#1) putting two characters designs together to make a brand new guy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iwadori · 3 years

Note

hello! I love your works so much! Can I request an angst to comfort scenario for #21 on your prompt list?

“It’s my fault for trusting you”

Feel free to use whichever character(s) you like!!

When the haikyu boys neglect you for another girl PT 3

Part One Part Two Part Three Part four Part Five

Word Count: 2.7K

Genre: angst,fluff

masterlist

Akaashi

You and Akaashi were beautiful people

Probably the most attractive pair of young adults that anyone can find

You were both top tier models in the industry

You always had a little rivalry between you but you always promised each other to never let it affect your ‘relationship’

“Beautiful darling, your beautiful” praised your photographer as you finished your shoot giving you air kisses on your cheeks. You thanked him and the rest of the staff and entered your dressing room sighing.

“Rough day?” Asked a voice, startling you a bit. You looked up to see your boyfriend, Akaashi Keiji sitting in the corner of your dressing room on a love seat.

“Gosh Keiji you scared me” clutching your chest dramatically “But yes, the day has been tiring Fabio has really been overworking me lately” you complained. Akaashi walks towards you and gave you a peck on the cheek “Aww poor baby” he cooed mockingly, “but don’t worry ‘bout it Y/N your sucess will be all be worth it eventually” he says making you smile.

“and besides, you’ve got a shoot with me soon anyways” he winks, making you chuckle. You finished removing your make-up as Akaashi tells you about his shoot today and Bokuto’s (your fellow model friend) antics.

You and Akaashi first laid eyes on eachother when you were both up and coming models, you both are under the same company. At first, both of your agents decided to make you spend time with each other to push the narrative of you being a couple anyways. However, since you and Akaashi had great natural chemistry it made your relationship great and made for a great photo too.

As much as the public loved your relationship and the saucy photos you tend to make together, they also thrived of the slight rivalry you guys had together or the times when you guys bother shot with other people (since it was easy for a fan to make a new ship off of two people literally standing next to each other.)

You spent the next day having what you and Akaashi called a ‘rest day,’ you both specifically clear your schedules for every 2nd and 4th saturday of each month to not do any work-related for the day and just bask in each other’s companies (as you were both busy and barely got enough time to see one another.)

You watched multiple movies, made your own homemade cookies and dinner, had pillow fights, built forts. You both were having so much fun, until you both got a call...Just then, the vibe changed you went from your free-spirited fun selfs back into work mode.

Your agent told you that two brands *Insert big fashion designer brand here* and *Insert another big fashion designer brand here* were having some form of standoff. To be honest, you didn’t really care about the context of the shoot(s) in this case, as your agents call ruined your day. They wanted you and Tsukishima Kei, to do some competing shoots and promotional videos for their brand against the other designer.

After getting all your information from your agent, you go back into the living and see Akaashi sitting down thinking deeply about something. “What was your call about?” you inquire sitting down next to him.

“Oh just some silly designer brand competition thing.” he mindlessly replies, still thinking deeply.

“Yeah same. So what’s got you thinking all deeply then?” you ask

“My fellow model is going to be Kiyoko Shimuzu” he sighed, making you blink repeatedly before immediately saying “You can’t do the shoot”

Kiyoko Shimuzu was japans beauty. Everybody loved her, she’s been a model since she was a child everyone wanting a grasp on her looks. The guys wanted her, the girls wanted to be here. Kiyoko Shimuzu was a force to be reckon with.

The real problem at hand wasn’t her stunning looks, popularity and fame. It was her connection with Akaashi. Before Akaashi went big and met you, he was Kiyoko’s boyfriend (well ex-boyfriend now) and they broke up because of long-distance or something like that.

However, to you, Kiyoko’s feelings for your boyfriend have never went away. Whenever you guys bumped into each other at red carpet events or runway shows, she always seemed to linger a bit too long around your boyfriend, which definitely wasn’t to your liking.

Akaashi lifted up his head from inside his palms and looked at you as if you had grown another head. “What do you mean, ‘I can’t do the shoot’” he asked in disbelief

“I mean, you can’t do the shoot” you reiterated not understanding why he didn’t understand.

Akaashi sighs before putting his face back in his hands to think, “Well I know you got to the shoot aswell Y/N who’s yours with.”

“Tsukki” You said nonchalantly say as if it was nothing, making Akaashi look at you again as if you were fully crazy before he had a chance to speak you cut him off saying “Don’t even start Akaashi.”

You and Tsukishima Kei, have best friends since you were kids. You weren’t romantic in any way shape or form, well at least you weren’t. Akaashi always claimed that that Tsukishima was in love with you, that you and Tsukishima were the perfect example of every ‘childhood friends-lovers trope’ ever, which to you wasn’t true. Everything between you and Tsukishima was and still is completely platonic which you can’t say the same for Akaashi and Kiyoko.

“You’re not doing the shoot” he says firmly as if he was your father.

“Oh so you can do your shoot with your literally EX GIRLFRIEND, but I can’t do mine with my best friend... yeah make sense” you say standing up, astounded.

“Y/N chill, If you’re so adamant about me not doing it with Shi- Kiyoko, then I wont” he says pulling your arm down making you land on him “and you better not do it with ‘Tsukki’” he mocked.

“Okay so none of us are doing the shoots?” you ask looking up at him

“Yup” he says

“Pinky promise,” you joked sticking out your pinky in his face.

“Pinky promise” he agreed hooking his finger around yours.

For the next month it seemed you were booked busy, you barely got to see your boyfriend as his agent had him running around all of Japan and even had him booked in some places in Europe for this month. Of course, you missed him, but you understand how busy it can be doing your line of work. You’ve been quite busy too, doing the usual shoots and runways.

Although he was busy, Akaashi basically went radio silent on you. You still expected him to reply to some of your messages or at least call once or twice when he had the chance, since he must have 10 minutes of break time and that's the bare minimum.

It’s been two weeks since you last saw Akaashi (and that was on your saturday rest day) and you were expecting him to come over today so you could have another. Since of course, Saturday ‘rest days’ were basically a tradition for you and Akaashi before you even started dating.

You had no text from Akaashi explaining his lateness/absense, so you just figured he wasn’t coming putting a damper on your day. You spent the day lounging around and shoving your face with your favourite snacks and food.

You get a text from Tsukishima which read:

Tsukishima: 1 Image Attached

Tsukishima: Looks whose boyfriend stumbled on set...

You didn’t respond as you were shocked at the sight you saw, the image was a picture of Akaashi and Kiyoko on set doing shots for the *insert the other rich designer brand* the shoot that you both agreed you wouldn’t do, which was also a LINGERE brand.

You felt betrayed, you both agreed to not do the shoot and it’s not like you did do yours. You made sure to turn it down the day you made your agreement. And he skipped on your traditional saturday ‘rest day’ without even giving you any word of him not planning on arriving.

You didn’t know what to do, do you confront him about it? Or do you wait for him to approach you? Since he would plan on telling you about this right? You eventually messaged Tsukishima a ‘thanks’ and you decided how you were going to handle the situation. Pop up on Akaashi and Kiyoko at the photoshoot.

You knew where it was at, since you had the address already from when your agent first offered you the idea. You drove to the place in a breakneck speed, strutting in there like a woman on a mission (which you technically were.) You decided to wait in Akaashi’s dressing room, not wanting to cause a scene at the shoot which would be bad for yours, Akaashi’s and Kiyoko’s image and would be a waste of the time of the staff and photographer there.

Akaashi finally finished the shoot and entered his room with a sigh not realising that you were sitting in the corner of his room. “Did you have a rough time?” you ask mockingly making him jump and his eyes widen as you were the last person he expected to be there. “Why so shocked, you weren’t expecting me?” you still keep the same mocking tone in your speech.

“Y/N I-” He started

“Y/N what?” You interrupted “Y/N I’m sorry for basically ghosting you for a month? I'm sorry for doing a shoot with someone who I know is still in love with me? I’m sorry for lying to you? I’m sorry for skipping out on our rest day with no explanation on where I am?” you stare at him as he stares back speechless.

“Oh, am I missing something?” you continue “Oh yes ‘Y/n I’m sorry for doing the shoot that we both agreed that we weren’t doing’” you sit down and wait for him to reply.

Akaashi puts his head down in shame, not really knowing what to say. Because of his silence, you roll your eyes and get up fed up with his lack of explanation. Before you fully leave Akaashi blocks your way with slight tears in his eyes “I had no other choice Y/N, I had to do all those shoots and travel other places with Kiyoko because sh-”

“Wait, that’s where you were?” you shout “Gallivanting around the country with HER!” you extend your arm pointing outside the door before you turn trying to leave again.

“N-No No Y/N you’ve got to listen to me” he said putting your hands on my shoulder “She has something, on me and I-I couldn’t I can’t get out of it. It’s deeper than just a simple shoot.” You were confused but you were so upset you just didn’t want to hear it so instead of listening to your boyfriend you decided to say “you’re so full of shit Akaashi” making him gasp at your coldness and the use of his last name. “ but hey I guess thats my fault for trusting you”

You finally left the room and went to go get a breather for a second with tears sparking in your eyes. You leaned against the wall and whispered “fuck” frustrated with the whole situation. Making you jump, Tsukishima said “you should go talk to him you know.”

“What do you know Tsukki” he cringed at the nickname

“I know more than you Y/N, just go talk to him.” he said making you squint your eyes at him wondering what information he held.

When you walked back to Akaashi’s dressing room practicing an apology in your head. But you paused your arrival hearing Akaashi talking to the one and only, Kiyoko Shimuzu in his room.

“Let’s face it Akaashi, now that I’ve got this sex tape of us, I basically own you.” she said to him making your eyes widen.

You decided the smartest thing to do was to pull out your phone and record as much as the conversation as you possibly could. Because you could already tell Akaashi was in a bind.

“The next thing I want you to do is...” she continued acting as if she was thinking “break it with Y/N!”

“No certainly not Kiyoko, you’re going too far.” he said making you smile internally that he still defended your relationship. “Me and Y/N are definitely NOT breaking up.”

“Akaashi are you forgetting that I have something over you.” she pulls out her phone and she plays a video, which you can only assume is the sex tape. You can hear a bunch of moans and groans which made your stomache ache.

Tired of hearing this, you burst into the room and say “What the fuck are you doing Kiyoko”

“Oh Y/N how lovely for you to join us...” she said with a smile, “I was just discussing with your ‘boyfriend’ plans for our next shoots.”

“I always knew you were a bitch.” you say shocking your head at her.

“What do you mean Y/N?” she says with a fake smile, not knowing that you were listening in on your conversation “Actually Akaashi was telling me something he had to tell you... isn’t that right Akaashi.” you both looked over at him and he was scared and speechless.

“Oh you mean how you’ve been blackmailing him for the past two weeks...” you accuse

“You have no proof of that.” She taunted

“Oh do I..” you rebuttal then pressing play on the recording you just took watching as both Kiyoko and Akaashi look shocked. Kiyoko scurries out the room knowing she’s been caught leaving you with a triumphant smile.

You sit down, gesturing Akaashi to sit next to you. “Akaashi, I’m so sorry for not listening to you earlier I felt so betrayed thinking that you went agaisnt out agreement, but I guess I was just being a self-obsessed bitch” you say with you now looking down in shame.

“Y/N” he says with you still not meeting his eye “Y/N look at me” he lifted your chin up so you met his eye “It’s fine, It’s completely fine you didn’t know of course you didn’t know, how would you know of sex tape I unknowingly did back when I was 16!” he exclaims “Its fine, we’re good” he pulls you into a hug and kisses you on the forehead.

After you both calm down, Akaashi explains how Kiyoko started to blackmail him and how the agency loved the idea of them two being together (not the blackmailing) as it created a jealousy storyline between you and her and how every time they met she kept proposing ridiculous demands.

“Also, how did you know I ended doing the shoot?” he asks

“Oh a little bird told me” you tease

“You mean a 6ft2 bird with blonde hair and a shit personality.” he retorts making you laugh

“Heyy don’t be so mean, if it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t of came to save the day.”

“True, I’d give him that.”

Eventually, you and Akaashi go to your agency and present all your evidence and claims that Kiyoko was blackmailing Akaashi. Although they were upset, that Akaashi did partake in a sex tape they knew that they’d be an even bigger scandal if you presented your news that Japans sweetheart Kiyoko Shimuzu was blackmailing Akaashi Keiji. So the agency thought it was in everyones best interest if they got Kiyoko to sign an NDA saying that she will never bring forth or share the Sex Tape to anyone and she’ll agree to be dropped from the agency.

Your life was great now, with Kiyoko off your back and Akaashi being back to his usual self you couldn’t wish for anything more. You ended up doing the shoot persuading the design brand person (whatever the name for it is) to agree to let you do the shoot together instead of with other people. Both brands let you, because who wouldn’t want Akaashi Keiji and L/N Y/N to do a shoot together?

AUTHORS NOTE: this is the longest work ive written for a single character and i am TIRED lol..I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed my other works so I hope you enjoy this one.. to be honest I think with my works I start off strong and end shitly :// However I wanted to do something different today by making them models instead of students so I hope you like it. Now im off to read some fanfic so you guys have a good day!! <3

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyu #akaashi scenarios #akaashi x y/n #akaashi headcanons #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi angst #akaashi fluff #signedwithane😌

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accio-victuuri · 3 years

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BoXiao : Endorsement CPNs

Just listing a few of my favorites, where we clowned so hard with what appears to be bxg biased signs from brands. Mostly 2020-2021. This was supposed to be a simple post but it got a little bit out of hand. So. Here you go. Enjoy!

Note: If you don’t like CPN posts, just scroll along. If you don’t like BJYX — this is not for you. don’t hurt yourself and skip this post.

1. RoseOnly - I will not add the RoseOnly x Peace Elite collaboration here anymore cause most of the people reading this should be familiar. A little bit of my thoughts on that are here.

Now let’s move on to other clownery, cause when I said we did see some 👀 before, I meant it.

• GG’s campaign with them where he showcased a bunny with rainbow colored flowers. They could be showcasing all the kind of flowers they have or LGBT friendly advertising. After all, All love is love. 🌈

• For Roseonly’s 8th anniversary, GG had a campaign and VCR w/ them and that big 8 flower. 8 means bo. It’s truly used for the anniversary but of course we CPN cause we are clowns.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwGnDR4zspI

• During Web’s promo for rules of my world and when his teaser photos came out— RoseOnly released a photo of a black rose ( same color as Web’s clothes in the teaser ) with the caption:

You’re the coolest guy in my heart.

• When they were doing a teaser for their new endorser, some people were pointing out that the silhouette looks like Bobo. lol. Twins!

• All the references to the Lonely Planet and Little Prince for this promotion. We all know that they both love LP and whether this is CPN or a personal preference— we’re claiming it!

• The green rose they once advertised with the caption I ONLY LOVE YOU. and with the green rose symbolizing innocence, simplicity and forever young. Green and those keywords, who do you remember?

• In 2019, they did a selling bundle with Shu Uemura which was a brand Web was endorsing at that time.

• In a live, the color green and red rose were together — GG and Web colors.

• An Ad in their online store where the display is the Leo rose which is Bobo’s zodiac sign. and GG is holding Libra. Leo x Libra. And with the caption below for their advertisement. We know Web is the Leo of all Leos but it’s still 👀

The proud Leo has a child-like arrogant temper. Some people think they are not easy to get along with, but they don’t know that they just have not entered their hearts. Actually, Leo’s tenderness is only for the right person.

Some other thing that I will add here for reference but I don’t necessarily believe. Link from weibo.

• When GG was announced as their brand spokesperson and Web gave a clue in his post. Also GG making 3 different posts and kadian combinations.

I’m adding in this collab they had with Eleme, the same time Web was endorsing the brand.

I’m sure I missed a couple more from RoseOnly but that just depends on how clear your BXG glasses are. To me the most important is their Lonely Planet / Star campaign with GG last year.

2. Shu Uemura - This is one of the OG brands that Web endorses and who loves him very much. They signed him when he was not yet a big star and flew him to different countries. They treat him very well. 🤍

• The most recent one is from their Ad with Bobo and a red ribbon which made us all think of WWX. I can understand from an Ad perspective that it’s perfect to pair up with a red lipstick — but our brains are wired to CPN. Soooo. And this is not their first offense with stuff like this.

• This Ad featuring Bobo : - "博"君一笑 BJYX.

• For the promotion photos of this eyeshadow palette, the colors and look is similar to GG’s painting for the Guangdian album cover. Yes. This was done some time after the song was released.

• This one is more of a coincidence. Years apart, both on the same day, they posted about a collaboration with One piece. It’s their favorite Anime. GG as Luffy & Web as Roronoa Zoro.

3. Qeelin - will be very lazy with this one and copy/paste from my jewelry post. Take note that this Bobo design is not new and had always been a classic from Qeelin.

4. Kai Xiao Zao - Ah! KXZ! The brand that loves GG the most. So what signs did they give?

• Their recent new product is wontons. Who do we know that likes wontons? It reminded BXGs of the unofficial BTS when Web was nagging GG to eat Wontons.

• They used a well known BXG idiom:

"你是夏日限定, 也是来日方长"

5. Chunzhen - Endorsed by Bobo, and this is under Mengniu. It caused some drama— cause GG & Web are technically promoting the same company. but like, there are so many other c-ent artists endorsing this brand.

• They posted for this year’s Qixi, stating in the Caption that Bobo is able to balance love and work. Really? How did they know? And they had made a character called XIAO ZHEN for qixi ( a cartoon girl with blue hair ).

• Zhenguoli ( endorsed by GG ) and Chunzhen drinks which are under the same company posted graphics of the two drinks together. 👀

• Also since it’s both under the same umbrella company, and both yogurt drinks— you can see their boxes together in shops.

6. Stride - In Bobo’s box set initial release, 3 flavors were included and one of them is passionfruit or bai xiang guo ( bxg ). Of course, bxgs bought it because we were represented. ✌🏼

Also in a message, the brand acknowledged BXGs but later had to delete it because of well— you know who.

Dear Moto/Passion Fruit fans,

Thank you for your support to Hyunmai's spokesperson~. The gift box endorsed by Yibo is temporarily sold out, it is recommended You first collect and purchase, if it is sold later.

Please buy it as soon as possible~

7. Swarovski - endorsed by Web 🤍

• They had turtle charms and bracelets, which endeared them to BXGs.

• They had a bracelet where you can put charms and in their Ad, it spells YIBO. of course. However a BXG noticed that on their recommended letters to add next, the letters are XZ + heart with a dot.

• Last year’s promotion of a lock necklace— Web changed his Weibo header. ‘Lock love, lock you.’

• His May 2020 Mother’s day promotion video that includes a confession (?). I know this is far off but the line used:

“ I love you, want you to see. I am Wang Yibo, this is my unique confession" is so similar to GG’s Bazaar confession.

youtube

8. Budweiser -- What we basically CPN about them is that they are an LGBT friendly brand and it’s always a plus when our boys endorse those kind of companies.

• Here you can find the CPN on the can that GG supposedly created with them.

• Their ad about ALL LOVE IS LOVE.•

An earlier Ad that had two male leads. and another one recently released with same sex couple. 🌈

Also they did a collab with G-shock which is a brand that Web endorses.

9. Man Han Feast Noodles

• The most recent one is GG playing the Guqin ala LWJ and looking out the window to see the moon ( again ala LWJ ). Best part is GG looking like he would burst out laughing and they kept in the Ad.

• In their Mother’s Day post one line says “if you love someone you’ll always encourage them to eat more”. Sounds like a familiar gesture right? Who do we know nags each other to eat?

10. Zenith Do I even have to explain this?

• GG chose a rainbow watch from Zenith collection for Qixi Festival. 🌈

11. Mengniu - Oh well, just last week they had to clarify as an Ad from them was seen with the words: "并肩于雪山之巅" = BJYXSZD. (Side by Side at the snowy mountain top)

12. Anta/ Li-ning - I’m adding it here cause the store owners in this video brought out GG/Web standees together 😂 Context is, there was a BJYX gathering going on so they took that out cause they knew the attendees loved them.

Plus this shopping app that put them together.

I’m capping this post here and will update this sometime in the future. However the ones I added here stood out to me or I experienced when it came out. I wanted to add Luckin Tea / Lays / Olay but that will be for another time.

As with all the CPN, feel free to not believe any of these and just take it as a coincidence. Or people clowning and reading into things more than they should. lol. Whether these are intentional or not, BXGs are always there to support the boys whenever they can. 🙏🏼

#bjyx #yizhan #cpn post

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kuiinncedes · 3 years

Text

relight that spark

jatp au - chapter 1 - part 2/15? - 9,385 words

the prologue/part 1 (tumblr link) if you missed it!! (ao3 link) :D

so obviously this is pretty slowly updating already and it probably willll get worse 🤪 i might post the next part in like a week tho, it's not a full "episode" chapter and i already have it fully written and i'm pretty happy with it 😗✌️

this chapter is pretty long and i apologize for that bc i know i get annoyed when i have to stop in the middle of a long chapter and then my phone like loses my spot or whatever lakdshgjfs but idk how else to do it so .. just have my apology lol sorryyy <3 the next "episode" chapter is looking to be longer tho sdlkhglsj

LASTLY BUT NOT LEASTLY A HUGE MASSIVE FUCKING THANK YOU TO MEG @neversatisfiedwithlife FOR BETA READING THIS FOR MEEEE AND BEING SO SUPPORTIVE AND WONDERFUL LOVE YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SM 💞💖💓💗💕

chapter title and lyrics in this part from "wake up" from the julie and the phantoms soundtrack (whichhh if you haven't heard it... you should listen to it after reading maybe 👀)

plot and a lot of the dialogue from julie and the phantoms so like credit to all those creators and writers 🤪

warnings for this chapter: grief, mentioned character death (regarding kurt's mom)

read below the cut or here on ao3!! <3

2020

There’s a deep-seated weight of dread in Kurt’s stomach that he’s unable to ignore for the entire morning.

His last chance at the music program -- he needs to play again today, for the first time in over a year, or he’s done.

It’s all he can think about all day. He makes it through his first few classes, somehow, walking through the halls almost mindlessly, thoughts far away and only worrying about what he’s going to do, barely paying attention to who he’s almost running into, because he doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

It almost feels like last year again, when school started and everyone knew and everyone was staring at him in the hallways, even though he knows that they’re not right now and he knows most of these people couldn’t care less about him not being able to play at this point, but in his head it feels like they all know, like they’re all waiting, waiting and watching for him to play again and sing again.

He has been, too, for over a year.

He stops at his locker to wait for Mercedes before going to class.

“We’re gonna get tattoos together,” comes her familiar voice out of nowhere.

Involuntarily, Kurt smiles a little, turning to Mercedes. “Umm…?”

She shrugs and smiles back at him. “You know, when we’re adults and out in New York together or something. Just -- you know, at some point.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow, silently saying, where the hell did this come from. Mercedes raises both of hers as if to say, answer the question. “Just curious,” she adds out loud. “Could start planning them now.”

He chuckles. “Of course. I’ll get all the matching tattoos with you.”

Grins and silent agreement pass between them and they both turn toward the lockers, a welcome break in the slowest part of the day, the voices and noises of other students filling the air.

“I know you don’t want me to ask, but…” Mercedes starts slowly after a moment, and Kurt nods his head in acknowledgement; he knows what she’s going to say. “Do you know what you’re going to do today?”

He puts some books in his backpack, mainly for something to do. “I’ll know in the moment,” he says, somewhat truthfully. He could just say what he thinks will happen, which is nothing. But Mercedes can see right through him anyway, so might as well stay somewhat positive until it happens. Or rather, doesn’t happen.

Mercedes sighs a little. “Mrs. Harrison said today is your last chance,” she tries, leaning on her side against the lockers.

“I know, I was there,” Kurt says lightly, letting his eyes scan the contents of his locker a tenth time. Mercedes reaches over and squeezes his hand lightly. Her eyes tell him that she’ll stop talking about it for now, and he squeezes back gratefully.

The conversation with Mercedes has really helped, though; it always does. If he’s going to spectacularly embarrass himself in front of his music class, and probably for the last time, at least he’ll have Mercedes there.

She sees it in his smile, and she sends it back. You always will, is her silent whisper.

A sharp, cheery voice pierces the air and makes them both turn their heads, and the uplifted mood from the conversation with Mercedes disappears when Kurt sees none other than Quinn Fabray, in her Cheerios! uniform, complete with a tight ponytail and perfect smile as she hands out what appears to be flyers to passing students, who are immediately won over by her status, closeness, sweetness. Finn Hudson lingers behind her with his guitar case and his own stack of flyers that he’s not handing out nearly as enthusiastically.

“Spirit rally Friday!” Quinn’s saying as she all but shoves another flyer into the face of a nervous freshman who takes it and scurries away, doing a double-take once they pass her. “Come see the Cheerios! do their new routine, and my group, the Unholy Trinity, perform our brand new original song!”

“What’s she handing out?” Kurt whispers to Mercedes. A corner of his lip quirks up despite the general unpleasantness of seeing Quinn.

“Desperation?” she answers with a small smirk. When Kurt turns back, Quinn is in front of him. He holds back a grimace at her fake smile and cheeriness.

“Hey, guys!” she chirps, as if they’re just any two other students at this school. “Here you go, my group’s performing at the spirit assembly on Friday!”

Kurt flinches back a little as a flyer appears much too close to his face and he takes it instinctively, holding it lightly in his fingertips. It truly looks like something Quinn designed -- perfectly professional, impressive, eye-catching -- and he can’t say it looks bad, as much as he might want to. He eyes Quinn over the top of the flyer.

“I’m sure you guys have nothing better to do,” Quinn continues, that smile still on her face, and there are the claws, Kurt thinks as he resists the urge to rip up the flyer right in front of her.

“Oh, my gosh, Quinn, thank you!” Mercedes says in an exaggeratedly sweet voice, clearly -- or at least clearly to Kurt, and likely Quinn as well -- imitating the specific tone of voice that Quinn takes, and Kurt stifles a laugh.

“Oh my gosh, Cedes, don’t bother coming!” Quinn says with a wide smile, turning away with a whip of her ponytail to continue pushing her flyers.

Kurt looks back at Mercedes, mumbling, “She did not just call you Cedes,” while Mercedes crumples up the flyer in her hands.

“Well, she did,” Mercedes says. Kurt can see the anger behind her eyes and he raises a concerned eyebrow. “I’m fine. She just… you know.” She dismisses his silent question.

“Yeah.” He loops his arm through Mercedes’ and they head down the hallway, almost running into Finn not three steps from Kurt’s locker.

“Oh, hey, sorry guys!” he says with a sheepish but genuine smile that contains all the warmth missing from Quinn’s. “Did you -- I guess Quinn already got -- ”

“Yep, she got to us,” Cedes says quickly, steering Kurt around Finn. “Thanks, Finn, bye!”

“Please tell me you are over him,” Mercedes says when they’re in a quieter area at the end of the row of lockers. Kurt realizes he’s staring and quickly looks away.

“Yeah, I am.” Mercedes looks at him skeptically and he insists, “I am, promise! You just… don’t find a nice jock like him around here that much.”

She nods, satisfied, and raises her eyebrows meaningfully. “You know they’re going to get married and have a bunch of demon babies.”

Kurt’s jaw drops open slightly and he laughs. “You can’t say Finn isn’t a sweetheart.”

“Only one of them has to be a demon to make a demon baby,” Mercedes says matter-of-factly.

“What… it’s a dominant gene?”

“Of course.” Mercedes turns back toward Quinn and raises her voice. “Demon!”

The two of them push against the wall, hiding behind the end of the lockers, when Quinn snaps her gaze back. Kurt can’t hold his laughs in this time, and he feels a little bad about it, but… considering what Quinn’s done to them, he can let himself and Cedes get away with it.

“There’s that smile,” Mercedes says gently as they gather themselves. “Now let’s go prove everybody wrong.” She pulls him toward the music room and slowly but surely, the sickening feeling in his stomach returns. He sits down next to Mercedes and just breathes. She squeezes his hand again.

Mrs. Harrison starts class soon after they arrive, getting into the last of the progress performances which are both a chance for the students to show off to their classmates, and also a checkpoint for participation in the music program, which is the part Kurt’s concerned about.

He barely hears as Finn finishes his drum solo and everyone claps and then Mrs. Harrison is calling his name and he’s standing and walking to the piano and oh god.

“Take your time,” Mrs. Harrison says gently.

That’s all he’s been doing for almost a year, just taking his time, but nothing has come of it. He sits down slowly, opening his music in front of him but it’s like his eyes don’t see the notes and just gloss over the page. He looks down at the keys, sets his fingers in place reluctantly.

It’s been so long that the keys almost feel foreign under his fingers when they once were the most familiar thing in the world. It’s been so long that he barely remembers how the song should go and why did he think he could just do this, it doesn’t matter how good at sightreading he’s always been. It’s been so long of him locking the memories in a chained and padlocked safe in the back of his mind and he’s terrified of playing again being what opens it because playing and singing and music has always always meant Mom, and she’s gone which he still sometimes forgets and it always hurts like hell to remember again, so letting himself remember so much more will only make reality that much worse. It’s been so long and what if he’s forgotten, what if he opens himself to the memories just to find that they don’t exist anymore?

It’s been so long; it’s been over a year, but doesn’t that mean he should be fine by now?

He knows avoiding the memories hasn’t been the best idea, but right now he can’t think of anything he could have done differently, can’t linger and regret his choices because he feels so vulnerable and exposed finally sitting at the piano in front of his whole class for the first time in a year, and the choice is right there and maybe he could do it but not in front of everyone his brain screams, and he can almost feel Quinn’s sharp, judging, so far from friendly gaze fixed on him and that is what breaks it, that is something he definitely can’t take and he pulls his hands back with a short inhale and the whirlwind in his mind stops and he can mostly breathe again.

It’s been so long.

Heart still pounding, he gets up and apologizes to Mrs. Harrison because she really has tried to help him and he appreciates it but he still can’t, and Quinn makes some comment and Mercedes fires something back but he doesn’t hear any of it, he just has to leave.

He knows Mercedes follows him out and she calls out his name when he’s halfway down the stairs. He’s started crying at some point and he doesn’t know when. All of it is just such a mess and so present in his mind; he was so close to music again, to Mom, but he’s not ready. He’s scared.

“Kurt,” Cedes calls again, quieter, her voice soft and choked, pleading. “Come on, please. Come back… and show them you can sing .”

He turns to look at her at the top of the stairs. “I can’t,” he says, voice rough with tears. “I’ve tried, for over a year I’ve tried…. I’ve tried for Dad, I’ve tried for Mrs. Harrison, fuck, I’ve even tried for Quinn.” He gives a short, bitter laugh as more tears spill down his cheeks.

“I’ve tried so hard for you.” He gestures up to her, voice breaking. “I’ve tried for Mom.” He closes his eyes for a moment, takes a breath. “And I’ve tried for myself.” Mercedes is also crying a little now.

“For over a year, I’ve tried,” Kurt continues weakly. “But I just -- I can’t. Not… not now.”

He runs down the rest of the stairs and out the door, and he knows he just got himself kicked out of music, knows he just ruined everything.

From mercedes 💖, 2:04 pm:

Are you leaving?

From mercedes 💖, 2:06

Tell me when you get home. I love you

To mercedes 💖, 2:08 pm:

i will, at the park for now

From mercedes 💖, 2:10 pm:

I’ll bring your stuff around later.

To mercedes 💖, 2:10 pm:

thank you

To mercedes 💖, 2:11 pm:

i love you. i’m sorry

From mercedes 💖, 2:12 pm:

Nothing to be sorry for, just take care of yourself okay?

From mercedes 💖, 2:13 pm:

Give yourself a hug from me until I get there to do it for you

“Hey, kiddo, how was your day?” Burt asks as he walks in, putting a hand on Kurt’s shoulder who’s doing homework at the kitchen table.

“It was okay,” Kurt responds with a small but hopefully convincing smile to hide the worry eating away at him inside, because if the school’s already contacted his dad about today, about Kurt ruining his last chance…

“I gotta go again in a bit,” Burt says, taking a drink of water. “Some guy really needs a car fix by tomorrow morning, but I’ll be done by dinner.” Kurt nods, some relief flooding his veins. He turns back to his homework.

“Oh, another thing,” Burt says and Kurt stiffens again. “I wanted to come and check in with you -- I talked to a real estate agent today, and they said if we’re serious about selling the house, we need to take some pictures and stuff, clean everything… and I was wondering if you’re up for cleaning Mom’s studio?”

Kurt’s immediate surprise and hesitance must show on his face even as he tries to keep his composure, because Burt quickly assures, “It’s okay if you’re not ready, I promise; we have time. You know I just -- I wouldn’t even know where to start in there.”

Kurt smiles a little. “No, it’s okay,” he says. “I can try tonight.”

“Awesome.” Burt ruffles Kurt’s hair, which from anyone else other than maybe Mercedes would not end particularly well, but Kurt just laughs and tries to brush the loose strands out of his eyes. “I’ll see you later, Kurt. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Dad.”

Kurt exhales slowly as his dad leaves again.

Cleaning out the studio means having to confront exactly what he’s tried to avoid for a year. The disaster that was music class today doesn’t make him feel better about it… but at least this time he’ll be alone -- none of the pressure of having to live up to the standards of well-meaning teachers or aggressive ex-best friends, none of the pressure of having to play at all, especially from the competitive nature at school. And… maybe he needs it.

Moving from here will only help you move on. Kurt’s aunt’s words echo in his mind. A part of him recoils at the idea of leaving his childhood home -- leaving the spaces his mom used to inhabit and her light and energy used to fill to the brim -- and starting over, someplace where there are none of those memories… he can’t tell if that’s a good thing. It feels like more of the running away that he’s been doing for a year, and he wonders if it really will solve anything.

But maybe he does need it. If staying in this house for the last year hasn’t helped, a change would be good, right?

Turning back to his work, he takes a deep breath and starts planning dinner in his head. He’ll tackle the studio after dinner’s ready.

To Dad, 7:39 pm:

dinner’s done, i’ll be in the studio

Kurt takes a slow breath as he opens the doors to the garage.

It’s not that it’s his first time in the studio after his mom died -- someone had to water the plants -- but he kept any interaction with the rest of the room minimal, so it still feels different to take in the full space instead of just rushing to the plants in the back with his head down. It always came with some guilt; it felt like the least he could do to keep some life in the studio when he could barely even bring himself to enter, let alone fill it with music as it needs to be.

He walks in slowly, some apprehension tickling the back of his neck, trying to stay calm. The familiarity is almost overwhelming this time as he looks around, actually taking in the room. The guitars on the wall, the couch and table, all of his mom’s decorations and knick-knacks. The chairs on the ceiling, story told with a fond smile from his dad about his mom wanting to decorate in a fun special way even while 7 months pregnant. The plants in the back, flourishing in front of the wall of windows positioned to let in the sunrise beautifully, not that Kurt has seen it happen recently.

And the grand piano -- in the center of the room, covered with a sheet, neglected for over a year. Kurt pulls it off now absentmindedly, letting the fabric pool over his feet. He takes a deep breath even though he probably just filled the air with dust, and goes over to the bench. He doesn’t open the lid, not yet. Some sheet music is on the seat and he places it on the piano without looking, sits down and gently touches the fallboard, inhaling shakily, not opening it to reveal the keys but just… remembering what it used to be, what it used to -- still means….

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut, “that I haven’t been here.”

With his eyes closed against the dark emptiness of the room, he can almost forget. It’s too easy to think that when he opens his eyes, his mom will be there, and she’ll be writing a song with him, or she’ll be playing, or they’ll just be talking…

Before the idea can flood his mind and leave him reeling when he returns to reality, Kurt stands and looks around the room again. There really is a strangeness to the place now. What used to be so comfortable and an extension of home -- sometimes even more home than the main house -- was always warm and brimming with emotion and joy and music and life -- now cold and dark and hollow, quiet. The familiar bones have an unsettling foreign emptiness around them. It feels wrong.

It needs to be filled. But… Kurt can’t do that.

He misses his mom -- always, but it’s amplified in this space that was always hers. He misses the feeling that the studio used to bring, that spirit that is now dimmed and suppressed. Covered, but still there. He can feel it like a gentle heat behind his skin. Not bad, but overwhelming, and he just….

The loft, Kurt decides suddenly. He’ll start with the loft. There aren’t memories and emotions so confusing and thick there that he’s barely able to avoid it, to push his way through with no energy left to untangle and understand. The loft is just full of random old stuff that his mom wouldn’t throw out and his dad teased her about.

So the loft first. And then he can ease into the rest when he’s more ready. After all, his dad did say they have time.

It’s significantly dustier in the loft; old instruments and random bags full of clothes are scattered and piled across the floor, his own electric keyboard propped up against the wall. Kurt stands on the stepladder a few steps below the actual loft floor, looks around a little, his eyes landing on a CD case lying on the ground -- black with a simple stark white word design: Sunset Curve. He picks it up, eyeing it thoughtfully, brings it back down to the main floor and decides to put it into the old CD player.

He doesn’t really know why he has such an urge all of a sudden. He’s listened to some music, but not nearly as much as before, and has actually chosen to listen to music only a handful of times since his mom died.

But… the studio needs music. As an apology for a year of neglect, and as a goodbye, he can let this music redeem the studio’s spirit a little, fill what he’s left hollow.

And he doesn’t want to be alone in the silence with his memories while he’s going through everything, even just in the loft. As something completely unfamiliar and random, this can give him the distraction and none of the pain. At least, that’s the plan.

Stepping down from the loft stairs, he glances at the picture in the CD case as he opens it -- a band of four who all look like teenagers, staring seriously into the camera -- he doesn’t get a good look at them, just slides the disc into the CD player and takes a seat on the couch.

The opening song starts strong with a gritty guitar riff and a 1, 2, 3! counting the band in. Despite himself, Kurt starts nodding along to the beat. It really is a great song, unique and upbeat…

Then some kind of… panicked screaming makes itself heard, first quietly and he thinks it could be part of the song, but it crescendos and gets unbearably loud --

And then there are three strangers appearing out of thin air before his eyes, screaming as they fall to the ground heavily. Kurt would wince at the sound of the impact --

That part’s certainly unlike any CD he’s listened to before.

He’s frozen, heart hammering and eyes widening as he stares at the three strangers picking themselves up off the ground, taking in their surroundings a little…

“How’d we get back here?” the middle one -- a shorter guy with black hair -- says breathlessly.

Kurt screams.

It’s not his finest moment, but three complete strangers just appeared in his mom’s studio, seemingly just popping into the air, and he can’t say he’s never been superstitious in his entire life or that he isn’t drawing immediate conclusions -- supernatural conclusions, fucking ridiculous conclusions. He doesn’t love that he runs into his dad on his way back into the house which may have also involved a little yelling about seeing ghosts (ghosts who screamed back, for the record), but he makes it to the safety of his room and texts Mercedes frantically, who doesn’t respond.

“Come on, Cedes,” he hisses to himself, shooting off another text. “Answer me!”

A knock from his doorway startles him and he just barely manages to hold back a shout, turning to see his dad leaning into his room hesitantly.

“You okay?”

Kurt gives him what must be a hysterical-looking attempt at a reassuring smile, all wide eyes and clenched teeth. “Yeah, no, totally fine, sorry for -- scaring you,” he replies choppily, tone not even convincing to himself. “Just, um, practicing for a school play.”

Burt definitely doesn’t believe him, but nods slowly anyway. “Well, I’m gonna go clean up -- ” He gestures over his shoulder with a grease-covered hand. “Dinner in like, ten minutes?”

“Yeah. Sounds good,” Kurt says shortly, forcing another smile and a thumbs-up.

As soon as the door closes, Kurt turns back toward his window and tries to get a glance of the studio, but it’s blocked from this angle by the trees in their yard. Apprehensively, he heads back to the garage, thankfully not running into his dad this time, phone in hand and thumb hovering over Mercedes’ phone contact.

When he goes in, it’s empty; no sign of anything out of the ordinary happening.

He scans the space warily, feeling jumpy and nervous, but nothing happens and he mumbles, “I know I saw something, I’m not crazy.”

He hears a soft popping noise and then, “Well, we’re all a little crazy,” from behind him and he turns with a sharp gasp.

“Oh, my god, who are you?” Kurt yells, maybe a little too loud because the black-haired boy winces slightly and all three of them step back a little. “What the hell are you doing in my mom’s studio?”

“Your mom’s studio?” the black-haired guy scoffs. “This is our studio!”

The tall blonde guy bounces forward. “Yeah, like, the piano’s new, but -- ” He looks to the right and his face lights up. “My couch!” he calls, running over and jumping straight onto it.

The girl -- hair black and in braids -- rolls her eyes. “Not your couch, Sam.”

The blonde -- Sam? -- sits up indignantly, stabbing a finger in the cushions. “Hey, I spent more time on this couch than any of you. Pretty sure it’s mine at this point.”

Kurt just watches them with wide eyes, jaw hanging open, with absolutely no idea what to do.

“But these aren’t our instruments,” the black-haired guy says warily, looking around. At some point he and the girl have linked arms, Kurt notices. He watches as they all take in the studio, faces getting increasingly confused and worried. Kurt raises an eyebrow that apparently can go higher than it already is.

“Because… it’s my mom’s studio…” he manages to say again, mind still whirling at the hurricane of new and completely nonsensical information.

“Can you just -- give us a minute?” Sam says, jumping over the coffee table to join his friends. They turn away to talk in a huddle, and Kurt stands awkwardly as they talk in failed attempts at hushed tones.

Tina’s trying to ignore the pounding of her possibly-only-theoretical heart -- she’s dead, how can she even feel a heartbeat -- as she watches Blaine and Sam talk to the… living person in front of them. Sam makes his usual comment about “his couch” and Tina snarks back with her usual response and it gives her some comfort, some familiarity even in this studio which should feel like home, has for so long, and it still does to an extent, but everything here is suddenly different.

The comment does send the strange boy’s attention back to her, though, which she doesn’t really like. Blaine wraps an arm around hers and she squeezes his forearm in gratitude. He did that a lot when they were alive -- knew how and when to offer her his touch to reassure her a little.

At least there’s something that’s still the same.

At least her boys are still the same.

She tries to focus on Blaine’s arm in hers, on Sam’s dumb comments as he comes bounding back to them, hissing, “Guys, what is going on here?”

Tina shrugs. Blaine whispers, “Who is he?”

“He can hear you,” the person in question says pointedly from behind them, but Sam ignores him and says, “Maybe he’s a witch.” He looks up, pointing. “There are chairs on the ceiling.”

“There’s no such thing as witches,” Tina hisses.

“Are you sure?” Sam shoots back. “Because I used to think there was no such thing as ghosts!”

Tina swallows. “That’s fair.”

“So we’re going with witch?” Blaine asks.

“No!” Tina waves her hands at both of them. “No, come on. You guys are just -- he’s probably just overwhelmed, okay? Let someone with a softer touch handle this.”

Maybe “softer touch” wasn’t the right phrase to use in this instance, she thinks, but she really just wants answers and figures she might as well be straightforward. “Why are you in our studio?” she asks, maybe a little too aggressively, stepping up to the alive stranger.

He looks down with a shocked expression and Tina realizes she accidentally got close enough to touch him -- or… pass her hand through his, partially. They both watch as he brings his hand through hers again. It’s a weird feeling -- warm and kind of tingly, or like she’s putting her hand through water.

“Oh my god,” he says, eyes wide. “How did you do that?”

Tina raises their eyebrows a little. “Okay, clearly you don’t -- clearly, he doesn’t get it,” she says, addressing the guys behind her. She turns back to the stranger, gesturing to herself and the others as she explains, “We’re ghosts. We’re just three ghosts, and we’re really happy to be home, so… thank you for the flowers; they really brighten up the room.” She tries to smile at him.

“We’re actually in a band called Sunset Curve,” Blaine pipes up, stepping up to flank her on the left.

“Tell your friends!” chimes Sam on her right.

“Last night was a really big night for us,” Blaine says, a little sadly. “It was gonna change our lives.”

Tina whispers, “Uh, I’m pretty sure it did.” Blaine huffs and elbows her gently.

“This is freaking me out,” the stranger says, shaking his head as he takes something from his pocket.

“What is that; what are you doing?” Blaine asks.

Alive Stranger looks up, fingers still touching the face of the object. “It’s my phone -- nope, stop talking to them! There’s no such thing as cute ghosts,” he says, seemingly to himself.

Sam gasps. “Think we’re cute?” He raises an eyebrow, making one of his insufferable Sam faces; Tina almost laughs.

The boy looks up again with wide eyes, gaze flitting to each of them as if watching for a reaction, swallowing and going back to his phone.

“Who’re you calling?” Tina asks, trying to see the side facing him because that doesn’t look like any phone she’s ever seen.

“I’m googling Sunset Swerve.”

“Sunset Curve!” Blaine, Sam, and Tina correct him at the same time, Sam drawing a curve in the air with his finger.

The stranger laughs nervously, staring at them with wide eyes and then back at his phone. “Okay… so there is a Sunset Curve.�� He swallows again. “You guys did die. But not last night.” Tina’s stomach drops a little; Blaine and Sam get closer.

“Twenty-five… years ago,” the boy finishes, a confused look in his eyes.

Tina barely has time to register this before Sam says, “That’s impossible. All we did after we floated out of the car was go to that weird dark room where Tina cried.”

Her mouth drops open. “I wasn’t -- I -- we -- ” she squeaks, voice jumping up an octave. “I think we were all pretty upset,” she says, but she supposes Sam is right.

He pats her back and doesn’t have a chance to respond again because Blaine steps in, “That was just for, like, an hour, though. We just showed up here.” Tina and Sam nod.

“Look,” the living one says, finally turning his “phone” toward them. They lean forward to see a screen with a photo of them -- and Artie, Tina thinks distantly; she feels his absence acutely and it spikes through her chest -- taken for their summer tour, and a bunch of small text around it that she can’t read, a bold headline at the top reading, Sunset Curve: A Hollywood Tragedy. “I’m just telling you what my phone says,” he explains. “You guys died in 1995. It’s now 2020.”

“So this is the future?” Sam asks incredulously as the boy pulls his phone back. Something else sticks out in Tina’s mind, though.

“So -- it has been twenty-five years,” she says, pausing to gather her thoughts. “I have been crying for twenty-five years -- how is that possible?!”

“You’re a very emotional person,” Sam reasons.

“I am not!” she insists, but the tears already pressing in the back of her throat want to prove otherwise. Distantly, she reminds herself that she’s with her friends who’ve seen it all and she doesn’t need to hold back, but the presence of this complete stranger also overrides the ease of her relationship with the guys. Sam rubs a comforting hand over her shoulder, and she swallows the tears down.

Alive Stranger shakes his head. “I gotta go… eat dinner,” he says slowly. He turns back around once he’s walked past the three of them and says, “Look, I’m really sorry for what happened to you guys, but this isn’t your studio anymore. You have to leave.”

“But we -- ” Blaine starts, starting to go forward but a sharp glare stops him and he clears his throat. “We didn’t even get your name.”

“It’s Kurt,” the stranger snaps.

“Cool, I’m -- Blaine,” Blaine says hesitantly. “And this is…”

“Sam, hey.”

“Tina, how’s it going…”

“Ba-da,” Blaine sings weakly, gesturing his hands in front of them like he’s presenting them to Kurt.

They all watch for Kurt’s reaction, but he just sighs and leaves the studio. He leaves the doors open, probably to remind them that they technically just got kicked out of their studio -- or, Kurt’s mom’s studio -- someone’s studio, but really it’s been their home for so long…

“Kurt seems nice,” Sam says cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood.

Tina turns to him. “Did you miss the part where he kicked us out, or…” she says drily. Sam shrugs, a hint of a smirk on his face. “Okay,” Tina mutters, turning to wander around the studio some more. If they’re going to be kicked out, she wants to spend as much more time as she can here.

Kurt’s mind is a storm. He doesn’t know where to start with this new information -- with an evening that took such a sharp turn from reminiscing and sad and somewhat painful into just… something so completely different and unexpected.

Dinner Kurt can do. He can put the craziness of ghosts aside because dinner is easy, dinner is simple; dinner is important.

His dad has already set everything out so Kurt takes his seat across from him, sending a not-completely-true nvm everything’s fine, sorry for worrying you text to Mercedes, who finally got back to him at some point when he was distracted…

Distracted talking to ghosts.

“How’s it going?” Burt asks as he sits down and it takes Kurt a second to remember he must be talking about cleaning the studio, and not actually about ghost musicians.

Ghosts don’t exist. There are no ghosts in the garage. Don’t think about ghosts.

“It’s good,” Kurt says, poking at his food a little. “I’m starting with the loft.”

Burt smiles. “Those old instruments need a home.”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, returning the smile. “Mom would like that.”

The instruments probably belong to some ghosts, Kurt realizes, but… nothing he can really do about that. And that’s if the ghosts can even touch objects.

They eat in comfortable silence for a while and then Burt sets down his fork. Kurt looks up apprehensively.

“So I got an email from the school today,” he starts. Kurt fiddles with his fork and drops his gaze.

“Hey, it’s okay, Kurt, I’m not mad,” Burt promises.

You should be, Kurt thinks -- all that money spent for him to audition for and attend the music program, and for private lessons and sheet music and piano maintenance, just for him to throw it all away.

“I know those classes can be hard,” his dad says, and Kurt almost can’t take his gentle tone, feels guilty about it even though he appreciates it. “But… you still like music, don’t you?”

Kurt shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe?”

“I know the memories are hard, believe me, Kurt. But, every time I see you, I see Mom, you know? And I love that, I really do. Maybe, if you give yourself a chance, you can, too.” Kurt looks up hesitantly to see his dad’s gentle, loving expression and eyes slightly glassy with tears. Looking down again, he swallows, and nods.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I will. I’ll try.”

Because what he said to Mercedes earlier on the staircase is true, but… he’ll always try harder for his dad.

“It’s okay, Kurt,” Burt assures him. “We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

Kurt smiles and almost starts eating again, but music suddenly blares from outside, startling both of them, Kurt barely holding back a loud swear.

“What is that?” Burt says, getting up but Kurt rushes to reassure him, saying quickly, “I must have just left the CD player on in the garage! It’s fine, I’ll go get it!”

He runs back to the studio where the ghosts are still there apparently, and have somehow gotten instruments from the loft and set everything up to start playing, and play really loudly -- and it honestly sounds good but Kurt can’t focus on that because they’re going to disturb the entire neighborhood and get the cops called on them for a noise complaint and what is he supposed to say -- no officer, it was just the three ghosts in the garage being idiots, sorry?

Kurt yells for them to stop but it’s useless; he can barely even hear himself over how incredibly loudly they’re playing. Blaine, on an electric guitar that Kurt remembers seeing in the loft, turns and sees Kurt, walking towards him and finally playing one last chord when Kurt makes a horizontal cutting motion with his hand, and Sam, on the bass, follows, Tina playing one last short drum roll, looking up with a wide grin.

They all look… alive, Kurt thinks, despite literally being dead, so different from the confusion he left them with -- relaxed and loose and faces lit up, the energy flowing through them almost visible. If he didn’t know they were ghosts and made of air, he’d expect to be able to reach out and feel them, breaths hot and fast from the exertion and adrenaline, skin warm and slightly sweaty, hearts beating strong like the steady percussion of their band.

It reminds him of how music used to make him feel.

“Cut it out!” Kurt snaps, trying not to raise his voice too much. “The whole neighborhood could hear you! I thought I told you to leave!”

Blaine looks back at his bandmates, bewildered. “People -- people can hear us play?”

“Yes!” Kurt says exasperatedly. “My dad heard you from inside!”

“… What did he think?” Blaine asks after a moment. Kurt opens his mouth for an irritated response --

“Everything okay in here?”

Kurt whips around to see his dad in the doorway and smiles with wide eyes. “Yeah! I just -- had to turn off the CD player,” he lies.

People have told Kurt before that he’s a good liar; he really hopes that’s true after the evening he’s had -- he's having.

Burt’s attention is elsewhere, though, seemingly forgetting about the chaos from just a moment earlier. “Wait, is this the junk that was in the loft?” he says, excitedly eyeing the instruments and… the ghosts that he can’t see.

“Junk?” Blaine exclaims. Tina stands up, her eyes on Burt, drumsticks gripped tightly in one hand.

They all watch apprehensively as Burt weaves through the instruments, even going so far as to rattle Tina’s cymbals and tap the drums, much to her horror. She fixes Kurt with wide, urgent eyes, to which Kurt just shrugs and gives her a helpless look. Hey Dad, actually, the ghost drummer wants you to stop, so…

“Hey, this stuff’s in pretty good shape,” Burt says excitedly. “Maybe we can make a couple bucks, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kurt agrees weakly, mostly just watching as Tina fails to push Burt away from the drums.

“I like the song you had on,” Burt says, finally stepping away from the instruments. Tina rubs down a cymbal with her sleeve.

“Sweet! We’re Sunset Curve,” Blaine pipes up.

“Tell your friends!” Sam says, to a fond eye-roll from Tina.

“It’s just an old CD I found,” Kurt says, ripping his attention from the ghosts.

“Well, it’s nice that you’re listening to music again,” Burt says sincerely. “Out here, you can play whatever you want, whenever you want.” He waves his hands out on either side for emphasis, going through Sam and Blaine’s bodies. Kurt chuckles weakly.

“Oh,” Sam says, looking down at where Burt’s hand was in his stomach just a moment before. “That’s nice.”

“Stay out of this,” Kurt hisses.

“Sorry, Kurt, I’m just trying to help -- ”

“Oh! No, not you, Dad,” Kurt says quickly. For fuck’s sake -- “Just -- just give me a minute -- ” He starts pulling his dad toward the door. Burt stops him and says, “Hey, we’re gonna figure out this music program thing, okay?”

“Thanks, Dad,” Kurt says with a smile, and gestures for him to leave.

Once Burt is out of sight, he turns back to the ghosts.

“Wait -- ” Tina waves her drumsticks around a little. “So -- only you can see us, but everyone can hear us?” Kurt nods in confirmation. “What kind of ghosts are we?” Tina says.

“Who cares, dude!” Sam says, stepping up to Tina’s drum kit with a grin. “People can hear us play!” The three exchange fist-bumps as Blaine says happily, “We might be dead, but our music isn’t.”

“And Kurt’s dad likes our music!” Sam cheers.

“He’s a dad, it doesn’t count,” Tina mumbles, smiling and pushing Sam playfully when he turns to her with an offended look.

Confusion and annoyance bubble up inside Kurt along with something like anger at, just, all of it and he groans and says loudly, “Why can’t you guys just be normal ghosts? You know, go hang out at an old mansion or something! I hear Pasadena’s nice!” and turns to leave, slamming the door on his way out.

He just… has had too much going on today. He needs to -- ignore his homework and the problem with school and maybe just sleep in for the next two days. That would be really nice.

He’s so caught up in his head and he jumps and yells when a ghost appears in front of him with no warning.

“Don’t do that!” Kurt exclaims.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Blaine says quickly. “ -- You do know how rad this is though, right? People -- people can hear us play!”

“Yeah, good for you,” Kurt replies, a little too harshly. “It’s just that I’ve had a really, really, awful day. I’ve gotta go.”

He walks past Blaine just to turn around again when he says, “I’m really sorry you had a bad day.” Kurt nods; he can tell Blaine wants to say more, so he waits.

Blaine continues slowly, “I just… three ghosts just found out they had a bad twenty-five years, and then they find out that the one thing they lived for in the first place, they can still do. So you can kick us out, but -- we’re not giving up music. We can play again; that’s a gift no musician would ever turn down,” he says earnestly, eyes wide and almost pleading.

That hurts in Kurt’s chest a little more than it should and he looks down again to avoid the passion and excitement shining clearly in Blaine’s eyes, in his voice, in his words. He swallows down the feeling that statement unearths inside of him, but suddenly his bad day is at the forefront of his mind again -- his bad year.

That’s a gift no musician would ever turn down … some musician he is, then. But he already knew that.

Blaine says softly, “You’ve gotta know that. Clearly your mom is into music.”

Kurt swallows. “Was,” he says, monotone and quiet. “She passed away.”

He hates that it’s become easier to say; he wants to either spit the words out or break down sobbing but he manages to keep his voice steady. (In the back of his mind, he wonders why he just told that to a random ghost he just met. Maybe he’s just going crazy. He’s literally talking to ghosts, after all.)

Blaine’s face falls. “I -- I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“Yeah, we -- we didn’t know,” Sam says quietly. He and Tina have also left the studio, standing on the other side of the low wall separating the garage area from the pathway back to the house. They look up with sympathetic eyes and Kurt looks away from them too -- can’t meet any of their wide, well-meaning gazes right now.

“It’s fine,” he dismisses. “Sorry I got mad.” The ghosts are thankfully looking at each other now, seemingly silent conversation passing between their glances. “You guys are pretty good,” Kurt says, trying to change the subject and lighten the atmosphere.

Blaine raises an eyebrow, turning his gaze back to Kurt. “‘Pretty good’? You know that’s just, like, 25 years of rust being dusted off, right?”

“Do you play, too?” Tina asks.

“No, no, I don’t play.” It’s not exactly a lie anymore but it scrapes in Kurt’s throat with his haste to answer. “That’s all my mom’s stuff in there.”

“She’s an amazing songwriter,” Blaine says.

“Yeah, she was,” Kurt answers. “Wait… how do you know?”

Blaine opens his mouth, glancing at the others for a second. “We found a song on the piano,” he says. “If it’s hers… your mom was really talented.”

Kurt nods. She really, really was.

He feels like he doesn’t have the energy to say it again, so he just stays quiet. Somewhat awkwardly, he turns to leave, sensing the end of the conversation and part of him desperately wanting to just leave and not have to see these ghosts again….

So Kurt surprises even himself when he pauses and turns back to face them. “I guess,” he starts, and their gazes snap back up to him. “If you need a place to stay… you can stay in there.” He nods toward the studio and the ghosts’ faces light up. Kurt can’t help but smile back. “There’s a couch that turns into a bed, and in the back there’s a bathroom with a shower, if you still need any of that stuff.”

“Awesome!” Sam exclaims quietly, earning an elbow in the side and a questioning look from Tina. “What? Dude, I just really like showers,” he defends.

Tina rolls her eyes. Kurt takes a breath, raising his hands to gesture vaguely at the three of them. “This is just… too weird.” He nods to himself, finally leaving this time, leaving the ghosts to… do what they will.

The fact that there are ghosts in his mom’s studio…. Maybe there’s a chance that Mom knows them -- sent them, he thinks… but decides to not get his hopes up. She’s gone and he needs to just keep it at that.

What he really wants is to tell Mercedes, but he doesn’t know how.

What would you say if I told you there were three ghosts living in my mom’s studio? Kurt thinks on his way back to his room.

You’d say I’m crazy.

It’s some point in the night; they figured out that they don’t need to sleep -- can’t sleep, it seems like, which is honestly really annoying in Tina’s opinion because they’re ghosts with literally nothing to do for too many hours at a time -- so they’re just hanging out in the studio, with the lights outside giving them a little visibility through the garage windows, but it’s kind of nice to just sit in the dark.

Tina has been on the couch with Sam, lying on their backs, heads in opposite directions, legs pressed up against each other. Sam’s bass is unplugged, laid on his stomach and extending over Tina’s legs. He plucks out notes and Tina accompanies with a soft beat using just her hands and body parts as instruments. Sometimes it’s a familiar bassline -- a Sunset Curve song rehearsed or performed or recorded before -- and they also hum the harmonies that they know, and sometimes they improvise -- Tina storing the good bits in her mind for a future writing session.

Blaine is in the loft where they hoped a light could be on and maybe go unnoticed. Tina assumes that he’s writing; he always was when they were alive. And of course, now he has 25 years of dark room and relative nothingness to catch up on writing about.

It feels like another quiet night from when they were alive, each of them with an excuse to escape their homes for the night, and they’d all crash here, filling the studio with soft music and noise. Blaine would stay up writing and sometimes singing while Sam and Tina (and Artie) would try to sleep, telling him to stop humming, or, since the main house inhabitants who would care about the noise were rarely there, they would sometimes join along with him and make it a Sunset Curve midnight rehearsal.

They’ve never had the best sleep schedules anyway.

Tina giggles quietly as she and Sam play into nothingness, both parts running uncontrolled and unable to get back on track. They both stop and Sam starts playing a familiar line -- parts they’d worked out before with bass, drums, and both guitars, but never actually put into a song. Tina waits for a moment to come in with her part.

She’s nearly startled off the couch when Blaine poofs down beside the couch with his guitar and starts his part. Tina starts laughing -- probably too loud but they’re pretty sure only their music can be heard anyway -- and slides off the couch to sit on the ground, picking the drumming back up on her legs.

“You guys wanna check out this teleportation thing?” Blaine asks, playing the challenging guitar riff meant for electric guitar messily on his acoustic without a pick.

Sam sits up and puts his bass to the side. “Absolutely,” he says. “Where’re we going?”

“I have an idea,” Blaine says, setting his guitar down. He pulls Tina up and extends a hand out for Sam. “I think I can take you guys with me.”

“What?” Tina squeaks, but a second later, she’s sitting far above the ground, outside, on top of the marquee of the Orpheum. “Oh my god,” she mutters, looking down dizzily at the people passing by on the sidewalk. Her body tingles with a weird uncomfortable energy for just a few seconds before it fades.

“Yes!” Blaine laughs, kicking his legs up excitedly. “I mean, I know being a ghost isn’t our first choice, but it sure is easy getting around!”

“Easy for you, maybe!” Sam cries on Blaine’s other side. “I lost my shirt on that one!”

Tina looks over and sure enough, Sam is shirtless. She stifles a laugh behind her hand. “Like that’s a concern,” she pipes up, but Sam’s shirt appears right as she says it. They all laugh and sit in silence for a moment.

“So why’d you bring us here?” Tina asks, looking out across Hollywood Boulevard, the new and old buildings and shops, the people and cars of the future. The light of the Orpheum’s neon sign shines in her periphery, same as it did on a night twenty-five years ago. “Just another reminder of where we never got to play,” she says wryly, turning to face Blaine on her left, patting his shoulder. “Thanks, Blaine.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “I’m telling you guys, it’s not over yet!” Tina reappears on the sidewalk right below them, almost losing her balance and falling through a person walking past. She shoots a glare at Blaine for teleporting them with no warning again, but he just grins back and starts down the sidewalk, Sam following. “Let’s see how many places we can play tonight, yeah? Check out the music scene of the future? And no trouble getting into those clubs anymore!”

Tina laughs, falling into step with them. She watches Sam walk straight through someone going in the opposite direction and doesn’t realize someone is in her way, which shouldn't be a problem, until she bumps into them.

She feels them.

“Hey!” she says involuntarily, turning to see who it was -- another ghost? A tall man with a cape and top hat nods at her with an acknowledging and almost menacing gleam in his eye, then turns again and walks away.

He could see her, he could touch her -- he has to be another ghost, right?

“Tina, you coming?” Sam calls. She swallows and takes one last look, the other ghost having disappeared among the other people on the sidewalk, before turning and running to catch back up with the guys.

“I just ran into someone,” she says, a little breathless -- she doesn’t know if that’s from running, which she doesn’t think she can actually get breathless from, or the fact that she ran into someone.

“Another ghost?” Blaine says.

“I mean, it has to be, right? Uh, Kurt -- Kurt can see us but he can’t touch us…”

“And his dad couldn’t either,” Sam adds.

“It must have been another ghost. He looked like a… performer, or something.” Tina wrinkles their nose a little as she remembers his whole get-up, completely out of place among what she’s seen so far of 21st century street fashion. (But then again, so is she, and her friends.)

“… I guess we’re not alone, then,” Blaine says, breaking a short bewildered silence.

“We’re never alone!” Sam exclaims, walking between them to throw his arms around Blaine and Tina’s shoulders. Tina laughs and grabs his forearm, mystery ghost forgotten for the time being.

Blaine responds with a grin, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Kurt wakes up earlier than usual the next morning. He thinks he still has school -- he doesn’t know how being removed from the music program works, but no one told him not to come and besides, he does have non-music classes to keep up with, even if he doesn’t necessarily want to. He gets ready as usual, leaving breakfast out for his dad, and there’s still half an hour before Mercedes should be getting here.

Perfect. There’s something he needs to try by himself… for himself.

He heads out to the studio with his things, a fluttering feeling in his stomach, but it’s different from the feeling before he tried to play in class yesterday, like the butterflies had turned to stone and were rolling around inside him, weighing him down and making him nauseous. This time it’s promising, hopeful, familiar -- butterflies fluttering normally, peacefully.

The room is empty when Kurt pushes the doors open and drops his backpack by the entrance.

“Guys?” he calls hesitantly, to no response.

He wonders if he should be worried about where the ghosts might be, or relieved for if they really did leave after all, since that is what he wanted… but he realizes relief is not at all what he feels at that possibility.

But if the ghosts aren’t here, then all the better for what he wants to do, so he decides to ignore their absence for now.

Kurt walks up to the grand piano in the middle of the room, thinking. There’s something… something deep loosening in his chest -- something about Blaine and the others and their intense passion for music that is so different from the intense judgment and competition at school that made it so impossible for him to play yesterday.

The way Blaine had talked about music…

The one thing they lived for in the first place -- they can still do.

A gift.

Kurt spreads out the sheet music that he found yesterday, just placed on the piano lid without a glance and it’s still there, so Blaine and the others must have just taken a look at it. He recognizes his mother’s handwriting, achingly familiar and beautiful in a minimalistic way, the neat notes and lyrics, clean and legible even without the help of staff lines. His heart stutters and he gasps a little as he reads some of it -- he recognizes the song. Something his mom told him she was writing when she got sick.

Kurt used to be so involved in her songwriting, but as she got worse and Kurt grew away from the piano (and from his voice), he never asked about this song.

She’d finished it.

Here’s the one thing I want you to know, you got someplace to go…

And he needs to hear it.

His fingers tremble slightly as he places them gingerly on the keys over the starting notes of the song. It feels completely different than it did yesterday; he doesn’t know if it’s the lack of teacher and students watching, the insanity of yesterday evening in between, the song itself… but the stones turned back into butterflies and it almost feels like it did before….

He wants to play, to make music. For the first time in a year, he actually feels like he can. And he needs to.

And if -- when -- it unlocks the memories… he thinks he’s ready.

Kurt takes a deep breath and plays.

#i somehow added like 25 words in my final edit just now lol #idk if anyone really cares but suspend ur disbelief at kurt singing julie's songs XD #i definitely know it probably would not work with her songs as is #they have Very different voices i am aware but i'm also too lazy to do anything about it so . they can be adjusted #to fit his voice right lol i just have no idea how that works 🤪 i just play piano and even then not really 🥴#so just like imagineee lol #i love how in the last part i said what would be endgame in this fic but like #damn i don't have any idea what's happening past what happens in the actual jatp show and #even then idk what's gonna happen within those bc it's not exactly the same 😂#lol but those ships Will probably like #have hints or something if that makes any sense laksdhgdjfs anywayyyy #kurt and the phantoms #my ficsssss #glee fic #glee #idk how i tag things lmao i think that's good enough XD #DRUMMER TINA DRUMMER TINA DRUMMER TINA #oh my god it's finally happening skdghsdhdkghdhjfhgjfgh #i've been working on this since my family went on vacation at the end of june so like two months fuckdghjfdkl #anyway lol hope y'all likeeeee 🥺💖#omg we're at 79 pages of google doc total lol

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awanderingdeal · 3 years

Text

Never too late - 1-3

There were so many things Regulus wanted to do as child that his parents wouldn’t allow, but Leo is adamant that it is never too late to do those things. They make a list of ten things Regulus wants to do before he decides what his next step in life was going to be, because he refuses to grow up before he even got a chance to be young.

Disclaimer: Of course you don’t have to have do any of things to have a happy and fulfilled childhood, but Regulus didn’t not get to do them because he had other interests or because he didn’t have the means (and usually, if that is the case, parents will ensure their child have other fun memories). It was a case of having controlling parents, who thought the only important things were school and hockey and there was no reason to have fun outside of those things. He watched his friends having experiences and he didn’t get choose in whether he wanted to participate or not.

CW: mentions of toxic parenting and frequent mentions of food.

Please message me if you feel anything needs to be added to the content warnings.

Rating:T

Credit for the sweater universe and the characters within it go to @lumosinlove. What a hero.

P.S. I was getting increasingly inebriated as I wrote this and I haven’t read it over so sorry for any errors. I will probably edit tomorrow!

“What do you mean you’ve never had a sleepover?” Leo exclaimed, tea sloshing over the side of his mug with the force that he set it down on the table. “Not even with your cousins?”

“Not even with our cousins,” Regulus shrugged. “Maybe when I was really small? Mother and Father weren’t keen on letting us out of their sight much.”

“Yeah, that's fucked up,” Leo said resolutely. Sometimes he forgot how lucky he was to have his parents, and conversations with Regulus often made him want to call and tell them how much he loved them.

“I’m starting to recognise that now,” Regulus hummed quietly, giving Leo a shy look. “Guess I should be grateful to Uncle Alphard for the trust fund. At least I’ll be able to pay for the lifetime of therapy I’m going to require.”

“You and Sirius should milk the media by doing increasingly ridiculous interviews for exorbitant fees,” Leo laughed, looking around the kitchen. “Do you have any cookies in this house?”

“Merde, your stomach is bottomless. We just had lunch!” Regulus rolled his eyes, but waved in the direction of one of the cupboards.

“I’m a growing boy,” Leo defended, pushing his chair back to source the cookies. “Besides, I’m going to need the energy if we’re going to plan your ‘Regulus had a sucky childhood and this must be rectified list’,” he said, his words muffled due to the fact his head was half-way into the cupboard as he rummaged around for a worthy snack. Moments later, Leo emerged with a triumphant smile and his fingers clasped around a packet of Nutter Butter cookies.

“First of all, what the fuck?” Regulus scoffed, taking a long sip of his coffee. “Secondly, really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Admittedly, the name is a work in progress,” Leo sat back down, schooling his features into something he hoped looked indignant. “And, I have a brand to maintain,” he continued, biting into the cookie with an overly loud crunch.

And that was how Leo and Regulus ended up spending an entire afternoon curating the perfect list of things Regulus wanted to experience before he decided his next step in life.

1) Have a sleepover! Build a fort, play video games, eat all the snacks, stay up all night and have a pillow fight!

“Babe, sleepovers are supposed to be fun, not meticulously planned military operations,” Finn teased, peering over Leo’s shoulder to look at the schedule on the laptop screen.

“There is a lot of enjoyment to be found in structure!” Leo argued, tilting his head back to pout at Finn. “I don’t want to forget anything. I just want Reg to have a good time,” he sighed.

“Sweetheart it’s gonna be fine,” Finn reassured, pecking a kiss on Leo’s lips. “You’ve got pizza, you’ve got Mario Kart, you’ve got -” Finn leaned forward to squint at the screen, “building a blanket fort. Hey, I wanna come to this sleepover! You’re gonna have a great time.”

Leo smiled up at Finn, his boyfriend had a seemingly infinite ability to make him feel better.

***

“Bye! Have fun!” Finn yelled.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Logan added, and then the door slammed.

Leo reached out to grab his cell off the coffee table before wriggling excitedly in his seat, “Okay! Let the sleepover begin. What pizza do you want?”

Regulus rolled his eyes, but his reply betrayed his enthusiasm, “I’ll have an extra large half and half please. One side with ham and pineapple and the other with pepperoni, green peppers, grilled onions, black olives, mushrooms, sausage and extra mozzarella. Oh, and a side of wedges, please.”

Leo spluttered, “Reg!”

“Hey, don’t judge. Your order will be just as big,” Regulus frowned.

“Please,” Leo scoffed. “I live with Finn and Logan. You could order five pizzas and I wouldn’t be phased. No, I am scandalised by your topping choices. Pineapple!” Leo gesticulated his arms widely, “I thought you were better than that. I am seriously re-considering this friendship.”

“Wow, you really are picking up on Finn’s dramatics,” Regulus laughed.

Leo huffed as he tapped at his phone, “Pineapple on pizza is a very serious matter, thank you very much. Since this is your sleepover, I have ordered the abomination. Consider this a one time pass.”

“I am honoured.” Regulus drawled, playing up the posh notes of his accents.

“So you should be,” Leo said, grabbing the cushion from behind him and throwing it at Regulus.

“Oh, that’s how you want to play it.” Regulus smirked, grasping the cushion that had been thrown at him, as well as the one stuffed behind him.

“Noooooo!” Leo shrieked. “Pillow fights are not on the plan until -” his words interrupted by a cushion hitting him square in the face. “- 9pm.”

“Oh dear, we can’t mess with your painstakingly designed plan.” Regulus teased, leaning forward to pick up the printed schedule that Leo had shown him earlier. “I believe we are at, 19.30 - play Mario Kart whilst waiting for pizza.”

***

“So, did you boys have fun?” Sirius asked, as he placed a cup of coffee in front of Regulus, and then Leo. He sounded exactly like Leo’s mother and it was creeping him out.

“Why are you here?” Regulus grumbled, resting his head against his arms. He titled it to the side and cracked one eye open.

“Thank you for the coffee, Sirius. You’re the best big brother, Sirius,” Sirius did an uncanny imitation of Regulus’ voice. “We were in the neighbourhood and figured we’d pick you up instead of you getting a taxi back.”

Regulus made another noise that sounded somewhat like a thank you.

“Did you guys sleep at all last night?” Remus laughed.

“A little bit,” Leo mumbled, staring into his coffee. He wanted it to magically make its way into his stomach without him having to make the effort of lifting it.

“An hour maybe?” Regulus added.

Logan snorted as he wandered into the kitchen, “We came in at 3am and they were fast asleep on the couch. We have photo evidence.”

“And Leo was doing his “I’m having sweet dreams’ snore so I doubt they had only just fallen asleep,” Finn added, following behind Logan.

“I do not have a ‘I’m having sweet dreams’ snore,” Leo said, the tips of his cheeks turning pink.

Regulus laughed, sitting up-right and swallowing a huge gulp of coffee.

“I wouldn’t laugh if I were you,” Logan began, pouring coffee beans into the espresso machine. “You were drooling.”

2) Master that chore list! Learn to cook! It’s a bore, but you’ll thank me later.

“This is an excellent idea,” Remus said, “Perhaps now I will stop being woken up by the sound of the fire alarm.”

“That was one time!” Regulus protested, shoving Remus in the shoulder. “Leave. I have lessons to learn.”

“Try not to burn the kitchen down!” Sirius sang, as he left the kitchen, his arms piled with snacks.

“You cannot talk, Sirius Black,” Remus laughed. “And don’t you think that is a bit excessive. We’re going to order take-out in two hours anyway.”

***

“Regulus! Your hand,” Leo shouted when he saw the flames.

“What?” Regulus asked, but then he looked down and saw the edge of the oven mitt he was wearing were alight. He must have had them too close to hob. Leo noticed the panic in eyes and grabbed the end of the mitt that wasn’t on fire and chucked it into the sink, turning the tap on to smother the flames.

“Okay,” Leo said, “Maybe we should start with something easier. Let’s try the washing machine.”

Regulus whined, “The washing machine scares me.”

“How does the washing machine scare you?” Leo asked, trying his best to hold in the laugh.

“It’s scary!” Regulus reiterated. “You put stuff in there and they come out tiny or pink or covered in tissue.”

Leo blinked multiple times, registering the words and then he couldn’t hold in the laughter any longer. “Well, those things should only happen if you do it wrong. Pro tip, number one, don’t put tissues in the washing machine,” he said once he had recovered. “Come on, I’ll show you. It’s really not that scary and I’ll teach you how to sort things properly but really I chuck stuff in together all the time and nothing ever turns pink.”

***

“Regulus. Leo,” Remus called, leaning in the doorway to the lounge. Leo paused the movie they were watching before turning to look at him. “Is there a reason that all our bedding is pink?”

Leo and Regulus shared a sheepish look.

“No idea, sorry,” Leo said.

“It was Leo’s fault! He said nothing ever turned pink,” Regulus blurted out, shoving his hand over his mouth as soon as the words left it.

“Never take up a career in espionage,” Leo scoffed, throwing the skittle he conveniently had in his hand at Regulus.

“And I suppose you had something to do with the glove in the kitchen sink?” Remus chuckled.

“Oh fuck, I forgot about that,” Leo said, giving Remus his most charming smile. “I’ll buy a new pair.”

3) Go to your first concert, it’ll be a night to remember

Leo had managed to drag half the team into his mission to get tickets to see Fall Out Boy in a couple of months time. It was a band both he and Regulus loved, and Leo had always wanted to see them when he was younger but it never seemed to work out.

Between them they had twelve laptops that they were constantly refreshing, waiting for the box office to open.

“Yes! I’m in,” Thomas shouted, wiggling around in a celebratory dance. “Waiting time is 27 minutes.” A few seconds later, James was chanting about his access.

“No suh! My wait time is 35 minutes. How is that possible, I was only a few seconds behind Talker,” James griped.

“It’s a cruel cruel game,” Ollie nodded solemnly.

In the end, they did manage to get tickets for everybody that wanted them, even if Leo had lost the will to live by the time he had kicked everybody out of their apartment.

***

Leo noticed that Regulus was sticking pretty close to him as they walked through the halls of the arena, a sign that he was nervous. “Hey, you doing okay?” Leo asked, bumping his shoulder against Regulus’.

“Yeah,” Regulus breathed. “It’s just...a lot,” he gestured to the crowds of people around him. They had tried to get there early to ease Regulus into things, but between Talker and Noelle running later, and Finn having an absolute meltdown because he couldn’t find his old tour t-shirt, it was already starting to get quite busy.

“We can always go if it gets too much,” Leo reassured, smiling softly at Regulus.

“You just paid all that money for the tickets, we can’t just leave,” Regulus argued.

Leo slung his arm around Regulus, hugging him close. “Your comfort is worth far more than the price of a concert ticket, Reggie.”

“Don’t call me that,” Regulus moaned, but Leo felt him sink into the hug. Their tranquil moment was ruined by Finn who decided it was the perfect moment to burst into a rendition of Dance, Dance, and James immediately joined in.

***

“I’m sad,” Regulus sighed, wearing one of the t-shirts he had brought at the concert. He’d been deliberating over a few when Leo had told the cashier that they’d take one of all of them. Thankfully, Regulus had learnt that to argue with Leo when he was trying to show love was futile. “Why am I sad? I just had the best night.”

“Post concert blues,” Leo commiserated, sliding a plate of pancakes across the table to Regulus.

Logan hummed his agreement, drowning his pancakes in maple syrup, “You’ve got to spend the whole day watching the videos you took. Try and get some of the endorphins back. But really, the only thing that cures it, is booking a new concert. You’re gonna be hooked forever.”

“Is it also normal to still be able to hear the music?” Regulus said, rubbing at his left ear, before cutting into his pancake.

“Sure, the music is loud,” Finn answered with a chortle.“ You two blasting music until 2am in the morning probably didn’t help. It’s a good job this apartment is soundproof.”

“Sorry,” Regulus said, looking guilty, “Did we keep you up?” Leo didn’t even remember falling asleep. The last thing he could recall was dancing around his bedroom screaming along to My songs know what you did in the dark, and then was waking up sprawled across Regulus.

“Don’t worry about,” Finn mumbled around a mouthful of food. “It was nice to see you letting go like that.”

“It would be nice if you could learn some table manners,” Logan chirped.

#Leo knut #regulus black #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #lumosinlove #Sweater Weather #food talk #toxic parenting

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shananigans402 · 3 years

Note

1-65 will do, please. Thanks fuck face :)

I knew exactly who this was and I was so tempted to not reply, but your punishment is having to read through all my answers and remember them forever or you fail the friend test. To everyone else, please do not click unless you want to be very bored, my answers are not interesting lol

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you? Nope

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you? Assuming 5 is the most, 1. Maybe 2.

3. The person you would never want to meet? The person who sent me this (jk I’m excited for our eventual meet up where we hit up a strip club first thing 🙏)

4. What is your favorite word? I answered with ‘conniption’ the other day and still have not found a word I like more.

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be? Already answered this, fruit tree! I also like palm trees, maple trees, and willow trees. I know that’s not the question, I’m just saying random shit now.

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought? It took me a long while to remember where I was this morning. I honestly don’t remember, I was rushing to get ready for an early morning meeting.

7. What shirt are you wearing? My Orlando Strong shirt

8. What do you label yourself as? Lesbian

9. Bright room or dark room? Bright room

10. What were you doing at midnight last night? Sleeping? Possibly checking on a feverish little beeb who was going through it with her second dose of the vaccine.

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far? No idea. I like various ages for different reasons, but this age so far is not bad.

12. Who told you they loved you last? Probably my sister 🤷‍♀️

13. Your worst enemy? The person who sent this ask.

14. What is your current desktop picture? The apple pic of Catalina island that changes based on time of day (yes it’s the default, don’t judge me)

15. Do you like someone? Lol yeah I hope so 😂

16. The last song you listened to? Pretty Girl by Hayley Kiyoko

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? Definitely @raginage

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face? I feel like I can only attack Raginage so many times. Can I pick a fictional character? This week I was real mad at Dave in The Darkness. BaBe!

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? Lol no one, you’re talking to a person who feels very uncomfortable with anyone doing anything nice for them.

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional) Not this again. Last time I said eyes? Still no pics, sorry

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do? What would I look like? Do I get to design myself like a sim? I honestly don’t know what I’d do because I doubt the world needs another clueless white man walking around, so maybe just stay at home.

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it? Nope. And my last answer to this was awful. I do think I have a fantastic ability to annoy my friends but in a way that’s just amusing/endearing enough to make them still want to talk to me 😌

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? Unique? Uhm well my two big fears are confined spaces and deep water so a submarine is like my worst nightmare.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal. Oh this is going to sound so odd. To be clear, I’ve had better sandwiches, but my go-to is provolone, turkey, roast beef, and spicy brown mustard or whole grain mustard. Please don’t judge me.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it? Travel budget for future trips to visit my buds and get into trouble and eat food. I know $100 won’t go far, but it’s something.

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go? Well, after my last answer I want to visit my friends! But there are too many people to visit and I only have one ticket. So change of plans. I’m going on a solo trip to Greece. Or Argentina. Or Iceland. Or Bali. Damn, I’m indecisive.

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be? Rabble red blend. Just a solid red wine. Also because @viola-lloyds stole my answer the other day (Juneshine; to be fair I asked her this question but whatever) and I don’t want to copy her.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? Oh I answered this one, something about respecting others. Yeah, a nice rule like that. Want to establish some healthy communication on this island.

29. What is your favorite expletive? It’s still fuck

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno? But what about my PLANTS. Can they count as loved ones? Probably my laptop, I know that’s lame but like...I have a lot of stuff on here. Or the collection of cards I have that my granddad drew little drawings in, I want to get them all framed.

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? To be honest, I don’t know if I’d change big life events in case it altered the trajectory of where I ended up. So idk maybe the ending of Bly, let’s give those lesbians have a happy ending!

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world! Italy! But wait, let’s get back to this sleeping with celebrities and super-powers bit...

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back? Oh that’s a really tough question. I always wanted to meet my great-grandma Olga because she seemed like a really awesome lady.

34. What was your last dream about? I can’t remember, this is bothering me because I wish I could! I’m sorry. My gf recently had a dream where I kissed a dude right in front of her. It made us both very uncomfy lol

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]? I hate this question because I can only think of one thing.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital? For surgery, yeah

37. Have you ever built a snowman? But of course!

38. What is the color of your socks? Not wearing any? I was wearing blue ones earlier. Jfc my answers are so boring.

39. What type of music do you like? Lots! I tend to listen to indie, classic rock, and some pop

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets? Sunsets!

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? Chocolate or a variant (chocolate peanut butter, chocolate caramel)

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer) LA Rams or Seattle Seahawks. I know they’re in the same division. It’s tough. (Please don’t ask me why these teams)

43. Do you have any scars? Yep, mostly from burning myself on ovens. I simply get too excited for my food.

44. What do you want to be when you graduate? I...have graduated?

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Well bestie recently said I have “lesbian hands” and I think that’s code for man hands so maybe that hahaha

46. Are you reliable? I try to be!

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be? How many more times will I watch The Darkness before I learn my lesson? (Related: When does other bestie finally admit to her fetish?)

48. Do you hold grudges? Not typically, no

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create? A dog and an otter? Can we domesticate otters? No, a horse and a large bird, create a pegasus and then free travel.

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had? Oh god. I don’t even know where to start today tbh. Damie and pokemon and cosycon and looming and feet and [redacted] and developing apps for VP. So many fantastic conversations.

In real life, probably the time I was at a laundromat in Italy and this guy wandered in with a beer, sat next to me and my male roommate, assumed we were a couple, and proceeded to give us bizarre life advice. I wish I could remember more of it, but it was so odd.

51. Are you a good liar? Hmm I’m okay at it I think, that is, I can convince people I’m serious when I’m actually joking. But I don’t like actually lying if it’s not just teasing someone.

52. How long could you go without talking? Probably a few days if I had to.

53. What has been you worst haircut/style? The haircut I got before studying abroad! It was too short and I was so sad.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake? For a birthday? No. For fun? Absolutely.

55. Can you do any accents other than your own? Not well, no

56. What do you like on your toast? Butter and/or honey and/or jam

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of? My beautiful depiction of a scene of chapter one of Private Dancer.

58. What would be you dream car? An electric car of some sort. I don’t know enough about cars tbh

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain. Nope but sometimes I’ll play music and dance and maybe softly sing.

60. Do you believe in aliens? Yep! Definitely

61. Do you often read your horoscope? Almost never unless someone sends it to me.

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? Already answered, A

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons? Dinosaurs! 🦕

64. What do you think about babies? What do I think about them? They’re pretty cool. Just tiny little humans.

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of. I was very nice and let you correct your mistake and submit one after the fact:

In your opinion what is the best thing you can cook, like your speciality? My favorite thing to make is pasta, I started making my own sauce and I’d love to make pasta from scratch sometime.

#read up @raginage #this is what you get #responding to these out of spite took far longer than i thought lol

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currentfandomkick · 4 years

Text

Marinette did Not sign up for this part 5

so, this happened. i would feel bad, but the characters hijacked this story after chapter 1 and i’m just along for the ride and checking that words makes sense.

First part here Previous Here ao3 Here

“Hey Alya, you haven’t been getting more hits on your blog from Gotham lately, have you?” Marinette asked.

Alya rolled her eyes as honestly, could her bestie be any less obvious? She could see the “new” necklace. The one that only shows up when Multimouse is on call. Honestly—why is it everyone keeps thinking she doesn’t know who’s who? She’s the Fox—Illusions and Truth are her bread and butter.

“Now that you mention it,” Alya pulled up her latest stats. “Yes. The whole site—jeez these guys must have just found out and want the scoop from the best source in Paris,” Alya preened.

Marinette acted… different after she got that answer. Moved in on herself. Alya could feel the attempt at a cover-up before she even asked.

“Hey, is something up?”

“Nothing! Nothing is up, why would something be up! Ha, that’s a good one Alya!”

Ah, the miraculous-related tic was in full swing then. Marinette isn’t exactly the most in-the-know miraculous user, and the Mouse is always taken back after its been used. She could be forgiven for assuming Alya, the expert in all things Miraculous second only to the Original duo and their boss, would not know that something was going on in a certain spotted heroine’s life, and it was all hands on deck.

“Okay,” Alya switched to her theory notes, “Any new names to add to the ‘would not be surprised if they were Hawkmoth’ list?” Marinette is a goldmine on this topic, and while miraculous adjacent, definitely able to ease the whole ‘not in control’ and helpless feelings this situation was probably stirring in her girl. She knew it was for herself atleast.

Marinette perked up with a familiar ‘I know what you will say, but lets do this anyway’ type of sly smile. “Okay, so we do agree that it has to be someone that knows Gabriel’s schedule and doesn’t want to interfere with it for the most part, right?”

“Well,” Alya wasn’t letting this hunch go anytime soon, no matter what LB and Chat said about evidence against. She knew she was onto something with it, and for all she knew, some miraculous magic could be interfering. “I still say it could be him and Natalie taking turns, but that doesn’t rule them both out.”

Marinette shot Alya a look, of the ‘I strongly disagree, but feel it is futile to remind you why’ variety.

“I’m kidding, your boss isn’t Hawkmoth, I know… He’d totally have better designs for akumas if he was.”

Marinette leaned forward conspiratorially. “You should have seen him tear into the Bubbler one when I brought it up as an example of horrible design. His face was perfect!”

Alya would love to imagine the many, many ways to torment Gabriel after what she and Nino have come to understand about the man from their friends. Ranging from negligent and uninvolved control freak at best to manipulative, victim-blaming, and abusive POS. If Adrien and Marinette were a little less attached (re: not pedestalling the man so much), then she could get them to see the truth and they could go over the pair’s options to get them both away from his BS and make the man pay for the all the crap he put Adrien through, and was starting to put Marinette through. Why else would the girl be running herself ragged—especially the past week—if the man wasn’t a demanding asshole boss?

“That’s great, next time, get a pic or vid and share the love.”

“I will, so I met another one of his suppliers and…” Alya began to take vicious notes, glad for Marinette’s attention to detail on these things. It made looking for possible Hawkmoths much easier on her and Max—yes she knows who Pegasus and Cowboy are, Markov in a hat is still Markov in a hat. It was a wonder that no one else noticed.

Alya grinned when she saw Trixx peek out of her hiding place, a wide smile that reminded her exactly why Alya could catch everyone’s identity while her friends still hadn’t put together she’s Rena; a Fox casts illusions. To do that well, you have to learn to seek and see the truth, and get your evidence. And Alya? Is a damn good fox.

----------

Tim hates his stupid insane list of designers. He managed to knock of half by using his own damn filters, thank you very much for dominant genes from the Wayne side that could be seen visually. It knocked out a good chunk (about two thousand out of five thousand) on hair alone. He decided he would let it keep running for those that linked their socials to their psueds and aliases.

The problem was the handful (about ten) that didn’t. He’d have to meet them in person, used his glasses to get pictures, and run those against social media posts in Paris to find out who these more private designers were—all to find out if they really are in the right age range, and if their natural features do put them in the ‘likely a Wayne’ category for Wayne dominant traits (and those possible given Bruce’s own DNA makeup, which he doesn’t know Tim has. Hey, he’s the Robin that Gets Shit Done, never said he was the polite one. That’s Dick’s job, not his.)

---------

Adrien hates not having Plagg with him. Not that Tikki isn’t great and all! Really! Just… he misses him and his stinky cheese, okay?

“Adrien,” Natalie knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Natalie entered the doorway, but no further. “When is Marinette free for consultations next? we have a high end client who would like to commission her as soon as possible.”

“Give me a minute…” Adrien checked his ‘overseeing Marinette’ schedule on his phone. “Uh, she has walk-ins around four until five tomorrow.”

“Excellent. Will she be at her home or the studio Gabriel has provided for consultations?” By her tone, he could tell which Natalie and Father would prefer.

“Let me check with her.”

“See that you do.”

Adrien sent a lipstick, X arm lady, and house emoji to Marinette.

In a minute she sent back a thumbs up and apartment building emoji.

“Studio it is.”

Natalie nodded. “Excellent choice. I will let them know to be there at four ten, given Marinette’s… difficulty arriving on time.”

Adrien grimaced a bit on that as yeah… no longer having a Danger sense meant her punctuality was… not very good. “Are they speaking to Marinette or MDC?”

He’d need to know if he should just pick her up or not. MDC didn’t have to get picked up—designers to celebrities are allowed to be late and can blame it on getting caught up in a few details on a commission design for a walk-in consultation. Marinette was tied to the Gabriel Brand and needed to reflect that, therefore, be there on time and ready.

“Marinette for now, though they expressed an interest in MDC as a budding designer, and they are well within the MDC price range,” Natalie hinted.

Adrien kept the hiss growing in the back of throat quiet. Marinette chooses who MDC works with, not his Father.

--------

Stephanie is both delighted and upset when she sees Cass. As its Cass—she probably figured it out already damn it!—but its Cass and she missed her since she left a few months back for a mission and got caught up in the Chinese crime scene again.

“Hey Cass!”

Cass grinned when she saw Steph and made her way over.

“Found her!”

Stephanie was gutted. She really wanted to win, just this once, at a detective thing. You know, be the normal one that managed to out-do the prodigies and geniuses. Not to be again. “Oh, that’s great. Where is the baby bat?”

Cass shook her head. “Not her, Soup Girl.”

Stephanie opened and shut her mouth. Then lit up as she still has a chance! “Oh, right—right! You said you wanted to meet her a while back.”

Cass nodded. “Her family is nice.”

“Did you talk to her or…”

Cass shook her head. “Busy.”

“Ah.” That made sense. “Well, uh, still competing?”

Cass raised an eyebrow. That was a yes.

“Maybe we should work on helping her on the hero side of things together, you know, so we don’t freak her out when we all swarm her place. Make the whole thing a bit less…”

“Dramatic.”

Stephanie nodded. It would help ease the girl into the family, and keep Cass on that case instead of finding Baby Bat for a bit. Win-Win for Stephanie and Baby Bat.

-------------

Chatte Noire really, really hates dealing with akumas. She's built for strategy, to see tricky parts and work out how to make them safer for the team and minimize risk. She is not made to be Chatte Noire. Yet here she is, in an akuma attack, trying to play the role of a Black Cat—identify and destroy threats to the team. Problem is, she lacks Chat Noir's heightened ability to sense danger. In fact, she lacks it completely--and she knows the team isn't happy.

The attack is taking longer than it would if she was Ladybug. This would be over if she had just managed to keep her big mouth shut and not talked to Aquaman. Then the Justice League wouldn’t be involved. Then the whole promise to Murder Robin would not be broken and Paris would already be saved for the day instead of dealing with another Sandboy attack going on well into the night, with a cure that won’t be able to handle fatigue, energy renewal or relax the body for sleep post ‘I’m scared out of my mind’ fear.

She made sure to avoid this Sandboy’s attacks and she would save whoever got caught. Her Cataclysms may not be as strong as Chat’s (his do make the whole thing go away) but she is just as quick on her feet and just as good at getting civilians out of danger.

“Chatte!”

“On it Buggaboy! And not yet!”

It was too off for the Lucky Charm. They’d need Viperion, and he was stuck underwater with Aquaman trying to get him out at the moment. Until then, she just had to minimize damage, keep civilians away from their nightmares hunting them down, and keep moving and planning and work everything out while playing bodyguard for the team at Cha—At Mr. Bug’s call.

She hopes things turn out okay.

Then she sees a bat symbol and the world vanishes.

----------

Red Hood blinked when he saw some girl running around on rooftops in… Isn’t Chat Noir supposed to be the cat one? Where the hell is Ladybug—and why is some guy in her place? Shit, did the baby bat lose her miraculous or was it stolen? Damnit, now he has to steal it back for her!

“Okay, how did LB get hit when she isn’t even here?” The fox girl groaned as she dodged another attack. “Aren’t these guys supposed to go after who’s scared of them?”

The bee girl rolled her eyes. “More than just Ladybug can be terrified of the bats. They’re the Ghosts, remember?”

“Hey, can we argue about fears and who has rights to them some other time?” fake ladybug asked, flinching and moving closer to the Turtle guy. “Uh, Chatte, that way!”

Cat girl—Chatte— said something he didn’t catch and grabbed a kid stuck in a mob and bounce out.

“I—” the boy threw his hands up. “We’re screwed. She really, really isn’t getting the whole Cat thing.”

Red Hood pulled out his guns, checking that the darts were loaded and aiming for Spots.

“Chatte---guy with a gun!”

This time cat girl managed to look over and froze. She started… hyperventilating? Shit—kid’s having an attack.

Red Hood lowered his gun and made sure to get closer to her---seeing as the other heroes—Dragon girl, Monkey boy and Snake Guy were busy with the bee and fox girls trying to circle some kid on a pillow. No clue where the other kid in black was, but the cat girl losing it? that was his current focus.

“Kid, come on, breathe.”

“Oh my—” the kid looked at him like he was the threat. “Fuck, no—I shouldn’t have talked back to---shit. Shit, now I’m gonna—”

“VOYAGE!”

Just like that, Red Hood was dropped into Gotham harbor. Jason didn’t even get to look around to see what happened. He did manage to tread water and work out which was to go to get to shore.

“Oracle!”

“Jesus Hood—sending Robin to your location. What happened?”

“Some kids stole baby bats’ jewels, some akuma attack, the actual cat thief was hyperventilating and then I end up here.”

“Oh, B is not going to like this.”

“I already don’t like it.” Batman growled out over comms. “Did someone say voyage?”

Red Hood wracked his somewhat waterlogged brain. “In French, yes.”

“One of the local heroes.” Jason could feel Bruce’s annoyance. “Why were you in Paris.”

“Well,” Red Hood kept swimming to shore. “When you find out a long lost bat is in life threatening danger, one must locate and meet this possible winner of the ‘avoided having crappy parents raise me’ lottery to give a well-earned ‘congrats, you’re a well-adjusted person in a family of crimefighter! Mazel tav.”

“Hood.” Robin began on a private channel. “We need to talk.”

“Gotta go B, life to live, baby bat to find.”

“Red Hood!”

“Bye!” Red Hood climbed out of the harbor, finding his baby brother on his motorcycle that was definitely not Bruce-Approved.

“What’s up buttercup, didja miss me?”

Robin scowled at him. “Of course not, the world is more peaceful without the drivel that falls out of your mouth.”

Red Hood snorted. “Yeah, and that’s why you hide in my room all the time.”

Robin refused to make eye contact, shoving Red Hood onto his bike. “Is it true, did my sister lose her miraculous?”

“Unless she’s B and Catwoman’s lovechild and she decided to embrace it.”

Robin was quiet on the way to the cave. “…how long would it take to get the pilot to return and take me to Paris?”

“…you’d make it there around their in time for dessert.”

Robin frowned. “that’s not soon enough.”

“Closest you’ll get. And don’t’ think you’re going alone.”

Robin frowned. “I am not exposing my sister to you.”

“She’s our sister first of all,” Red Hood corrected. “and second of all, I have a bet to win, and I’m behind thanks to this portal guy. So I’m coming.”

Robin rolled his eyes. “Only if you get past Father and Alfred.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Robin smirked as they pulled into the Batcave.

“Father, I believe Red Hood needs your full attention given he was in the harbor for so long, and we all know how cold they are this time of year.”

Jason decided Damian was by and far his least favorite sibling in that moment. “Wait, B, no, look—no signs of hypothermia, no shaking, just need to change and—”

“I will check and ensure you don’t develop it with Alfred on standby.”

Jason glared at Damian, already stripping from his Robin gear with that self-satisfied smirk. “Traitor!”

“I simply want what is best for my siblings, how is that wrong?”

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I hope this gave you all a good idea of what’s going to happen next… I do love the Batfam and all, but some of their approaches here… no good and need to have that hit over their head.

And if I’m screwing up ladybats characterization, feel free to let me know so I can fix it---going off what I could find from DC fans and lore but I also do not know these characters inside and out, and want to do them justice.

OH and for anytime i refrence princess Justice, got a refrence for you now! picture the one made by @tinymelonbug right here with the only (maybe?) change being that below the cut it is cut off as a romper: Here

TAGS:

@heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace @jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #marinette did not sign up for this #part 5 #long post #ml au #my writing #how do i tag?

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Melt VII

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Alan Tracy, Scott Tracy, Gordon Tracy, John Tracy, Virgil Tracy, Kayo Kyrano, Grandma Tracy

Well we’re at the end and I have no more control over the end than I did the rest of it. Regardless, I hope you’ve enjoyed this little foray into fire and ice, and see you next week with the next sense!

Alan didn’t remember when his mother died. He didn’t remember her at all, past vague impressions and grainy old holo-footage. He didn’t remember having his own bedroom, little bigger than a cupboard; by the time he had his earliest memories, he shared a room with two teenagers determined to parent him in the place of their actual parents. He remembered nothing before the avalanche that stole her away.

He did remember the aftermath of the Zero-X, four older brothers in varying stages of Not Okay all trying to hold it together for the baby of the family. He remembered what came after, but the before was muddying more and more by the day. What colour had Dad’s eyes been, again? Old photos and holo-footage only marginally less grainy than those with Mom didn’t retain their colour. He didn’t dare ask anyone, unwilling to admit he was forgetting. Or maybe he didn’t want to face the fear that their memories were failing, too. Day by day, he remembered less and less of what had happened before the aircraft explosion that had stolen Dad away.

Scott had survived the explosion. Scott had survived the avalanche.

Memories and Not-Memories bubbled up too close to the surface. His family, grieving. Scott, always there. He’d never seen Scott grieve, for all that he knew he must have. He’d noticed John’s absence, shut up away from Earth and pain in Thunderbird Five with his hologram getting gaunter by the day. He’d seen Virgil throw dark, melancholy paints at a drab canvas, and flinch away from a too-silent piano. He’d heard Gordon screaming with bloodied knuckles in the gym, only to throw himself into the pool with a single-mindedness that scared him.

He didn’t know what Scott had done. He just knew that whenever he’d been needed, he was there. Storming Thunderbird Five with a Thunderbird Three that no longer had a designated pilot to force John to eat, breathing life into a piano until Virgil could be coaxed back to the ivory keys, towels to wrap Gordon in when he finally left the water.

Warm arms and a chest for Alan to burrow into like the scared child he’d been.

Whenever he’d needed him, Scott had been there.

Except now.

Scott was half the world away, and Alan needed his biggest brother here. Here, like Gordon, whose attempts at being normal by loudly chewing on what Alan thought might be some sort of gum were betrayed by a rarely-seen steel in the depths of his amber eyes as he watched the holoprojector.

Someone had tried to kill two of his brothers, and only one was safe.

He’d been right behind John when the truth had come out. The whole mission had been a trap, the climbers they’d faced their demons to save had tried to kill his brothers, and when they’d failed, they’d tried again.

Alan had watched Kayo’s bodycam feed as she stormed the hospital with all the fury of an avenging angel, swooping down on someone whose head shimmered with the tell-tale signs of a cloaking device.

There’d been three of them in the room. Kayo’s own brand of badassery, while always impressive, had paled in comparison to the other woman present.

Sometimes it was easy to forget that Grandma had her own steel. Kind, if a little old fashioned and definitely a nemesis of the kitchen, she was all soft hugs and comforting words. Alan had never thought to fear her before, but Kayo while might have been the avenging angel, Grandma was a fury from the very depths of hell.

Unarmed and the lone defence of her unconscious grandson, the woman that had travelled the world and made it her oyster before deigning to grace the world with one Jefferson Tracy, and then helped raise five strong-willed grandsons after him, came to the fore.

By the time Kayo had swooped in, there was only one left standing. Vaguely, Alan recalled hearing that Grandma was an actual Doctor once upon a time, before five grandsons needed her more. In a room she knew the ins and outs of explicitly, three fools who tried to take her on had no chance. Alan had only seen the results of the carnage when Kayo’s bodycam picked them up, but it was enough to give him a whole new fear of the innocent-looking equipment that sat quietly in every hospital room.

In the middle of the hurricane, Scott had been untouched. Undisturbed, even, sleeping through it all without a care in the world.

Alan really wanted his big brother. Not the one obnoxiously blowing bright green gum bubbles by his ear and chewing disgustingly loudly, or the one that had taken to scrubbing the inside of Module Two like a man possessed every spare moment he had. Not even the one sat at the desk, slumped awkwardly in the grip of gravity but unwilling to leave just yet. He wanted Scott, the one that was always there when something went wrong.

“If you’re that fidgety you can go make me a sandwich,” Gordon said with a loud smack of gum. “With extra pickles on the side.”

“Get it yourself,” he grumbled, only to be prodded with the end of a crutch. “Hey!”

“Guys,” John sighed. He sounded tired, but Alan didn’t blame him. They all knew John had been working non-stop with EOS, Kayo and Lady Penelope to get to the bottom of the attack.

For some reason, all three of the attackers, firmly entrenched in GDF holding cells, were refusing to say a word. There was the underlying fear that they hadn’t been working alone. Virgil had unearthed (unsnowed?) the weapon used to destroy the HeliPod and Parker was diligently hitting up h’old friends to trace it, but so far there had been little luck.

That was why Thunderbird Two was out on a mission to the hospital. They had hospital grade equipment, Grandma and Virgil. Every single member of the family, even MAX and EOS, had first aid training (slightly different for the non-humans, but training nonetheless). The hospital was displeased, insisting that Scott needed to be kept there for months. Months. Kayo and Grandma had overridden all of their protests.

Scott was coming home.

He wasn’t fit for transport, the hospital had protested. They didn’t even know if he was done with surgeries or if he needed still more before the burns could heal properly.

They’d lost Mom in an avalanche, and Dad to an aircraft explosion. Scott had survived both, and none of them were going to lose him to assassins, of all things. He’d be safer at home, and Grandma was confident that transporting him would not unduly stress his injuries.

In the end, it had taken a sizeable financial bribe to get the hospital to discharge him, not that the hospital would admit as such. A generous donation to their burns unit and their protests about a too-early discharge had melted away.

Not a single member of the family bothered to hide their disgust that a hospital of all places accepted bribes, even if it had made things simpler. If there was one time the Tracys would throw money around, it was a situation like this, although it was true that there was also a silent agreement between them that Scott wasn’t going to find out about this particular little bribe. He’d throw money everywhere for his brothers, but got sour when the situation was reversed.

“Seriously, Alan. Go make me a sandwich,” Gordon whined. Alan didn’t want to tear his eyes away from the hologram; Scott’s reluctance to behave himself whenever he was injured had prompted Virgil and Grandma to sedate him for the journey, to ensure he didn’t cause additional damage to himself with his usual escaping escapades, but that hadn’t stopped the three brothers still on the island from streaming Thunderbird Two’s internal camera into the middle of the den.

John had watched his uniform melt, while Gordon had tried and failed to pull him free. Alan had been kept in the dark for too long. None of them would be taking their eyes off of him until he was safe and sound at home.

No matter how much Gordon tried to throw him out of the room on the pretence of requiring a sandwich, even though he was still chewing that gum.

John didn’t intervene again, and Alan suspected he was afraid that if the staged normality was broken they’d all fall back into an oppressive silence.

Alan didn’t get Gordon a sandwich. He snatched the crutch away as it prodded him again, setting it out of reach and listening to Gordon whine about that instead until the more welcome whine of Thunderbird Two’s engines reached their ears.

All three brothers looked at each other, before moving. Alan looped under one of Gordon’s arms, John abandoning the desk to come to his other side – collecting the confiscated crutch in the process – and as one the trio made for the hangar. Slowed by Gordon as they were, although leaving him behind was unthinkable, the green Thunderbird was settled back in her place and raised clear of the module by the time they arrived.

Grandma was first out, but only just as Virgil nudged the stretcher to follow her closely. An unruly mop of dark brown hair appearing was the last straw for Alan. He left Gordon to John – one of them muttered something, but he wasn’t listening – and ran the distance, clinging to the side of the stretcher and ignoring scoldings about running in the hangar.

“Scott?” he asked, unable to touch him. His eyes were still closed, and it was impossible to miss the dressings covering both his hands and what was visible of his right side. His infallible big brother looked fragile, like one of those porcelain dolls that sat in clear view whenever Kayo left her bedroom door open (Alan always found them creepy, and she smirked whenever he mentioned it). Alan didn’t like it.

Virgil put a hand on his shoulder and he looked up at him.

“He shouldn’t be sleeping much longer,” his older brother assured him, before frowning. Alan followed his gaze and saw Gordon hobbling towards them, still supported by John. “You should have waited in the medical bay, you idiot.”

“Have you met Gordon?” a voice Alan had been waiting to hear ever since the nightmare had started asked, amused.

“I can live in hope,” Virgil grumbled, shaking his head as the final two brothers joined the gathering in the middle of the hangar. “I see you didn’t stay asleep a moment longer than you had to.”

Alan looked back down at the stretcher to see blue eyes looking back at him.

“Why would I want to sleep through this?” Scott asked, but it wasn’t Virgil he was looking at. “You okay, Alan?” Alan saw an aborted attempt at moving his arms, and gingerly wrapped his own around his biggest brother, stretcher and all.

Virgil and Grandma both made noises of disapproval, but Alan ignored them.

Mom had died in an avalanche. Dad had died in an aircraft explosion. Scott had survived both and now he was home.

“Yeah,” he mumbled into a hospital-gown covered shoulder. “I am now.”

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