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#weird short dude that's been in like a thousand bands
mikeyswayy · 1 month
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STOP, WHYS HE SOUND LIKE A DINOSAUR
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crplpunkklavier · 10 months
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obsessed with how klavier's canon timeline just fully makes no sense.
his trial against phoenix is his first, right. at this point, the gavinners are already famous enough to perform expensive concerts, due to their debut single hitting platinum overnight. we don't know when this happened, just that it had to be before the gramarye trial, because klavier talks about it there. ok.
when kristoph talks to him before the trial, in the flashback, we briefly see klavier's office, that already seems to have guitars all over the wall. that's not necessarily an inconsistency, it just means that even before he ever went to court, klavier had that office, and enough money to cram it full of guitars, which also suggests they aren't necessarily like a carefully curated collection, but were in fact just some 16~17 year old guy who just got a lot of money and bought 50 guitars at once in some sort of teenage frenzy.
we also don't know when exactly he took the bar exam, only that he took it in europe. obviously, it was before that first trial, so he might have even been younger than 17, but we don't know.
my favorite part, though, is that he says that daryan was the first detective he'd ever worked with, which can also mean a number of really weird things. clearly, the gavinners existed before klavier started prosecuting, so,
either he knew daryan before daryan was a detective, and they started the band together and then both also started into their law enforcement lives, in which case its hilariously strange of klavier to say that he was the first detective he ever worked with. like, i guess, but you also knew him when you were in high school.
or the gavinners existed without daryan for a short time, which seems unlikely, but would also be really funny given they had a platinum hit without this dude then. and then klavier starts working with a detective and is like hey you should join my glam rock band. yeah youve heard of us
or klavier worked with him on a case he just didnt prosecute, either because it didnt go to trial, or maybe he worked on it for school or something, which then implies that either daryan somehow made detective before he hit 20, or daryan is SEVERAL years older than klavier. which, according to canon ages, he is not. they're the same age. but maybe daryan pretends to be 5 years younger or something. wouldn't put it past him. or he pretended to be older with a fake ID so they'd let him into the force (also hilarious). because we know daryan didn't study abroad, since he canonically has never left the country.
and then lastly there's the fact that it is heavily implied that klavier just.... stopped prosecuting after the gramarye trial. or at least the judge hadn't seen him around in a while, and klavier doesn't deny that he was absent, allegedly because his band got so big. we're made to believe that he only returns once he hears of apollo, and yet his office looks the exact same, as far as we can see in pictures. which once again leaves us with two possibilities: klavier's office was left completely untouched for 7 years, or he moved out of there after one trial, and then came back 7 years later and decided, yep, i should put my guitars up again the exact same way i did when i was 17.
there's also a thousand other ways of reading all this really. i honestly think this was all just the writers sort of winging it, and it's not like the mason system doesn't fully fuck up the timeline in that game anyway, so i don't think any of these are any more or less canon than others. they're just fun theories to play around with. what the fuck was this guy doing.
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usaigi · 1 year
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Chapter 2 - Deal With The Devil
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Read on Ao3 | ⇜previous chapter | next chapter⇝
Summary (T) Earth 65 AU where Elektra is Daredevil and was hell-bent on killing her ex Matt Murd(er)ock but she’s in therapy now and is channeling her energy into helping Spider-Women defeat him instead. Semi-comics/Marvel movies crossover. Elektra and Matt are mostly based on the Netflix version and Gwen is based on Into the Spiderverse.
“Can I ask why Murdock specifically? I know he’s related to Fisk but I thought you took care of Fisk. And surely there are other people high up in the crime syndicate pyramid scheme.”
“Cut off the head another takes its place. Murdock is just picking up where Fisk left off.”
“So ah. Ok this is going to sound like super ableist but Murdock is blind, right? I totally get how he can still be a leader of the mob with like accommodation and stuff but. Can’t we just,” Gwen punches the air a couple of times. 
Gwen never had the fortune of fighting Fisk herself but hearing from her dad, that man is built like an unmovable wall. Even if he hadn’t been legally untouchable for the last decade until Daredevil swopped in, he’s strength was borderline superhuman. And apparently, he has the temper of a child, with tantrums loud enough to flip cars. And they say girls are emotional. 
So what exactly is Elektra so concerned about? Murdock is just a dude. Kinda look like a Chad but in a rich kid I-went-to-Columbia-and-played-polo way. Probably owns a pair of pastel-colored shorts. 
“You’ve never fought him?” Elektra asks, eyes squinting slightly. 
“No? I don’t make it a habit in fighting people with disabilities,” Gwen says, causing Elektra to break out into a wry laugh, turning away to hide her face from Gwen. Guess she finds ableism funny. Canceled. 
“The chemicals that blinded him also enhanced his remaining sense, his earring, smell, touch, and taste. They all like work together to create a sort of radar. You know, like the blind girl from Avatar. Combine that with his years of martial arts training with the Hand, he’s a deadly opponent.” 
“The what?”
“The Hand. Yeah I know, stupid name. Cults always have dumb names,” heh true. What kind of dumb name is Scientology? What’s scientific about paying a buttload of money to reach enlightenment? Just smoke a blunt and look at the city lights like everyone else. “We’re called the Chaste so it’s not like it’s any better,”
“Who is we?” Gwen asks, tilting her head ever so slightly. Wait, is Elektra also in a cult? 
“You want a role call or what?” Elektra says dryly. 
“I mean, I’d like to know who’s on my team. Like what if someone joins us and I think they’re with Murdock and I accidentally punch them,” Gwen asks. 
“Then you apologize..?”
“Well yeah but–”
“You don’t have to worry about that now, tonight's thing is just us.” Tonight? Don’t worry about it? Gwen was under the impression that Elektra was going to train on something, not jump straight into a mission. And for someone who scolded her yesterday for being reckless, the ‘plan’ is as vague as a punk show poster. Band: Spider-Women and Daredevil. Time: sometime after ten and before we’re all corporate slaves to The Man …The Hand? BYOW (Bring Your Own Weapons). 
“Ok so. Murdock took Fisk's spot at the Kingpin?”
“Sorta. I think he’s still taking some orders from Fisk but Murdock has his own agenda. Fisk is just a capitalist, Murdock is connected with the Hand.”
“And what does the Hand want?”
“What does any secret ninja want? World control or immortality or something.”
“And what does your cult want?”
“You’ve seen Midsommar, right?” Blink blink, sorry what? “Kidding, duh. You’re so serious. The Chast isn’t a cult. It’s a thousand-year-old organization aiming to stop the Hand,” Elektra ‘clarifies,’ heavy on the air quotes. No one in a cult ever admits to being in a cult.   
“Quacks like a cult, walks like a cult,” Gwen says shrugging, throwing her hands up. “Hey, no judgment! I know you Hollywood people are into some weird crap.” Is anyone else in it? It would be kinda cool if Elliphant is in the cult. Maybe Gwen would be down to join the cult if there are cool people in it. 
“Bestie, if you wanna join, you’re in,” Elektra gives her a playful wink. “Ok, today’s mission should be easy enough, my sources say Murdock’s at a party on the Upper East side so we don’t have to worry about him. The Hand is expecting an important delivery, some sort of weapon. Murdock paid the tracksuit mafia to meet his guys at the docks. Plan is I’m going to fight the Hand and you’re going to swing in a couple of minutes later and help with the tracksuits. I want Murdock to think there’s a mole working with the tracksuits and to turn against them. Or at least think they’re incompetent. Since this is our first team-up, he’ll have no suspicion that we coordinated the attack–” 
“Wait, last question,” Gwen interrupts.
“Yeah?”
“How do you know so much about Murdock?” Elektra really seems to know Murdock, his location, his thought patterns. Not to accuse her of being a mole but… Elektra is a stranger who found her in a dumpster. 
“It’s ugh whatever,” Elektra stutters. Pull her scarf up to hide her face in a hurry.
Oh!
“No way,” Gwen gasps. “No. Fucking. Way.”
“I don’t like how much you curse.” Gwen can see Elektra's transparent attempt to change the subject. 
“You slept with Murdock!?” 
“No no, it’s worse. I dated him.”
“You what!? How long? Why? When? WHY!?”
“Long time. You do dumb stuff when you’re young and in love. Wait, how old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“Brutal.” Yeah, that's fair. “If the mission goes well we can have brunch and gossip tomorrow but, let’s go Spider-Women.” 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Ok, plan. You’re going down there and you’re going to fight those dudes in black and my dudes are the ones in the tracksuits, right? But like when I swing in, you’re gonna start fighting all the dudes right? And that must be the container with the weapon, right DD?” Elektra’s gone? Gwen looks around, confused. “Daredevil?”
Oh. 
There is she. 
Slicing through one guy and kicking another guy in the face. Thanks for the heads up. They didn’t even get to say, “Go team!”  
The tracksuits are hiding out being some containers, shooting chaotically at Murdock’s guys– oh they really are ninjas, with masks and swords and everything. Not just some Naruto cosplayers, they seem legit. 
Although, if anyone care to consult Gwen, the Hand ninjas and the Russian Tracksuit guys should totally switch uniforms so the ninjas can look like the lady from Kill Bill. 
Gwen keeps a close eye on Elektra, observing her fight style. Like herself, Elektra increments a lot of acrobatics, varying from flips to jump kicks. But where Gwen has a background in dance, Elektra looks like she has a background in Taekwondo or Capoeira. Every move is deliberate, every move is dripped with confidence and power. Quick and efficient punches to major pressure points. Elektra fights like a tiger–hiding behind obstacles and blending into the shadows before prancing on her victim, and kneeing them right in the neck.  
Ouch. 
Surely it’s been enough time? Has it? Maybe Gwen would know if Elektra actually went over the plan but it’s fine . It’s fine!
Gwen, you came in too soon, MJ’s voice echoes. 
Never too early for a badass dumb solo. 
One-two-three, Spider-Women swings in. Kick one guy and push him into another, causing them to trip over a pile of trash as she lands gracefully on the top of a shipping container. Guitar lick, the crowd cheers, and, “hey guys.” It’s Spider-Women, woosh. “Love the tracksuits, so Y2K. Are they Juicy Coutier?”
Gwenhe thwaps one gun out of one tracksuit's hand and throws it at another dude's face, hitting him right in the noise. She webs one dude and webs this other guy and bop.
“Come on, guys! At least make the fight juicy!”   
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The fight doesn’t make long, despite being outmatched, the Hand and the tracksuits are severally outskilled. Gwen is careful not to get too close to Elektra, hoping that none of the goons think they’re coordinating this. Still, she does web one guy's sword out of the way, giving Elektra a perfect opening. 
“Thanks,” she just says. 
Soon enough, someone shouts something in Japanese and someone else says something in Russian and they all skirt away. Gwen tries to run after them before Elektra stops her.
“Help me open the container instead,” Elektra says, prying the door. Gwen helps before peeking her head in, anxiously anticipating a legendary sword or spear or bomb. 
Not this. Anything but this. 
“It’s just a kid…” Gwen says apprehensively, “Elektra, he’s just a kid.”
“...Fuck. I ah–I ahh I have a friend on the police force. I’ll call him and the paramedics. Can you stay with him?” She nods, putting her hands up before carefully approaching the boy. Poor kid couldn’t be more than ten years old, fear painting his face. 
“Hi,” Gwen says softly, “hi, don’t be scared, I’m not going to hurt you. Here–” she crouches down. “What’s your name?”
“Peter…” 
“Oh ah that’s so cool. That’s my best friends name…” her voice drops, fear creeping up her throat. “And he’s one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. He taught me something important, do you want to learn what is it?” She waits until Peter gives a nervous nod. “Everyone is capable of being special. Just like you. You’re special and that’s why we rescued you.”  
“I want my parents…”
“I know, I know. We’re going to help you find them. We’re going to help you. Do you trust us?”
He nods shakily. 
“Good.”
Gwen holds the little boy close til the ambulance sirens creep in, helping the paramedic transfer him on the stretcher. She uses a bit of webbing to pull the shock blanket up, earning her the tiniest smile from Peter. Totally worth it. 
The assisting cops scatter around the crime scene, and Elektra stands off in the corner to talk to her friend? Oh crap, Castle. Ahh. Seriously Elektra, of all the people you could be friends with why him? Though maybe she shouldn’t be too surprised in her poor judgment, Elektra did date and probably make lots kisses and smoochies and yuck to Murdock. 
Peter’s safe now, surely Elektra will understand why she’s webbing away. She sends Elektra a quick text asking her to meet her on the same roof top.
Gwen climbs up the side of a building before launching her web, swinging off like the badass she is. 
“Wow! That was so cool! I can’t believe it! Sorry I dipped, Castle totally terrifies me, hold thing that we don’t need to get into but that was so cool! The way you used your pitchfork things–” Gwen blathers as soon as Elektra shows up. 
“My sais?”
“Is that what they’re called? Cool! But yeah! Thank you!”
“No problem.”
“Do you think we can visit the kid tomorrow in the hospital? I mean as civilians, totally weird if Daredevil and Spider-Women showed up for visitation–”
“I’m sure we can,” Elektra smiles. 
“I guess I should introduce myself then. Properly,” Gwen pulls her mask off, revealing her million-dollar smile, and extends her hand. “I’m Gwen Stacy.”
“I know. I googled your phone number. Remind me to get you a burner phone. But it’s nice to meet you, Gwen Stacy, I’m Elektra,” taking her hand with an equally sincere smile. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
So yay, they saved the day. Go Team Spider-Woman and Daredevil. A cooler-and-more-stylish Batman and Robin (Gwen being Batman of course). Girl Power! Yippee. 
Can two girls share the cover for Forbes thirty under thirty? Meh, she’ll email Mr. Forbes himself tomorrow morning. Will Elektra let her borrow a fancy dress for their press interview? Maybe something aqua. With sparkles. And biker shorts because ya never know. 
Changing into her old band shirt and pair of shorts, Gwen flops–not lays gracefully, not awkwardly climbs in– flops onto her bed. Ahh her back felt so crunchy she should really stretch before sleep but she’s so exhausted. She hugs one of her Squishmellows and opens up youtube, queues up a video of Watcher, and waits for her eyelids to feel too heavy. 
Brrrring. 
Huh? 
Elektra?
“Hello,” Gwen grumbles.  
“Oh thank God, are you ok? Where are you?” Elektra sounds like she’s out of breath like she’s in the middle of a fight. But no, the fight just ended. They won. 
“I’m home. Why, what’s going on?”
“Someone got the kid. Gwen, I’m so sorry…”
What…?
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Illicit Affairs
A/N: Okay so the ages and timing on this story don’t make much sense but just overlook that, maybe? I don’t know you’ll see but just try to ignore it if you can for the sake of the story. Also I know it’s been forever since I posted but it’s because I’ve been working on this series, so yeah. Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Word count: 2,488 Warnings: I don’t think any.
Your Uncle Frank was one of your number one supporters through it all, and by far one of your closest family members.
You had known him since you were 13, as he and your Aunt Jamia (who was your mother’s sister) had met early in high school and had been dating since. Now that you were 20 and in college, triple majoring at NYU, he was once again your biggest supporter, helping you financially at every opportunity he could. You always felt so guilty for the thousands of dollars he insisted on paying monthly to help you get through college with little to no student debt, but he was insistent.
And of course you knew that money came from his now wildly successful band My Chemical Romance. You had been to a few My Chem shows, but had surprisingly never actually met any of the guys, besides Ray who you accidentally met while dropping off some coffee for Frank at the recording studio. You were actually a pretty big fan of their music, but you never broadcasted that your uncle was Frank Iero. That remained pretty private.
But here you were, driving to one of their shows for the soundcheck from Frank’s New York apartment, which you were staying at for the summer because A. You were taking summer classes and B. He offered to pay you to dog/house sit while he was touring, since Jamia consistently had work that sometimes meant she had to travel.
You pulled up to the large venue, showing security the backstage pass that Frank had given you, before being escorted into the main arena, where empty spaces for chairs lurked open, a few maintenance and sound people running around and fiddling with various things. You looked up to see some of the guys sitting down in a circle having a conversation. Frank noticed you almost immediately, getting up with a big smile and running up to you, engulfing you in a hug, and you hugged him back. “How’s my favorite neice?” He asked and you lightly laugh.
“Great, you?” You asked and he smiled back.
“Great.” It was funny to be shorter than Frank, only be a few inches, but still, making you the shortest in both the family and in most social situations. He walked you over to where everyone else was, introducing you in general as everyone got up to shake your hand. You already knew Ray, who gave you a hug, but you had never met the other three.
First was Mikey, who seemed shy and a little awkward, but was pretty adorable. Then came Bob, who seemed chill, and finally Gerard. You had to admit he was pretty handsome both on and off stage, but you pushed some confidence forward so you wouldn’t chicken out. “I’m Gerard.” He shook your hand with a kind smile.
“Y/N.” You responded, shaking it back. You could see your uncle eyeing the both of you from the corner of your eye, but you weren’t totally sure why. Was your crush on Gerard that obvious. You pulled away a moment, somewhat nervously with the conscious that at least your uncle knew, meaning other people probably did too.
You all sat down in a group as the guys began asking questions about you and what you were doing in school. All of them (besides Frank who already knew) were extremely surprised as you triple majoring, but you couldn’t help and notice how Gerard was fixated on you the entire time. After a bit of explaining stuff about you, everyone split up to go do their own thing. Ray, Mikey, and Frank all went off to begin tuning and testing their stuff while Bob did the same, but Gerard stayed back with you for a few minutes.
“Hey, this could be totally weird and awkward and not cool and you can totally say no,” Gerard began, quietly to you when no one was around, “But would you mind if I got your number? I mean I could ask Frank but your his niece so that might be awkward and-” “No, no, it’s fine.” You lightly smiled, as if to reassure him. You pulled a sticky note and pen out of your backpack, writing it down, “Here.” You smiled at him, handing it over. “But I would advise you don’t tell Frank, because he might, ya know-” “Yeah, yeah, trust me, I know.” He said and the two of you lightly laughed. “Are you gonna be at the show tonight?” He asked and you nodded, “Cool, cool. Have you been to one before.” You nodded again.
“A few times, actually, I’ve just never gotten to meet you guys.” You lightly smiled.
“Cool, cool.” He responded. You could tell how awkward both of you felt, each of you having the urge to keep the conversation going but it just wasn’t there. “So I should probably go and start sound check, ya know. But it was awesome meeting you, Y/N.” Gerard smiled.
“You too.” You smiled back.
“I’ll see you around?” “See you around.” You lightly waved as he jogged the other way.
You ended up excusing yourself and saying bye, with the excuse that you had more school work to do, when in reality you just needed some air as your mind continued to process the idea that the Gerard Way just asked for your number. He was so nervous and cute about it that in a way it made you all the more happy getting to know him briefly, but he was nothing like how he was on stage. The confidence that seemed to erupt in him was all wiped away as he just seemed like a nervous outcasted teenage boy in a band, which maybe to an extent he was.
Gerard, on the other hand, was set on the idea that he had just fucked over any shot he had with you. And from what you had explained, you seemed like the perfect girl. Not only were you absolutely gorgeous to him, but you were kind, funny, and smart. And you seemed to have some tom boy in you, which only made you that much more attractive to him to send him mind into overdrive. He wasn’t sure that the perfect girl ever existed, until you walked in.
And he was shocked that you were single. Sure, you had a lot on your plate and probably not enough time for a relationship, but any boy or man would be insanely lucky to have you. But there he stood, mentally punching himself at how stupid he acted. And ideally he would have gone and ranted to the guys, but the moment Frank heard he was interested in you, he knew he was dead meat. Frank may have only been 5′6 but he could pack a punch if he wanted to.
And besides, you were eight years younger than him. And while that didn’t matter to him, and clearly to you it didn’t either, that would most likely be looked down upon by most other people. “It’s pretty obvious.” Mikey came up to him behind the stage, “You’re just going to have to deal with the wrath of Frank eventually.” The two looked over at the short man who was clearly pissed in some way.
It wasn’t until that night at the concert that your worries fluttered away. You had invited a few friends, who were all jumping, screaming, and dancing as you did the same in the pit. Gerard had taken the crowd by his hand with ease starting with their opener, and flawlessly sang and entertained everyone. You were genuinely having the time of your life, and even when the show ended you were still riding high from the buzz of adrenaline that the show gave.
You ran back stage, giving Frank a hug and he hugged you back. “You guys did awesome!” You sighed out, still in awe with a huge smile on your face. “It was absolutely incredible.”
“Thanks, Y/N/N.” Frank smiled back down at you.
“Y/N/N?” Ray asked, with a confused look.
“Yeah, it’s been her name in the family since she was like two.”
“Okay, Y/N/N.” Ray smiled at you and you smiled back. You couldn’t help but look over Ray’s shoulder, seeing Gerard standing back with Mikey drinking lots of water, for obvious reasons. You briefly excused yourself to go talk to them.
“Hey,” You walked up to Gerard and smiled, he immediately looked back, putting his water down and smiling back at you tiredly. “You did awesome.” You preached, “Like, actually, you did insane.” “Thanks.” He lightly laughed, “Glad you enjoyed.” You nodded. “Hey Mikey.” You looked at the skinny boy who waved back.
“You did pretty great too.” “Thanks.” He smiled, saying goodbye and departing from the two of you shortly after. Gerard pulled out a box of cigarettes, taking one in his mouth, and motioning them towards you, a way of asking. You shook your head.
“I’m alright, thanks.” He nodded, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and lighting the stick. He took a deep breath in, letting the smoke come out through his mouth only a few moments later.
“So you don’t smoke?” He asked next, casually. You shook your head, “Smart.” He lightly smiled. “It’s pretty fucking annoying.” You lightly laughed.
“Thanks for the advice.” You smiled.
Only a few seconds later you were called out by the rest of the guys, sitting outside their tour bus and drinking some beer. You noticed Gerard had none, and opted for just some water, you doing the same instead. For you it was pretty obvious, you were 20 and weren’t of the legal age to drink. But for Gerard it would seem off to most people, but of course Frank had told you all about how only a few months prior he was an alcoholic and had gotten sober, so naturally you didn’t blame him one bit for skipping out on the alcohol.
“Hey Y/N, want some?” One of the guys on tour asked. You shook your head. “Oh c’mon, it’ll be fun!” The guy continued to insist.
“Nah, I’m alright.” You said. It was pretty annoying when guys asked you to drink, because you knew that it was to get you to a point of being drunk only to get laid. Or even worse, the fear that the drink could be laced. Either way, you weren’t taking a chance.
“Are you sure-” “Hey man, back off.” Gerard, who was sitting next to you, spoke, “She said no.” “I’m pretty sure she can speak for herself.” The dude smirked and fired back, thinking he did something.
“And she already did speak. She said no.” He said firmly, more aggressive this time, “You’re on this fucking tour because you’ve been hired by my band. So I would suggest you leave her the fuck alone before you lose your job, buddy.” Gerard snapped. The other guys eyes just went wide, walking away in surrender.
“You didn’t have to do that, ya know?” You looked over at him, and he gave you a confused look, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but it happens all the time.”
“Well it shouldn’t.” He sighed, “But you’re smart enough to know that. No offense, and this is not meant to be sexist, but a lot of girls your age don’t know that.” “Yeah, I know,” You admitted, “I’ve seen it happen one too many times.” Both of you obviously became slightly uncomfortable with the situation at hand, prompting Gerard to begin another conversation.
“So what do you like to do?” He asked, “Outside of school, of course.” “I don’t know,” You sighed, “I love to write, I have since I was younger. Reading goes a long with that, I’ve read comics since I was a kid too. I know that probably sounds stupid but-” “You read comics?” He asked, slightly shocked. You nodded, “What kinds?” “I started out with Marvel, since my dad collected Marvel as a kid. Then I got into DC, Watchmen in specific, I never got into the Justice League because I didn’t really see the relevance of it, but I liked the Avengers a lot.” He nodded and smiled.
“That’s pretty cool, ya know. Not really stupid in my book.” He lightly laughed, “I actually went to school to be a comic book writer.” “Really?” You asked, adjusting yourself in your seat and he nodded. “No way.” “Yeah, I did. But it was a rough time in the comics industry and nothing really worked out.” You nodded, understanding.
“Do you still do anything with comics?” You asked next.
“Yeah, I do.” He said, “In my free time I love to draw, I have this current project I’m working on, I’m not sure what it’s going to be called, but it’s like this weird super hero family type thing, but they’re all adopted, and this guys makes his kids a super hero team? That probably doesn’t make a lot of sense.” You lightly laughed.
“Not totally, but what I get from it, it sounds pretty awesome.” You admitted, “I think that would be pretty cool, and original. Which is something everyone wants when it comes to comics.” He nodded.
“It probably wouldn’t be hard to get it published now with this whole band thing.” You nodded.
“Well, if you ever need a second opinion on it, don’t hesitate to ask. Although I know it can sometimes be hard to show off your work.”
“I’ll definitely take you up on that.” He smiled. You got a vibration from your phone, which you checked. It was one of your friends, but glancing at the time your anxiety rose.
“Shit,” You muttered, “Hey, so I know we were just starting to actually talk and all, and I really don’t want to end that, but I kinda have to get back and-” “Hey, hey, don’t worry.” Gerard lightly smiled, “You’re really busy. It’s totally fine.” “You sure?” You asked again and he nodded.
 “Yeah, of course.” He nodded, “Here, let me at least walk you out to your car.” “No, you don’t have to do that-” “Trust me, it’s alright.” He insisted, getting up and walking besides you under the night sky.
“It was really great meeting you.” You smiled up at Gerard as you two stood outside your car.
“You too, Y/N.” He smiled down. “This may be too soon, and it probably is, but I asked for your number after like five minutes of knowing you so I guess we are moving fast. Anyways, I’m rambling.” He stuttered a little, “But would you want to go out with me sometime.” You smiled.
“Yeah, of course.” You responded, “Just text or call me and we’ll work something out.” “Oh, okay, awesome.” He smiled. “Bye Y/N. Get home safe, okay?” “Bye, Gerard, and I will.” You said and got into your car.
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babymetaldoll · 3 years
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Danger Days - Chapter fourteen: "Love, hate, love"
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Word count: 8,8K
Summary: The band is decided to take care of Joey, and for once, she is ok with that. Gerard is trying to find a way to get closer to her while Matthew... gets drunk again.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, cursing, cheating, angst, a lot of crying.
A/N: I want a friend like Mikey in my life. Do you guys think Joey will forgive Matthew? Would you do it? also, I love how honest Frank is with Joey. Gerard really hates him at this point hehehe.
Not my gif, and all this shit is fiction.
Masterlist
Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen | Chapter sixteen | Chapter seventeen | Chapter eighteen | Chapter nineteen | Chapter twenty | Chapter twenty one | Chapter twenty-two | Chapter twenty-three | Chapter twenty-four |
::: Valencia, March 11th, 2011 :::
Joey's eyes were wide opened as she laid on her bed. She hadn't slept at all. Mikey was snoring next to her. He had stayed over to take care of her after everybody left. But he fell asleep, and the girl stayed up the whole night, not able to move or to do anything but to stare at the heart locket on her bedside table. It felt like bullshit to her now. What seemed to be so romantic was now nothing but a pile of lies.
Memories kept coming to her head. All of the times together with Matthew, their whole happiness. All the days they spent working on the house he had bought for them, and all the nights they sat in their new back yard to look at the stars, drink some wine and sleep in an inflatable mattress they had put in their bedroom. But what she remembered the most was the day they met. The day their whole story together had started, and how now Joey wished to go back in time and change it all. Ignore him, never talking to him, not even being in that studio that day. Anything that might keep her from the pain she was feeling now.
She had reached the studio early that morning. She had a meeting with a band at ten to record a demo. They needed a studio drummer, and Billy, the producer, contacted her. She had learned the songs; there were just three on the setlist. That shouldn't take more than three days in the whole process, including production.
Joey went through her warm-up and stretching before Billy walked in with two cups of coffee.
- "Thank you."
- "You are gonna need it,"- he said and cut her a short smile- "As far as I can tell, these guys are hyper"- the girl smiled and nodded.
- "Noted, hyper kids."
The drummer already had a lot of practice recording with random bands and some pretty known bands too. Yet, she wasn't ready for the tornado of energy that was about to go through the door that day.
The band was pretty funny and easy-going. Their music wasn't really in Joey's favorite playlist, but she was professional enough to give her best no matter what. Their friend, though, that guy was driving her insane. This very tall thin guy with light brown hair kept jumping with every song they played. He was sugar rushed or in coke. There was no way anyone would be that energetic on his own. And he had an opinion for every part of every song. Their friends loved him, it was clear, that's why they brought him along, but Joey was trying to do her work.
- "Hey,"- he said to her at the end of the session. He hadn't talked to her in the whole day- "That was pretty cool what you did back there."
- "Thanks"- she simply answered and looked for her backpack.
- "I mean, you played amazing, but the way you managed not to kill me through the whole day, though it was clear I was driving you insane, that was outstanding"- and the girl chuckled, she hated it 'cos she didn't want to, but that had been funny indeed.
- "It took a lot of will and mental strength, I must confess, you were pretty annoying,"- she answered with a snarky smile.
- "I'm sorry in advance for the next three or four days then"- the girl sighed and nodded.
- "Thanks, I guess."
- "Hey, can I try to make it up to you?"
- "By not to eat anything with sugar or take any coffee before coming tomorrow? Because that would be awesome"- and Matthew laughed. An honest big, and sincere laugher.
- "No, I was going to ask you if you wanted to get a coffee now with me..."
- "How much coffee do you have during the day?"- the drummer asked, raising an eyebrow.
- "A lot"- he simply answered- "So, what do you say? I promise I won't be annoying, or at least just the decent amount of annoying to be tolerable."
Joey didn't know what to reply. It had been ages since anyone had asked her out, and that guy was breathtakingly hot. Was it a prank? Why would he want to go out with her?
- "How are you planning not to be annoying?"- she asked and narrowed her eyes.
- "You can pinch me every time I get annoying,"- Gubler grinned, looking pretty excited to go out with her- "I know you want to pinch me."
Joey smiled and kept her eyes on his. He gave her the most adorable puppy eyes, and not even thinking about it, she accepted.
And that was the first of a thousand coffees they shared in almost a year together. They had even talked about getting married around the same date they had started dating. But now, none of that mattered anymore.
- "Mother fucker"- she whispered and slowly got out of bed. Mikey was still asleep. She wondered around the room, not knowing what to do. She went through all the things the guys had left upon a dresser: chocolate bars, filled chocolate, M&M, fun-size Snickers, all of her favorites candies. Frank's whiskey bottle, even a Pride and Prejudice Bluray.
- "You guys are awesome,"- she whispered and grabbed a bunch of candy. She looked through her things as she ate. It felt nothing was hers anymore. It felt that wasn't her life or her clothing. Not even her mind. She was out of herself. Her phone was nowhere to be seen. Probably Mikey had it hidden, just like she had done for him when he broke up with his wife. Now the tables had turned. And it felt weird. Wrong. Bad.
Joey had a knot in her stomach as she kept eating Snicker after Snicker. Still, she couldn't stop. She didn't want to stop. She found Matthew's shirts among her clothes, and her body shivered at the smell of his perfume still in the fabric. She could almost see his face, hear his voice, feel his hands on her skin. The same hands that had cheated.
Tears started falling right away. Still, she couldn't stop smelling the shirt. She couldn't stop thinking about him, about his face, his kisses, everything. But yet, she was so mad, so sad, so confused. Her stomach started aching, and the girl started retching. She ran to the bathroom and puked the few candies she had eaten. That was all that was left in her stomach.
- "Bug, hey..."- Mikey appeared running and kneeled next to her.
- "I'm ok, I just... I'm still..."- the girl sighed and wiped off the tears from her face, flushing. Mikey reached the mouthwash for her- "Thank you"- Joey clumsy stood up and spat in the sink.
- "Did you get any sleep?"
- "Not really"- the honesty of her answer surprised him. He was ready to deal with a girl in denial of her state. Instead, somehow, she just answered the truth. He decided to take another shot.
- "Are you hungry?"
- "Of course not. I just puked."
- "What do you wanna do today?"
- "Stay in here, in my pajamas, and watch shitty tv. How is your schedule for today? What do you have to do?"
- "Stay here in my pajama watching shitty tv with you,"- she cut him a sweet smile as she crawled into bed again.
- "You don't have to do that, Mikey. You have to work."
- "I know I don't have to, I want to do it for you"- he made a pause, grabbed the phone, and called room service.
- "Thank you,"- she whispered and heard him asking for two breakfasts.
- "Besides,"- Mikey added, after hanging up and getting into bed with her- "It's not like I have to show up and answer questions I've answered a million times before. That's why Gerard's the lead singer. He loves the attention."
Joey smiled and hugged Mikey, resting her head on his chest as he surfed channels.
- "Yeah, he is a little diva sometimes."
- "A little? Sometimes?"- Mikey chuckled- "Oh Bug, you have no idea..."
Gerard was walking on his own after the first interview. He asked for a few minutes to get something, and Worm came along to make sure he made it alive.
- "Dude, help, what can I give Joey?"
- "Is her birthday again or something?"
- "No, she broke up with Gubler, and I need something that might cheer her up."
- "Fuck! How is she?"
- "Locked in her room... what can I give her?"
- "Chocolates."- Worm answered right away.
- "Mikey got her a million of her favorites."
- "Booze."
- "Frank got her favorite whiskey."
- "Shit... movies to kill time?"- the man looked at Gerard and nodded- "So Ray got her movies?"
- "They had like a "break up kit" in their fucking bags or something. They know what to do, what to say to her, how to comfort her. And I ended up looking at her from a distance like... awkward and out of place."- Gerard was opening himself up at his friend.
- "Well, think of something that might help her use her time and mind to refocus her into something other than the breakup. Maybe a book"- Gerard nodded and kept looking at the window glazes. Instinctively he stood outside a stationery shop. He thought about it as he looked inside. To draw was an excellent way to kill time. Would she like that?
- "Why not?"- he said and walked in. After a few minutes, he stepped out with not two but three bags filled with art supplies.
- "Did you leave anything left in the store?"- Frank asked when he saw his friend carrying so many notebooks and pencils, you could think he was starting a store of his own. The two of them, plus Ray, got into the van to go to their following interview.
- "Funny. I just got Joey a few things to help her think of something else."
- "Cool man, good idea"- Ray smiled and took a look inside- "I just checked with Mikey. They were watching a movie."
- "How is she?"- Gerard asked as the van traveled through Valencia.
- "She didn't sleep, she hasn't eaten, Mikey was fighting to get her to eat some cereal... she was crying and puking when he woke up."
Gerard's heart ached in his chest as he heard Ray's words. He needed to find a way to make her feel better. But how? How if he never got to talk to her?
- "Any news from the asshole?"- Gerard asked, and Frank nodded.
- "Mikey has her phone off, so no one knows anything about him."
- "Do you think he is gonna show up?"- the singer asked, and both Ray and Frank looked at each other.
- "I think so,"- Toro said- "He is in love with her after all."
- "After all?"- Iero turned to him and frowned- "The fucker broke her heart! I don't want him near my little Bug in a thousand years."
Gerard wanted to hit Frank after calling her "his little Bug."
- "What the fuck is his problem? She ain't his. She is mine."
- "Frank, we are her friends, and we have to support her, but if she ever decides to get back with him again, even when we both know that's nearly impossible, we have to respect her. Ok?"- Ray was very rational about it, mostly 'cos he had lived it with other friends before- "So if he gets here, we can't do anything."
- "What do you mean "we can't do anything"?"- Frank frowned right away, frustrated- "I'm not gonna let that asshole near her."
- "Me neither, man"- Gerard adds- "And I can't believe you are saying this amount of shit after how she was yesterday."
- "It's called experience, Gerard. So remember, this whole shit ain't about how mad we are with Gubler, but about how much we want our friend to be happy, no matter what!"
Ray used his "dad" voice, and his friends couldn't argue with that. That was Raymond Toro's superpower: Super Dad.
Matthew looked at his mom and sighed. He still had three more days of shooting, and he was about to quit. Gubler barely had the strength to get out of bed that morning. He hadn't eaten. He looked like shit. He didn't want to be in the movie anymore. He gave a fuck about everything. So his mother came along to work with him and sat closely, reading a book, trying to comfort him in any way. Yes, that's how much Matthew loved his mother. And he cared shit if anyone made fun of him.
- "I can't do this, mom,"- he said as he walked to her by the end of a scene, he had some time to wait for things to be ready at the following location- "I mean, what the fuck am I doing here? I have to go to her! I have to tell her that I'm sorry"- he grabbed his phone and dialed- "Still off... Yami, please listen to me. I need to talk to you. This can't be it. I need you to listen to me."
- "Voicemail full"- a computer voice warned and finished the call.
- "Shit! Shit! Shit!"- the young man hit the wall next to him a couple of times as his face turned red in anger and desperation.
- "Matthew, please calm down, you are gonna go, but you need to be calm when you meet her. You have to put yourself together first. What are you going to tell her? How are you going to approach her?"- he sighed and walked around in front of his mother.
- "I just need to talk to her now!"- he whispered, pouting. He had never needed anyone as much as he needed Joey at that moment.
- "She has to make her process too. If you run to her now, you are both going to be still hyperventilated with what happened, you are going to be irrational, you know you will, and she is going to be still so hurt and mad she won't think straight"- Matthew sighed and looked at the ground- "Let the things cool down for a few days."
- "I still need to talk to her. I have to call her."
- "Just make sure you don't sound like a madman when you get to talk to her, ok?"
- "Do I sound like a madman now?"- his mother smiled at held his chin for a second
- "As I had never heard you before... you are in love, baby, it's ok to be a madman... just... try to keep a mind straight when it comes to talking to her, don't scare her away."
Matthew nodded and sighed. His mother's words made sense, but how to calm himself down when he felt he was dying inside? He grabbed his phone and dialed. Still off.
- "Can you come over tonight?"- he wrote and sent the text to Paget, his best friend.
- "Sure, is everything ok?"
- "Tell you tonight."
The band reached Joey's room at lunchtime. They brought pizza and beer, but she didn't want either. They talked to her about their day, the interviews, and Gerard gave her his present. That was the one thing Joey was excited about. She loved drawing and coloring, though she sucked at it.
- "Thank you, Gerard!"- she said and cut him a shy smile- "I wanted to get some of these things for a while and never did"- and the singer smiled proudly. He had finally done one thing right.
- "Hey, if you want, I can teach you a few things so you can start your comic,"- he said and sat next to her.
- "Thanks..."- she nodded but didn't look into the idea. Gerard was probably pushing too hard. But he had gotten so excited with her reaction he thought it was the solution to the whole situation. Nothing was farther from the truth.
- "Come on, Bug, we brought your favorite pizza,"- Frank said and sat next to her- "It has all the bacon in Spain."
- "I'm not hungry,"- she whispered and didn't take her eyes from the art supplies.
- "You've barely eaten,"- Mikey said and held her hand, looking at her so worried, it made Joey feel guilty for having her friend like that. It wasn't fair.
- "Bróðir, I am ok. I ate that cereal you gave me."
- "You threw it up twenty minutes later"- she closed her eyes and sighed- "Do you always throw up when you are upset?"- and she nodded. She didn't want to say a word about it. When Joey was a kid, she had many anxiety problems; she always threw up when she felt stressed. It was the way her body worked to cope with whatever it was that she was feeling.
- "Just a slice, I don't care if you vomit it,"- Frank insisted. She held it and took the tiniest bite possible in a poor attempt to make her friend happy. He just kept looking at her, forcing her to take another bite.
- "Do you have to go to work after lunch?"- she whispered and looked at her fingers playing with the bacon on her pizza.
- "Yeah, Bug. Mikey should probably go shower, but I'm gonna stay with you."
- "I'm not a baby, Ray"- the girl frowned- "I can be alone."
- "I know you can, I just feel like staying here, watch a bunch of movies... maybe sleep a little, I don't wanna go to work,"- Ray simply replied.
- "Guys, I know you are being too cute and adorable right now, and from the bottom of my heart, I am forever grateful for it, but I can stay alone. Nothing is gonna happen."
Mikey moved closer to Joey in the bed and wrapped an arm around her.
- "Sure, you are gonna be ok, but right now, we just wanna be with you... just today, ok? Tomorrow you are on your own,"- she turned and raised an eyebrow at him- "I promise."
- "Fine..."
- "Now eat"- he commanded and moved her pizza closer to her.
- "When are you going to give me my phone back?"- she asked after a while.
- "Tomorrow"- Mikey simply replied.
- "What's the plan for tomorrow, by the way?"- Joey asked and looked at her friends- "Do we have to be at the festival the whole day?"
- "No, but we have to be there early,"- Gerard said and chewed his food- "We have to do some press there, and you should come along."
- "I'm good, thanks."
- "No, really, it was great when we did that radio with you, and you've been great all along this tour, so... it would be great if you were there with us... how many times did I just say "great"?"- Joey smiled at Gerard and looked back at her pizza.
- "Like a million times, dude,"- Frank answered- "Hey, where's the veggie pizza?"
It was very heartwarming and, at the very same time, very overwhelming for Joey to feel that amount of love from her friends. She didn't see it coming. That afternoon, she and Ray watched Pride and Prejudice together, and she even allowed herself to share a few tears during those 90 minutes. Ray pretended he never noticed, and that made her happy.
She picked a bunch of other chick flicks she liked, and her friend watched them all, sleeping a little bit from time to time. Joey wasn't able to close an eye. Every time she took her mind off the movie, she thought of Matthew and started crying again.
By the time the rest of the band arrived again, with more booze, more food, and a whole bag of candies, Ray had watched Clueless, 10 things I hate about you and Ever After. He was pretty surprised to know Joey could recite from memory most of the dialogues in those movies. He never thought she could be so... girly.
- "Hey Bug!"- Mikey practically ran to her- "What are you doing?"
- "Coloring this mandala book Gerard got me"- it felt like she was a little kid and Ray was her nanny- "I don't know why people say this is relaxing; I find it pretty stressful"- Mikey looked at it and smiled.
- "Looks pretty cool to me."
- "Let me see"- Gerard said and walked to her, sitting for the very first time, next to her- "Yeah, that looks stressful"- he whispered, and she smiled- "But there was another coloring book in the bag."
- "I feel like I'm five years old,"- she whispered and looked at the singer in the eyes. He cut her a big smile and grabbed a notebook from his bag.
- "I stopped to buy ten comic books today, so that would make two of us."
- "What did you get?"- that conversation kept going. Gerard couldn't believe it.
- "I saw a few X-Men issues in Spanish, and I thought it would be a nice addition to my collection."
- "Nice..."- Frank moved closer and messed with the girl's hair.
- "I brought you a Dr. Pepper,"- he whispered and kissed her cheek.
- "Thank you, Jersey."
- "I also got you fries"- he smiled and raised an eyebrow- "You can't say no to fries..."- and damn it, Frank was right- "Cheesy fries"- he added with a low sexy voice.
- "I hate you, Frank."
- "It's time for you to face it, Iceland, you love me, you can't live without my pretty face making you laugh"- he teased her and chuckled. She kept her eyes in his and cut him a short smile.
- "Fuck you, Jersey"- she whispered but smiled and snuggled closer to him- "I love you. You are a psycho brother with the ability to make me want to punch you."
- "You are that hot second cousin I would nail,"- Frank answered with a chuckle and a low voice. Joey giggled and hit him simultaneously. Gerard froze, thinking there was no way Iero could be so honest with her about his thoughts, not making her mad.
- "Shut up. Why do you always ruin every single moment we've got together?"
- "'Cos... you laugh when I do, and I love to hear you laugh"- the girl chuckled and blushed.
- "Just give me the damn fries."
Gerard looked at his friend in shock. He had flirted, and she smiled. What the fuck was that? It was so clear everybody was closer to her than him... and she told him she loved him.
- "Damn it! You are not going anywhere tonight until you get fucking closer to this girl."
Around midnight, Ray and Frank stood up. Joey was still laid on her bed, wide awake, watching Lethal Weapon with Mikey.
- "Kids, you should go to bed"- Ray announced and put on his shoes- "We've got a big day tomorrow, and you should all rest, especially you, Bug. The dark rings under your eyes will not be covered with makeup, and we will be on tv tomorrow."
- "I'll sleep, I promise"- she whispered and nodded.
- "Are you going to be ok with these two?"- Frank asked after kissing the top of her head.
- "These two are leaving soon, so I'll be ok"- she made a pause and held Frank's hand- "Thank you, Jersey."
- "There is nothing to thank, Iceland. You are my friend, and I'll protect you no matter what."
- "Yeah... what you did yesterday when you yelled at... at him"- Joey couldn't even really say his name- "Well... thank you-" he smiled and winked.
- "Anytime"
- "I love you, dad,"- the girl said as Ray walked over. She wrapped her arms around him and felt him kiss her forehead.
- "Please, try to sleep."
- "I will ... and thank you for watching chick flicks with me."
- "Anytime you want."
- "Really? You won't get sick of the clichés?"- she smiled and wrinkled her nose.
- "No, maybe next time I'll pick a couple when we are on the bus."
- "Dad, it's a date."
- "Sleep tight."
Joey nodded and watched her friends walking out. Mikey kept his eyes on the tv as he ate a bag of M&Ms. Gerard was sitting at the other side of the bed, drawing in silence. The girl sighed and watched tv for a while, but her mind was somewhere else.
- "You should take a bath,"- Gerard whispered suddenly- "If you are going to try to sleep, maybe a hot shower can help you."
- "I thought I smelled so bad you were gonna force me"- Joey answered, not even looking at him.
- "Joey, I've lived with you for a lot of months so far, and I've been locked with you after playing shows covered in sweat"- Gee made a pause and smiled- "You've never smelled bad"- she rolled her eyes, but a slight smile appeared on her lips.
- "You've never been close enough to smell me."
- "She is right, she gets nasty"- and Mikey got smacked by a pillow after those words.
- "Fine, I'll shower..."- but before moving an inch, the girl looked at her friend and asked- "Can you give me my phone back?"
- "Tomorrow."
- "I want to call my parents"- Mikey took his phone from his pocket and gave it to her.
- "Use mine"- she huffed and dialed.
Gerard watched her walk around the room, speaking half in Spanish, half in English with her mother, and then half in Icelandic, half in English with her dad. It was a funny scene to see; he had never seen it. He had never seen a lot of her habits, and yet he had fallen in love with her. Why? How?
- "Dude, I'm talking to you"- Mikey said and threw him an empty bag of candy.
- "Sorry, what?"
- "Can you stay with her for a while? I have to go to my room and take the biggest dump on earth"- Gerard frowned, disgusted, and nodded.
- "Using the bathroom would have been enough, dude."
- "No, it wouldn't, you need to know the disgusting details of my organism..."- Mikey started gathering his things, and Joey frowned as she watched him.
- "Where are you going?"
- "To take a shit"
- "Please don't use my bathroom. You are gross. It's like there's a corpse coming out of you every time"- Joey simply says, and Gerard burst out laughing.
- "Best description ever!"
- "Here's your phone, bróðir."
- "Thank you, Bug"- he grabbed it, put on his shoes, his backpack, and hugged his friend tight- "I love you."
- "I know. I love you too."
- "I'll leave you with Gerard. Are you gonna be ok?"
- "I'll be fine,"- his older brother answered and never took his eyes from the paper, scared of looking at Joey under the circumstances. He was finally going to be alone with her. What was going to happen?
- "I was talking to her, dumbass"- Gerard flipped the bird to Mikey as Joey stayed hugged to his younger brother. He wished she could hug him like that one day. That night maybe...
- "You are the best brother on earth"- she whispered- "Now please go to your room and sleep."
- "Eat some chocolates, take a bath and fall asleep, ok?"- Joey nodded, and Mikey left the room.
Suddenly she realized it was just her and Gerard. For the first time in weeks. But her mind didn't have room to think about anything else but the pain she was feeling. She missed Matthew so much; watching Lethal Weapon was the best idea at the moment.
Gerard kept drawing in silence, and Joey watched the movie until it was over. She ate a few more Snickers and went through the pages of one of the mandala coloring books Gerard had given her.
- "Are you going to take that bath?"- he asked her. But she didn't answer. She had spaced out, staring at her hands in front of her- "Joey? Are you ok?"
- "Yes,"- she murmured and took a deep breath- "Yeah, I'm gonna shower."
- "Do you need me to run the shower for you?"- the singer asked, standing up, but the girl excused herself, moved out of the bed quickly, grabbed a clean pajama from her bag, and locked herself in the room.
Gee looked around and sighed. He knew she wasn't ok at all, so he cleaned the room a little, threw all of the empty bags of chocolates into the paper bin, called room service to take their dinner dishes away, and made the bed.
- "Hey babe"- he whispered as Lynz picked up the phone- "How are you?"
- "Good baby, you?"
- "So fucking tired"- he might have exaggerated that a little bit- "We had an eternal day today, doing a lot of press for the festival tomorrow."
- "My sweet baby, are you in the hotel?"
- "Yeah, already in bed "In Joey's bed, asshole."
- "And how's everybody?"
- "We are all exhausted. It's been forever since we've been home."
- "I know, honey, I miss you so."
- "I miss you more, baby."
Joey sat under the hot water of the shower, crying her eyes out. She held those tears for so long that day. She needed to get them out of her system when no one could see or hear her. Under the shower was good, with water running down her whole aching body.
She felt so much pain inside it seemed to be endless. She was never going to overcome it. Joey knew it. She actually thought she could die of sorrow. And her friends had been so nice to her. She felt she had to be better, so they were calmer. She didn't want to make them sick worry about her.
- "You to put out a show from the next day and start acting like you are getting over this whole deal"- she whispered to herself and whipped off her tears- "They deserve better than a broken drummer. You have to be professional, you are here to work, and you have to fucking do your best work."
But still, she looked at the ring that was still on her finger, and the tears came back. She didn't want to take it off. She wanted to hold onto the memory of the days she was happy. But it was so hard. She had been broken-hearted before, but not like that. It had never been like this. It felt like the end of her world, and she was sure she was never going to recover from it. She wouldn't be the same woman that she was before. She just didn't know how much of the old Joey was going to survive.
- "Joey, are you ok in there?"- Gerard asked from the other side of the door- "You've been in the shower for a long while."
- "Yeah, I'm coming out in a minute,"- she answered and cleared her throat- "You can go to your room if you want to, I'm ok."
- "I'm not leaving until you are tucked and asleep into that bed, Joey."
Gerard sighed and closed his eyes. He had brought this to her. She deserved him to be nice to her. Nice, he could do nice. He just had to turn his dick off, and everything was going to be ok.
Easier said than done, clearly.
Joey walked out of the shower in her pajamas, hair already dried, and night cream on her face, 'cos she had done nothing for herself in the whole day, and a part of her needed to feel a little human again.
- "You didn't have to stay,"- the girl said as soon as she saw Gerard sitting on her bed, his back resting on the headboard.
- "I didn't want to leave"- he simply answered and tapped the bed beside him- "Come here... "- she sighed and thought a few months ago she would have been shaking as jelly under those circumstances. Now it seemed Joey couldn't even think of Gerard in any way that wasn't a friend.
She crawled into the bed and looked at what he was doing. He had been working on a sketch for a long while now.
- "What are you doing?"
- "Not much, just trying to ease my mind, I think"- he answered and showed Joey his drawings- "I've been working on characters for the stories I wanna write, so I keep making sketches of random thoughts and ideas I've got for them"- Gerard opened another folder and showed Joey some more of his work- "These I've developed for a long while, but I still don't feel they are ready."
- "How do you know they are ready?"- he hesitated for a second before answering.
- "I guess they never really are. You are constantly changing little things about them with time."
- "Like songs?"
- "Yeah"- the girl looked at the drawings in silence for a few minutes. Gerard looked at her as she stared at each sheet with detention. He analyzed her eyes, her lips, and her cheeks. She was still very pale, black rings under her eyes. But yet, for him, she was gorgeous. He was dying to hold her.
- "They are pretty cool,"- she said and handed them back.
- "Hey, did you ever finish the song you were writing the other day?"
- "The other day, you mean five months ago?"- he nodded, thinking it felt it was just a few weeks ago- "Yeah, I did."
- "Can I hear it?"
- "Sure, one day you'll hear it, not today, dude. Today, I don't want anything"- he nodded and watched her sighing.
- "Another movie?"- and she nodded- "Do you wanna pick it?"
- "No... I don't care what's on the screen as long as I don't think"- Gerard grabbed the remote control as Joey kept playing with the ring on her finger- "Are you going to..."
- "I'm not talking about it,"- she answered right away.
- "Sorry..."- he muted and surfed through the pay-per-view options until he picked up "The Goonies." Joey didn't say a word. That was one of Matthew's favorite movies. But she wanted to watch it. She wanted to feel he was close. She was so mad and so in love that she didn't know what to do.
Gerard put all his art supplies in his bag and cuddled next to Joey. He did it just like Frank had done the night before: like it wasn't a big deal at all. He wrapped an arm around her neck and moved closer. She didn't do anything against that. Instead, she rested her head on his chest and sighed. Gerard felt triumphant. She was in his arms, finally. But Joey had cuddled for one reason only: it was the best position to hide the tears that started falling slowly as the movie began. She remembered clearly the first time Matthew "forced her" to watch "The Goonies." It was a Saturday. It was raining outside. They spent the whole day in bed, watching movies, making love, eating chocolate chip hotcakes, and s'mores. It was the perfect day. Now it was just a hurtful memory.
Meanwhile, back in Los Angeles, Gubler could feel the anger coming from Paget's eyes as he came clean and told her the whole story. They were at his house drinking beer and talking. Mostly Matthew was doing all the talking, while his best friend decided which was the best moment to hit him.
- "You are fucked"- Paget simply said as he kept talking. He stopped and frowned. But nothing came from his mouth- "I can't believe you did that! You are disgusting, Matthew!!"
Paget lost it for a second. She never, in all the years she had known her best friend, ever thought he could do such a thing.
- "I know"
- "I just... why did you do it?"
- "I was drunk!"
- "That's not an excuse!! You've been drunk before! And your cock hadn't ended up in your ex-girlfriend's mouth, so be honest with me and tell me what the fuck happened?"
- "I don't know! When I noticed it wasn't Joey, I stopped it all!"
- "You thought your girlfriend was sucking your cock?"
- "Yes!"
- "And why did you make out with those girls at the dancefloor?! Everybody saw you!"
- "I lost it for a second, 'cos I was scared Joey might cheat!"- Matthew murmured and looked at the floor, so ashamed of his own words.
- "And you did it 'cos you were scared she would?!"- Paget yelled and smacked his head- "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
- "I don't know!"- the boy rubbed his hands against his face feeling the anger filling his whole body- "Don't you think I regret it?! I hate myself! I was stupid!"
- "Yes! You were fucking stupid! Do you know what it takes to get someone to love you the way she does?! Do you know how hard it is to find someone as weird as you?!"
- "I know it's hard! I know it's fucking impossible, and I know I fucked it up! But I need you to help me fix this!"
- "You could start by going to see her and beg for forgiveness!"
- "That's what I want to do, but mom said I have to give her a few days to calm down."
- "She is right, and you have to calm down too."
- "She said I sound like a mad man."
- "Madder than usual, yes"- Paget nodded, still serious- "And where is she now?"
- "Spain, she has a huge festival show tomorrow, it's gonna be televised..."
- "So you get to see her live?"- he nodded- "And after that?"
- "Germany, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, she is only staying one day at those places, she is traveling by bus, so she is going to be stuck with the band all the time. And those guys hate me."
- "Right now, I hate you too."
- "Please stop hating me and help me find a way to get to her 'cos I know they are not gonna let me."
- "They have nothing to do with this whole situation! What are you talking about?"
- "Well, they've always been very protective of her, which used to bother me a lot, until I realized they loved her like a little sister, and she is happy with that 'cos she doesn't have many friends."- Matthew was talking very fast, as the words kept coming nonstop- "Eventually, we got closer, especially with Mikey. He is like her older brother on the road, and he is so fucking nice to her for a moment, I thought he was in love with her. But it turns out he loves her as a sister, which made me happy 'cos it meant she wasn't alone in that tour."
- "To the point, Matthew."- Paget sighed, annoyed.
- "Yeah, sorry. What happened was I called her after our fight, and Frank picked up the phone and told me he is going to kill me if he ever sees me again, and threaten me to beat the shit out of me if I ever try to get near her."
- "What at asshole!"
- "I know!"
- "You completely deserved that!"
- "Paget!!"
- "You would do that for me if someone breaks my heart, so deal with it"- Gubler nodded and for a second, then chuckled.
- "A few months ago, Joey told me the same thing..."- he sighed and stayed in silence- "I miss her so much it hurts."
- "I know"
- "I need to get her back..."- his friend didn't say a word, just rubbed his arm gently and cut him a short smile.
Paget couldn't promise him he was going to get her back 'cos she knew how much it hurt being cheated on, and she had never forgiven a guy for that. And by everything Matthew had told her about Joey so far, she knew she wasn't going to do that either. But she couldn't tell him to give up either. She knew he wasn't going to.
Joey sighed. The movie was over, and she was starting to feel tired. She was afraid to sleep though, she knew she would dream with Matthew Gray, and it hurt to even think about it.
- "Ready to get some rest?"- Gerard whispered. She didn't move- "I know you are awake."
- "Are you a psychic?"- she whispered, and he just smiled.
- "I can see your reflex on the screen"- he caressed her hair softly- "Do you need anything?"
- "No... thanks."
- "Do you want me to stay over tonight?"- Gerard simply asked, making sure it sounded like no big deal, though he could hyperventilate if she ever said yes- "I wouldn't mind."
- "I think I could use some time on my own"- Joey answered and moved on the bed, sitting next to him
- "I get it..."
- "Thank you, though. Thank you for taking care of me today and for bringing me so many things."
- "Hey, don't thank me for it. I'm glad I could make you smile even a little bit"- Gerard murmured and tuck some hair behind Joey's ear softly- "I just want you to be happy. You deserve to be so happy."
She didn't move, mostly 'cos she had spaced out thinking about Matthew again. She didn't seem to have room in her head for any other thought but him.
Gerard saw this as a chance to move a little further. He kept his hand in her hair and moved it slowly down to the backside of her neck. The girl chilled and looked into his eyes. That look, it wasn't a friendly one, and she just noticed it.
- "Joey, you deserve so much better than what he did to you, and if it were for me, I would give you everything, my whole life."
- "Thank you, Gerard"- she whispered and smiled- "You are a good friend."
- "I wasn't saying that as a friend."
Way smiled and moved closer to her, his nose touching hers. She didn't move. She didn't know what to do, actually. She had always thought he was incredibly hot, but she never wanted to cheat on Matthew. But now, that didn't matter anymore.
Gerard moved a few centimeters closer, and his lips touched Joey's. Electricity ran down his back as he kissed her slowly, just to make sure she wasn't going to move away. She didn't. And slowly, she kissed him back.
His hands cupped her face carefully as Gerard increased the kiss, slipping his tongue between her lips. They tasted like chocolate, and they felt warm against his. It was blissful. It was like all the months he had to wait to feel that kiss had been completely worthy. That was the best kiss he had ever given, and his heart was rising so much, he thought it was going to escape from his chest.
Joey wasn't thinking. She wasn't at all. She just went along with the kiss 'cos it felt nice. And it also felt like payback. Like if by kissing Gerard, she was getting sweet revenge for what Matthew had done to her.
Gerard increased the kiss a little more, biting her lower lip and moving her closer to him. He wrapped an arm tight around her and kept a hand playing from her cheek to her neck slowly. Joey was enjoying this, Way was a pretty good kisser, and it was honestly a kiss she had thought about a million times. But it felt empty, like the kind of kiss you give to a random guy when you are drunk at a party. And this wasn't a random guy. This was her colleague, her married colleague.
- "Stop"- she whispered and broke the kiss.
- "What is it?"- she landed her hands on Gerard's chest and pushed him away softly.
- "This is wrong."
- "Why?"- Joey frowned as he held her hands and looked confused.
- "Well, apart from the obvious"- she said and pointed at his wedding right- "I'm at the lowest point of my life, and we work together. I can't afford to lose my job right now, so kissing one of my colleagues seems like a pretty shitty idea to me."
- "Not to me."
- "Gerard... that's your cock talking,"- Joey stood up and looked at him.
- "I've longed to kiss you for a long while"- he confessed following her and standing right in front of her- "And I've got the feeling so did you."
- "That's not the point. This it's wrong."
- "But it felt good, and you know it."
Gerard leaned to her, held her face, and pressed his lips against her, this time in a passionate kiss that made Joey feel weak on her knees. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck and felt his hands on her waist, moving her closer. So close that she could feel his erection, rubbing against her body.
- "You should go"- Joey whispered, gasping for air as she moved from his lips.
- "But I wanna stay"- she shook her head immediately.
- "You have to go, Gerard."
- "But, Sugar"- he murmured and rubbed his lips against her. She let him go slowly and looked at him, shaking her head again- "Ok..."- he grabbed his jacket and his shoes and landed a soft kiss on Joey's cheek- "Good night, sugar."
- "Bye, Gerard."
The singer walked out of that room and sighed. That had been the best kiss of his life. But Joey was right; it had been a mistake. However, it was a mistake he wanted to make ever since he first saw her. Still, he had just cheated on his wife. But that was a thought he needed to ignore at the moment. He had kissed the girl he loved. And he was in heaven.
Joey was in hell. She hated herself so much she wanted to die. She brushed her teeth over and over again, tears falling from her eyes. Her head hurt after so many days of crying. She had kissed another guy. And though Matthew had done the same to her, she still felt guilty and dirty. She was so sorry for what she had done; she knew it had been a terrible mistake. She didn't even want to face Gerard after that.
He was so eager for her, he had been holding that kiss for a long time, and he simply confessed it, like it wasn't a big deal. But it was. It meant Matthew had been right all along; Gerard had a thing on her, something that had ended up being a hot kiss. A very hot kiss. And if she hadn't stopped him, it was clear where Gerard wanted to go.
- "He had a boner for Christ Sakes!"- the girl argued, walking back to bed- "A fucking boner!"- she got under the covers, wrapping her arms around her legs, biting her lips so hard she nearly drawn blood.
Kissing someone else while still in love with Matthew didn't feel right. She didn't want to do it again. No matter how hot Gerard was. She missed her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. How was she ever going to get over him? She knew it was impossible. You don't love someone that much and successfully take him from your heart.
It was a good thing that Mikey had her phone, 'cos she felt the urge to call Matthew at the moment. That would have been stupid, and she knew it. But still, it physically hurt to miss him so much. She needed to talk to him. But Mikey had her phone... he didn't have her computer, though.
She looked for it in her backpack and started it on right away.
- "What the fuck are you doing?"- she asked herself out loud as she stared at the screen- "You can't talk to him... you are going to cave in."
Joey brushed her hands against her face and closed the computer. But after a few minutes, she poured herself a glass of whiskey and opened it again. She had decided to check her mail, and maybe Twitter, nothing related to her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.
But her inbox was filled with emails from Matthew. At least twenty. Her stomach tightened as soon as she saw them. She took a sip of whiskey and opened the first one. It was sent the night before, probably after Frank had yelled at him and turned off her phone.
"I'm so sorry Yami, I know I was stupid and drunk, and I'll regret it for the rest of my life. But I need you to know you are the only woman I wanna spend the rest of my life with. I love you so much it hurts to think of a day without even hearing your voice."
Joey was already crying. This wasn't healthy. Why was she doing it? She needed to sleep. She needed to get her mind from Matthew. But the memory of Gerard's kisses was right there hunting her too. She poured herself another whiskey and walked around the room. Maybe she could drink herself to sleep. But, she had a huge gig the next day, and she had to be professional.
- "Fuck! I wanna die..."- she sobbed and opened the next mail.
"I know you don't want to talk to me, and I get it. I just need you to understand how much I love you and that I'm willing to do anything to fix this, anything you want, everything you ask; I'll do it, but please, please don't leave me."
- "I have to stop this..."- she took another sip of her whiskey and whipped off her tears. She walked to the phone and talked to the front desk.
- "Hello, sorry to bother you, but can you please connect me with room 1201? Thank you"- the girl waited in line for what felt like ages until she heard Mikey's half-asleep.
- "Joey, are you ok?"
- "No, I'm not ok. Can you come and sleep with me, please?"
- "I'll be right there"- Joey stayed still, eyes glued on the screen, reading over and over again the last mail she had opened.
Mikey didn't even knock. He still had her key, so he just walked into the room in boxers and shirt, shoeless and with his hair made a huge mess. Mikey didn't say a word either; he just took the computer away from her and closed it, grabbed the glass, drank what was left of her whiskey, and got Joey under the covers of the bed. She was shaking and crying quietly.
- "You are gonna be ok Bug, I swear, please try to get some sleep"- he said and held her tight, spooning her- "I'm right here, I'm going to take care of you, ok?"- she nodded and sighed- "Now close your eyes and sleep, I've got you, ok? I've got you."
Joey sniffed and sobbed a little, feeling how her brother's arms tightened around her.
- "Thank you, Mikey."
- "You did the same for me. I owe you my life at this point. I'm never going to leave you."
Back in Los Angeles, Matthew was drunk, calling and calling Joey without any result. Her phone was off, her voicemail was full. So he continued writing emails. At least he could put his heart out in a way, though he had no idea if she was ever going to read them.
Paget, next to him, tried to stop him. But it was useless. The boy wanted to write and ignored everything else.
- "Matthew, Matthew"- she said and shook her arm- "Buy the fucking plane ticket to see her!"
- "Yes!!"- he kind of shouted and took a paper from his pocket- "This is Yami's tour schedule... the movie ends in two days, I can go take a plane straight from the set... so I have to go to Oslo if I wanna catch her."
- "Nice! Bring souvenirs"- his friend smiled, trying to cheer him up
- "Deal"- the boy grabbed his credit card and booked the first flight he found to Norway- "You know it is our anniversary next 17th, if everything goes right, we could actually celebrate our first year together."
- "Please, Matthew, and I need you to listen to me"- Paget said seriously and looked into her best friend's eyes, making sure he would understand her, though he was wasted- "Please, whatever you do, don't fuck it up! ok?"
- "Yes."
- "'Cos this is going to be the only chance you'll get to talk to her and fix everything. Trust me."
Gubler nodded with widened eyes. He was drunk, tired, and devastated, but still, he got how serious and honest Paget was with him. He knew he wasn't going to get many chances to get Joey back. And maybe that was going to be the only one.
**
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heartofsnark · 3 years
Text
Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter Seven): Flying Towards An Early Grave
Notes: Still posting my little backlog, I will warn in advanced, the next chapter is the heist (finally) AND IT IS A CHONKER, but for now have a little appetizer with some fun times, smut, and foreshadowing!~
Word Count: 10860
Chapter Warnings: heavy foreshadowing, food, blowjobs, groping, protected vaginal sex, car sex
If you haven’t yet, you can read the previous chapter here!~
V’s body is heavy as she gets to her apartment door, ready to curl up into bed and call it a day. She’s exhausted with adrenaline gone. She presses her thumb to the panel. The little intercom doorbell is also the lock, scanning and searching for SID validation. It takes a moment to scan, it seems to be lagging more lately. 
Calling. 
The intercom says it’s calling, why is it calling? She can hear the automated ringing and her lights inside are probably flashing. It only does this if the SID doesn’t match the apartment owner’s, assuming them a guest. V presses again. 
Calling. 
She presses harder. 
Calling. 
She tries her entire hand.
Calling. 
She kicks her door, a heavy sound as her boot collides with it. That doesn’t help with the lock, but it makes her feel a little better. Just what she needs; bloody, sore, and locked out of her apartment for who fucking knows why? Her stomach growls as she pulls up the number for building maintenance. 
“Megabuilding Maintenance, how can I help?” 
“I’m locked out of my apartment,” V signs, her choker translator on. 
“What do you mean?” 
“The lock isn’t recognizing my SID.” 
“Can I get your name and apartment number?” 
V gives them the details and they say they’re sending a maintenance guy. All of the services floor is nearly shut down at the late hour, her stomach growling. No doubt the maintenance guy will take his sweet fucking time, so much for getting some decent sleep. She gets a burrito, a Nicola, and a little thing of ketchup from the machines. Sitting on the ground near her door, dumping ketchup on her burrito as she eats it. 
By the time the guy arrives she’s finished eating, drinking, and is a little unsure what’s dried blood versus dried ketchup on her shirt. She hops to her feet when she sees the guy walking up, a massive case of resting bitch face. V doubts he wanted to be dragged out at three am to help unlock a door, but it’s not her fault the tech fucked up. 
“You V?” he asks, voice gruff and annoyed. 
“Yep.” 
“Hard day?”  His eyebrow raises, gaze focused on her blood stained flesh and chrome. 
“Work.” 
“Ah… I see,” he nods, “so, what's the issue with your door?” 
Night City is one of the few places where one can just admit to being a mercenary for a living, even if it did earn her an odd look. V presses her hand to the lock button again and it once again initiates a call. 
“Doesn’t recognize my SID.” 
“Hmm, you are V, right?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“Who the fuck else would I be? The building has a picture of me on file for fucks sake.” 
“Hey, hey, nowadays with enough eddies anybody can look like anybody.” 
“If I had an identity worth stealing, you really think I’d be living here?” 
“Fair enough, let’s check something,” he pulls out a holo tablet, jacking it into the bottom of the intercom lock, “this will show what the lock is reading it as, try again.” 
V keeps an eye on his tablet as she presses her hand back to the lock and the projected information starts to show. And for a moment she sees herself; her face, her name, her information, and all the shit Vik had to set up for her to have SID. Then in a blink of an eye it glitches out and the information shifts. She watches her nearly mugshot like photo shift into that of a man, with short dark hair and dark eyes. V [REDACTED] becomes Robert John Linder. Birthdate shifting from November 12th, 2056 to November 16, 1988.  Birthplace shifting from Seven Devils, North Carolina to College Station, Texas.  
Who the hell is this old man? 
“Looks like it’s reading your SID chip as someone else's, strange, any chance you’ve been spiked by a ‘runner?” 
“No, even if I was, not sure why they’d want to make my SID register to some senior citizen.” 
“Weird, can’t think of how else this would happen? Seems like it starts to read your chip and then changes to this guy’s. Do you know him?” 
“Don’t hang around old folks homes too much, actually. Just some random dude to me.” 
“Hmmm.” 
“I can promise you, I’m not a ninety year old cowboy man.” 
“Somehow I noticed that, actually… looks like the guy is dead.” 
“What?” 
“Mmhmm, scroll down a bit and there’s the date his death certificate was issued,” the guy shows her, “you’ll probably need to have your SID looked at, see what’s wrong with it. For now, I can unlock it for you and have them add whoever this guy is to registered owners, so, you won’t be locked out until you fix it.” 
“Fine, I guess.” 
“But that does mean if this guy’s ghost decides to pop in for a visit, lock won’t stop him,” the man jokes, offering the first smile since he’s been here. 
“Somehow I’ll handle it, thanks for the help, and if it’s not too much trouble can you forward me the details of that SID info?” 
“Sure, no problem,” the maintenance man’s eyes glow and she can feel the very soft warmth and whirr of her neuroplant as it accepts the file. 
She gives one final thanks as he unlocks her apartment and she’s finally able to step foot inside. Thankfully her door locks behind her and she makes a beeline for her shower, scrubbing blood and sweat from her skin; finding bruises, cuts, and flesh wounds she hadn’t noticed in the midst of fighting. 
It takes her a little longer than expected to wind down for the night, the merc putting in her optic contacts and playing with the bot. Looking through its eyes, she has it twist and climb all throughout her apartment, making herself dizzy until she falls out of  bed and bangs her head against the floor. Finally, putting the cute spider looking tech away when she feels the knot starting to form on her head. Then, setting her alarm and sleeping for the night. 
V is still tired when her alarm vibrates beneath her pillow, waking her up as the sunlight streams in from her large window, warming her skin. She checks her phone, double checks the time and that Dex hasn’t sent the car for her yet. The young merc rushes through her morning routine; showering, brushing her teeth, dressing, and taking her medication with some Chromanticore in hopes of getting some energy back. 
She’s out the door and has her  mask on in a matter of minutes, phone buzzing with the message that Dex’s car is waiting for her. As she comes down the steps of her building she sees the same limousine and bodyguard waiting outside of it. But this time when he opens the door for her, there is no Dex, nobody. Chills creep their way up her spine, but she gets in nonetheless, sinking into the leather backseat as Dex’s guard starts to drive them away. 
The guard is quiet, doesn’t explain where they’re going or why, V has a feeling he wouldn’t tell even if she asked. So, she doesn’t. Only the radio drones on, a mixture of news and occasional pop music from bands and singers she doesn’t know or care to know; an anouncer coming over the radio to speak somberly. 
“Today marks the fifty-fourth anniversary of the attack on Arasaka Tower. Fifty-four years ago a group of terrorists stormed Arasaka Tower and detonated a bomb, which forever changed the history of our dear city. Devastating the lives of millions; thousands dying in the initial attack and more perishing in the aftermath as well. Today we ask for a moment of silence to remember those who lost their lives in this senseless act of violence so many years ago….:” 
A beat of silence, barely a moment, then the high energy voice returns. 
“Now, after this short music break, we return with the heartwarming story of Stumpy, the three legged puppy who’s gone viral after the use of  veterinary cyberware has given the pup a new lease on life!~” 
V rolls her eyes, sounds about right, barely a moment for something so somber. No real grief or empathy, time to move on to a cute puppy because that keeps people happy and listening.  She watches the city around her change, spotting the Valentino graffiti starting to cover the buildings and that they’re entering Heywood.  She sends a heads up text to Jackie, letting him know they’re not far from his house. 
A short moment after,  the driver is parking outside Jackie’s garage and she watches the older merc walking out. The guard opens the limousine back door and Jackie relaxes when he sees V, climbing into the seat next to her. 
“Hey, V, you figure out what’s going on?” 
“Was sort of hoping you had…” 
“Asked T-Bug, said it’s a surprise.” 
“Not sure I like Bug’s idea of surprises.” 
“Hey, hombre,” Jackie calls out to the guard as he starts to drive them away, “mind telling us where we’re headed?” 
They’re met with silence, because of they are. V nervously wrings her hands as she watches for signs of where they’re going based on the passing scenery. 
“Has to be something to do with prepping for the job, just wish I knew what.” 
“Speaking of which, you got the bot on you?” 
“Yeah, brought it just in case and if Bug’s there she’ll want to take a look. Wonder if there’s any chance of keeping the Flathead after this?” 
She knows Dex said it’s a single use toy, but...who knows, maybe she could somehow keep it afterwards. 
“Why’s that?” 
“Its cute.” 
“You think a military grade combat bot is cute?” 
“It's a little spider.” 
“You find the weirdest shit cute, I swear.” 
“It is cute!” 
“It’s-” Jackie looks out the window, “shit are we in Corpo Plaza?” 
“Maybe we’re just passing through?” 
As if only to prove her wrong, the limousine parks outside a store on Senate Avenue, the bright sign says Jinguji. Even looking through the window, it looks entirely like a place that her and Jackie do not belong. Brightly lit, immaculately clean with fancy designer clothes on display. 
“We’re here,” the guard tells them and the doors open with the press of a button. 
V and Jackie share a look before getting out of the limousine, standing before the Jinguji store like deers stuck in headlights. 
“Dex can’t be serious, Jinguji?” Jackie says, scratching at the shaved underneath of his hair. 
“Looks…. Fancy.” 
“Corp store, designer; a sock in there will cost you a few thousand eddies.” 
“I know he says we need to play corpo, but… I don’t know, it feels weird.”
“I’m sure Dex knows what he’s doing. But, uh,  you gotta take off the mask, chica.” 
“What, why?” 
“‘Cause its fucking Jinguji, they’re not gonna let you through the door looking like that.” 
“You’re one to talk, you got a ketchup stain on your shirt.” 
“Firstly, that’s blood. Secondly, you’re a wearing a jacket you stole off a dead guy last week.” 
“Not like he needs it!” 
“Jackie, V!” A voice yells out, drawing the merc’s attention into the doorway of the store, T-Bug in realspace, wearing a black netrunning suit, “would you gonks stop bickering and get in here?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the mercs speak and sign in unison, falling the netrunner into the corp store.
There’s a large lit up advertisement at the back of the store. Gold decor dripping down from the ceiling, plush white couches, and an ice bucket with champagne. To her surprise, there’s no other shoppers within the store. A man in a tailored designer suit sits at the desk, greeting the two mercs as they walk in. 
“Welcome to Jinguji, an oasis of elegance!~” 
V gives an awkward nod and wave. She’s not sure what else to do. She doesn’t belong here; she knows that much. A dirty black leather jacket under the bright lights and old raggedy boots on shiny polished floors.  The merc wants nothing more than to run out of the store, some of the clothes she sees displayed are nice, if she’s being honest. A few bit tacky for her taste, but others are cute or sexy with dramatic flair, but nothing she would ever really have a reason to wear. 
“Mind telling us why the fuck we’re here, Bug?” Jackie asks and the netrunner chuckles. 
“To get into Konpeki, you two will have to look the part. Rather than blindly guessing what will fit, Dex is flitting the bill and getting you both some corpo threads,” T-Bug explains, taking a seat on on of the couches. 
“Where is everyone?” 
“Store is rented out for the next couple hours, discretion. V, did you bring the bot?” 
“Got it in my bag.” 
“Lemme see, got to make sure it’s in working shape.” V puts the bot down on the table, T-Bug opening the case and looking over the bot, running diagnostics that the merc can’t begin to understand,
“Right this way, you two, I’m sure we’ll find something perfect for both of you,” the man who greeted them, grabs their attention again, “but it would be easier,  if I have a full idea of your features, miss.” 
“Told you,” Jackie taunts and V elbows him in the side, slowly taking off her mask and she feels bare. And she knows people have seen her face before, but this is work and it just feels… wrong. 
“Wonderful, so we’ll begin with the gentlemen, I think you’ll find we have a wonderful array of fine suits in our men’s department.” 
The man, who’s fancy name tag says Zane, shows them a vast collection of suits. They range from slick classic black ones, deep navy blues, florals, brights, embroidered, and every color she can imagine. Its hard to imagine the big merc in any of them. She’s always seen him in muscle shirts or his favorite red and black jacket. His eyes seem to land on a red suit with gold detailing. 
“Well-” 
“Point is to blend in, not stand out, Jack,” T-Bug calls out, scolding him without having to even look at him or his choice in suit. 
“Just black then.” 
“Wise choice, sir, our tailors will get your measurements and get the perfect fit for you.” 
Another employee guides Jackie to a fitting room and V feels the sudden urge to sink into the ground, Zane’s attention now solely on her.  She scratches at her cheek and flips on her choker translator. 
“Now, what about you? We have plenty of formal options in women’s fashion as well. A more androgynous business suit or perhaps a dress?” 
She’s shown mannequins dressed in tight body con dresses with various necklines, materials, colors, and a few well fitted pants suits. Her eyes are drawn to the dresses, if she’s being honest. She has a rather small collection of skirts and dresses, for off days, but she never has a chance to wear anything more formal than a sundress or mini skirt over leggings. These dresses are dramatic, gorgeous; some with mesh inlays or cut outs. 
But, like Bug said;  they’re there to blend in, not stand out. This isn’t an outfit for fun but for work and if something goes wrong, the last thing she needs is this going to shit and having to battle in a tight constricting dress or too high of heels. 
“I think a pants suit in black would be best; keep it simple.” 
“Understood.” 
V taken to a fitting room, given the chance to put on the ready to buy pantsuits in privacy. A stark white button up blouse, black blazer, and black slacks. And she knows immediately it will need to be tailored to suit her; the pants longer than her legs and the shirt loose around her chest. The tailor comes in after a moment and begins measuring, marking where things need to be taken in and raised. V left trying not to get embarrassed each time the measuring tape is wrapped around a part of her.
“Is there a way to make the blazer sleeves easier to roll up?” She signs once her arms are done being measured. The material is stiffer and harder to get tight around her elbows when trying; she wants her Mantis Blades easily used.
“Hmm, lets see, maybe it’d be best to use it more like an accessory rather than wearing it properly?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Well, you could just wear it over your shoulders like a cape,” the woman drapes it that way across V’s shoulders. 
“Not my thing.” 
“Then you can carry it, like this,” the woman shows  holding the jacket back over her shoulder with her fingers hooked in it’s collar. It looks alright, casual enough, though having a jacket and not wearing it still reads as strange to the merc.
“I’ll consider that.” 
“It can also help keep you cool. Now, lets talk about makeup, hair, and shoes.” 
V listens and nods as the woman gives recommendations; getting V a pair of low heeled black synthetic leather shoes. Then going into advice on hair; recommending french twist, a bun, or a low ponytail depending on how formal V wants to go. The woman recommends simple classic makeup styles and a few other tips for the merc to meet her full corpo potential. Finally, with measurements, adjustments, and everything marked; V is allowed to change back into her street clothes. She leaves the room, seeing Jackie already in his regular clothes again and sitting next to T-Bug. 
“We have all the measurements down and will begin altering the clothes immediately.” 
“Good,” T-Bug confirms with Zane, “remember we need them finished and delivered to The Afterlife by five.” 
“I assure you, our tailors are already on it.” 
“V,” T-Bug calls out when she sees the short merc, “got something for you.” 
V sits down on the couch, watching as T-Bug sets out a pair of white hearing aids. They’re designed like her normal ones, just more boring. 
“Hearing aids? I already have those.” 
“These are special, optic camo. No corpo worth their salt has anything less than top of the line phonic implants, with press of a button or a thought, these will go invisible.. They’ll work just like your regular ones, but look like you’re wearing nothing. Try them out.” 
She switches her blue hearing aids with the new ones, they fit well and she pushes the thought of turning the camo on.  V catches her reflection in a mirror in the store, she can feel them, but see nothing. 
“Perfect, no one will be any the wiser. This also means no signing or translator.” 
“Oh, I see.” 
“I know its not ideal, but it’s just the reality of it. Corpo types like this; lose your hearing, new implants. Vocal chords fried, get a new set in gold. Get paralyzed, new legs or entire nervous system. Go blind, new optics. They see you signing or using hearing aids, you’ll stand out like a sore thumb.” 
“I get it.” 
“No sweat,  I’ll do the talking, V,” Jackie comforts her and then turns his attention to Bug, “So, what now?” 
“We’ll go over the full plan this evening at The Afterlife, you two need to be there by five. We’ll talk with Dex and you’ll be in Konpeki by eight tonight, relic in hand before midnight strikes.” 
“So we get to kick back and relax until five?” 
“As long as you’re there by five and ready to go, I couldn’t care less what you do, Jack.” 
“Said this place was rented out, right?” V asks, noticing a dramatic purple dress that reminds her of a certain tarot card reader’s favorite color.
“Yeah, why?” 
“How much longer is this place reserved?” 
“Another hour, maybe two and again, I ask why?” 
“Ow, hell that for, chica?” Jackie looks up when V kicks him in the shin. 
“Call Misty, dumbass. Buy her something nice, make a date out of it before we go on the job.”  V tells him, remembering Misty’s concerns from the other night. It might ease her mind a bit to have a nice afternoon with Jackie, dress shopping and a fancy lunch in City Center. Just a chance to enjoy themselves. 
“Dex is nice V, but sincerely doubt he wants to pay for Misty a new dress.” 
“Oh no, if only one of us had scammed ten grand off of Militech, oh wait,” V says, pulling the Militech credchip from her bag and sees the twinkle in Jackie’s eyes. 
“You serious, V?” 
“Should get her a hell of a nice dress, maybe you a suit, and a nice fancy lunch; play corpo for an afternoon.” 
“Shit, V,” he takes the credchip from her fingers, “what’d I do without you?” 
“You two are going to make me puke,” T-Bug says, rolling her eyes while Jackie is already calling up Misty. 
“Just wait until Misty gets here and the constant pet names start,  you’ll really lose your lunch.” 
“Ugh, more reason to get out of here, I’ll be taking the Flathead with me to keep in working shape.” 
“Can I ask you something before you go?”
“Got more code you need me to check?” 
“Not quite, had an issue with my SID chip last night, was wondering if there was a chance I was hacked?” 
“You get spiked, jaina?” Jackie asks when he finishes chatting with Misty. 
“Don’t know, couldn’t unlock my door last night, reader thought I was some old dude.” 
“Hmm, SID hacks are tricky, we’re going to be using one for your covers in Konpeki. But they usually only alter your ID a bit and die after so many hours. Thing is, that wouldn’t really benefit anyone.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, I don’t think anyone would get much out of pretending I’m some ninety year old dead fuck.” 
“I can jack in, see if I find anything in your soft.” 
“Sure, if you don’t mind.” 
V shifts her back to T-Bug, sweeping her hair off the nape of her neck and showing her neuroports. The netrunner pushes some loose strands out of the way and slots her personal jack into V’s biomon. A few moments pass and V can feel her cheeks flushing a bit, a weird feeling to having T-Bug directly touch her and jack in to her tech. This is the first time they’ve met in person, may even be the first time Bug has seen her face. 
“Everything looks clear to me, SID is registering as yours, no signs of a hack,” Bug explains, jacking out. 
“Weird, maintenance guy showed last night it was showing as some dead guy.” 
“Strange, must be some sort of glitch.” 
“Or you’re being haunted.” 
“Haha, very funny, Jackie.” 
“Hello… “ 
A soft voice calls out and V lights up seeing Misty poking her head into the fancy luxury store, looking every bit as nervous as V had been. Jackie is up and rushing towards Misty in a heart beat, pulling her into a hug and twirling her around, kissing her head. 
“You’re here, mi carina.” 
“Babe,” Misty says, giggiling as she’s put back down on her feet, then steps up on her tip toes to kiss Jackie’s lips. 
“Gonna puke,” T-Bug comments low under her breath and V tries not to laugh. 
“V, Bug,” Misty smiles at the two, “glad I got here before you two left out.” 
“What’s up?” 
Jackie walks Misty over closer to them, large hand on her hip as she rummage through her purse. After a moment, she pulls out three beaded bracelets. A mixture of beads in black, gold, and blue mottled with gold. T-Bug is already raising her eyebrow and V’s not sure how well Misty’s spiritualism will go over with the runner. 
“These are protection bracelets. Lapis lazuli, black tourmaline, and gold sheen obsidian. They’re all meant to help with creating a protective spiritual barrier, it should keep you all safe from negative energies and frequencies.” 
“Ay, you still in knots over this, mi alma?” 
“It would just make me feel better knowing you have a little more protection, babe.” 
Misty slides the biggest of the bracelets onto Jackie’s wrist and he gives her a soft smile, kissing her temple before starts to give the others to V and Bug. The young merc slides it on with a smile and T-Bug takes it in hand, with a less enthusiasm. 
“Thanks, Misty, I appreciate it,” V tells her and elbows T-Bug in the side, earning her a glare, but the netrunner plays nice. 
“Thanks…” 
“I know it’s not much, but a little protection is better than none and should keep energies bright.” 
“Right….” 
“Well,” V cuts in before Bug can say anything else, “we’ll be getting out of your hair, have fun you two!~” 
“Thanks again, V, see you two at The Afterlife.” 
Jackie waves them off, Bug packing up and V putting her usual hearing aids in their case, away in her pocket. The runner and young merc leave the store, Dex’s guard already left a while ago, so V will have to either call her car or use the public transit. Come to think of it, she’s not sure how she’s going to kill time until its game time. 
“V,” Bug stops her outside Jinguji before they go their separate ways for now, “gotta ask, you really believe in that spiritual crap?” 
“No, but she does and it makes her happy, so, why not?”
“I guess, if she really thinks a bracelet is going to save us from Arasaka.” 
“Won’t kill you to accessorize a little, Bug.” 
“Whatever you say.” 
They say their goodbyes and V is left thinking again about what she wants to do to pass the time. She could do a few short gigs, but her mind is preoccupied with the heist. Ultimately, V finds herself taking the NCART to El Coyote Cojo. Mostly just because she’s bored and maybe something or someone there will occupy her time.  The bar isn’t too active at the early hour and she doesn’t see Mama Welles around. 
“V!” Pepe greets her when she walks through. 
“Hey, what’s up?” 
“Same old, same old. Jaquito is still out, Senora Welles is out shopping, but Jake is taking out the trash in the back if you want to say hi.” 
“I think I might go and do just that.” 
Playing grab ass with one of her go to lays seems like a solid way to waste her time. V walks through the bar and out one of the backdoors that open to the alley with the dumpster. Sure enough, Jake is there tossing away a trash bag. He’s around 6’5 about as tall as Jackie, muscular, with a head of ginger hair shaved down on the shades and a thick beard. 
She throws her arms around his waist, feeling the muscle underneath his shirt. He teases his fingers over her forearms, the chrome of his Gorilla Fingers cyberware sending a soft chill through her skin. 
“Hey, V, new chrome?” He runs over the chrome patterns in her arms. 
She hums against his back in response, not wanting to move. But, he twists in her arms. He cups her face in chromed fingers, for a moment, his browns furrow in confusion. 
“No hearing aids?” 
She pulls away, enough space for her to sign. 
“Camouflage ones, it and the blades are necessary for the gig.” 
“Oh yeah, Jackie’s been talking everyone to death about this heist you two got planned. He better be damn glad no one here’s got loose lips.” His hands drop from her face and loosely wrap around her waist, fingers starting to graze over her ass. 
“Can’t blame him for being excited.” 
“Hmmm and you?” 
“Nervous.” 
“Figured as much,” he squeezes her ass, “you looking for a distraction?” 
“If I wasn’t I wouldn’t be letting you grope my ass in broad daylight, now would I?” 
A low dry chuckle echoes in his chest and he dives in for a kiss. It’s quick and rough, his beard scratching over her skin before he pulls away. She can’t help but giggle as he pulls her back into the bar, hand still shamelessly on her ass. 
“Pepe! I’m going on lunch break!” 
“Yeah yeah, go on.” 
“C’mon,” Jake guides her out of the bar, “lemme at least buy you lunch first.” 
“You actually trying to be nice today?” 
“Something like that.” 
V settles into his passenger side seat as Jake climbs behind the wheel. They pull away from El Coyote Cojo, driving around Heywood and finding a drive in to go through, Burgers, fries, and pop bought; Jake finds a relatively empty place to park meanwhile V has already begun taking the pickles off her burgers. 
“So, you wanna actually talk about it?” Jake asks, taking a bite of his burger. 
“Not much to talk about,” she signs with salt covered fingers and a mouthful of fries, “biggest job of our career. Nerves are natural.” 
Not to mention the shady client, the fact they’re robbing Arasaka, the fact they’re robbing Yorinobu specifically, the fact they have to play corpo, that V will have to force herself not to sign, and that every fiber of her being is screaming that something  is going to go wrong. Then she has the weirdness of her SID chip fucking up on her mind as well. 
“Yeah, but you overthink, so I know that little brain of yours is spinning in a billion directions.” 
V shrugs, “No more than usual, so,  what’s been going on with you?” 
“Not much, been thinking of quitting the bar.” 
“Really?” 
“Yeah, get to work the day shift so I can pick the twins up from school and spend some time with them. But, day shift in a bar basically means staring at a wall and waiting for Senora Welles to cut me a paycheck.” 
“You don’t like getting paid to sit around and look pretty?” 
“Not gonna lie, it’d be hard to find a boss as forgiving as Senora Welles.” 
“Not every boss would let you take an hour or longer lunch just to play grab ass with me?” 
“Eh, pretty sure if she knew what I was doing with her precious adopted daughter, she’d already have me fired.” 
“Oh please, she’s known you longer than me.” 
“Yeah, but she likes you more, you’re basically her kid and I’m her employee,” he pauses watching V roll her eyes, “you know, she’s been worrying a lot about you and Jackie, lately. She knows things are getting riskier with the merc work and-” 
V quiets him with a kiss, not wanting to hear another word of this. She comes to him for a distraction. The kiss is messy and he tastes like greasy fast food, but she’s sure she’s not any better, pushing her tongue into his mouth. She cups his jaw with one hand, scratching over his beard and as he deepens the kiss, she drops her other hand into his lap. He’s already half hard in his jeans, pressing into her touch as she gropes him through the denim. Jake curses against her lips, breaking their kiss. 
“You talk too much, honey,” she chastises him, a soft smile on her lips as she undoes his belt buckle, he lifts his hips, allowing  space to pull his pants and boxer down just enough to get his cock out. 
She pulls her legs up into her seat, on her knees so she can fully lean over the center console into his lap. V pushes hair back behind her ear and takes his dick into her mouth; not bothering to tease, swallowing around him. The taste of him on her tongue causes a heat in her center to stir, getting slick between her thighs as she bobs her head up and down. He groans as she strokes and sucks him, teasing her tongue ring along the head of his cock. The bitterness of his precum and the salt of his skin making her dizzy with need. 
His chrome fingers slide across the expanse of her back, reaching out to grab her ass. He gropes and fondles her through her pants, the rough feeling of her jeans and panties being pressed against her sensitive wet folds. Jake curses as V alternates between sucking, licking, and taking him as deep into her throat as she can. 
He tugs on her hair, bleached strands wrapped around chrome, pulling her mouth off him. Drool covering his cock and her lips. She pouts at him for stopping her, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy.  He gives her a swat on the ass, barely hard enough to sting. 
“Want inside of you.” 
That’s all the explanation he gives and she pulls away, thankful that the windows of his car have steamed from body heat, she begins to quickly strip off her clothes. Its clumsy as she tries to strip down in a car seat, throwing her jacket off into the back, kicking off her boots, before yanking her pants and panties down in one fluid movement. She curses herself for not wearing a skirt or something with easier access. A part of her mind recognizes how stupid she must look, still in her shirt, bra, and her socks staying on after tugging off her pants. But lust has killed her ability to think, just wanting him inside of her. Jake has rolled a condom on, but otherwise has simply watched the flustered merc strip down. 
V’s easily able to jump into his lap, straddling him and having her back to the steering wheel. She steadies herself with one hand on his shoulder, the other lining his cock up with her entrance, sinking herself down onto his dick. She’s slick enough that she takes him all in one movement, both cursing out at the feeling. The stretch of his cock inside of her and the tightness of her cunt around him. Jake digs his nails into her hips and bounces her on his cock, fucking up into her. He takes complete control, setting a brutal pace that leaves V reeling with every thrust. All she can do is wrap her arms around his neck and moan against his sweaty skin, accepting each harsh movement of him inside of her. 
The tension inside of her grows tighter with every thrust, every smack of skin against skin like a strike of a match trying to grow a larger flame. She can’t think, can’t focus, every thought consumed with pleasure and a desire to be pushed over the edge. Bruises form on her hips where he hold her, where he uses her for pleasure. The chair of his cheap car creaks with each bounce and a few thrusts slams her lower back into the steering wheel, but she doesn’t care, couldn’t if she tried. She whines and whimpers against his skin, feeling her end nearing. 
And then the tension snaps, orgasm hitting her fast and hard, she digs her nails into his skin, squirming and writhing as she moans out her pleasure. Mind a haze as she’s overwhelmed with her pleasure. He thrusts a few more times and she nearly chokes at the continued stimulation, the feeling of him fucking into her already sensitive cunt. Then he curses, bringing her hips down fully to meet his own one last time before he cums, spilling his seed inside the condom. 
V rolls off of him and back into the passenger seat, hating the empty feeling  Her skin is sweaty and flushed, as much she hates it, she needs to get her clothes back on. Fumbling to get her pants and panties out of the passenger side floorboard. Pulling them on and shoving her feet in her boots. V waits as Jake ties off the condom and adjusts his jeans, opening the car door and tossing the condom away into a nearby dumpster. 
The Night City air feels cool compared to the heat of the car after fucking, she watches him light up a cigarette outside of the car and grimaces. He climbs back into the driver's seat, keeping the window rolled down and she makes a gagging sound as the smoke hits her nose. 
“You coming back to the bar with me?” He asks, blowing smoke out of the window. 
“No,” she signs, thankful the choker translator can survive sweat, “I’ll catch the train back to Watson.” 
“Let strangers see you sweaty and fuck-dazed?” 
“Well, it’s a good look for me.” 
“Can’t really deny that, now can I.” 
She rolls her eyes and grabs her jacket getting out of the car, walking away on still slightly wobbly legs. V takes the train back to Watson, fiddling with her holophone the entire way. The merc gets off at the stop closest to her megabuilding and makes her way to her apartment; lock recognizing her on the first try. 
V checks the time and decides to get ready to go to The Afterlife. Those nerves she had managed to fuck away for a moment creep up on her all over again. She shakes her head not wanting to focus on her anxieties, she strips down and grabs a shower, cleaning off the sweat from her liaison. 
The merc pulls her hair back in a small low-set ponytail and does her makeup to the recommendations of the stylist. She gets dressed and uses the new camouflaged hearing aids, she takes her mask with her too. Though she knows she can’t wear it into Konpeki, she’ll still be walking into The Afterlife. That thought alone twists her guts into nervous knots. 
The Afterlife is the go to bar for the top of their game, Major Leagues mercs and fixers. It’s where the biggest deals are made, the easiest place to catch a drink and a job, but only mercs or fixers of a certain standard are allowed through its doors. Jackie brags about the place like it’s heaven for mercenaries. If they’re going to become regular fixtures of the bar after this, then she’d prefer to maintain her usual level of anonymity for fixers moving forward. She’ll drop the mask when they’re finally in corpo threads. 
V slides on Misty’s bracelet as well, fiddling with the beads meant to provide some form of protection. Her mind goes back to Misty’s tarot card reading, while she doesn’t put much weight on it, her friend’s fortune telling often sticks with her. The Wheel of Fortune is sticking out to her; she could care less if the cards thinks she’s stupid or if she’s about to fall in love, the latter of which so ridiculous she can’t help but dismiss it. But the idea of conflict sticks out, fear of the heist going wrong has been heavy on her mind. Something always goes slightly wrong, no job is perfect. But this has the highest stakes she’s ever encountered. 
V has new cyberware, the best possible tech and upgrades from Vik. She has Jackie, her best choom and partner in crime who’s never let her down. There’s T-Bug, her friend and brilliant netrunner who could bring half of Night City down if she wished. Their fixer is Dex, one of the best in regards to his job, he has everything to gain by having their backs covered. They have military grade tech and an inside look into Konpeki. They are going in under the best possible circumstances. 
She has to remind herself, review this again and again, that if something goes wrong someone there should be able to take care of it. But, those nerves don’t fade even as she leaves her apartment. 
The Afterlife isn’t far from V’s apartment, practically a hop and skip downtown. Barely five minutes pass before she’s under the roofed alley, nearing the club. Vivid cyan and purple graffiti across the wall, trash along the way.
“Porque ya tengo planes para esta noche!" 
The voice is familiar, Jackie’s and V pressed her back to the side of the vending machine, he’s telling someone he already has plans for tonight. He sounds frustrated, like he’s on the verge of pulling his hair out. 
“Virgen Santsima, ma! Te vas a enterar mañana,” a beat of silence, “también te quiero, ma."
The conversation ways on her, he’s talking to Senora Welles. Remembering Jake talking about her feelings, that the matriarch has been worrying herself half to death. And it sounds like Jackie has been on the receiving end of that worry for a while.  V pulls her mask on and rounds the corner past the vending machine, stepping in front of the main entrance of The Afterlife. Her friend standing in the doorway under the harsh green light. 
“Heh, about time, chica,” he greets, tucking his phone into his pocket, she catches the blue of Misty’s bracelet mingled with his usual gold ones. 
“What’s going on?” 
“Ehhh, y'know. She's worried about me - whatever. Can't help herself, y'know - checkin’ to see if I'm not rottin' in some dumpster… like most of the Welles boys. Been worse lately.” 
“Why’s that?” 
“Started climbin' our way up. Got more an' more knives out there, waitin' to stab us in the back. Higher stakes, higher risk. She can see that.” 
“Look like you’re about to keel over.” V reaches out, touching the red blotches on his skin, stress and sweat inflaming his skin. 
“Years of merc work, and yet,  still sweat like a roasted pig when I talk to my ma. It's really startin' to wear on me. More tell her everythin's OK, more I feel like I'm straight-up lyin’.”
“Well, hopefully you had a nice date with Misty at least.” 
“Went about as well as talking to my ma right now,” he scratches at the back of his neck, “for two women who don’t get along, they sure agree when it comes to worrying about me.” 
“They worry because they love you, worse things in life than people giving a damn about you.” 
“Yeah, yeah, don’t matter none. Not anymore, Afterlife, here we come, baby!” 
Jackie changes the topic and she can’t really blame him for it, rubbing his hands together and practically cheering in excitement. This is everything they’ve talked about, everything they’ve said they want. So, why does she still have a lump in her throat? 
“Afterlife… we’re really here.” 
“Does not get any higher, choom. And you know somethin' else? We fuckin' earned it, chica!” 
“No point in standing around then, is there?’ 
“Ready to get your cherry popped?” he laughs leading her into the club, “Yeeeah! Come on!”
“Little late for that one, Jack,” she teases as they make their way down the stairs, a pair of double doors opening up for them. A short step down into a small hallway with mercs and fixers alike talking under the green glow of a sign bearing the club’s name. 
“Place used to be a morgue - you believe that?”
“Really?” 
“I know, right? Way before our time, that. When proper burials were still a thing.”
They come to another set of doors, through the small window V can see the true club main room beyond them. But a man stands guarding them, around Jackie’s height and a similar bulky build. Cyberware indented along his jawline and nose. His face is stony, eyes sharp when Jackie and V stop before him, then he puts a large hand out in front of him. 
“And who might you clowns be?”
“Jackie and V,” the taller of the mercs says with a grin, “Dexter Deshawn is waitin’ on us.” 
The bouncer gives them a look and V is glad for her mask helping hide her emotions. His expression is dismissive, looking down on them, making her feel all at once that she has not earned her place in this club. A baby merc, new to the city, barely six months under her belt and she’s standing at the Afterlife. How the fuck did she get here? 
“Yo, Dex. Got two live ones sayin' they're here to see ya,” his optics glow as he calls Dex, “Yeah? All right, then. Says he needs a second or two. Go get yourselves drinks or somethin'.”
The doors open to a green and cyan lit club. Music louder as the barrier breaks away, people fill the room. Some sipping on alcohol and other’s puffing away on cigarettes; the smell of nicotine and booze wafting from the bar. 
“Way ahead o' you, viejo,” Jackie laughs and leads the way in. 
V follows him around the corner; the large bar coming into full view. It’s lit green, the same neon sign reading Afterlife at the top of it. A bartender in a blue button up slings drinks to the patrons. Floor to ceiling columns, like tubes, are places around the club each filled with water with a dancer twirling around inside with strategically place chrome clothing covering the most private parts of them. Everything is basked in that green neon light, despite being surrounded by mercs like her, she feels so completely out of place. 
Jackie marches proudly across the bar floor, stride confident and unwavering. 
“This is it… The heart o' Night City! That's it right there - beating. Hear it?” he proclaims as they pass by rows of half closed off booths, “Can you imagine? Susan Forrest, Boa Boa, maybe even Morgan Blackhand… All sat on those stools, fell asleep on that same bar.”
Jackie sits in one of the barstools, beaming and brimming with excitement. His eyes wide as he takes it all in, the place he’s dreamed of for all his years. V climbs into the seat next to him, placing an elbow on the bar, leaning her head onto her hand, as she shifts to face him. 
“Doubt that puts us in the same league as them,” V teases, Morgan Blackhand brought down Arasaka Tower. They’re stealing a biochip, hardly the same thing. 
“Oh, but we are. They just don't know it yet,” Jackie tells her with a wink and she can’t help but roll her eyes. 
“We-” 
V drops her hand when she realizes Jackie’s attention has gone elsewhere, an older woman walking past the two. She’s nothing unusual, older looking than most of the crowd here, sure but nothing immediately stands out to V. An older woman with long gray hair shaved on one side and a bright yellow cropped sweater, She marches her way across the bar and into a blue lit booth, moving past a guard.  
“'Ey. See that old lady there?”
“Yeah, didn’t know grannies were your type,” V taunts him again, he’s always given her shit for her taste in older people, yet he’s ogling some grandma? 
“Fuck off,” he playfully smacks her, but nearly knocks her from her chair, “that’s fuckin’ Rogue, best fixer in all o' Night City.” 
“Thought Dex was the best?” 
“Pff… Rogue was linin' up jobs when Dex was still shittin' in diapers, heh. Place belongs to her.”
“What can I getcha?” The bartender cuts in, hands down on the bar in front of them. She’s a woman with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and a soft round face. 
V doesn’t drink on the job, something she’s always stuck to. But, this is Jackie’s dream and she knows how he likes to celebrate. If nothing else, their banter has failed to undo her nerves, maybe booze will do the trick. 
“You order,” she signs to Jackie and he grins. 
“You drinkin’?” 
“Special night, pick me something nice.” 
“Two Tequila Old Fashioneds with a splash of cerveza and a chili garnish.”
“A duo of Johnny Silverhands, comin' up,” the bartender starts to put the drinks together, “somebody did their homework.” 
“Guessing the dog ate mine,” V signs, confused because what the fuck is a silver hand?
“Age-old tradition. Drinks're named after our regulars,” she explains, putting the drinks down in front of the mercs. 
“What’d I have to do to get a drink named after me?” 
“Snuff it,” she grins, “ In mind-blowingly spectacular fashion, Mid-op'd be best.”
“Aah, what a beaut of a tradition!”
“Steep price for a drink, not going to lie,” V signs, letting her nerves speak for her, if only for a moment. Her guts are in knots, she can only hope the alcohol will untangle. All of the merc’s usual stress relieving tactics other than a weed brownie, have failed to do much of anything.
“Hey, everyone's gotta go sometime, right? Why not in style? Death’s nothing but the final flourish!” 
“To hitting the major leagues,” she signs, holding her shot in the other hand.
“To becoming legends.” 
She pushes her mask just up above her mouth, careful not to smudge her lipstick and  they throw back their shots. Smooth but strong booze with a kick of spice from the garnish, a burn in her throat. Not her style, but she’s had worse. She pushes her mask back down, regarding the bartender, her nametag says Claire. 
“So, who else can I drink here?” She still has no idea who Silverhand is, but maybe there’s a name she does recognize, reading the posted drink menu. 
“All on the menu…”  
“'Cept there's a spot missing. Morgan Blackhand, right?”
“Heh,  true. Morgan's yet to make up his mind he's dead or still kickin',” Claire tells Jackie and V rolls her eyes. 
“Think he’s still alive? It’s been years,” Jackie asks Claire. 
“No way he’s still alive,.” The radio was just talking about the devastation of the tower going down, if that many folks were killed who were just near it, then there’s no way someone who was in the tower survived. 
“Why not? Look at Rogue. Peeps from that era - a species unto themselves.”
“And one day we’re gonna be there too,” Jackie probably proclaims, “speaking of which, name’s Jackie Welles if you want to write down my recipe.” 
“Sure.” There’s a playfulness in her tone, just going along with Jackie’s whims. 
“Shot of vodka on the rocks, lime juice, ginger beer… oh, and most importantly - a splash of love.”
“Haha, I'll remember that.”
“Gag,” V signs just to see the glare Jackie levels her way, the playful smack of her arm. 
“Okay, what’s your drink then?” 
“Literally, the only thing I drink is like cherry cola with a splash of bourbon.” 
“You know those are usually supposed to be reversed, the bourbon and coke.” 
“Maybe so, but, and hear me out… cherry cola tastes better.”  
“Heard you were Dex’s latest finds,” Claire tells them. 
“Just biz, no big deal.”
“How'd you know?” V raises an eyebrow behind her mask. 
“My job to know. Look around - how do you think meres earn their reps? Through gossip rivaling that of schoolgirls, that's how.”
“Mr. DeShawn see you now,” a booming voice rings out behind the mercs, turning around she sees Dex’s bodyguard. The first time she’s heard his voice. 
“Love to hang, imbibe the vibe, but we got an important meeting,” Jackie tells Claire, getting up from his seat and V following suit, throwing some cash down on the bar. 
“Break a leg.” 
“This way,” the bodyguard tells them and the mercs falls in line behind him. He leads them around the bar, past the crowd and through a door towards the back of the club. The lighting shifting, more blue than green as they walk past another vending machine. 
“Damn, holmes, you're huge... Work out?” Jackie asks, unable to stand the silence. 
“Hmm.” A vague grunt as they pass through another door, the music fading as they get further from the main bar. But V can just hear the starting beat of some old dad rock, something about losing another day to pointless drudgery. 
“Same here, y'know, in the ring. You do some kinda exotic shit? Kempo? Ninjitsu?”
Nothing as they turn another corner. 
“Think you could take me, drop me?”
“Jackie…” Why must he sound like he’s picking a fight with the guy?
“In here,” the guard says, stopping and standing in front of another door. 
"Este pinche tipo..."
The door opens and they’re greeted to the first room with warm lighting, though it just seems to be a storage corner. With a cabinet and vending machine. But to the left are barely see through walls of a booth that takes up half the room, through them V can just see T-Bug’s outline and leather couches. 
They walk around, the front of the booth opened. A wrap around black leather couch goes around the back wall and left side of the booth. Dex sat on the back portion, talking into a holo about Excelsior and cold hard eddies. T-Bug sat to side, a table in the center of the room with the Flathead, Jinguji boxes, and shards placed on neat little index cards. There’s a small disconnect leather seat in the right corner, next to the door. 
“Gotta bounce,” Dex hangs up, “well, if it ain’t Miss V.” 
“Whole family in one place! Hah! Finally!”
“That’s one way to put it,” T-Bug teases and a shine of blue catches V’s eye, the netrunner wearing Misty’s bracelet. She can’t help but smile. 
“A’ight, then… Set your butts down comfy,” Dex tells them. Jackie plops himself onto the larger couch next to T-Bug, comfortably spreading his arms over the back of it while V takes the smaller seat, putting her at an angle to see everyone.  She stifles a laugh, seeing Jackie’s leg excitedly bounce up and down. 
“Sweet booth, is it soundproof?” 
“Jackie…” T-Bug scolds and V stifles a laugh. 
“Now, now, Mr. Welles is right. We gon' be goin' over some sensitive material. But if it's all right with y'all, I'd like to start with a question for Miss V… Evelyn Parker - how'd you fare?”
All eyes on her, stomach still twisted in a vise, this is her chance. She’s got to tell him, but she doesn’t want Evelyn hurt. Some fixers will go to any length to get revenge on a client or merc who does them dirty. But, he’s got a right to know the shit she pulled. 
“Intel was good, brain dance was exactly what we needed….” 
“So, she just wanna see wha'ss good, or was there somethin' else?”
“Honestly?” 
“Wouldn’t ask for anything else, Miss V.” 
“She’s high risk as far as clients go. Shady as fuck, naïve as all hell, and genuinely thought she could make me another offer.” 
“Another offer?” Dex’s brow raises about his sunglasses. 
“Wanted me to cut you out for more cash, told her no, of course. But, wouldn’t do business with her again, if I were you.” 
“Cut me out… shiiiit, now that’s rich,” Dex laughs, Jackie nervously laughing along, “Clients... never learn, do they?” 
“You’re not pissed?” 
“Lived in NC too long to blow my top every time some amateur thinks they can take me for a ride. Parker ain't the first and sure as hell won't be the last.”
“Fair enough,” V lets out a sigh, thankful if nothing else that Dex doesn’t seem prone to getting too mad at Evelyn. Maybe she’s being too kind, but she can’t help but think Evelyn is more naive than malicious when it comes to the offer. A stranger to the merc world. 
“I do appreciate you sharin' this info, though, Miss V. You see, trust… …is essential in any partnership that's to be long-lasting and fruitful.”
“Figured you had a right to know, so, what’s the plan?” 
“This.”
Dex gestures towards the shards on the table, V takes the one in front of her and slides it into her shard slot.  UI and graphics lighting up her mask, a map pulling up on the tech. 
“Me and Dex've already covered the fine detes. Ops wise, should be a stroll on the beach.”
“Elaborate, I wanna hear it.” 
“A Delamain'll drop your asses at the front door of Konpeki Plaza,” a picture of the hotel shows,  then two names, “You'll stroll right in thanks to your false identities. Then, with Bug's help, you'll breach the hotel's subnet…”
“Mine and the Flathead's help.” Images of the hotel’s interior and the bot flash by. 
“Last but not least, you slip into Yorinobu's penthouse and klep the Relic,” his words bring up images of the heir and his suite.
“Goes without sayin' we do this on the hush - ideally no bodies, not a one.” The shard shows them The Relic and then blips out. 
“You'll have T-Bug on comms for the duration. Time for your burnin' questions.”
“What’s our cover?” V asks, they’ve been told a thousand times they’ll be acting like corpos, but that’d be hard to do if they have no idea what their story is suppose to be. 
“Hello, Ramón Victorino,” T-Bug looks at Jackie and then to V, “and you’re Hannah Conwell.” 
“Ramón - yeah, OK. What do we say we're there for?”
“Biz as usual. Corpo arms deal. Case anyone asks, you there for a bogus meetin' with Arasaka's defense rep - Hajime Taki. Anything else?”
“How do we get in the penthouse?”
“Yorinobu's got barely any muscle. Hardest part'll be penthouse security. If we wanna disable, we'll need to neutralize Konpeki's dweller - elite ‘runner monitoring the hotel's subnet twenty-four seven. Only catch is there's no way to get in the dweller's den from the outside.”
“Hold on, how you want us to get inside a room you can't get into?”
“Trust me when I say whatever hitch you think up. T-Bug's solved it already”
“This is where the Flathead comes in. You'll have to get him in the ventilation shafts, guide him to the dweller and force the dweller to… take a break. Flathead'll stay there, jacked into the dweller, but thanks to that I’ll be able to roll out your red carpet into the penthouse.”
“Anything else?”
“Transports a Delamain?” She has no idea if the company has an ASL sign like most other corporations and doesn’t have time to think of one on the fly. 
“Preemest cab company in all Night City… Nada mal,” hackie tells her. 
“DeShawn don't ever work with anyone but the best. I consider Delamain just that.”
“Yeah, who needs creepy, nosy cab drivers when you've got a clean AI to get you from point A to point B in style?”
“And how he bags a permit to operate every year's still a mystery.”
“If everythin' goes as planned, Delamain'll drop you back here. If things get sticky, he'll head for the safe house.”
“Which is?”
“The No-Tell Motel. Quiet, no questions asked. Make our next move from there. But I'm flat certain that won't be necessary. Though, there is one more consideration for if it does.” 
“What’s that?” 
“Hate to put you on the spot, Miss V,” Dex explains, “but if shit goes sour, I’m gonna need to know who I’m letting into the hotel. Mask can’t go with to Konpeki, so I’d sure feel a hell of a lot better if I knew what was hiding behind that thing.” 
“Oh… yeah, that makes sense.”  
Even if she’d have Jackie with her when shit goes down,  Dex is trusting her with this heist. The least she can do is trust him to see her face and not write her off or sell her out to The Herd if the chance arised. Not that she can see that happening anyway… 
“Don’t even know why you wore the thing in, V,” Jackie teases. 
“Well, there are other fixers here, didn’t want to give away my face…” 
V carefully pulls off her mask, feeling exposed all over again, a new set of eyes on her face. The merc knows how she looks; five feet with a head of bleach blonde hair and big gray eyes. Not the picture one conjures in their mind when they think of a capable, strong, badass merc. Sprinkle in her disability and the reactions to her deafness; most people think she’s not a threat, weak. 
“That what you’ve been hiding behind that mask? All that fuss, for what?” Dex laughs. 
“Hard to take,” she stumbles over her English trying to sign at the same time, “be taken- seriously sometimes when you’re five foot nothing, deaf, and look like…” 
“Gutterpunk Barbie,” Jackie cuts in to tease, earning him a sharp kick to the shin. 
“Fuck off.” 
“Trust me, Miss V, you pull off this job; ain’t nobody in their right mind gonna underestimate you” 
“That’s the hope...”
“Any other questions?” 
“I got a question. When do we get to the real reason we're all here?” Jackie asks, shooting a wink V’s way. 
“Now's a good a time as any. Fresh talent gets thirty percent always, but I'm willin' to make an exception in your case. I'ma cut you a nice, juicy forty as a bonus for your honesty, V.”
“Much appreciated.” 
“Ka-ching baby!~” 
“Last thing, Konpeki's got a strict no-iron policy. Security gates, the works. So you dawgs'll leave your lead-spitters in the ride, take the Flathead inside in its case.”
“Got your suits from Jinguji on the table.” 
“¡Chido!”
“Thanks, Bug.” 
“So, not to count chickens, but when'll we see our eddies?”
“All depends how Ms. Parker unrolls herself or her role, but a week, two tops is my guess.”
“And what do we do in the mean time?” 
“You sit tight, heads down, 'cause ol' uncle Arasaka be watching. Now, as that ol’ Greek dawg says, life's a banquet - so don't go thirsty, but don't get drunk, either,” he tells them as he leaves the booth, “Your chariot awaits outside.”
“My cue to delta, too. Gotta prep to jack in, be there when you come on comms. Any other issues, now's your chance,” T-Bug tells them, shifting her feet and something catches V’s eye. Delta V emblazoned on the netrunner’s boots, was that there before?
“Plan - your take?” V shakes the thought from her head, must be a brand or a runner thing V doesn’t know.
“Enough, I hope, to put me in a luxury Creton Villa from which I'll never set foot in cyberspace again.”
“Send me a postcard?” 
“No offense, but I'm gonna burn any and all bridges - need a clean break.”
“Gonna take Misty’s bracelet with you?” Jackie teases, grinning because he caught it too. 
“Shut up,” she tells him, rolling her eyes. 
“Uh, just realized something, what’s gonna happen to our clothes? I don’t want to lose my mask…” 
“No worries, put them in the boxes, we’ll have ‘em sent back to your places.” 
“Alright then, lets get this show on the road.” 
“Let's get to work, go ahead and get changed, Delamain is parked out front, uh, okay-”Bug starts to trip over her words when the two mercs start taking off their jackets, “you can use the bathrooms.” 
“Eh,”
Jackie and V shrug their shoulders, the outfits are right there. Not much point in dragging them out to the bathroom. The pair shared a bedroom for the better half of six months, a room with one bed. They’ve seen each other naked plenty, boundaries destroyed a long while back. 
“Why do I bother,” T-Bug rolls her eyes and leaves the booth, letting the pair change. 
V kicks off her boots and takes off her socks, Jackie tugging off his jewelry first. 
“So, you’re nerves still going crazy?” Jackie asks her as she tugs off her shirt, his own tossed off. 
“What do you mean?”  She tugs off her pants, both mercs soon standing around in their underwear. 
“Can’t hide that shit from me, chica, been giving me twice as much hell as usual. You’re freaking out.” 
“High stakes, Jack, of course I’m a nervous mess. Means I give a shit.” 
She pulls the slack on and tugs on the white blouse, buttoning it up. The two of them putting on the corpo clothes, similar in look. Black slacks, white button up tops, black suit jackets, and Misty’s beaded bracelets for protection. Each perfectly tailored for their body types. 
“Don’t sweat it so much, V, we got this.” He sticks his fist out. 
“Sure fuckin’ hope so.” She bumps her fist to his. 
Their street clothes are packed away in the boxes, V puts in her optic contacts and slide on her heels, then they start to make their way out of the booth. But, Jackie stops her with a hand on her shoulder and he taps his throat. She catches on taking off her choker translator, neck feeling bare and odd without the tech. With that they leave out through the club, Jackie carrying the Flathead case and the smaller merc keeps her head down as best she can. Her stomach still in knots as they spot the Delamain in the parking lot. 
Her life is about to change forever; hopefully for the best. She’s on the cusp of having everything she’s wanted since she’s come to the city. The verge of earning the respect of everyone in this city and finally feeling like she’s someone, like she’s done something. 
So, why does she feel like she’s about to puke?
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rpmemesbyarat · 3 years
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RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 11 "Black Friday"
"Be careful. I'd really like to kiss you again."
"I'm saving my energy for Black Friday doorbusters tomorrow morning."
"How about you do the honors?"
"Oh, the holidays. That festive time of year where everyone's decked out in their Christmas finest."
"The season of joy and love and presents begins when the clock strikes midnight."
"I thought you got all your clothing hand-delivered by A-list designers."
"Black Friday is about buying deliberately cheap, totally forgettable Christmas gifts for friends. The obvious cheapness of the gift makes them question our friendship and makes them way easier to manipulate as they try desperately to get back on my good side."
"Is this black toilet paper?"
"Amazing. A pair of mink albino boy shorts."
"I bribe the dude who deals weed off the loading dock to let me in a half hour early."
"Torturing these soulless manatees of senseless consumerism brings me so much joy. And isn't joy what the holiday season's all about?"
'At first I was like, "What a weird turkey." And then it clicked. Like... "Damn, that's a head."
"When you agree with me, it makes me question whether I actually agree with me."
"I am gonna take this opportunity to be the strong parental influence you have never had."
"You are gonna march over to that sofa right now and you're gonna sit down because you are in a time out."
"I'm sorry. Did you just put me on a time out? You do realize I'm not seven, right?"
"Well, behold how badly you've failed."
"I think it's pretty safe to assume that your career is over."
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we're going to the mall to exercise our patriotic right to join hundreds of thousands of our fellow out-of-breath Americans in sweatpants as they make frenzied, ill-thought-out purchases of cheap, crappy garbage they can't afford and don't need. To deny us of that right would be un-American."
"Let's go, sluts."
"I want to know what I'm being charged with."
"You drove your pickup truck through the front window of a Best Buy."
"You killed or maimed people. Let's go."
"Sounds awful, but I'd keep that to yourself."
"You're not really helping yourself."
"Most of the uniformed cops out there are working on a volunteer basis because they get backed up inside if they don't crack a few skulls every day."
"There's a killer on the loose and you're telling us this town has no police force?"
"I don't understand why you have to get us the crappiest gifts possible and then make sure we know about it beforehand just to ruin the surprise."
"I mean, that's like bringing pineapples to Hawaii."
"So would you feel the need to waste $13,000 buying me something I already have?"
"Maybe instead of using my disgusting wealth to buy my friends crap, I should use my disgusting wealth to buy my friends things they would actually enjoy."
"The mall is deserted."
"Oh, go on and shoot me, hag. It'll just make me young and skinny forever and you'll still be old. Come on, finish me off, you shriveled, old crone!"
"First day on the job and I caught a killer."
"Wait, you have a gun?"
"Damn! Why didn't I shoot him when I had the chance?"
"How's your crossbow wound?"
"The arrow missed all major arteries, and I'm currently rolling on some sweet painkillers."
"What exactly are you proposing?"
"I've always had this vision of a band of sisters who stand together like an impenetrable community of shields who kept everyone safe and secure."
"Sometimes, instead of shields, we need swords."
"No one is going to help us."
"No one is going to stop this until we are all dead."
"Well, I'm sorry, but she is a vindictive, amoral woman who no one is gonna miss."
"I say we poison her."
"Did you ever do it in my bed?"
"So you were gay lovers?"
"No, we were not gay lovers."
"I'm an investigative journalist."
"Well, you know, I really love the idea of a bunch of guys from different backgrounds getting together and forming a brotherhood for life."
"Have you ever been to a driving range?"
"What sort of ab regimen are you rocking, bro?"
"I guess the fact that you and I cannot stand one another is finally out in the open."
"Name your weapon."
"So pick your weapon. You can choose sabres, guns, baseball bats, small pebbles, spoons, doesn't matter to me. What does matter, is that we will fight, and we will fight to the death."
"Well, I am sorry that took so long, but, you know, a watched pot never boils."
"Being a millennial feminist means growing up listening to Taylor Swift say she doesn't like to think of the world as boys versus girls."
"That's not what feminism was about."
"How come all the pictures on the wall are selfies?"
"Oh, it smells amazing."
"Where did you get puffer fish venom?"
"I want to be there when she dies."
"That's bliss!"
"Is it nutmeg?"
"I am like a soldier at war. I am killing to stop more killing. It's totally justified."
"But what about moral law?"
"Oh, that would be hard for you?"
"I don't "rage" on Tuesday nights or have competitions about how many girls I can have sex with in one day."
"What I'm trying to say is guys join fraternities to get a sense of structure in their lives. Problem is the structure
they're buying into is antiquated. It's misogynistic and hierarchical and dangerous."
"It's misogynistic and hierarchical and dangerous."
"I don't think I'm in the right headspace right now."
"You're a rare breed, one of the true good guys."
"That's the weirdest explanation for anything I've ever heard."
"We need to think of new ways to kill her!"
"I'm really gonna cherish our time here together."
"Killing is wrong, but, under this circumstance, I don't know what other choice we have."
"Hold on, sluts."
"When I was your age, I was thoughtless about sex."
"If you don't think you're ready, you probably aren't. And if you aren't, well, then no good can come from doing it, anyway."
"The main thing is you have to be perfectly dry. The cryosauna is set to 200 degrees below zero, so any water on your skin freeze instantly."
"How come there hasn't been any screaming?"
"No, we need to get away while we still can."
"Hey, hey, it's enough. The point has been made."
"Why do you want to continue taking this any further?"
"Yes, I feel guilty!"
"Don't you ever call me again."
"I heard about these Buddhist Monks that found a way to meditate, so they can sit outside all night, way, way up in the Himalayas in weather that would kill a normal person, but their core temperature stays totally normal."
"You're thinking of the movie Teen Wolf, you brainless gash, which is not, in fact, a documentary!"
"Uh, Rasputin. He was a mystical Russian peasant who became a close advisor of Tsar Nicholas II because he could magically cure Prince Alexei of his hemophilia."
"Okay, this seems totally not germane to what we're talking about, so can we please just skip ahead?"
"Maybe she has some magical powers that make her unable to die, like some horror movie villain, like Michael Myers, or Jason, or Dr. Giggles."
"So, maybe try on a size zero."
"Okay, I'm not gonna try on the size zero because I won't fit into the size zero."
"This is discrimination!"
"Look at her. Give her something. Give her something to be happy!"
"Come on, what is wrong with these idiots?!"
"Why did you ask me to meet you here? And why are you carrying a bag clearly filled with chains?"
"I thought we could talk about bondage and go for a swim."
"You're all packed up. I thought you were staying until you cracked the case."
"I was just gonna go to the woods and write or something,
like Thoreau, but with WiFi."
"I mean, maybe I could come with you. Might be kind of romantic, you know?"
"I could bring a slow cooker, and we could talk about the case all night over short ribs?"
"Well, I do love short ribs."
"I'll always be able to say that my first was with a great, great, great guy."
"I am a sentient grown woman who has been through
hell the past few weeks, and I'm sitting next to you, now, with open eyes and an open heart, telling you that I want to give myself to you."
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i’ve been aching to commentate spirit phone’s commentary for ages. glad i finally got around to it, this was an ejoyable experience. liveblog below the cut
-i'm like half certain i've heard this commentary before. maybe not the whole way through & it was probably actual years ago
-nice hearing stuff like this. in-depth personal view of the album-making process. makes it seem like more of a real thing i could do myself someday
-neil cicierega real person momence
-i could probably go real in depth about neil cicierega/tally hall parallels specifically concerning like. the arc of their musical careers. but i won't, here
-wild how i legitimately don't care much about micheal jackson
-didnt we get a bunch of spirit phone stems from the needlejuice release/his patreon? we could probably hear the funny track he speaks of here in that
-i love hearing musical artists, especially neil cicierega, talking about the meanings of their songs. like, not only has this song been claimed to hell & back by the tumblr gays, but with later ones i just can't see where he gets these ideas from. also, claiming there's any one meaning or plot to a song just seems silly to me
-shoutout to neil reusing a midi from like, 1998, that he made at 12 years old, whose entire melody was reused for the main verses of everybody loves raymond. loved finding that out on my own 2 years ago. now it's common trivia in this fandom. not bad times
-it'd be neat if neil did individual trans tracks here like he did with view monstel, those things are half of why i consider it my favorite album
-it's a lot easier to ignore the creator's intended meaning behind a song when he can't even remember it. thanks neil
-seesaw effect
-and there's my joke all but 1 of my followers wont get. moving on
-what kinds of movie theater lobbies has neil been to where there are arcade machines. i mean im not one to talk but that does sound rather strange
-why do songs' titles even need to be taken from the lyrics. ive never seen that as any sort of requisite. it's like titling any form of prose you can just give it whatever name ya like
-"this part sounds pretty cool right"
-is neil's vocal range only mildly better than mine? with training i could change that
-oh i haven't processed any of the last 25 seconds hold on
-god. a shit ton of vocal modification in this song. it's like neil returned to his roots but with quality this time
-i, as an ace/aro, have never related more to an allohet guy in my life. what is the point of eyes!
-professional humming/whistling takes skill. it's different from the recreational or casual stuff. i'd know
-there's a name for the way sound (especially music) gets distorted when moving past you and i can't remember it but it's probably what neil's referring to here in the way he recorded the intro
(- update: it's the doppler effect no need to tell me cas already did)
-as someone who hasnt seen the rugrats or take me there by blackstreet i'll just say it sounded like a bouncy music box melody. nice to hear a song that messes with the typical scales though. lydian & diatonic.
-that's a rather specific thing to be glad about, but given what he talked about in his last full audio commentary about the jew harp i suppose i'm not surprised
-i know that tmbg song now. listened to it & saw the music video too. yep they're different alright
-where the hell does neil get all these instrumence from anyway
-huh. hadnt heard this part of the commentary before making my oc concerning this song but i like to hear neil's approval concerning part of my interpretation
-i love how ive heard a billion different tellings of this mellified man story from lem dem fans talking about this song and neil's is by far the wildest
-good god that does only make it worse neil
-i love making liveblogs of lemon demon albums. with the fullerenes or tally hall i cant name a specific dude to take out my woes on generally but with lemon demon i can just say neil all the time. i like being on a casual first name basis with this dude ive never interacted with once ever
-is sweet bod the one other than cabinet man with a demo in the bonus tracks? i forget
-holy shit the boston molasses disaster someone call up soapy if it doesnt already know, it'd love this
-two thousand nine. god i miss the fiddle solo. the ver with it is truly the best one
-he pronounces it jeff? i've always read it as gef with a hard g. that's what i get for knowing words that are never spoken aloud
-that's a fun meta interpretation of this ghost story that's over a century old. i like that
-i've noticed neil generally does the same synths across a whole album. it's especially more clear in the earlier ones, and does mean i occasionally mix up songs between clown circus & live from the haunted candle shop
-ah! ancient aliens! my least favorite track on this album. i cant even claim to have the least interest in a popular one i've just generally not liked this one much from the beginning. so im curious to see what neil's got to say, i think ive been in ~new commentary zone for a while now
-anyway. newest update on the loolin not realizing a song's funky time signature front: i think this one's in 6/4. or at least switches a lot between time signatures. granted i dont listen to it very often for the reasons stated above
-see the way neil describes it. eldritch horror upon being visited by the unknown at a time when humanity'd hadn't even yet had a chance to imagine such a thing occurring. should be right up my alley. but the sound itself & many of the lyrics simply turn me away.
-must i specify i don't dislike it? spirit phone is neil's best album it not being my favorite doesn't mean i think it's bad yadda yadda nobody should be surprised by this it's not like anyone in these fandoms reads my liveblogs <3
-granted i think this is. the first bit of spirit phone content i've made on my blog ever. so who knows things can change <3
-the transitions in spirit phone are much less view-monster transition tracks & more extended outros. view-monster's were a bit more intro than outro sure but they also seemed directed upon making a 2-way rather than 1-way bridge between tracks. or something like that
-.............soft fuzzy man is an incredible nickname for a cat. i'd steal that if i werent afraid of introducing my relatives to lemon demon
-jirls
-an underlying metaphor is good enough. the literal side of the lyrics are fun. nothing but agreement here neil my good man
-the transition into as your father i expressly forbid it from soft fuzzy man is the best one in this album
-buddy you ask if a musical idea has been used before odds are the answer is yes in this day & age the question is has it been used in the way you're using it. like sure this soul jazz record from the 60s that was sold out in kansas stores for a week used this bassline that youve found yourself copying. but seeing as youre using it in some angsty garage rock ballad type tune does anybody actually care
-doesn't everybody like to say things in an unhinged manner from time to time
-imagine having a guitar dad, i say, with my dad being a folk accordion/fiddle dad, which is infinitely worse in every way
-i think he was in an actual folk band at some point. idk the 90s were weird
-iron my life?
-m-more intimate? there are a lot of ways i'd describe this song but intimate isn't one of them. granted as your father is negatively intimate so from there i guess you've got nowhere to go but up
-...still glad to see his interpretation kinda supports my oc at least
-the way he says characters in songs shouldn't worry about death really strongly makes me think this is some sort of. thematic continuation of stuck from dinosaurchestra, even if there's no real death in there. interesting. would also mean that the dad from these past 2 songs is named carlos betty (no last name)
-i literally never assumed this was a flute solo. piccolo at best. it's pretty clearly a recorder
-my mom plays the recorder. i wonder if she can play recorder better than neil cicierega
-we can throw a party in honor of the crushing weight of responsibility! i simply won't be the one throwing it because i have enough on my plate already <3
-what the hell does "a sense of intent" mean
-i've never heard rush before however i disagree with neil's understanding of 6/4. 6/4 is meant to have emphasis (onbeat or another term i can't remember) on the 1st & 4th beat of every measure, which is greatly different from a measure of 4/4 then a measure of 2/4. it's why his 5/4 always sounds weird, because while it's recognizable in sequences of 10/4, it's more 2 measures of 4/4 with one of 2/4 tacked on the end. that's also how it's different from 3/4. i don't know much music theory but what i do understand i will fight to the death about
-"canonized" that's. a very interesting term to use when referring to a former president
-from now on i will interpret every love song directed at some unseen "you" to be inviting me to marry them for tax purposes. thanks neil for being an aromantic icon
-ah hell yes hell yes man-made object is my favorite goddam song on this album
-short & sweet & good damn vibes. neil's thoughts on it all are only making it better
-wild how he uses very few vocal effects for a song that he clearly is straining his vocal range for. go off neil
-the qualifier of man-made is a wonderful thing. oldest or biggest thing? oldest or biggest man-made thing? what a incredibly important specification. a world of possibilities lie between the two. oh i love it
-just gets me thinking yknow! what we consider weird/impressive in another species, in our own species- what kind of equivalent to that would there be from an outsider looking in? are there alien versions of the significances we place upon things, that we could never imagine? the limits of the human imagination mean we could never conceive of something else in the world that isn't, in some way great or small, just like us- and are we wrong for thinking that? such a juicy topic i wish there were a name for it because it's kinda hard to explain concisely
-spiral of ants. my second favorite song from this album, in fact. a good one to experience
-the vocals are just another instrument. they really truly are. i wasn't going into this commentary expecting to feel solidarity for neil cicierega in this chili's tonight on more than one occasion but here i am.
-like, his whole stance on interpreting songs is something i agree with almost entirely. you can take it at face value, you can dig to their very depths, you can listen to songs without caring what the lyrics mean whatsoever, and those are all fun. & yeah while any of these people can be annoying as one of the types who enjoys gliding on the surface more than anything i find those who dedicate themselves to figuring out the whole meaning of a song over anything else to be both slightly scary & slightly annoying <3 keep up the good work
-i want to make songs for my siblings the way neil makes songs for his sibling(s)
-spinch
-neil really shouldn't be allowed to be this funny like this whole album youre thinking golly! he's just a normal man this neil cicierega! and then he starts listing the cat hacks jokes & you remember he's had ridiculously consistent viral success with all his humorous endeavors and holy shit it's neil cicierega in action talking about his music. god bless you neil
-you're welcome, no problem, my pleasure. good eveternoon, radio audience!
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omniswords · 4 years
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Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 12
happy Chronicles update! I know I waited a while to post this one, but I feel like I’m in a good place to share it now. so, I hope you like it! it’s... an interesting one.
from: itsdjbubbles 29 July, 19:30. La Tortue. you and your group got a setlist?
to: itsdjbubbles i… could have a setlist. and we’re more of a band than a group.
from: itsdjbubbles hell yeah, dude. you’re in.
–––
just saw adrien agreste in person. In Person. i don’t think i can even afford his aura. or, like. the CO2 he’s breathing out?
no, i’m not going to say where. i’m not a total dickwad. just sometimes. mostly because my sister would come for me if i didn’t say so.
also, fellow parisians, who hopefully are not or have not been as much of a dumbass as me: watch this space for an announcement, maybe.
Adrien Agreste is right. There. In all his swoopy-blond-hair, thousand-euro-smile, million-euro-clothing glory. Hanging by the doorway, and seeing him standing at the register like an actual human being, and laughing like an actual human being, and paying with a debit card like an actual human being, is like looking into the goddamn sun. Or like standing in the weird static, plasma dimension that exists between the TV screen and real life. Or both.
Okay. Luka will admit that, for a time that now feels both distant and delirious, he… probably entertained a celebrity crush on Adrien Agreste. But it was short-lived, and it felt more like a warm fuzz in his stomach whenever he passed by those radiant advertisements for perfume, men’s clothing, even underwear. Really, the more he thought about it, the more he was just admitting that Adrien Agreste had a certain charm and attraction because he, like many people in Paris, had a functional pair of eyes.
It was… fantasy, really. Self-indulgent. The way most infatuation tends to be. Observation with a cause; he heard it once in a song.
Adrien Agreste is still standing right. There. At the register. And Luka hasn’t moved from the entrance. Not even when the door hits him unceremoniously in the back and the bell above it mocks him as it announces his arrival.
And then Adrien Agreste turns on his heel, slipping his wallet into his back pocket with one seemingly perfect hand and gripping a pastry box with the other, and Luka’s body reminds him to step aside. He does, still dumbstruck despite how Adrien Agreste literally smiles at him and says good morning, and the door closes behind him again, and not for the first time in his life, Luka forgets what words are or how to string them together.
When he comes to his senses and makes peace with the fact that he just shared the same breathing air as a real-live supermodel, he notices—even from this far away—that Marinette is wearing that expression again. The one from the park. The one he wishes never existed—because even if this is another observation with a cause, he at least has the good sense to know that Marinette Dupain-Cheng does not deserve to look so sad, no matter how many smiles she layers on top of it.
Until now, it seems like Marinette’s only been looking past him, but when her eyes finally settle on him, she perks up a bit from her place at the register. “You dyed your hair,” she says by way of greeting, and he swears her face starts to glow. Or maybe it always was glowing. Maybe it wasn’t because of him.
“Uh,” he replies, because when has he ever been smooth when she’ s looking at him like that? or at all? “Technically, Jules did.” He says it hurriedly, so neither of them has to worry about it or talk about it, but then she has to go and tell him that it looks good on him, and his words have to get stuck on his tongue again when he says, “Thanks, I grew it myself.”
Kill him. Now. He’s ready. Juleka can have his guitar.
“So,” he goes on, a little perkier than he means to, but it’s probably for the best. “That was, uh… that Adrien Agreste guy, huh? You know him or something?”
Marinette’s expression is almost unreadable. It is hard to tell if she regrets knowing Adrien, or if she thinks Luka must be living under a rock because everyone knows who Adrien Agreste is. She snaps back to herself soon enough, and she’s browsing the pastry cases as though it’s her responsibility to find something good for him. “We used to go to middle school together,” she explains. “Just for a while. I even used to have this mondo crush on him. Can you imagine?”
“Yeah,” Luka says, because he can’t count how many times he’s imagined her in love, much less how many times he’s imagined other people in love with her. “Huh. I pegged him as the type to get homeschooled or something.” He tosses a glance behind him, just to see if the limo is still there, but it’s long since peeled away. “What… happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“You…” He pauses. “You said, ‘used to?’”
“Oh,” she says, half-flippant, with a sheepish laugh to match. “Y’know.”
Luka narrows his eyes. “No, I don’t,” he says. “That’s… why I asked?” Even though he maybe, definitely shouldn’t have because it maybe, definitely isn’t his business.
Marinette shrugs, busies herself with boxing up a selection. He doesn’t even have to ask. (Is it good that he doesn’t have to ask?) “I switched schools. That’s all. Turns out absence doesn’t really make the heart grow fonder after all.”
It doesn’t sound like that’s all, especially if the bittersweet look on her face has anything to say about it, but who is he to push? Who is he to do anything but peek into her life and feel grateful, privileged, for what she’s allowed him?
“Anyway,” she goes on; it’s mesmerizing, watching her multitask. The grace with which she can open herself up, so clipped, while taping a box shut. “Our friend is making this music video for a summer class he’s taking. He’s really into film, you know? And we’re playing opposite each other in it. I guess he wanted to come by and chat about it, but I think he had something else in mind.”
Luka’s brow furrows.
When Marinette turns, box in hand, her lips scrunch up awkwardly. Like she’s the one who doesn’t know what to say this time. “Now he’s the one who…”
Oh. Well. Fuck.
“I turned him down,” she adds with a shrug. “In high school. And we’re still… sort of friends. We text and stuff, have a couple of mutual friends. I just get the sense those feelings—his, I mean—never really went away. There’s just… something I can’t shake. Do you know what I mean?”
Does he know what she means? Does he feel? He nods, dumbly, and maybe this moment separated by a counter and a cash register isn’t supposed to be as deep and twisted and thorny as it is. But it is, and it feels that way because he feels, and he wonders if she feels it, too. If there are parts of her that never went away, either.
“Sorry,” Marinette blurts out once the moment ends—too soon, as far as he’s concerned. “You didn’t ask to hear all that.”
“I don’t mind.” Luka offers her a smile because it’s the best thing he has on him. “Life stories, remember?”
She smiles back. It’s slow, and knowing, and it makes him melt in his shoes. “Are you gonna make a song about it, Music Man?”
Okay. Okay. Wow.
Maybe it was worth staying alive for literally this one moment.
“I could write a song about it,” he says; it’s a miracle he doesn’t stammer. “Would you come and listen to it?”
“In the park?”
“At a gig.”
Marinette looks surprised, and then impressed, and damn if he doesn’t want to keep doing things that make her make that face. “Maybe I will,” she says, almost demure, like he asked her on a date or something. (Did he? Ask her on a date?) She looks just past him, and when he follows her gaze it lands on a bulletin board by the door. “Maybe you should swing by with a flyer or something.”
“Maybe I will.” Wow, two for two. He takes the box, reaches for his wallet. “I’ll watch that video, too, we’ll call it even—”
Her hand is on his before he can even pull out his card. And it isn’t until after she’s pushed his wallet back toward him that it finally registers that she’s touched him. “Don’t worry about it,” she says. “It’s on the house. Just bring the flyer, and then we’ll call it even.”
Luka looks between her and the box a number of times, too many questions on his tongue to get any of them out. Why is she being so nice to him? why does she insist on giving him things he hasn’t worked for, or finding loopholes to prove that he did work for it? Is she flirting with him? Or does she pity him? Or is she just being nice because he’s one of her parents’ regulars? Or does she… does she, maybe…
He holds his breath, and searches her eyes, and gets lost in the music he’s still sort of trying to place. He slips his wallet into his back pocket all the same, and he takes the box from her, and it’s ridiculous how fiercely he wishes he could feel her fingers brush the back of his hand again. “You got a deal,” he murmurs—mentally kicks himself for sounding so out of touch. He backs out of the store like it’s illegal to tear his eyes away; it feels like it is, when she’s smiling at him like that. The Not For Customers smile.
Admittedly, he wonders if she ever gave Adrien Agreste that smile, once upon a time.
Maybe he shouldn’t have wondered, because his back bumps right into the door, and the bell above it jingles as though it’s annoyed. But Marinette isn’t; in fact, she giggles behind a hand, and she gives him a little wave like she’s going to keep the memory safe in the pocket of her apron. He manages a weak laugh, and a wave of his own, and then he’s stumbling out the door and walking his bike to the first open bench he can find. He needs to sit down. Put his head in his hands for a while.
Because he thinks she just flirted with him. And he thinks he flirted right back. And he knows she just touched him, in spite of everything she told him about Adrien, in spite of him being right. There. And it’s all finally, finally sinking in, and the world is spinning in a way he’s not really used to, and…
Maybe he just needs a sugar boost.
Shaking his head and sighing, he pops the seal on the pastry box, fully prepared to find a half dozen napoleons inside. There aren’t—only two pastries.
One napoleon.
And one pear tart.
His heart stutters. Makes up for how he didn’t before.
That’s how it gets him.
hey mom? mr. president? deity of indeterminate gender?
how do i go about legally changing my name to Music Man?
you know. hypothetically.
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mikeyswayy · 1 month
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I uhm..
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Feel free to take both of them..
Mostly the dog though.. I love my Frankie! Our* sorry..
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baby-grayson · 4 years
Text
Kind Stranger| Part 2|GBD
Read Part 1 Here
 Word Count: 2.8k (teeny tiny)
Trigger Warning: quarantine talk Tags (Thank you to the amazing dumpling that taught me how to do this!!): @evergreendolan​ @someonetogray​ @vintagedolan​ A/N: Thank you to everyone who gave me their thoughts on the first part. Please let me know what you think on this one, I love getting any kind of feedback. 
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Grayson opened his eyes as the earliest rays of sunlight trickled in through his window. He pushed himself out of his bed and began his morning routine in a daze: half asleep as he brushed his teeth and found a clean pair of underwear. His consciousness awoke during his daily piece of avocado toast, which he ate while enjoying the view from their kitchen window. In his groggy state, he left the plate at the table when he went to put a load of laundry in the washer. He took the liberty of moving Ethan’s clothes from the washer to the dryer and starting it for him.
Grayson retrieved his phone from his nightstand, opening twitter for a brief scroll. He and Ethan published their video about Ethan’s acne yesterday; twitter was not very pleased with them. Grayson’s jaw tightened as he read the accusations about him and his brother. Grayson forcefully planted his phone back on his nightstand. He ran his hands through his hair, thinking back to the long nights on the couch where he wrapped an arm around Ethan’s shoulder and consoled him through his journey towards self-love. Without opening it again, Grayson shoved his phone in his pocket before grabbing the keys to the van from on top of his dresser. Walking out of the house, he quickly scanned the entryway and living room. He stopped and went back to place his avocado toast plate into the sink, reminding himself to wash it when he got home. He scanned again, not seeing anything out of place. Silently, he wished Ethan sweet dreams from across the house and slipped out the front door.
His breath left him when he reached the shore at his favorite morning beach. His lips turned down, jaw tightening as he noticed that her footsteps laid in the sand before he arrived. “Of fucking course,” Grayson groaned softly before collapsing down to the ground. It wasn’t enough that his brother was being accused of ugly things by strangers, but he missed crossing paths with Kate for the first time in the two weeks since their nearly silent friendship started. He laid back on the sand, feeling thousands of tiny, jagged pieces creep under his shirt and into the waistband of his shorts.
For a fraction of a second, Grayson thought about grabbing his phone from his pocket and looking again at the comments. He stopped himself quickly. Taking a deep breath, he knew the best way to deal with this feeling was with Ethan by his side. Ethan grounded him. Ethan tethered him back to Earth. Ethan was the cautious, practical mind to Grayson’s own idealistic, fanciful one. Grayson thought about Ethan, at home and laying in his bed. He hoped his brother slept well and long. Poor Ethan was going to wake up to the same storm that greeted Grayson.
No, he’s not going to think about this, Grayson decided dwelling on this topic was no use without his brother. Grayson sat up, his eyes followed Kate’s footsteps all the way to the right and then all the way to the left. Why was he so excited to see her? She was just a girl. A pretty girl, sure. But Grayson had met lots of pretty girls over the years. Damn, Ethan was right…maybe Gray was getting desperate. Next thing you know, he would be writing love letters to the old lady at the grocery store check out counter.
Damning Ethan aside, Grayson was genuinely excited to see Kate. She had crossed his mind more than once during his morning drive. He didn’t know anything about her. Grayson looked down at her footprints again, the only sign that she had already crossed the shore. He squinted.
One footprint was deeper than the other. Odd. He reached over with his own thumb to make sure his eyes were not tricking him. Yup, one foot was a whole half-thumb deeper than the other. Maybe she wears weird shoes. He didn’t think long on this before kicking some sand into the footprint. He swung his shirt from his head and rested it beside him. He laid back. If he couldn’t surf, and he couldn’t talk to a pretty girl, the least he could do was work on his tan.
The sun felt good on his skin. His breathing slowed, and he found a serene inner quiet. On that early Thursday morning, on a secluded beach in Malibu, Grayson found a moment of peace. 
“You’re late” He grinned, feeling his face get warm.
“I thought you already left,” he opened his eyes to be greeted by her smile. “You do realize I have to walk back to get to my car right?” she chuckled and kicked off her sandals. She laid her purse in the sand and dropped to sit beside Grayson. He noted a sweet, citrus scent as she settled down on the sand.
“I guess I didn’t think about you having a car, you kind of just appeared here every day” “That’s fair, I’m probably just a figment of your imagination.” If it wasn’t for her laugh, Grayson would have considered that a possibility. “That is a possibility,” he chuckled, “why do you come out here anyways?”
She paused for a moment. Grayson noticed the sea breeze lift her dark locks from her shoulders. “I’m new to town,” she decided on. “Being stuck in my apartment during a pandemic, when I don’t know anyone around here gets real boring, real quick.” Grayson nodded in agreement. “What about you? I’m surprised you’re here without your board.”
Grayson sucked in a soft breath against his teeth, “I like being here. I mean, I like the beach. It’s a good place to get away, have a moment.” “Wow, that’s deep dude.” She looked at him with a glossy look in her eye and her lips pursed. Grayson looked back, feeling his cheeks get warm again. She threw her head back and let out a loud laugh. “I’m sorry. Sarcasm isn’t nice,” she said with a warm smile. Grayson shook his head softly and smiled at her, “I’m down with it.” Was that cringe? It sounded cringe. “But no, I really love the beach. I guess it’s my space to not have to think about the rest of the world.” “Hm..how California boy of you,” Grayson chuckled along with her this time. She was cute, the way she poked gentle fun at him. She was silly. “So you said you’re new here? where are you from?” She started “West Philadelphia born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days” Grayson joined in “Chilin out maxin relaxin all cool, shooting some b-ball outside in the hood” They shared a warm laugh. Grayson grinned as she flashed him one of her bright smiles. “But really, where are you from?” He probed. She laughed, “West Philly, born and raised. Weren’t you listening?!” They giggled together.
“That’s cool,” he responded as his smile grew wider by the second. “I’m from just over the river in New Jersey.”
“Oh, so you’re not a native California boy. So tell me— how long do I have before the water gets to me and I turn into a blonde, Instagram goddess?” There she goes again, soft pokes. Kind of like kindergarten.
“I’m not sure. I’ve been here five years and I have yet to turn into a goddess if that means anything”
She laughed, “Well it’s good to know time is on my side.” She played with the brown leather band of a simple wristwatch. She looked down at the watch face and mumbled, “shit.” She started to gather her purse and sandals from the sand and stand as she said, “I’ve got to go. I’m going to be late for…something.” She wrestled her sandals onto her feet.
Grayson felt a wave of awkwardness wash over his body. Should he offer to walk her to the car? No, that’s too much. Should he ask what she’s going to be late for? Maybe that’s a little creepy.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” She pushed her hair behind her ears, looking down at Grayson on the ground. “Yeah I’ll be here tomorrow.” Grayson smiled shyly, more aware of his body language now than he had been for the past half hour.
She started to walk up the beach but looked back at him, “Don’t be late! Bye Grayson” His name sounded good coming out of her mouth.
”Bye Kate!” Shit, I should have asked for her number.
Once she was out of earshot, Grayson groaned out loud and threw a rock into the ocean. He watched the tiny, smooth thing pierce through the rough, complicated ocean surface. Grayson wiped the sand off his body as he stood up and started to walk back to his van.
When Grayson arrived home, he found Ethan at the counter, in his underwear, eating some cereal and dairy free milk. “You see twitter?” Ethan commented as Grayson put his keys down. For a small moment, Grayson had forgotten about the video fiasco. For a second, he had forgotten about every part of his place on the internet. His tough but clearly upset brother brought him back to reality. Grayson moved toward the counter and wrapped a familiar arm around Ethan’s shoulders.
 ***********
As Grayson settled into bed, later that same day, his mom called him. His mother asked if he and Ethan were willing to fly out to New Jersey to spend the weekend with her. His mother told him that his sister was coming for the weekend and she wanted all of her kids under the same roof for a few nights. Grayson told his mom that he and Ethan would make it out to Jersey for the weekend, wished her a good night, and said he loved her. Grayson used his phone to buy two plane tickets for Friday evening: tomorrow evening.
He thought about Kate. What if he doesn’t show up on Saturday and Kate thinks he’s not interested? Or mean? Or weird? Or a flake? And deep down, in a place he wasn’t ready to touch yet, he wanted more of her. He found solace in how different she was, so grounded and natural compared to his LA lifestyle. His own slice of New Jersey on a California beach.
He wanted to go back and talk to her every day, all day, until they both lost their voices and had to draw pictures in the sand to communicate. He had yet to separate these deep feelings from his general loneliness, it had been over a year since he was more than anyone’s ‘Netflix and Chill’. Ethan had taken to calling him desperate and urging Grayson to audition for the Bachelor. He pushed these thoughts aside, not having the emotional bandwidth to process this all right now. He was going to ask for her number. People still did that right? Maybe it had been too long for Grayson…
 **********
The next morning, Grayson felt the beach winds move through his loose muscle shirt. He ran a hand through his hair, still getting used to its new short form. He decided against sitting on the sand since he was not intending to be planted on the ground today.
The decision not to sit started his anxiety. He was changing their routine, what if she wasn’t okay with it? Why didn’t he think of this earlier? How long were they going to spend together? What if she was just being nice? What is it that she called herself? Yeah what if she was just being a kind stranger?
Once more, he ran a hand through his hair. He plunged both of his hands into his pockets to prevent any future hair touching. He took a deep breath in, listened to a wave break on the shore, and released the air from his lung. When he looked up, a dainty, happy figure was walking toward him. “Good Morning” she said sweetly. “Good Morning,” Grayson smiled and took his hands out of his pockets. Oh no, did he just mess up his outfit? “Would you believe this is the first time I’ve seen you standing up?” she placed a hand over her eyes to look up at his face against the light of the sun. “I promise I don’t usually spend a lot of time on my ass” Was that funny? That was supposed to be funny..
She took a moment to look him up and down. Her eyes locked on his. “I thought you’d be taller”
Grayson laughed heartily while she smiled with an accomplished look on her face. He quieted down and found a moment when they were just standing there, looking at each other. A happy Grayson let the moment hang in the air before saying, “Can I join you? I’m curious to see where this beach leads.” A half-truth. Kate smiled and nodded “Yeah, come along. But don’t be disappointed, it just leads to more beach.” Grayson already knew that, but he nodded along anyway, “Still, I feel like a walk” The pair started along the shoreline together. Grayson smelled her familiar sweet, citrus scent. He felt the sunshine down on his arms and the exposed parts of his back, energizing his entire body. Her bright eyes met his and they shared a smile. From a few yards away, they heard a peculiar, gulping noise. Grayson looked up while Kate pointed and laughed at a seagull attempting to eat an entire banana.
Once again, on that Malibu beach, early in the morning, Grayson found a rare moment of peace. He looked down, seeing his large footsteps align with her tiny ones. I should say something, I should say something. Grayson felt his face go hot again. Grayson gulped down again, shaking his palms subtly to dislodge the sweat coming to the surface of his skin. He looked down at her face, beaming brighter than the sun on that Friday morning.
Grayson looked down at their feet, watching her walk along the sand. He saw her right leg dig deep into the sand, gracefully holding her body up. Then, he saw her left leg meekly touch the surface of the sand before trading off duty to the other leg. The footprints…
“Did you hurt yourself?” Grayson gestured down to her left side.
She stiffened. Her shoulders fell back like a toy soldier; small and inviting but erect and ready. Grayson’s eyes wandered to her lips; her full pink mouth sat pursed above her chin. She let out a small breath before replying. “No…I have a bad leg.” Grayson heard the period at the end of the sentence. She was curt with her words, but not harsh.   “Oh, I’m sorry…” Was he sorry for asking? Or sorry that she had a bad leg? Well, he was sorry for both, so it didn’t really matter.
She nodded softly. Silence hung in the air around them. On one side of them, the ocean crashed into the shore. On the other side, an eerily quiet LA hid behind the cliffs. “Speaking of injuries,” she broke the silence, “how’s your foot?” “It’s doing better, “Grayson noted, “I’ll probably be back on my board by Monday.” Or maybe Tuesday, or Wednesday, or Thursday… “well if you came out looking like that, I would hate to see the other guy,” she smiled sweetly at him, “even though he’s a pebble” she held in a small giggle. “Funny you say that, I’m leaving tonight to spend the weekend with my mom. I’m worried that I might meet a mean pinecone and injure the other foot,” Grayson joked. “I’ll be here if you’re in need of anymore emergency medicine” she quipped back. “Thanks for the offer,” he chuckled. “But I’m actually going home to Jersey for a few days, so I’ll be too far away for any in person care.” Grayson swallowed hard in his throat. “Could I have your number?”
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. Was that funny? Did she like it? Did she like him? Was she just being polite? Was that okay? It probably wasn’t okay. He hadn’t done this for like a year and a half. Do people still use phone numbers? What if she says no, how does he play it off? He felt a single bead of sweat dance down his neck and meander its way down his back.
She looked at him. She really looked at him. She saw the diamond embeds on his canine teeth. She saw the silver chain on his neck, sparkling in the reflection of the sun. She saw the tattoos covering his legs. She saw his muscles bulging through his tank top. He was so LA, so very LA and yet he wasn’t. And that part of him that was so not LA, made her say “Yeah, of course you can.” A/N: Thank you for reading! I really appreciate it! I would love to get feedback on the length. I prefer to write in short pieces but edit them heavily before I post them. I can write longer parts but it will take more time. Also, I know the pacing is a slow so tell me how you do/don’t like that.  Thank you again for reading bb <3
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eddsworld-headies · 3 years
Text
Eddsworld Girlfriends| Tudor Mansion Part 1
Me being self indulgent with OC's cause I can >:)
Part 1
“Hey there, Teddy bear! What’s up?” Mayleen asked, her phone set on the coffee table and the connected earbud resting in her ear as she fixed the pillows on the couch and watered a few of the nearby plants. Her green apron contrasting her tan sundress and pale skin, long blonde hair pulled up in a temporary bun and straight bands curling nicely against her round face.
“Hey May,” Edd said softly, sounding flat and down. She frowned slightly, moving over to the coffee bar to water the flowers underneath the top. “You sound down. What’s wrong Pookie?” She asked, setting the green watering can on the table top as she moved to behind the bar to clean up her area with customers passing by the window. “ Well, you know that big commercial I’m working on?”
“The one with Cola! I’m so excited to see it, Edd! Your animation is so creative, I would’ve neer been able to put together something like bacon and butterscotch!” She praised, bright smile wide as he wiped her bakery goods display case down. “ That’s sweet of you muffin, but the company wants to meet with me and schedule some more commissions.”
Mayleen stopped, getting up from her kneeled position and letting out a sharp laugh as she smiled. “ Oh my god. Oh my god! Edd! That’s amazing sweetheart!” She said excitedly, physically jumping a little in brown heeled ankle boots. “I can’t believe it! This is gonna be it, Eddy! This is gonna be the one that gets you big, I just know it!” She moved around the counter and back to the coffee table to grab her phone. “ Butter-cup,” He breathed from the other end of the phone.
“They want me to come this week. They've got a plane lined up and everything to bring me over.”
Mayleen stopped for a moment, sitting down.
“What?”
///////////
“I’m so sorry, Darling, but the modeling agency just sprung this on me! A big brand wanted my gorgeous face to model their make-up.” Matt said, voice slightly loud as Serena pressed her phone between ehr ear and shoulder.
Her black wolf mullet pulled back with a hair clip. She smiled nicely at the customer as she packed up his amethyst mirror and vintage jacket, waving him goodbye as she pressed her glasses up her tan nose. “Matthew! It’s okay, Sweets! This is good for you!” She said, her accent originates from her earlier years in Venezuela, but her most recent years seem to dull the pronunciations.
“I know, My darling. I just hate to cancel this week! Our whole trip that we’ve planned for months! Ugh- It sucks.” She laughed at her boyfriend's whining, pulling up her low rise jeans and straightening her band shirt as she walked to the back room. “ I know. It sucks. We spent so much on those rooms too. I mean, how many people get to rent out a thousand year old castle in Scotland? It would’ve been perfect.” She said, reaching up onto the top shelf in the storage room to grab another amethyst mirror to set out.
“I mean, it could still be perfect.”
“How so?”
“ You should go anyway.”
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“Tord, baby. I’m not going away for the week with a bunch of people I don’t know.”
“ It’s not a bunch of people, Ness. You’ve met Edd a couple times-”
“I thought you said Edd couldn’t make it.”
“ He can’t. But Mayleen is gonna be there! You know Mayleen!”
Ness put the jacket hanger back on the rack as she made her way past two girls fawning over a new dress, her long pink hair straight and down to her elbows as she shuffled her bags up to the crooks of her arms.
“ So what, it’ll just be us girls? I’ve hardly met any of them! What if they're uncomfortable with a Trans-chick using their bathrooms or something?”
“They aren’t like that, Baby. Mayleen is sweet, Serena is super clever, and-”
“I know. They're all great. But have you met me? I’m extreme, Tord. Too extreme for certain people.”
“ Not these ones, I promise.”
She sighed as he persisted, setting her things down on a nearby bench as multiple people walked through the mall. Some gave her a few odd looks. She was 5’8 with chunky pink heels, looking especially awkward with a white t-shirt and jeans shorts. But she paid good money for her figure and got a few ribs removed to look as good as she wanted.
Let them stare, she looked fucking good.
“Okay. Fine. I’ll go.”
“ Yes! I swear you’ll have so much fun!”
“ Yeah yeah. I just hope we’re not gonna be all weird and awkward the whole time.”
////////
“I promise you it won’t be. You’ll have a great time!”
The brunette sighed, running her hand through her short, spiked hair as she set down her snacks and drinks by her gaming set-up, her stream on break and a little timer set for when she’d be back to the game runthrough.
“ I dunno, Tom. I feel kinda weird. I don’t even know these girls, and you know how I am. I don’t do the- Girly girlfriend thing. Unless I’m looking to strike out but I don’t wanna steal one of the guys' ladies friends.” She joked her american accent was a clear contrast to the brit she was talking to.
“Relax, Cansinova,” Tom chuckled from over the phone. “ You’ll be fine. I’m sure they can handle your butchness.” She rolled her eyes as she put the phone on speaker, setting it on her desk and pulling up the sleeves to her blue zip up hoodie and pulled the red sleeves underneath down so they contrasted. Even though she’d probably shove them back up in mere minutes.
“ It’s just weird. What does Tord need your help with anyway?”
“ He has some charity event for inventors that need a few musicians.”
“Ooooh, moving up the chain. Don’t forget us peasants down here when you’re a big famous musician.” She smiled as Tom laughed over the phone, shaking the cuffs of her jeans to get them to unroll. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”
“ I mean, does it even matter if I go? It’s kinda weird, right? Going with Edd’s, Matt’s, and Tord’s girlfriends and I’m just- like some girl you knew that you're sending over.” She said awkwardly.
“I mean, it’d be a real waste of money and a good time. Besides, you’ve been dying to meet Edd’s girlfriend for months. This is a perfect bonding opportunity!”
“Well yeah. He’s my brother. I’ve gotta have the little sister ‘ If you hurt my brother I’ll scalp you’ conversation but.. I mean, this is like a girlfriend thing. What if they think, I'm like, yours?” She asked. “Would that be so bad?” He asked lightly. She flushed. “No. Of course not. But, it’s not true. I mean, haven’t you been seeing that Casey chick? You sure you don’t want her going?”
“Oh, Case? She’s.. Cool.. But Edd and I would much rather have you girls going than no one at all.” He reasoned. “You guys will be spending a lot of time together anyway, ya know. They're always over and you’re looking for a place, maybe it’ll work out for all of us.”
“Yeah, right. What’re the chances we all move in together?” “ I dunno, we’re pretty good with odds. Remember that time-” “ You guys went to hell and met Satan himself? I swear ya’ll were tripping on acid.” She joked. “ Excuse me. My acid is perfectly legit.”
She laughed as she sat crossed legged in her gaming chair as the stream countdown reached 3 minutes. “ Gonna have to cut you short, dude. Starting back up in a few minutes.” “ Alright. I’ll make sure to stop by on my break. Maybe donate a little.” “ Ooooh, dinner and a movie first, Buddy.” She teased, turning to her desk.
“ Yeah yeah, maybe after you guys come back.”
“ I’ll talk later.”
“ Bye Bridge.”
“ Later, Jehovah.”
“ Oh god, now Tord has you saying it-?”
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Survey #442
“the more you suffer, the more it shows you really care, right?”
Would you ever sell your soul? No. Do you believe that something is going to happen in 2012? Welp, clearly not. I never believed it. Have you ever been to the Grand Canyon? No, but I'd love to! When was the last time you slept in someone else’s bed? Uhhh not since I visited Sara, I think. Do you like your music loud or at a reasonable level? Loud, for sure. Louder than I should listen to. Did the last person you kiss have a tattoo? No. What’s the last song you heard? "The Bird and the Worm" by The Used. Has anyone told you they missed you lately? No. What are you most likely to do when you’re exhausted; take a nap, drink some coffee, or go for a run to get yourself pumped up again? Naps definitely win. What are you most likely to pick if you got to choose your topic on a research paper; drug abuse, mental illness, or the death penalty? Mental illness, for sure. What is your favorite month of the year and why? October, bc aesthetic. What’s your least favorite animal? Probably wasps. They're mean fuckers that kill bees. What was your class song when you graduated? Some super shitty country song. Have you ever had to spend the night outside (not camping)? No. What`s the scariest living animal that you`ve petted? A tarantula, I'd say. She was a sweet rose hair that I literally did pet, which you absolutely should not do to tarantulas, but I knew nothing about them at the time. The urticating hairs on their abdomens cause serious itching, and I tell ya, that sure happened. So did you play old school Nintendo or Atari or Sega? If so which one? We had an old Atari for a long time. When/where did you meet your first love? In the hallway, during my sophomore year of high school. Is there anyone you dislike, that you have to see/speak to regularly? Hm, what qualifies as "regularly," really? I don't like my sister's husband, who I see semi-regularly, but I don't really talk to him. Does your family eat any unique foods for Thanksgiving that aren’t the norm? If so, what are they? Nah, not that I can think of. If you eat oatmeal, do you add water or milk to it? What is your favorite flavor? Milk; I don't like it with water. I only eat the apples and cinnamon kind. Was the last video you watched on YouTube a music video? If not, what was it of? It's a let's play. Have you ever been brave enough to cut your hair in a very different way? If you have, did you regret your decision after? Yes, and I still love it. What was the last book you had to read for school? Did you enjoy it, or were you just trying to get through? The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. I loved it. Has anyone you know personally ever won the lottery? If so, how much did they win? Would/have you ever play(ed) the lottery? No to both questions. I have a very addictive personality, so I don't really mess with dangerous things that might tempt that behavior. What band/celebrity/etc. do you know the most information about? Who would you like to learn more about? Markiplier, ha ha. As for who I'd like to know more about... hm. Have your friends met the last person you kissed? Girt has. Who has made the biggest difference in your life? Jason. You get a text from someone saying that they want to hang out - who would you most like it to be from? Also Jason. -_- What is the name on your birth certificate (feel free to withhold your last name for privacy reasons)? Brittany Marie is all you need to know. Even if shopping isn’t your favorite... every girl has a favorite store. What’s yours? My favorite physical store is Hot Topic, but my favorite store overall is Rebel's Market, which I'm pretty sure is just an online source. Which type of undies do you wear most: Thongs, bikini/briefs, bootyshorts, or granny panties? Don't you dare laugh, I prefer "granny panties" lmfao. They're what I'm comfortable in, okay. How many nail polishes do you have, if you were to take a guess? *I* have none. Idk about Mom, but I know not a lot. Are you on birth control? Do you use condoms? I use birth control to regulate my period and ease cramps. If I was sexually active though, both would be musts for me. When did you start your period? How did you react? Who did you tell first? When I got home from school sometime in middle school. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but I was EXTREMELY upset. Like, I cried, because I didn't feel like a kid anymore. My mom was the first to know. Have you ever had sex while on your period? If so, would you ever do it again? NO NO NO NO THAT SOUNDS SO GROSS LKASDFJ;AJW;LKERJA;WEJLRKQWLKE;JR. Which way do you swing (boys, girls, or both)? I'm bi. Or pan. I really don't know. Tell me ALL about your longest/most serious relationship. Are you still in that relationship? How about I don't, because doing that I'm sure will send me in a PTSD spiral. No, we're no longer together. Who is your ALL TIME best friend (don’t count your boyfriend, either, silly!)? Sara. I don't think I've been as close with any other best friend. Which one of your friends has the best singing voice? SARAAAAAAAAAAA. What shade are you in foundation or concealer? I don't have a clue. I don't wear either. Have you ever showered with someone? Boy or girl? Were you completely naked? "Were you completely naked." No, I shower with underwear on. I've showered with my little sister as well as my best friend as a kid. I've never shared a shower as an adult and don't want to. Do you think you’re good enough for the person you like? No. Are you a cuddler or no? If I'm really into you, YUP. And if it's not hot. Wouldn’t it be kinda annoying to have to share a bed every night? No. I miss it sometimes. Have you ever walked on a beach at night? Yes. It's beautiful. Could you go the rest of your life without drinking alcohol? Pretty easily, yeah. Would you marry someone you didn’t love if you were paid 10 thousand dollars? No. I just wouldn't be able to stomach doing that. I'm solely marrying for love. Have you had sex today? I haven't in many years. Do you still care about your last ex? Very very much! Do you own more then one bathing suit? Nope. Is there any alcohol in the fridge? Yeah, but none I like. Who have you recently made up with after fighting? Nobody. Who do you WANT to make up with? Jason. Megan. Do you get scared easily? Hm. It really depends on the situation. Have you seen UP? Never the full movie, actually. I need to. How many coats of mascara do you use? I use it so rarely that I barely know. Two, maybe? What’s your favorite bracelet? The one Sara gave me. I used to always wear it, but it's worn down with time and is too loose for me now, so it's just with my jewelry. What color hair does your mom have? It's naturally gray now, but she dyes it black. Favorite song to listen to when you are mad? "Headache" by Motionless In White does it. What restaurant would you want to work at? NONE. I ain't working with hungry people. I don't want to work with people - period. When people ask “how are you?” do you say “good” even if you aren’t? Depends on who's asking. If it's a stranger or someone I barely know, odds are I'm just going to reply with "fine" or something like that. Were you honestly a good kid? Yes. Is anything wrong with your eyes? I have to wear glasses, so. Have you kissed or hugged anyone today? No. What is your mom’s and dad’s favorite TV show? I don't really know for either. Mom watches loads of shows, and I don't live with Dad, so. I know he really likes The Big Bang Theory, though, which Mom also loves. Have you ever suspected your mom or dad of having an affair? No, but ~supposedly~, Dad did with his now-wife. I don't know what the fuck is true between my parents, though. Do you think buying second hand clothes is gross? It depends on the type of clothing (ex., used underwear is a huge fucking no), as well as the state it's in. Does it gross you out when your parents kiss? They're divorced. That would be incredibly weird, uncomfortable, and impossible with how I know at least Mom feels towards Dad. Do you have a playlist made on YouTube? Yeah, multiple. Do you like dollar stores? I mean, sure? They have good deals occasionally and are a good option to stop for a quick snack or something. Mom doesn't actually *shop* in them, though. What’s the last thing you bought from one? I think a honeybun. Do you think it’s weird how babies are made? Well, yeah. Science can be crazy, though. Have you ever lost a friend over the opposite sex? No. Are you comfortable in a short skirt? I wouldn't be comfortable in ANY skirt. Do you and your family go on a vacation ever year? We essentially never do. Vacations cost money. We don't have money to spare. When you were going out with your last ex and you had the chance to date your celebrity crush, would you have left your bf/gf for them? No, because it's not like I know him personally, while I know her very deeply. Who was your most romantic moment with? Jason. Do you sweat easily? Like you wouldn't BELIEVE. A side effect of one (or even multiple) of my meds is hyperhidrosis, so I can sweat an ocean in two minutes, it seems. It's disgusting, and I am so self-conscious about it. What’s one memory you wish would just vanish? Just a specific moment with Jason that is particularly agonizing to recall. Are you in love with someone? No. Partying or watching a movie? Partying isn't my thing. I'd have more fun watching a movie with friends. What pisses you off the most? Child molesters/rapists, probably. Where do you want to be at a year from now? I just want a job by then, dude. I also hope I've lost a lot of weight. Do you like pickles? Only dill pickles. If you saw someone broken down on the side of the road, would you stop to help? Honestly, no. I don't trust people. What do you do with your plastic grocery bags after you unload your things? We put our plastic bags into one big bag for later use. Have you ever slept in a water bed? Yes. How often do you use Flickr? I don't. I only ever check my friend's for meerkat photos, ha ha. Share three nice memories you have of the person you fell hardest for. No, unless you want me to cry. Have you ever made any of your friends cry? Not deliberately of course, but yes. Do you look decent in your most recent photograph? God no, I look high. Out of all the guys you know, who would you trust to not cheat on you? Girt. I know he never would, especially because HE'S been cheated on. How do you plan on disciplining your children? NOT by physical means, I can tell you that much. If I actually had kids, I'd teach them through (hopefully) primarily deeply talking things out. If need be, there'd be time out, grounding, things like that. I do NOT support methods like spanking your kid, so that's a big no. If you could live in another country, would you? What country? Yes; Canada. If you could change your name, what would you change it to? Quinn, probably. What’s one health problem you wish you didn’t have? It's a tie between depression and anxiety. What is your cure for hiccups? NOTHING works for me. It's the worst. Did you ever do anything in class that annoyed other students? I mean, I don't think so. Have you used a Ouija board and had a freaky experience with it? I've never messed with one, and I don't want to. I don't know if I believe in their supernatural abilities or not, but I ain't fuckin around and finding out. Do you stick with a political party, or vote for who you like best? I pick based on their policies and morals, not necessarily their party. Do you know anyone who is an albino? No. Word search or crossword puzzle? Word searches. When you watch a game show, do you like to see people win or lose? Aw, who wants to see them lose? It's great to see people win and be so excited. Do you have a pair of fake redneck, vampire, etc. teeth? No. What is your favorite Pixar film? Finding Nemo. Do you get really mad when you lose a game? Not at all. I'm not very competitive, and games are about having fun. When was the last time you used a pay phone? I actually don't think I ever have. Who did you have your most amazing kiss with? Jason. Do you go to church every Sunday? I never go to church as I'm not religious. If you had to get famous for one of the following, which would you choose: music, acting, writing, modeling? Writing. What do you think of girls with huge boobs that don’t wear bras in public? Who the fuck cares. If they're comfortable and at least have a shirt on, let 'em. Most women have breasts, big whoop. Do you even like politics? God no. What’s it like at raves? Oh god, I'd never go. Have you ever had a dream in which you were making out, or more, with someone? lol yes
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oneweekoneband · 3 years
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To Leave Or Die In Long Island
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Of course, BTMI! was just getting started. Less than a year after the release of the debut, Jeff came out with a second album (well, at 8 songs, it’s more of an EP, or mini-album, or, in Jeff’s words, a digital “10-inch”). Though To Leave Or Die In Long Island is shorter in length than Album Minus Band, that only seems to have helped to focus the sound and songwriting on it. In some ways, it’s more conceptually ambitious, too – the album begins and ends with the same melody in a kind of parallel structure. Almost everything that was great on Album Minus Band is honed to a finer point here. (Strangely, according to this interview, this is apparently Jeff’s least favourite BTMI! album; while I understand his reasoning why, it easily ranks as one of my favourites.) As on that album, for example, Jeff continues to criticize the state of the 2000s punk scene. But instead of simply lashing out at obnoxious trend-chasers, his targets get more specific and his lyrics more potent as a result: opener “Happy Anterrabae Day!!!” takes aim at the overly-violent culture that can still be observed at hardcore shows. Between the first verse to the second, Jeff moves from jeering at the guys who threaten “some fourteen-year-old” to suggesting ways to improve the situation: “If I kissed you on the nose or offered you a hug, / How could you possibly still wanna fight?” He ends with a reminder of the positive possibilities of punk rock: “Think about the reason you went to shows at twelve years old, / We all felt alone, it was not to kick my ass!”
Whether it’s the inside-joke about a bandmate’s ladder-climbing career offer to join a more successful band (that didn’t work out in the end) on “Congratulations, John, On Joining Every Time I Die!” or the under-a-minute hardcore punchline of “Showerbeers!!!”, the album really shines on the lyrical front even when it feels like Jeff isn’t trying (which he admits he wasn’t on “Showerbeers!!!”). Then there’s the more serious stuff: “Dude, Get With The Program” is one of Jeff’s best songs about the paper-thin quality of that bullshit facade upper-management types put on when trying to soothe class antagonisms in their workplaces. Inspired by an experience he had at a job in which a company’s managers started lecturing workers on being part of their “family” right before the paycuts and firings began, he vents his frustrations: “You’re working on your first million, / I’m on my first thousand, / And bills are due tomorrow.” There’s the emptiness of the rhetoric fed to those who get the short end of the stick under capitalism: “You didn’t get fired, you’re ‘laid off.’” The chorus clears it all up: “You could have figured out a way to help us out, / But you just said: / ‘Hey, go ahead and get fucked!’”
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By contrast, the less-oppositional “Stand There Until Your Sober” has been a long-running fan favourite possibly due to its confessional quality. It’s a song about drinking too much, feeling like you’ve fallen behind in life, like you’ve missed your chance to grow up, and being generally miserable with nothing to look forward to except the awesome party you have planned for your friends at your funeral (because “mourning is for suckers!”). Over a relatively sparse 3/4 groove with some nice musical flourishes (those backmasked acoustic guitar chords that open the song always get me), Jeff sings about the city’s ambient lights blocking out the stars, making out with a stranger on a boat, and earning only “a hundred and ten bucks for twenty hours” while watching his friends achieve a comfortable stability in life that always seems out of reach for him. It’s the ultimate loser’s anthem, and maybe some of the most poetic stuff to come out of BTMI! Even in the midst of the despair, a ray of positivity breaks through near the end of the song: “You’ll finally know that life’s okay, / Even when the bad things happen.”
The music, too, takes a giant step forward on To Leave Or Die. Though Album Minus Band already showed signs of breaking free from the confines of ska-punk, Jeff signals his ambitions to fuck with the formula as much as possible right off the bat with the cheesy fake-out synth-rock intro to “Happy Anterrabae Day!!!”, gradually revving up the tempo until it reaches the hardcore intensity that kicks off its first verse. Remember what I said about Jeff’s harmonies on Album Minus Band? Here’s the thing: he might not be a great singer (something he’d address directly on the band’s final album), but he sure knows how to layer his voice in his wall-of-sound production to trick you into thinking he is. Of course, he pulls back the curtain at the end and mutes all instruments for the final chorus’s last couple “na-na-na” sections, revealing a chorus of Jeffs screaming vague harmonies and polyphonies at the top of their lungs, barely staying in time with each other, let alone in tune. He knows exactly how absurd it sounds and works that to his advantage perfectly – it never fails to make me laugh out loud. I actually first got my sister into this band by showing her this part of the song, which she couldn’t believe would be left in an actual studio recording. It’s both incredibly funny and incredibly punk; what could be more so than a guy going “Yeah, I can’t sing, but how about I make a whole goddamn choral arrangement out of my voice anyway?”
The peak of the album’s musical ambition arrives at its climax and final song, “Syke! Life Is Awesome!” A tour-de-force of multi-section songwriting, Jeff describes it relatively accurately on Quote Unquote as being composed of “20-second blasts of different genres whether it be alt-country, post-punk, reggae or synth pop.” What that description doesn’t quite capture is the progression of the song, from an acoustic-strummed folk-punk intro into a kind of freak-folk chorus strung out on its own silliness, from there to a classic hardcore punk tempo interspersed with a couple bars of ska, building to an unstoppable outro with a horn section that sounds like a Motown track’s backing dialed up to light-speed. That excellent “na-na-na” vocal melody from “Happy Anterrabae Day!!!” is reprised here through the horns at the end of the song, a motif for the observant listener to enjoy. Lyrically, too, this might be one of my favourite BTMI! songs; Jeff says this one was about a time he got to talk with the lead singer of Squeeze and realized how cool it was that his life had turned out in a way that such a thing could happen. It’s the end of the song that really gets me: sprinting across the album’s final stretch, Jeff begins a long, uninterrupted phrase following an instrumental break that details all the weird things that happened in his life in the chain of events that got him to where he was at the time of writing that song. It evokes a sense of wonder at the simple mechanism of cause-and-effect: “And if I knew how to throw a football, / I would have never played any music, / And if never got my heart broken, / I would sing ‘blah blah fucking nothing.’” It’s a celebration of the uniqueness of the timeline that makes your life unequivocally yours, as it could never be any other way. In philosophy, we might call that a “haecceity.”
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only-here-for-jatp · 4 years
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Build-a-Band pt 5 Lukas and Jules
Part 5 is up!
Featuring: Luke POV, Luke building a Julie, and Reggie building a Luke
Not going to lie, not my best chapter. Little sleepy. HOWEVER, some chapters now have pictures at the bottom of the bears (sans outfits) that I’m referencing.
As always read on Ao3 here
And below! ~2300 words
Luke adored watching the faces of his bandmates as they shared Alexander the bear. Reggie was lit up like the sun, and somehow shone even brighter after rendering Alex speechless while he gently swept his fingers over the bear. Alex looked to be slightly in awe, not just in the surprising likeness to himself, but also at the care of thought that went into it.
He was only kidding, mostly, when he whined about Reggie not making him a stuffie. It was less because he needed a small stuffed animal version of himself, but more because he really wanted Reggie to want to make him one. He understood though, why Reggie would make one for Alex rather than him.
Alex had always gravitated towards soft things. For as long as the boys had known him there was something soft and cuddly nearby whether it be a stuffed animal, a blanket, or even just a sweatshirt. Reggie was much the same, although he tried to hide it significantly more than Alex did. Both of them loved such things, looked to them in an instinctual way for comfort.
Luke didn’t have that kind of attachment to soft cuddly things. It certainly that he wasn’t cuddly enough, in fact he was probably the cuddliest of the bunch, but even when he was little, he’d always chosen to cuddle people instead. In fact, he craved being in constant contact with another human being. When he’d been five it’d been his mom, he’d wrap around her leg or crawl into her lap and she’d whisper to him the secrets of the universe.
When he was ten it was Reggie. He’d follow him around, tugging on the bottom of his shirt as Reggie chatted at him in high speed. Mostly though, Luke would grab Reggie’s hand and pull him along into shenanigans and adventures and things that ten-year-old boys get up to. Over the years, there were classmates that teased them, but Luke would just grip harder, stick his tongue out and call them jealous. After all, clearly nobody wanted to hold their hands.
In late middle school, they found Alex. Soon it was cuddle piles on the floor or the couch. Pretty much anywhere all three of them could fit. That was actually most places since all three boys were fairly creative and very few sense of boundaries. It was Alex who he would hug as if it was a lifeline, the only thing keeping him standing, after fights with his mom. It was the three of them linking fingers, hands, arms, ready to defy the world where everyone they trusted, everyone they needed to protect them failed.
He would never dream of mocking the boys for their love of all things soft and cuddly. He figured he’d had his own teddy bears in a way, they just happened to be the very alive, and now very dead, Alex and Reggie.  Instead he watched with a soft smile at Reggie tried to hide his joy at Alex refusing to put Alexander down and getting to go back to Build a Bear the next day. The best moment had when he caught Alex teaching Alexander to play the drums when he thought no one was looking. Yup, his brothers were the most adorable and soon they would all have stuffies of each other to play with, and for that he was incredibly excited.
Luke wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when he poofed into Build a Bear the next morning, but walls covered with animals of all shapes colors and sizes was certainly not it. He could feel Reggie literally vibrating next to him and Luke’s excitement and energy was feeding off it. Oh yes, the kid in a candy store feeling was coming over him. Something about these stuffies felt different. Instead of lifeless stares, it almost felt as if they were alive and gazing fondly at the joy they were bringing to the three ghost boys and the smirking human girl.
He glanced at Julie and was unsurprised to see a soft smile and shimmering eyes as she took them all in. Alex had wandered off to the shelves mesmerized and before he could process what was happening Reggie was dragging him all around the store pointing out cool this and cool that and AHHH did you see. Luke was smiling and hanging on for the ride.
Or he was until he saw the dogs. There was one, like a border collie almost with fire sticking out all over the place and he heard himself scream before he realized the words were his. OHMYGAWD IT’S SO FLUFFY I’M GOING TO DIE.
At this point Julie and Reggie were doubled over and cackling at him while Alex barely spared him a quizzical look. He harumphed. He’d never gotten the appeal before! Not when he’d had Reggie and Alex so he had…. never mind he didn’t want to do THAT math… years to catch up on! He walked over to lightly punch Reggie in the arms as he slowly managed to stop laughing.
He meandered away, peering in all the boxes with Reggie following closely behind him. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he figured he would know it when he saw it. It wasn’t long before Reggie was tugging at his shirt.
“Dude! Dude!” Reggie pointed at a soft caramel brown bear with big sewn in eyes. “It’s you!!” At first glance Luke agreed, it did kind of remind him of him, but as he got closer, he realized that this bear was slightly smaller than the other bears. Which of course is when Luke read the name “Lil’ Cub Brownie”.
Luke whispered yelled “I AM NOT THAT SHORT! I AM 5’8” WHICH IS A PERFECTLY RESPECTABLE HEIGHT”
Reggie just looked at him, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips. “Let’s see what Julie thinks.” He called out to the girl watching them with amusement. “Hey Jules, how tall would you say Luke is?”
She gave Luke a quick up and down. Pondered it softly as her eyebrows scrunched up. “Hmmm…. 5’4”?”
Luke could feel the shock, horror, and betrayal coursing through him. “I AM 5’8”!” Julie looked at him quizzically “Are you sure?”
Luke let out a groan of frustration as Reggie picked up the small bear shaped lump and winked at him. He grabbed Reggie’s elbow and dragged him along scanning the aisles for something that might even mildly resemble Julie.
He’d passed this bear three times. He still didn’t like it, didn’t even think it looked like Julie, yet something about it kept giving him pause. It was a pale lilac color and it might be the softest thing he’d ever touched. The purple was kind of nice, but he knew Julie was a more vibrant purple like the dress she’d worn on the Orpheum and while her eyes could melt him to the core, she had a strength that astounded him. The bear kind of felt like Julie lite. A shadow or figment of her.
There was something weird with its eyes too like it had winged eyeliner. He knew every now and again Julie wore her make-up like that, but it didn’t really seem to be her. Julie was at her Juliest when in mismatched pajamas and her fluffy dinosaur slippers, her hair flowing freely and a soft song singing from her lips. It was like she carried the warmth and the light with her and this bear just didn’t.
Yet this was the third time he was standing in front of this Anna? From Frozen? Bear and it was his best bet. Reluctantly he grabbed the blob of fabric and hoped along the way it could become more like her.
He and Reggie made their way over to where Alex and Julie were already sitting, waiting for the other to join them. He had to admit he wasn’t listening while Julie gave them some monologue. The bear just wasn’t sitting right with him and it took Reggie dragging him toward these red boxes to jar him from contemplation.
Luke glanced in to see all the little hearts and felt a smile lighting up his face. Identifying a heart for Julie, now that he could do. He smiled a little bit at Alex’s intense focus, as if finding the right heart was the same as defusing a bomb. He laughed at Reggie’s antics of digging through everything and moving hearts into different buckets, leaving not one unturned in his hunt. Every now and again Luke would let out a tease at the look on Alex’s face or be fake angry with Reggie when he scooped hearts on top of where Luke was looking.
This was really what he’d come for, this moment of pure joy with his family. Julie just kept shaking her head at them all. For a minute they were just three seventeen-year-old boys with their favorite girl building a bear.
It took him by surprise really, the flash of color. Soon though, he was digging with fervor trying to find the glimpse of deep royal purple he’d seen. After what felt like forever and a impending feeling of hopelessness he found it. Sitting at the bottom of the bin was a purple heart, almost exactly the color of Julie’s Orpheum dress. This, this was the one.
He cracked a smile at Reggie and waved it in his face as Reggie held up what had to be the most awkwardly looking heart he’d ever seen. Reg must have noted his look of confusion because he started to explain.
“I know it’s not the prettiest looking heart but look at all it’s gone through. It’s still surviving, it’s still functional, it’s still the biggest heart of anyone I know. This is the kind of heart that gives pieces of itself to mend others.” Reggie just keeps going borderline rambling as if he also doesn’t know where to stop until his voice drops almost to a whisper “This is a heart that fixes things and and and you fixed us.”
Luke gave Reggie the biggest grin as the warmth flew through him at his friend’s explanation. “It’s perfect Reg. Thank you.” Reggie’s thousand-watt smile was back as they all moved back towards the stuffing machine. He prompted Julie to do the magic, dragging him and Alex into the convincing, not that Julie needed it.
The wish stumped Luke briefly and he watched as Alex and Reggie seemed to do it with very little hesitation. Words and thoughts seemed to jumble in his mind before some started to align with startling clarity. They were lyrics? Either way he whisper sang them to the bear.
We say we're friends, we play pretend. You're more to me, we're everything Our voices rise and soar so high. We come to life when we're, In perfect harmony
By the time he finished, Alex had his new bear stuffed introducing him as William the Skater Bear and Reggie and Julie were whispering together while shooting him looks. Soon the caramel bear was growing and becoming real. Luke had to admit, despite the height issue, Reggie really had done a good job picking out the bear and as he screamed about a guitar for Lukas, Luke giggled and stepped up to the machine.
Julie raised an eyebrow at his choice and he grinned at her sheepishly and shrugged. Truthfully, he was a little nervous about it. What if he picked the wrong bear? What if it looked awful? Would she hate it? When he handed her the heart though, her eyes grew wide before dashing up to his. She squeezed it tight and watched as her face shifted to awe and a blush crept over her cheeks before she hurriedly finished the bear.
She handed the bear back to him and oddly enough Luke stared deeply into the bear’s eyes. A flicker of recognition passed through. That was Jules, through and through. He took one more glance at Julie, smiled, and called out “C’mon Jules time to accessorize!” He heard her giggle as he wandered over to the clothes section.
In the end, he managed to convince Julie to let him bring home two outfits for Jules. One was a sparkly purple fairy dress with a black leather jacket and a microphone to match, the other was a pair of pajamas with monster slippers. They’d rationalized it as needing a band outfit, but also a cuddlier one.
For a brief moment, he and Reggie switched bears so Luke could hold onto Lukas. Reggie had managed to find denim pants with a band tshirt and a beanie. Reggie swore up and down that when they got home they could cut the sleeves off the bear’s shirt, but Luke was enamored with the little bear and his soft guitar that hung by a band off his hand. He nodded absently, agreeing with whatever Reggie said before pulling Lukas close into a tight hug.
A little voice that sounded remarkably like Reggie whispered into Luke’s head.
You are Lukas. Luke may prefer hugging people to stuffies, but it’s your job to make sure that for whatever reason we can’t be there, Luke can hug you and know we’re hugging him back as tightly. He saved us all and now he’ll never be alone again.
He looked up at Reggie, tears starting to pool in his eyes, even as Reggie looked a little confused. He reached out and hugged him tight. Never letting go of Lukas. They stayed that way for a long time before pulling apart.
Alex had witnessed the whole thing and was pretty sure he knew exactly what caused the burst of emotion in Luke. He gave a small smile before taking the opportunity to rag on his brother. “So what do you think Luke? Care to put Lukas down for a minute.”
Luke shook his head vigorously “Nuh-uh. Not a chance.” There was something niggling at him though as he joked with his bandmates. He couldn’t quite place it though until Julie slipped Jules out of Reggie’s arms and into her arms. He froze then, his brain catching up and slamming into him.
What if Julie could hear the lyrics he sung to the bear as his wish?
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Keep it to Yourself - Frank Iero x Reader
Requested Summary: The last shows of warped tour are coming closer, and the band tries to convince Frank to act on his feelings for the reader Warnings: insecurities, angst, fluff Word count: 3 307 A/N: This was originally “just” a request, but I want to dedicate this to @mariawritesfanfic because it’s her birthday today! Everyone go over to her blog, check out her wonderful stories (she does Christmas/Winter themed stories for every day until Christmas!) and wish her a happy birthday!
“Oh man, I think I’m dying of thirst,” you mumbled, while you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand.
The sun burnt down mercilessly on you and the other few people who were working at the merchandise stand at Warped Tour. You lifted another box with MCR shirts on the table, and started piling the clothes out of the box, sorting the different shirt motives according to their sizes.
“Water?”
You turned around in surprise at the, by now, fairly familiar voice of a certain guitarist. Frank smiled at you as he held out a bottle of water.
“You are my savior,” you grinned, and took the bottle from the young man, who watched you contently as you satisfied your thirst with the icy cold beverage he had fetched you.
“Don’t you guys have any shade back here,” he wondered, furrowing his brows.
“Shade, good joke,” you laughed unamused, and handed him back the now half-empty bottle.
“Keep it,” he mumbled under his breath, and placed it on the table, making you smile.
“And to answer your question, no we don’t have any shade.”
“But you had some last week, didn’t you,” Frank asked confused, and hopped to sit on the table next to the box, which you continued pulling shirts out from.
“They said they lost the parasol,” Grace, your colleague and friend, explained over her shoulder.
“And they didn’t bother organizing a new one?”
Frank sounded disbelieving, a gesture that in itself already made you feel better.
“Apparently not, maybe we should be a tad bit more insistent on that point,” you shrugged.
“Do you want me to get you some sunscreen?”
You looked over at Frank who was still sitting on the table, watching you work.
“Nah, it’s fine,” you denied with a smile.
“In fifty years, when you got skin cancer, you’ll think differently about it,” Frank told you seriously, and got off the table, “I’m gonna get you some!”
“Don’t you have to go on in like… ten minutes,” you shouted after the guitarist, who had already started jogging away, but either he did not hear you, or he did not want to hear you.
Frank’s band mates in the meantime had watched the interaction between the two of you from the shadow of a tent that sold cold beverages. The area was not yet opened to the public, allowing them a few last quiet moments before the show.
“These fools,” Mikey shook his head, “they still don’t get their feelings aren’t one sided?”
Ray shook his head.
“I don’t think they even got to the point of understanding that they are in love,” he mumbled, taking a sip from his coke.
“We only got a couple of shows left,” Gerard reminded them, “do you think they’ll finally get together until then?”
“No.”
The answer came both from Ray and Mikey at the same time.
“So… do you guys think we should help them?”
Ray turned to look at Gerard.
“You mean we should set them up?”
“Let’s be honest here for a moment. Frank will only be sulking around for the next three years if he doesn’t get together with (y/n), and we’ll be the ones who’ll have to suffer. In our own interest we should do them the favour,” Gerard argued.
“You have a weird way of reasoning,” Mikey shook his head, “but I’m afraid you’re right.”
They grew quiet as Frank jogged past them again, this time with a tube of sunscreen in his hand. When you saw him you threw your hands in the air, and rolled your eyes at him, but laughed.
“Yep, we need to set them up,” even Ray eventually agreed, “They’ll never get this done on their own.”
“Fools.”
~*~
The following days were hectic and loud, and you hardly found time to calm down for a moment. There were only a handful of shows left. While you loved working for My Chemical Romance, and going on Warped Tour with them, you started feeling worn out. The long days under the burning sun were exhausting, and there was always someone who had instructions for you or wanted you to do something more than was your job. You helped where you could, since you liked the job, but you also really started looking forward to the moment you could sit down in peace.
The exhaustion which the physical work was causing you was undeniable, but at the same time your heart and mind were also tense.
Of course you had noticed pretty early into the tour that you liked Frank. He was pleasant to be around, he always looked out for you, was chaotic and sweet at the same time, and overall just exactly the kind of person you liked. Trying not to get yourself into any trouble, you had told yourself it was not anything important, and so you had ignored the way your heart started hammering in your chest, and the way you got all shaky every time he walked up to you. It felt like an invisible string was connecting the two of you, pulling you closer towards him, but then again he was a very attractive man, probably everyone who was into men felt that way about Frank.
If it had only stayed at that, everything would have been fine, but when there were only seven days of tour left, Gerard, Mikey and Ray started behaving weirdly. They always made jokes about how great of a boyfriend Frank would be, about how caring and sweet he was, about how the two of you would be such a cute couple.
These words confused you more than anything. Of course you knew they meant nothing; that the three men were just teasing Frank and you, but for the first time, you allowed yourself to imagine what being with Frank would be like.
And your stupid heart took that as the signal to break silently every time you merely thought about him. He was a rock star, thousands and thousands of people looked up to him, and felt the same tight feeling in their chest when they thought about him, and you were just one of them. You were not any different from them.
Had you told this to Frank, he would immediately have listed a thousand things he loved about you. The way you smiled so sweetly when he did something stupid, the way you rolled your eyes at him when he was being silly, how you ran your fingers through your hair when you were thinking… He adored the way you looked, your character, your smile, your jokes, and when you pretended to be mad with him. Everything about you was perfect to him, but he did not get aware of it until the second last show.
It was late already; the show MCR should play was the last one of the evening.
Backstage the four band members were joking around. Ray and Gerard were doing their vocal warm ups, and Frank had just finished fiddling around with his guitar, when he suddenly heard Mikey mention your name. Obviously Frank immediately listened up, trying to overhear his friends, but at the same time unable to fight the jealousy in his chest when he heard his band mates talk about how pretty and clever and sweet you were.
Had he really thought you were only sweet to him? Had he thought you would ever pay special attention to him with the other three around? It was well know he was the short, chaos-causing one. Why should you like him if there was someone around like Gee, with his pretty face and all his drawing skills, or Mikey, who was super funny once he warmed up to someone, or Ray who was so incredibly talented and skilled in everything he did? The answer was obviously that you would not like him, and that idea alone brought angry tears to his eyes.
It was Gerard who noticed the pained expression on the guitarist’s face first.
“Guys, shut up,” he warned, and nodded to their friend.
“Oh shit,” Ray swore and shook his head, quickly walking over to Frank, who was still too occupied with his own thoughts to notice that the conversation had been interrupted.
“We fucked up,” Mikey realised, and together with his brother he followed Ray.
“If you’re so much into them, then why don’t you fucking tell ‘em,” Frank was about to argue, making the others shake their heads. “they deserve to be happy, but instead you just make fun of them!”
“It’s not us who’s into them,” Ray tried to explain.
“We’re not making fun of them,” Mikey defended at the same time.
“We- listen Frankie, we just thought that with a bit of teasing, you would finally get your ass over to them and tell ‘em how you feel,” Gerard clarified.
“How I feel,” echoed Frank hollowly.
“Come on dude, you’ve been in love with them since the beginning of tour,” Ray reminded him, “don’t think we didn’t notice.”
“I’m not-“
“And I hate to say this, but time’s running out, man,” Gerard added, “There are two shows left, and then god knows when you get to see ‘em again. You really should pull your shit together, and talk to them.”
Mikey and Ray nodded approvingly.
“I’m not in love with (y/n),” Frank defended, and at the beginning of the sentence he was still convinced of his words, but by the end he already started doubting them.
“Yeah, yeah, great, keep telling yourself that,” Mikey shrugged unimpressed, “But the truth is that they definitely caught your interest, you caught theirs, and you should at least try to ask them out or something.”
“Because if you don’t, you’ll be in a mood for years, and only write songs about broken-heartedness or something, and we’re the ones who’ll have to deal with this, so do us the favour.”
Frank was about to disagree with Gerard, but then he remembered his notebook, which currently had started filling with half-finished love songs, both happy and sad.
Sighing in defeat Frank hung his head. He knew the others were right, and it was terribly annoying having to admit it, but he was no coward, at least not when it came to his friends.
“So what do you suggest I do,” he gave in, pleadingly looking into his band mates’ faces.
“Okay, so listen here-”
~*~
You already felt a bit nostalgic, and it was only the second last show, as you walked up to the side of the stage, spying out from behind one of the light consoles.
Since the show was so late in the evening, and you had worked all day, someone else had taken over the merch, giving you the freedom to do whatever you wanted. And in all the time you had only seen two complete shows, so that was what you decided to treat yourself with. Sitting down on the floor, making sure not to be in anybody’s way, you looked out over the stage.
Ray was head banging to the beat, Mikey stood close to the centre, bopping his head to the music as well. Gerard was skipping over the stage, using the instrumental bridge to run over to Ray, who grinned at him.
And then there was Frank. He was going crazy as always, lying on his back, playing his guitar flawlessly. A second later he jumped up and onto one of the monitors, his sweaty hair falling into his forehead, while he tried to see past the blinding lights into the audience.
When he turned around to jump off the speaker again, he saw you sitting on the floor at the side of the stage, stopping when his eyes met yours. He seemed to stand frozen for a second, before he shot you a grin, which almost seemed shy, considering how bolt he usually was, and then continued the show.
From that moment on, you were unable to tear your eyes away from him. Ignoring the stinging pain in your chest, you watched him jump around, and laugh, and roll over the stage, almost head-butting Ray at one point, and chasing Mikey, who always made sure to keep a safe distance to the personification of havoc.
Sometimes Frank looked over to you, every time smiling brighter than the lights that were illuminating the stage, but when the last song for the night kicked off, his smiles started to lose their power, and instead the glances he shot you were tainted with concern and worry. By the time the audience broke into applause after the song, his face was full of what almost looked like fear, making you worry about what was on his mind.
The band was waving and walking off, away from you, going off stage at the opposite side from where you were getting up from the floor, shooting one of the techies a smile. Gerard noticed that Frank was following them, but stopped him.
“Go over and talk to them,” the singer encouraged, “Now’s your moment!”
Frank hesitated, but when Gerard gently shoved him into your direction, he obeyed, and jogged over to you.
“Are you alright?”
Concerned you took a few steps towards Frank, who you had noticed walking over to you. He was sweaty, his hair and his shirt sticking to his skin, a frown on his face, and the guitar swung to his back.
Without answering, he grabbed your wrist, and dragged you further away from the edge of the stage, into a little corner where nobody could see you.
“Frank, hey,” by now you were really worried about him. He looked pale and nervous, a state you had never seen the cheerful man in. “What’s going on?”
The corner Frank had dragged you in was so tiny that your back was already bumping into one of the big boxes in which usually the speakers were transported. When he took a step closer to you, you had nowhere to go. Not that you really wanted to, but he was behaving weirdly, and as close as you were standing now, you could feel the heat radiating off his body.
His eyes were fixed on the floor, darting around nervously.
Gently you reached your hand to his chin, and lifted his head so he was looking at you. His hazel eyes were pleadingly staring into yours, as if he was asking you to understand something he did not want to phrase. And before you even knew what happened, he had closed the short distance between your faces and kissed you passionately, desperately even, pushing you back so you were pinned against the box. Surprised and confused you returned the kiss, your body reacting before your mind had even started to comprehend what was going on. While your thoughts still tried to scramble to their feet, your heart was beating in your throat, and you wrapped your arms around Frank’s neck, pulling him closer to you, leaning into his touch as he placed his hands at your waist to pull you against him, but making sure your back was still pressing against the obstacle behind you, keeping you in place.
In the end you had no way of telling for how long Frank and you had been kissing, hidden away from prying eyes. You just knew that when you broke the kiss eventually, you were terribly out of breath, and your cheeks were burning hot red. Frank’s face was as flushed as yours, and it was not due to a lack of sunscreen during the day, and his sweaty shirt had started to dry.
You swallowed hard, your arms still wrapped around his neck, and your forehead pressed against his. In irregular patterns his breath fanned over your cheek, making you want to kiss him all over again, but you were too out of breath, and your muscles seemed to have gone into stand-by-mode from all the slight shivers and the excitement Frank had caused you.
“What was that,” you asked, still out of breath, your eyes closed. Your voice was shaky and higher than usual, but you did not find it in you to care about such details right now.
“Want me to repeat it,” Frank asked, and you could hear the smirk on his lips.
“Give me a moment,” you laughed, pulling away slightly and immediately leaning your forehead against Frank’s shoulder, the rigid leather strap of his guitar pressing against your skin.
Frank chuckled, a sound you would never get enough of, and slowly let go of your waist before wrapping his arms around your back. Indeed there seemed to have passed some time since his shirt was cool and almost dry now.
“So… basically I have fallen in love with you, and the guys said I should act on it, so we don���t have to publish an album filled with all the songs I wrote about you,” Frank whispered against your ear, making you giggle.
Lifting your head back up, you took a good look at his face. There were still a couple of strands of his black hair sticking to his forehead, his pupils were blown wide, leaving only a small rim of the hazel colour to see. A pink blush was dusted over his cheeks, and some very faint freckles spread over his nose. A soft smile was playing around his lips, and slowly he lifted a hand to your face, brushing a strand of your own hair out of your vision.
Quickly you leant in again, his words still echoing in your mind, and pressed your lips against his once more, shorter, sweeter this time, until Frank was full on grinning.
“Frank?” The voice of one of the techies eventually drew you back into reality. “Frank! Where are you! There is a press team who want to do a quick interview with the band!”
Frank’s groaning was less a sound than a deep vibration against your body, and exhausted he dropped his head against your shoulder, making you giggle.
“Do they really need me,” he mumbled, and you were sure he was rolling his eyes.
“Frank! I know you’re back here! We’ve searched everywhere else already!”
“Apparently they do,” you smiled, and ran one of your hands through his hair. “Take it as a compliment.”
Frank groaned again, and untangled himself from you, but making sure to run his fingers down your arm, and intertwine them with yours.
“Fine,” he shouted, still looking at you, “I’m here! I give up!”
Holding your hand, he stepped out of the corner that had hidden you so perfectly.
“Hell yeah, each one of the guys owes me five bucks,” the techie laughed, already turning his back to Frank and you, leading the way.
“For what,” Frank asked curious.
“They said you wouldn’t have the guts to confront (y/n),” techie explained, a shit eating grin on his face.
Frank turned to you.
“They bid on us,” he deadpanned, making you giggle.
“Actually I’m not surprised; they did make an effort these past days to point out how much of a catch you’d be.”
“I hate them.”
“Tell that to the press, that sure would make for some headlines,” you laughed, causing Frank to giggle too.
“Guess so!”
When you reached the trailer in which the rest of the band and a camera team was waiting, even at this late hour, Frank quickly leant down to kiss your hair, before the techie threw open the door.
“Oh fucking finally,” Ray cheered, when he saw you and Frank standing outside.
“Was about time,” Gerard laughed, and Mikey nodded along, grinning brightly.
“Yeah, yeah, keep it to yourself,” Frank muttered, but was unable to hide his smile, as he pulled you into the bus with him, your fingers still entangled with his.
~*~*~*~
Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, please let me know):
General: @justawriterinprogress @robinruns @jayloverthe3rd @lookalivefrosty @butterfly-writes @angelevansfalls @rene-royale
MCR: @deadlovers
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