who wears a suit all year until you drag him to the beach)

Anyway Ketch is like blah blah thanks for giving up your family and throwing yourself into hunting and my bed with no strings attached, isn't this grand, and Mary's like, uh, I like my family and I want to have it all, hunting and family, and Ketch is like wow I just started to like you and now I really have to kill you and oh dear.

Oh dearie dearie me.

Imminent attempt on her life by Ketch aside, I think Mary has a bit of a misunderstanding about hunting and family - 12x03 was them trying to show her how their life actually was, but she was too messed up to appreciate it and actually needed the space. But it was trying desperately to build a life where Mom comes along on hunts and that's cool because we hunt and Mom hunts and she's here, so... uh, this is what we do now.

But instead Mary split off from them entirely - 12x06 showed she hunted in secret away from her family in the past, and kept the two completely partitioned - I think something Sam also has issues with although he had been more open to the idea of marrying someone in the life, said in a Robbie episode before the Robbie episode where Eileen showed up and uh hey guess who's here right now... Uh, slightly sidetracked (slightly hit by a massive shipping container that is Sam and Eileen)... But yeah, Mary needs to reconcile that she has a hunting family, that that isn't a bad thing, and the two things can coexist perfectly normally. They don't NEED her to get rid of all the monsters and in a way she's talking to Ketch about two life choices, to hunt and have a family, ignoring the detail that she and Ketch are on an extermination run against all monsters, so eventually there won't BE hunting to define herself by so she won't be able to have it all because one part will be over... and of course, the more she goes on like this, the more precarious it seems for the other part too. Dean's worrying about not hearing from Mary although he's making a bigger fuss about not hearing from Cas. And their arcs are paralleled, though to obviously different ends that Cas is romantically estranged from Dean and Mary's estranged from being his mom.

Blah blah Lucifer, he's shirtless, exposition is still happening, Crowley's found himself a hacker to crack the spells on him. he just made it out of this scene but I suppose next Buckleming episode he's queued for untimely death of a black guy.

Him leaving and the sounds of the Bunker door overlap nicely.

Eileen <3

(She hasn't done anything yet, she just looks sad)

Sam and Dean agree with me. Dean says nice things, and then Sam gently touches her shoulder (I am officially, like, noped out of these DeanCas parallels I just can't) and turns her around and signs to her and and he's touchign her hairrrrr and aannanodsigrdoh epjddpawhtiwoeugipeow[pe[wkgo[rdf

I'm all overcome with emotions about Sam touching her hair all gently and her weeping into his chest and I can't deal with Kelly and Dagon scenes immediately after. Now Kelly really is the scolded child who tried to run away, and Dagon is showing Kelly FINALLY that she only cares about the baby in no uncertain terms (it seemed fairly obvious in their first scene but I guess it just wasn't obvious enough to Kelly, who has the worst case of baby brain ever, which I always thought was a thing where you put the kettle back in the fridge after you made tea or something, not trusting a Prince of Hell with your unborn nephilim baby and your own life)

okay now Kelly has a nearly appropriate horror level to what's going on with her baby

Oh noes Headmistress has shown up

More schoolboys getting scolded

Everyone is children

But Mick is our inside guy at least. He actually wants to argue against it because he passed a crypt scene test. I still don't know if he's gonna survive but I mean, at least he had this? Sometimes cool characters get an entire backstory right before they get murdered and I can honestly see this ending with Ketch being in the room because he's about to slice Mick's throat, probably with the same dagger he once killed his BFF with back in Kendricks because why not :P

Which means Mick softening up only serves a metaphorical purpose unless he left some inside way for the Winchesters, like idk his bottle of tomato juice and recipe for a Bloody Mary turns out to be the code or something

WHO KNOWS

Well me if I ever finished the episode

She asks if the hunters obey him, but Mick obeyed them >.>

Mick's chest hair is trying to get out of the room before him...

Dang, sir. I was gonna joke about it during last episode when he was hanging out in the back of the car, but I didn't feel like it was worth mentioning and i now regret that comment not happening completely; it's definitely actually heightening the tension here, with his half-open shirt.

Nooooo they can't kill Eileen... Why is she on their shitlist? I mean I know why but this is so unfair

MICK IS REBELLING

he is so gonna die because he's doing the Naomi Gadreel Metatron redemption moment

especially because they're all symbolic useless deaths; I think Gadreel was the only one who even made any sort of real difference

RIP Mick

Your scruff will be missed

Dean you can not sigh like that about Cas, with the big soulful heaving of shoulders and audibly wet breath and all I mean

someone might think you were in love with him or something, the way you're carrying on

Incidentally I thought there was something fishy about it and Mittens confirmed to me it's literally 2 days later and Sam and Dean appear not to have seen each other since shit went down, but Sam was the last person to talk to Eileen and know what she's doing, so I'm guessing Sam and Eileen spent 2 days in Sam's room rearranging the furniture.

I am beyond proud of my boy.

HEY Dean gets the Colt. I mean it's almost enough to fill the gap between Sam x Eileen and Dean x Colt and forget Destiel :P

It parallels him and Ketch again (he also had sweet talky words to the Colt, which mirrored back to Dean getting her in 6x18), so I'm starting to feel like he kills Ketch with it? Like, symbolically needing to use it on a human person instead of the monster big bad or something? I know Eileen already accidentally killed a dude with it, but I mean, Dean and Ketch seem to have a reckoning coming, whether Dean knows Ketch and Mary hooked up or not (although, narratively, ends up heaping on weirdass subtext whether he knows or not >.> Dean vs the step father kind of thing)... this would be sort of neat.

Poor Mick just laying there.

Oh I typed that thing about Dean and Ketch before the Headmistress threw down the files for the Winchesters with Dean's on top, so, yeah. That's their reckoning a'coming.

It's 1am and I really have not conclusive thoughts about this except that I am delighted Sam and Eileen hooked up and she fled the country instead of sticking around making me nervous about her getting the hit on her, and Sam did a bad Irish accent earlier because he's like, goofily in love with her, so I guess he might just like, randomly fly to Ireland in the season finale to help her and they get married while they're out there and -

Oh and also whenever Cas comes back Dean narratively has full permission to take him back to his room and not let him out for an entire two days.

#12x17 #season 12 spoilers #I loved a lot of this but #buckleming appropriate wank for ts #for all the bits that were like... hey pacing and characterisation are words in the dictionary #my stuff #rape mention cw #poor old Kelly >.>

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squaredancing-weston · 7 years

Text

para || Westrose: Spaghetti-O’s, 12/10/2016

Tagging: @wmhs-marleyrose and @squaredancing-weston

Time: Saturday evening, 10 December 2016

Setting: Treble Titans Spaghetti Dinner Fundraiser, Lima, OH

Summary: Brody invites Marley to join him for Spaghetti, Marley records Hairspray! Live for them to watch afterwards

Part 3

Brody rolled his eyes in amusement. “That certainly seems to be the case,” he agreed, reaching under his seat to grab a water bottle and handing it to her. “Here,” he offered. “Just, you know-- to kind of rinse out before we head in.” He was pretty sure no one would notice anything off about the two of them, but sometimes it was more of an internal projection, and Brody had no idea how many times Marley had done this kind of thing, so better safe than sorry.

Adjusting his jacket to the cold and offering his arm to her, Brody led the way inside the fundraiser. He handed the student at the entrance their tickets and then slowly sauntered inside, taking in the group. They were still on time, but the place was already filled with parents and people wandering around, or sitting at their tables chatting away with each other. Brody’s attention was captured by a table of about five women and one man, two middle-aged blondes waving enthusiastically to get his attention. “And here we go…” he murmured, radiating a friendly smile as he raised his free hand in greeting and led Marley over to their table.

“I'm pretty sure it's another name for Ginger Cookie.” Marley mused. She has never had them Herself, but she knows old people like ginger. “If you're Hugh Hefner, or Mick Jagger, does that make me the twenty something?” She asked with a wolfish grin.

“Don't roll your eyes at me.” She teased, taking the water bottle from him, and taking a long sip. She was pretty certain no one would figure out what she did, but it was needed. Running her hand through her hair again, she tugged on her coat, and got out of the car.

Brody offered her his arm, and Marley grinned. Taking his arm, they headed into the school, which was pretty packed. She kind of watched Brody. He seemed in his element here, which was pretty adorable. Two women spotted him, and she grinned. “Talk less, smile more?” She asked jokingly as they headed over to the table. The two blonds instantly beeline for Brody, and Marley grinned as she watched them.

“I don’t know-- snap sounds crunchy. Ginger cookies? Not crunchy. Maybe they’re the cookie form of gingerbread…” Brody could not believe he was actually considering the semantics involved in cookies, but it was amusing, even if he knew very little about the subject. “Shouldn’t you be an expert on this stuff? You are the resident baker?” he reminded her. He gave a light chuckle. “I don’t know-- you’re not blonde. Or in a swimsuit. Or pregnant,” he pointed out with a smirk. “But you are pretty cute…”

“Yes ma’am,” he laughed, his eyes settling back in place as he pulled his own jacket on and tugged open the door.

Inside the room, he gave a light scoff at Marley’s assessment. “Stand still and look pretty,” he replied, before bracing himself for the hens coming at him. “Hey gals!” he greeted exuberantly, releasing Marley in order to allow himself to be hugged by the older women, who instantly began clucking about how happy they were to see him and where had he been? “I am sorry, girls, but Trixie was not being cooperative in this weather,” he apologized. “Michelle, Diane, have you ladies met Marley Rose? She teaches lowerclass English and Literature here.” The women instantly turned toward Marley with matching enthusiasm, taking her hand and instantly surrounding both of them to lead them to their table. “It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Rose,” Diane gushed. “Are you with the Music Program as well? We were all so surprised that the administration simply handed it over to Ms. Berry-- in her first year! Can you believe! Not that she’s not doing wonderfully with the program…”

They were off and Brody leaned over to whisper into Marley’s ear. “Diane’s got two girls in school-- the senior is on the Reds, the sophomore’s vying for some of Rachel’s solos. You can tell how well-over it’s going,” he added with a smirk.

“I think they are. They’re like harder.” Marley has never had one in her life, but they were hard, right? “I mean I’ve never really had ginger snaps before, so I really can’t speak about the texture. I’m sorry.” She pouted, raising her eyebrow. “Umm… I find that offensive.” She poked him, and shook her head. “I’m hot. Cute wouldn’t have done that in the car.” She reminded him.

“I can do that.” Marley whispered to him, as they headed inside. She was impressed by how good Brody was at this. The little old women loved him, and she smiled when he introduced her to them. “It’s nice to meet you!” Marley exclaimed as they shook her hand. “I am not, that is all on Ms. Berry, and I think she is doing a great job!” She smiled at them, and glanced over at Brody.

“It seems like it is going wonderfully.” Marley teased, tucking her hair back, and glancing around. “I didn’t realize these were so popular.” She confessed, having never been to one before.

“Well then how do you know that they’re actually not a thing, and in fact just a cheesy horror movie with creepy gingers?” Brody pointed out, enjoying the game. “Hey-- you’re the one that wanted to be a bunny or a groupie-- I was just pointing out the issues. Although yes-- that was hot. Not cute.” He flashed her a grin, because uh, yeah-- that was hot.

Brody grinned as Marley turned on the charm for the moms as they made their way to their table. “Oh yes, a great job, I suppose,” Diane conceded, nodding. “I mean, after all, she did come from that fancy school up in New York, didn’t she? Still, I do wish they’d bring someone a little less...radical to properly coach our kids.” There was a loud ahem as Michelle on the other side cleared her throat, eyebrows pointedly shifting between the two women, and Diane released her grip on Brody to place her hand on her chest. “Oh, but of course I didn’t mean it like all teachers from New York are bad, Brody. We absolutely adore having you here-- my Kelly is so excited for this season, and the Winter Spectacular.” Brody gave a quick and knowing glance to Marley. “Of course not-- sometimes New York can be a whole state of mind,” he assured her. “And I’m glad to have Kelly again-- she’s one of my top girls this year.” Seemingly assured, the Michelle turned back to Marley. “So Ms. Rose, where did you come from? I’m sure we would have remembered such a pretty face as an alumni.”

The women went back to their nattering, and Brody smirked. “Oh yeah-- swimmingly. The Screaming Cats are looking to give her a scholarship. But Kelly’s pretty good.” He glanced over at the table. “Yeah, well, when you live in a nothing town, you take all opportunities to ‘get involved’--ie gossip-- very seriously. I’m not sure there’s anything else to do here.” Brody laughed before biting his lip to stifle the noise and draw attention to them from the clucking hens ahead of them.

“I mean I think Ginger Snaps are cookies. Are they not supposed to be?” Marley questioned, her head tilting to the side. “I mean I was joking, i’m glad you agree that was hot, because it would be awkward if you called it cute.” Wrinkling her nose, Marley grinned

Turning the charm on for the mothers was pretty easy, they generally liked her, so she had no issue with that. Her lip twitched as Diane spoke, and Michelle quited her, then they began complimenting Brody. “He really is great at what he does.” Marley grinned over at Brody, and back at Michelle. “While I grew up all around, I was an Army Brat, I am actually from Virginia.” Marley blushed at the compliment. “I wasn’t fortunately enough to attend McKinley High when I was in school.”

The women were amusing, and Marley wondered if most parents were like this. Peering over at Brody, she nodded. “Yeah? I mean that’s good.” She said, looking around. “Yeah that is true. Small town living, huh?” She shook her head, and ran her hand across her legs. “Is the spaghetti good at least?”

Brody laughed in concession, “Yeah, probably. Apparently just not very popular with normal people. Like fruitcake-- which is not a cookie, I realize.” He bobbed his head and smiled, “Well, I’m glad you’re not planning on dying your hair or knocking yourself up just to prove we do alright together,” he replied. “Yeah, cute probably wouldn’t be the right word there. Poor choice. But you’re cute, so that’s something.”

The Hens clucked appreciatively at the information Marley provided, no doubt storing it away to talk about later. He gave a soft chuckle, “Yeah, small town living. It’s pretty standard fair-- spaghetti, sauce, garlic bread. Pretty much worth the ten bucks each we paid for it. But you won’t choke,” he assured her with a smirk.

They joined the rest of the group, who were all very excited to see the new arrivals. Marley, of course, was especially interesting to them, Brody noticed, although he could have guessed she would be. They were like birds-- always fascinated by any shiny object that came into sight. Luckily, the timing allowed them to get up and grab dinner, and when they sat down many of the women were still very interested in discussing Rachel’s ambitions and intentions, some of which Brody could offer insight to, and some of which he just leaned back and ate for. It was inevitable, of course, that the conversation would shift though. “So Brody, is Ms. Rose here your date?” Laura asked with a smile, and Brody kept his expression easy. He wouldn’t have brought Marley, after all, if he wasn’t able to handle the attention.

“Marley actually didn’t have any plans this weekend, Laura, so I thought it would be kind to include her in mine,” he corrected, reaching for his water glass. “I’m afraid I am still happily wearing my Single Badge,” he added apologetically.

Laura seemed disappointed, but Marie beside her turned her gaze on Marley, “And what about you Marely? Someone as adorable as you must have a boyfriend? Husband? By now?”

“Fruitcake is disgusting. I don’t understand why someone would eat that.” She wrinkled her nose in mild disgust, because fruitcake had to be worse than ginger snaps. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. I like my hair, and I rather not be pregnant right now.” She commented. “I will never live down my cutiness, will I? It is like a curse.”

The Hens made her nervous, and Marley understood why he called them such. They were like a group of Hens clucking around. “Oh I am sure it is.” She commented, more people joined them, and Marley felt shy almost, because she really wasn’t a fan of crowds, but she made her way through it. One of them asked if she was Brody’s date, and Marley let him answer it. “He figured I’d have more fun here, than I would on my own.” They seemed to crowd her when he mentioned being single. Marley shifted a bit, and shook her head. “No boyfriend, or husband yet. I am still fairly young, I figured I’d enjoy my time as a single woman, before I settle down.”

“I used to say they were practicing for Fear Factor, but I don’t think that shows on anymore,” Brody laughed. “Do you remember that show? Blech.” Not that he’d ever had fruitcake, but he’d had the bits of fruit that went in the thing, and he had not been impressed. “Yeah, you look pretty damn good right now,” he agreed, combing his fingers lightly through her brown locks. “No, but at least you’ve got the secondary sexy to go with it. That’s got to ease the burden, right?”

Marley seemed to be handling herself alright amidst the group-- while Brody admitted he had tried to warn her, being confronted by five women simultaneously (and one poor husband dragged along for the occasion) was still probably more than she’d expected. “After all,” he added, “what better way to spend the Saturday than amongst ladies such as yourself?” The women all wore bright grins, eager to include Marley in their group. “Well, of course you will,” Cheryl agreed. “We are the fun ones, after all.” Brody had to laugh along with the Hens on that one.

The women glanced from one to another not-so-subtly, and Brody bit on his lip to hide a grin. They were like the trolls from Frozen sometimes; well-intentioned, but a little over the top. “Really? Well, if you’re not dating now, my nephew is about your age, and he is a wonderful young man,” Michelle suggested. “He’s also quite the reader-- he’s just finished up that spy series? The one with that cute actor?” Brody rolled his eyes-- he’d met Scott, and he was nice enough, but he didn’t really think he’d be able to keep up with Marley. Marley needed more than just a nice guy-- she needed some excitement, some spirit. But it wasn’t his place to push her one way or another-- his sense of logic argued that especially if they were just friends messing around, he should arguably be encouraging her to get out and date other people, just to keep the line between them established.

The night wore on, and the topics changed quickly. Dance obviously became the main one, because, after all, the season was beginning and they had a championship to win. Costumes, song choices (and some gripes about how music had lost some of its integrity), and some of the Hens with older kids discussing their hopes for their kids-- winning teams could often lead to college acceptances, and sometimes scholarships, after all. Cheryl sighed, “Of course, I think Hannah could get into any school she wants, when she’s older,” to which Brody glanced at Marley and mouthed Freshman, before the woman seemed to remember Marley again. “Marley, you teach freshman English, you said? Do you have my daughter Hannah in your class? Knapp? You know how teenagers are-- always so vague about their classes.” She shook her head in amusement before looking on with interest to Marley’s response.

“Oh don’t even mention that show.” Marley shuddered, she could never stomach that show. Even thinking of it made her a bit woozy. “Ugh I do.” And it wasn’t fond memories. Brody ran his hand through her hair, and Marley smiled, she was tempted to kiss him, but thought better than that. “I guess so. You look pretty handsome yourself.. Taste even better.” She teased.

The Hens weren’t all that bad, though gossipy middle aged women were pretty scary. “Oh I agree. I am having a fantastic time.” Marley grinned at the women, looking over at Brody, then back at them. “Oh I can see that. You all are wonderful.”

Marley had a feeling something was coming before it happened. Glancing over at Brody, then back at Michelle, she paled at bit. “Wait what?” She asked quietly, because she wasn’t here to get a date, in fact she wasn’t even sure if it was appropriate to go out this way. “Oh no, it’s fine!” She exclaimed, smiling. “I mean.. You don’t need to, really.” Though she was fairly certain she might have a date with this guy soon, and that kind of sucked.

Marley ate her spaghetti, and watched as they danced on, when Cheryl began speaking to her. “Yes, yes I do.” She said smiling. “I do have Hannah in my classroom”! She was a smart girl, but easily distracted. Marley has had to redirect her more than once, but she wasn’t going to mention that to her mother. “She is a wonderful student! Very sweet girl!”

#ttl #Marley Rose #para #Spaghetti-Os #p. Marley #fundraiser #Treble Titans #Spaghetti Feed #Westrose

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