#captionned the first one 'end of the road' on twitter

[kimodraw]

thought a lot abt the cw shows these past few days

#spn #supernatural #spn fanart #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #third one is abt standford sam meeting his 40 year old self and neither of them enjoying the experience #captionned the first one 'end of the road' on twitter #i think lucifer would dress himself up (as seen in the end with the unfitting white suit) hence the stupid knight boots and stuff #bc he cares abt his vassal he loves his vassal (evil grin) #wherehas michael sees dean as utilitarian. his tool. daddys blunt instrument dare i say #so he doesnt take the time to put himself in different clothes than whatever dean is wearing #also i wanted the handprint to show so #oh also second drawing . love to put sam in his moms nightgown lol #+vaguely yonic blood shape on the holy sword yeah yeah we've all seen it #OH RIGHT and lucifer's holding a morningstar bc that's what he's called sometimes idk if this is obvious or not #ok. those r all my thoughts on these. lots of thoughts. good night

[a-silent-symphony]

FLOOR JANSEN Celebrates Tenth Anniversary Of Her First Concert With NIGHTWISH

Floor Jansen celebrated the tenth anniversary of her first show as the singer of NIGHTWISH on Saturday, October 1.

Jansen made her live debut as the frontwoman of NIGHTWISH on October 1, 2012 at Showbox Sodo in Seattle, Washington following the abrupt departure of the band's lead singer of five years, Anette Olzon. Jansen officially joined NIGHTWISH in 2013.

On Saturday, Floor took to her Twitter to share a few photos of her time with NIGHTWISH, and she included the following caption: "Today it is exactly 10 years ago that I joined @NightwishBand on stage! I can't believe how fast the time has traveled since that first show USA! I am deeply grateful for all these years and want to thank the band and our crew for everything, and of course our dearest fans!"

NIGHTWISH also sent out a tweet in recognition of the anniversary, writing: "10 years and counting. On this day, ten years ago, @FloorJansen_ performed with us for the first time. For this occasion we share with you a live video of us performing Storytime over all these years, starting at our first show together."

One day after her first concert with NIGHTWISH, Floor gave an interview to the "Giel Beelen" show on the Dutch radio station 3FM in which she revealed that she was originally asked to join the band for their dates in November 2012, December 2012 and January 2013 but that plans changed following Olzon's exit in the middle of the group's North American tour.

"[On September 29, 2012] I got a text message saying, 'How fast can you come to the USA?'" Jansen recalled. "So I packed everything as quickly as I could and booked a ticket for the first plane and practiced the songs. They had already previously asked me to join them on the road for the dates in November, December and January, [so] I had been preparing for it a little bit for only one week. And since those plans changed [over the weekend], I ended up only having a few days to get ready and a rehearsal of two hours with [the songs'] lyrics in front of me."

Olzon joined NIGHTWISH in 2007 as the replacement for Tarja Turunen after the latter was fired in 2005.

As part of NIGHTWISH, Jansen landed two number one albums in Finland, and Top Five albums in Austria, France, Germany, Greece, Hungary, the Netherlands, Norway, Sweden and Switzerland.

Born in the Netherlands, Jansen joined her first band, one of the world's first symphonic metal bands, AFTER FOREVER, when she was only 16 years old. The group went on to release five albums from 2000 to 2007, before they broke up in 2009.

Jansen's next band, REVAMP, released two albums in 2010 and 2013, before she joined NIGHTWISH as a full-time member. NIGHTWISH's first album with Jansen as the lead singer was 2015's "Endless Forms Most Beautiful", which landed in Top 10s around the world. This was followed by 2020's "Human. :II: Nature." , which was also an international success.

Jansen has toured extensively with the band and appeared on three of NIGHTWISH's live albums "Showtime, Storytime", "Vehicle Of Spirit" and "Decades: Live In Buenos Aires".

In 2019, Jansen participated in the popular Dutch TV show "Beste Zangers" where she scored a big hit with "Phantom Of The Opera" together with Henk Poort. She was recognized with a Dutch Popprijs award — a prestigious accolade for artists that has made important contributions to Dutch music. In the same year, her first solo tour sold out in less than 24 hours.

#Nightwish #floor jansen #Floor 10 years anniversary #2022 news

[f1]

Lewis Hamilton steps up his recovery for Canadian Grand Prix after back trouble in Azerbaijan

Lewis Hamilton returns to running as he steps up his recovery for Canadian Grand Prix after back trouble in Azerbaijan... with 'stretching, acupuncture and cryo each day' Lewis Hamilton is going through an extreme training and recovery programme The seven-time world champion shared an image and video on social media Snaps showed the 37-year-old receiving a massage and out jogging He expects to be fit for Canadian Grand Prix despite back issues last weekend By Lewis Browning For Mailonline Published: 08:27 EDT, 17 June 2022 | Updated: 08:27 EDT, 17 June 2022 Lewis Hamilton has revealed the grueling recovery and training regime he is working through in order to be fit for the Canadian Grand Prix this weekend. The seven-time Formula One world champion had to be dragged from his car after finishing fourth in Azerbaijan last week, struggling with back issues as Mercedes continued to experience extreme porpoising with their cars. According to Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff, there had been doubts of whether the 37-year-old would be fit to race in Canada, but Hamilton has shared his new routine, which includes rounds of acupuncture, cryotherapy and stretching - as well as jogging in the rain. Lewis Hamilton shared an image of a massage from his physiotherapist, Angela Cullen Hamilton was also on a run with Cullen and Daniel Forrest as he stepped up his recovery Hamilton, who has registered just one podium finish this year from eight races, shared an image with his physiotherapist, Angela Cullen, mid-treatment with the caption: 'I'm forever grateful to have @cullen_angela with me on the road. 'I would be lost without her. We've been working each day stretching, acupuncture and cryo to recover. 'I'm feeling a lot better and today [have] been able to do my first run. Pushing through.' The Brit then posted a video of himself out jogging with Cullen and Daniel Forrest, captioned 'A Team'. The 37-year-old could be seen being helped out of his Mercedes vehicle after Sunday's race Hamilton, a seven-time world champion, is sixth in the2022 world championship table Mercedes have struggled to match the pace of Ferrari and Red Bull all year, with bouncing issues in their cars seemingly the main factor behind their decline. Hamilton relieved any worries of missing the race in Montreal with a Tweet on Sunday evening, which ended with: 'see you all next week.'  After Sunday's race in Baku, where the problem was clearer than ever, the FIA stepped in in an attempt to eliminate porpoising, which other teams have struggled with too. Hamilton seemed to suggest he wants to race next weekend on Twitter on Sunday evening A statement read: 'The FIA, as the governing body of the sport, has decided that, in the interests of safety, it is necessary to intervene to require that the teams make the necessary adjustments to reduce or to eliminate this phenomenon [of porpoising]. 'The FIA has decided to intervene following consultation with its doctors in the interests of safety of the drivers.' And whilst Hamilton's Mercedes team-mate George Russell was welcoming the comments from the governing body, Hamilton was stepping up his recovery. After finishing fourth in Azerbaijan, Hamilton said:  'There were a lot of moments when I didn't know whether I was going to make it and if I was going to be able to keep the car on track,' Hamilton said after finishing fourth. 'That was the most painful and toughest race I have experienced.' Advertisement Share or comment on this article: Lewis Hamilton steps up his recovery for Canadian Grand Prix after back trouble in Azerbaijan via Formula One | Mail Online https://www.dailymail.co.uk?ns_mchannel=rss&ns_campaign=1490&ito=1490

#F1 #Lewis Hamilton steps up his recovery for Canadian Grand Prix after back trouble in Azerbaijan #Formula 1

[sinnamonrasinslut]

The Ease With Which We Hurt [I] ICorpse Husband x Fem!ReaderI

A/N: You guys. I have never simultaneously loved AND hated a piece that I wrote. I really don’t know how I feel about this, but I promised myself last year that I wouldn’t overthink my writing, so here we are. This is part one of most likely four, but we’ll see about that. Thank you to everyone in my inbox who gave me ideas to turn this into a multi chapter fic! They’re all coming, I promise :)

SYNOPSIS: Corpse loves her, she loves Corpse. But both of them are too dumb to realize it, and too afraid to admit it. 

It started, like most good things in his life, out of the blue.

He met her three years ago. Well, not met, but befriended her three years ago when her podcast was just taking off. He remembers sending her a DM about how great her work was, remembers her being gracious in her praise of his own narrations after and he remembers talking to her well into the night until she fell asleep. The rest, to Corpse, is history.

And yet, all he knows of her is a voice, a name, and the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. she chooses to wear a mask every time they FaceTime, just for the formality of the entire ‘faceless’ situation. She’s told him she thinks it’s ironic, how she feels like he knows her inside out, and she’s still afraid to show him her face. It’s not like corpse can blame her. She doesn’t even know his name, let alone what he looks like, and it’s a miracle she hasn’t filed him away as some no face creep by this point. 

But she hasn’t. She’s still here, after three years of being her friend, and almost a year of seeing her eyes and convincing himself that she’s his friend, damnit, she’s still here. It’s already a lot more than he can ask for.

He’s been holding himself back from falling in love. Or rather, he’s been in love for as long as he can remember, but he's been adamant on denying it; because he knows how this goes. It’s never gone well for him in the past. And he’s not ashamed to admit that he’s afraid. But sometimes, she tells him things that make his heart break, just out of the realization of how absolutely fucking stupid he's being, holding back from her.

He’s convinced that when he dies, she’s going to be the light at the end of his tunnel. That heaven means nothing more to him than a place in her world, however small, however insignificant, as long as he gets to see her eyes for the rest of eternity.

Every part of corpse tells him that it's love. But he tries to push it away, suppress his own feelings till he's nothing but a walking contradiction, overflowing with voices that only say her name.

But he’s tired. And he's scared. Because he’s been down that road before, opened himself up to people who haven’t liked what they saw and left with pieces of him he’s not sure how to tape back. He’s unsure if he's willing to let her try.

So, he settles for a small corner of her world, a little piece of her existence that gives him life, and every time he talks to her, hands flailing as she animatedly tells another story, he pushes the yearning to the back of his head till it crawls down and clings to his windpipe, unsure and immeasurable, and he can’t speak anymore without choking. But then she says things that make his heart jump into his throat, and then he’s choking but for entirely different reasons.

“What would you do if I was gone?”

He doesn’t mean it like that. Well, he does, a little bit, but his brain isn’t taking over every part of his body trying to convince him he’s unwanted, so he doesn’t mean it like that. He’s only curious, maybe in need of a little reassurance. And nobody does reassurance better than her.

She doesn’t say anything for a very long moment. Corpse knows the gist of her impending answer but the pause still blooms unnecessarily in his chest. But it’s not like they haven’t done this before.

“I’d write about you.”

“Huh?”

She only huffs a laugh at his confusion. She pulls a blanket closer around her and props up her phone to rest against what he assumes is a wall.

“You’re not easy to forget, Corpse,” her voice is soft, truthful without flattery, provides comfort without justification. “if you were gone, I’d write about you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, that’s the least I’d need to cope.”

It’s not what he thought he’d hear, but it’s becoming increasingly clear to him that it’s exactly what he needed. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her. 

“Besides,” she continues, hair falling in her face as she adjusts the blanket, “there is no place for me in a world without you in it.” 

 And he physically feels his heart stop and clench in his chest. The thought of meaning this much to anyone, to her in particular, is more than he knows how to handle. So, he doesn’t follow that up with a quip, no teasing laughter, no suggestive, exaggerated winks that only he can see. He only lets himself bask in the warmth of her honesty, lets her smile at him in that way only she does, the way that makes him freeze and ache and crumble.

He chooses not to talk after that, settles for listening to her tell stories about her childhood. Her voice is the purest thing he’s ever heard, he’d hear her talk till the world ended if he could, and the sweet lilt of her voice lulls him to sleep hours after she’s hung up the phone.

He doesn’t get to talk to her for almost two weeks after that. He misses her a little, but he keeps that to himself, and instead, tags her under dumb twitter memes and sends her pictures of cats that he’s saved specifically for times like these, and another video of two geckos fighting on a tree captioned ‘u and me’ .

There’s no place for me in a world without you in it.

The words wrap around his ribs like a noose, tightening by the second. Some days, when his heart is fast enough to beat out of his ribcage, it grounds him just as much as it hurts. But when she’d said it to him, it passed through him like a train wreck, distorting all semblance of control he’d convinced himself he had.

He knows it’s ridiculous, but he loves her. She’s only a voice through his phone and eyes on his screen and he has no clue what the rest of her looks like, but he’d be damned if he lets himself deny it one more time. He loves her. And that’s the most terrifying thought he’s ever entertained.

It doesn’t take long after that realization takes root, for him to send her a picture. He doesn’t let himself think too much about it. Taking pictures of himself is still new to him, but he tries his best. Don't think about it too much, he reminds himself, and unsurprisingly, it's her voice in his head that does all the soothing. He captions it something stupid, more out of habit than anything else (my hair makes me look like Dora the exploraH), with his name across his forehead and ‘Dora’ in brackets beside it. 

Momentarily, he wonders if he’s ever asked her if she even wants to see his face. (He has, and he distantly remembers her agreeing as long as he’s comfortable with it.)

He hits send before he has the chance to stop and think. 

Then he waits. 

Her response is quicker than he’s prepared for, her name flashing across the facetime request on his phone. He’s giggling before he even picks it up. 

“CORPSE, WHAT THE FUCK!” 

For a very long moment, they just stare, taking each other in. This is his endgame, corpse thinks, he’s never going to need to show anyone his face after this, nothing, no one will matter as much. 

With a jolt, he realizes that she’s not wearing her mask. He can see her, all of her, and that on its own should be enough to take him out.

And then she smiles. 

If there was any doubt in his mind before about how head over heels he is, she’s taken it out of his mind and stomped it to the ground. He’s not the poet in this friendship, but he’s assured he could write entire paragraphs about the way she smiles. And he tells her exactly that. 

“I’m curious to see how that would fit with fine lass nice ass cat ears and she uwu,” she teases, eye twinkling with mirth, “but I'm sure you’ll figure it out.” 

He’s both amazed and amused at how quickly they go from fawning to bantering. But perhaps that’s the thing about her that feels so familiar.

“I will write a song about you baby, don’t tempt me.” 

“Is that a threat?” 

“It’s a confession,” he shrugs, suddenly shy, unsure of where to lead with this. Thankfully, she interjects before he has to say anything else. 

“That’s an awfully bold confession for a man called Corpse.”

“I’m also awfully alive for a man called Corpse, but you don’t see me complaining.” Awfully alive and not enough husband, he wants to say, but he keeps that to himself. 

“You complain about being alive everyday, Mister Husband,” she counters and Corpse groans, dropping his head into his hands. 

“I say that to you in confidence,” he grits out, playfully glazing at her.

“You also tell about a million people on stream, I’m not special,” she laughs. 

“You are very special to me.” His voice is soft, shy, almost afraid to tell her the things he’s saying, “I did say I’d write a song about you. Pretty special if you ask me.”

She hums, taking a huge gulp of water and nodding enthusiastically. 

“Correct, me, the cat girl and the e girl. What’s the next single, Corpse? Faceless Girls are ruining my life?” 

“You’re a rascal,” he chides as a familiar warmth settles around his heart, and grips. 

“It is one of my finer qualities, yes.” 

Distantly, some part of his brain registers that this is the first time he’s seen her, but there is no sense of hesitation in his head about her. It feels just like it always has, with her on the phone saying the silliest things, and him responding with equal enthusiasm. This is the way they’ve always been. 

While she talks, hands animatedly moving around, Corpse allows himself a small moment of reprieve to think. He knows he loves her, but he wonders briefly if it’s too soon to be in love with her (he concludes that probably it is, given that she remains unaware of his feelings, but he finds that it doesn’t really matter)

Because while Corpse loves her, he’s sure he doesn't know how to love her. Doesn’t know her favourite flowers even if he knows her coffee order by heart, doesn’t know her ideal date even if he’s memorized every poem she loves. 

The meanest parts of his brain tell him she deserves better, and he knows they’re wrong. But a small part of him can’t help but dwell. He’d rather have her and her unnecessary hand movements in his life as his friend than not at all. So he pushes away his feelings for another day, and just listens to her talk. 

Corpse is perfectly content with that. 

#corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband imagines #the ease with which we hurt #coco writes #friends to lovers #we love that trope in this household #if you reblog with stuff in the tags i WILL read it and cry #also if u reblog it with ur favourite part quoted i will cry #i just will cry thats a personality trait lmao #Sometiems i feel like the continuity of his chapter feels rushed #but idk i dont have the patience to fix it so i wont

[swiftgronmasterpost]

Late Stage Swiftgron Part 2 (things get loud with babe):

April 18, 2018 - Dianna posts to Instagram about “commitment issues”:

April 20, 2018 - Babe (a song that Taylor wrote in the Red era) about a lover with shall we say “commitment issues”.

Later when the Babe music video is released people (even non Gaylors) notice that it is nearly a shot for shot remake of the I’m Not The Only One music video that Dianna starred in back in 2014. 

What’s more psychotic is that the song Babe itself is only three minutes and 35 seconds long:

But the music video has had a full minute and 4 seconds to it to make it the exact same length as the I’m Not The Only One music video. I do think that this is pretty hard evidence that Dianna did step out on Taylor at some point back in 2012.  I do not think, however, that it was the chronic issue that the fandom seems to think it was.  This is the only song that appears to be about Dianna that accuses her of cheating.  The breakup songs on 1989 do not insinuate that the relationship ended due to cheating.  In fact, in Style Taylor says “I’ve been there too a few times” when it comes to being with other people.

I actually theorize that the track was not released on Red because Taylor wrote it while upset and hurt, and then they reconciled and worked it out.  I think Taylor didn’t release it at the time because she forgave Dianna for the indiscretion and they moved on from it as a couple.  I think in her heart of hearts at the time Taylor did not want to put Dianna “on blast” that way.

I think down the road in 2018 they’re obviously long broken up, and have long moved on from the slights of old and Taylor let Dianna know she was going to release the song.  Dianna’s “commitment issues” post makes it seem as if it’s a bit of an inside joke between them and Dianna is poking fun at herself and the old and forgiven incident.  At least that’s how the situation reads to me.

Taylor posts a cute video talking about the song with a cheeky smile and a heart to ig:

Another theory I’ve been mulling over is the possibility that Dianna and Taylor hooked up some time in 2018 prompting Taylor to paint herself as the other woman (as Dianna would be cheating on Winston making Taylor the other woman) in the mv.  There’s no hard evidence for it but it’s possible...

June 6, 2018 - Dianna posts a now deleted selfie and rant about how amazing KIlling Eve is (this post was deleted late summer/early fall 2020 for no apparent reason):

It’s probably a coincidence but her shirt reads, “SANS SOLEIL” which means, “without sun” in French.  Karlie is known as “sunshine” in the Gaylor Swift Cinematic Universe.

June 9, 2018 - The aforementioned Babe music video is released 

Let me show you just how similar this music video is to I’m Not the Only One:

first, you should know that YES taylor came up with the concept for the music video:

the second thing you should know is that the babe track is 3 minutes and 35 seconds long but the babe music video is 4 minutes and 39 seconds long:

you know what else is EXACTLY 4 minutes and 39 seconds long?

that’s right…the music video that she’s basically copying in the babe mv that starred dianna way back in 2014

opening shot:

kiss goodbye (at almost the same timestamp):

similar shots at the same timestamp:

and again:

and again (these are also basically the stills used for the mv before you click play):

both women driving at the same fucking timestamp (y’all taylor swift is insane holy shit):

in the store shopping at the same fucking timestamp no she is literally unwell someone get her into a facility now:

cheating happens at the same timestamp (seriously tay get help✌️):

here’s another similar shot of my babies at the same timestamp;

cheating husband coming home, same timestamp:

very similar shot of the husbands walking up to the door at the same fucking timestamp (i get it taylor you’re laughing at us from the prison cell now):

similarities that happen at different timestamps

wifey drinking out by the pool:

wifey fiddling with ring:

cheaters drinking it up together:

wifies drinking it up as well (several times both in the mv):

wives do away with the husband’s clothes (Dianna burns them while jennifer dumps them outside in the front lawn):

Pretty much the only thing that’s different about the music videos is the ending.  the babe cheater gets dumped while dianna takes her cheater back but ofc we know how taylor likes to change the endings (like she did with love story) or at least to try to change the ending (peter losing wendy).

July 13, 2018 - Taylor visits home and posts to IG with the lyric from style “Take me home” as the caption:

Taylors on the Rep tour and we get this series of surprise songs I consider to be Dianna songs:

“Ours” - Foxborough, MA July 28th

“Out of The Woods” - Toronto, Canada August 3rd (Karlie’s birthday)

“Come Back… Be Here”- Toronto, Canada August 4th (august 4th 2014 Taylor wears one of the Style mv outfits)

“This Love” - Atlanta, Ga., Aug. 10

These shows are all in succession I think it could be a coincidence or perhaps Taylor’s reaction to Karlie’s engagement announced on July 24, 2018...

August 25, 2018 - Karlie shows up to rep tour in Nashville and Taylor plays Better Man 💀

August 31, 2018 - secret song is Swiftgron “Begin Again”

February 24, 2019 - Swiftgron reunion? at the Vanity Fair Oscar Party both Dianna and Taylor are there and they both post to Instagram about it(Dianna posts two days later):

She also comments to a friend that they stayed out until 3AM.

Taylor’s post:

March 7, 2019 - Dianna sees Fleabag at SoHo House:

April 9, 2019 - Dianna posts with a caption about being 13 years old, unrequited love, and 143 in reference to the show Pen15:

June 14, 2019 - Taylor adds “Woman” by Mumford and Sons to her ME! playlist - the song is rumored to be about Dianna written by her (now ex) husband Winston Marshall:

September 7, 2019 - Taylor is noted to be at a Fleabag performance in London at the at Wyndham Theater.

September 23, 2019 - Dianna posts about Phoebe Waller Bridge (who wrote Fleabag, and EPs Killing Eve among other things):

October 5, 2019 - SNL!!!!! - Taylor is the musical guest on SNL while Phoebe Waller Bridge hosts and DIANNA IS IN ATTENDANCE with a VIP guest pass (can only be granted by a cast member, host, or musical guest) and also noted to be “in Swift’s inner circle” at the afterparty:

Taylor performs Lover:

And with huge lesbian energy she also performs False God:

(if it weren’t for DIanna showing up at SNL I probably wouldn’t have even gotten interested in Swiftgron so you have this holy night to thank for my blog @swiftgron-get-married​ as well as this timeline!)

A blog contributor reached out to someone (non-biased, I know some Kaylors reported that DIanna was there for PWB but that isn’t what this person said) who was at the performance on Twitter and this is what they had to say about the night:

“Dianna was definitely paying attention”

Other fan reports state that Dianna made a face when Taylor sang “magnetic force of a man”:

December 13, 2019 (Taylor’s 30th Birthday) - Dianna adds the song Got It Bad (which is an incredibly sensual song) to a Playlist entitled T 2017 on her private spotify account Some time in late 2019/early 2020 - Ashley (re)follows Dianna on Instagram February 2020 - Dianna and Taylor are both in London at the same time

Click here to keep reading!

[gamergirl929]

She Was A Skater Girl (Tobin Heath x Reader)

Anonymous Request: Heyy, just loved it your new imagine with tobin and i know your requests are closed, so maybe when you have time, could you write one with tobin and skater!reader?

The breeze was relatively nice considering it was so humid out, but you didn’t care, all that mattered was that your skateboard was beneath your feet.  

Portland streets were busy at this time, a number of people on their morning commutes, everyone rushing to get to work.  

All that rushing, luckily for you, hadn’t been a big deal for you, but sadly, it was ABOUT to be.

“HEY!” Someone shouts, your eyes widening when someone lays on their horn. 

You attempt to screech to a halt, but you quickly realize you can’t do so fast enough.

You instead fling yourself backwards off your board and land back first on the road with a violent thud, watching as the woman's car flies towards the intersection.

You watch sadly as your board rolls in front of the fast-moving car, being crushed by its tires as it flies by, the woman not even stopping to check on the person she'd just nearly ran over.  

You wince in pain, resting your head on the road beneath you.  

“Are you okay!?” A woman asks, dropping down on the ground beside you and you groan.  

“No...” You grimace as you sit up, yelling down the road where the woman had driven off.  

“YOU BITCH! THAT WAS MY ONLY BOARD!” You scream at the car as you rub the back of your head, your head that’s covered in a hot sticky fluid you realize is your own blood.  

You hadn’t even remembered hitting your head. 

“Ow. Shit.” You grimace, your eyes fluttering closed.  

“Keep your eyes open, an ambulance is on the way.”  

The woman’s soft voice makes your eyes flutter open, your brows furrowing as you look a the woman hovering above you, your eyes widening.  

“Holy shit, you’re Tobin Heath.”  

You, again, sit up, your vision dotted with black spots as your head starts to spin. 

“Here, lie back.” Tobin says again, this time your head meeting something soft instead of the hard concrete.  

You turn to her with a smile.  

“You’re really pretty.” You murmur, groaning at the pain in your head, missing the noticeable blush on Tobin’s cheeks.  

“Wait!” You yell, trying to sit up again. 

“Where’s my board?” You whine, your vision blurring as someone comes into view, carrying the two pieces of your board. 

“That was my only board.” You whine louder.  

“I think you need to worry more about your head right now.” Tobin guides you back down, the woman grimacing when she sees blood coming out of your ear.  

“Just, don’t move okay?” She places a hand on your chest and you hum.  

“I’ve had that board forever.” You pout, Tobin shaking her head.  

“A board can be replaced.”  

You shake your head.  

“Not that one, it was the only board I had when I started making vids.” You sigh, glancing at the woman. 

“You know some things can’t be replaced.”  

The sound of sirens makes your head ache and you grimace.  

“Why are they so loud?” You mumble and Tobin winces.  

“You took a pretty hard hit.”  

Tobin frowns when you start to mumble, words slurring into an incoherent mumble.

“Get my board, yeah?” You slur the forward nodding as EMTs rush your way, surrounding you.  

Tobin is able to get the two halves of your board before she’s back at your side, frowning as EMTs get you onto a backboard, incoherent mumbles leaving your open mouth.  

Though what Tobin CAN make out is her name, before you fall silent, losing consciousness.  

                                                          ***

The first thing you feel when you regain consciousness is pain, a throbbing pain in your head that makes you grimace, the insistent beeping of a machine nearby making you growl.  

“Damn.” You murmur as you shift, your back aching from the impact of slamming to the concrete.  

“Hey.” You hear a familiar voice, your brows furrowing as your eyes crack open.  

“Have you seen my board?” You ask, Tobin snorting as she nods to the corner of the room where your broken board is resting.  

“Did they find the driver?” You yawn, Tobin shaking her head as she moves to sit in the chair beside your bed.  

“No, but they’re looking.” She frowns and you growl.  

“She owes me some compensation for my board.”  

Tobin snorts.  

“You remember she almost killed you, right?” She asks and you shrug.  

“Yeah, maybe.”  

Tobin shakes her head, eyes widening when she hears a familiar voice.  

“Holy shit, you didn’t tell me the skateboarder was fucking Y/N Y/L/N.” The blonde squeals and you wince, your head throbbing.  

“THE Emily Sonnett knowns ME? Fucking sick.” You grin.  

“Wait... You know her?” Tobin points at you and smirk.  

“WELL YEAH. Emily snorts. “This is Y/N Y/L/N one of the best influencers on Insta.” Emily claps her hands giddily, frowning when she sees your board in the corner, completely snapped in half.  

“Aww, no...” She frowns, walking towards it, taking the two halves in her hands.  

“You’re an influencer?” Tobin asks, brown orbs wide and you nod.  

“So that’s what you meant by videos earlier.”  

You nod.  

“Tobin? Are you in here?”  

Your eyes widen when Christen Press rounds the corner, the forward’s green orbs widening when she sees you.  

“Y/N Y/L/N is the skater from this morning!?” She stares at you in awe and you snicker.  

“Seriously? You know me too?” You ask, the forward nodding in excitement.  

“Chrissyyyyyyy!” Emily whines holding the two halves of your board up with a pout.  

“Oh no...” She frowns, turning back towards you. “Sorry about your board, are you okay?”  

You shrug.  

“It’s okay, could be worse I guess... And I have no idea, no one’s told me.”  

Just as the words leave your mouth, a woman in a white lab coat walks in, smiling softly.  

“Good afternoon Ms. Y/L/N, how are you feeling?” She asks as she checks the machines next to your bed and you grimace.  

“Not great doc, not great.”  

“I imagine so, you’ve got a skull fracture.” Your eyes widen, as do Tobin, Emily and Christen’s.  

“Does that mean I can’t skate?” You ask, Tobin turning to you with wide eyes.  

“No, you can’t.” She growls and you huff.  

“Why not?”  

You stiffen.  

“Wait, where’s my phone?” You ask, glancing around the room, frowning when you see it too by your board, shattered.  

“How will my followers know what happened?” You pout and Emily hums, looking at her own phone.  

“Apparently they already do.”  

Emily passes you her phone, your eyes narrowing as you read the screen.  

Influencer Y/N Y/L/N involved in an accident in Portland, Oregon

You scroll further down the page.  

Y/N, Instagram Influencer injured in a near hit and run collision in Portland, Oregon

You shake your head.  

“Well now I have to let my followers know I’m okay.” You shake your head. “Leaving them on a cliffhanger like this is some damn ABC TV show.”  

Tobin shakes her head, passing you her phone.  

“Here.”

You put your palms together, ducking down as you bow to her.  

“My hero.”  

Needless to say, the second you’re logged into Insta you go to post, taking a picture of yourself, noticeable scuff marks on your face.

You type a quick caption, your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth as you focus on posting, missing the small smile that stretches across Tobin’s face. 

“I’m sure you guys have seen the news about the accident, I’m okay, but they still haven’t caught the driver.”

You frown, glancing at your broken board.  

“Doc says I have a skull fracture and my back is pretty messed up... Unfortunately, she ran over my board, so I won’t be skating for a while, mostly because of the skull fracture, but whatever, I’ll keep you guys updated.”  

You glance around the room, smiling when you see Christen, Emily and Tobin sitting around, Emily still pouting over your broken board.  

“I’d like to thank, Tobin Heath, yes, USWNT forward Tobin Heath, for helping me after the accident as well as Christen Press and Emily Sonnett for coming in for a visit, mostly for Tobin, but still, FUCKIN’ SICKKKKKK.”  

You make the post and make your way to Twitter to make a similar post, quickly realizing you’re trending on Twitter.

“I’ve only ever trended twice on Twitter, once for skating in a mall down the escalator and running from security, and now.” You sigh.  

“Awesome.”  

You pass Tobin her phone back, smiling softly as the woman grins.  

“I really have to thank you for being there for me this morning. If it wasn’t for you, I probably would’ve chased after her.” You snort, Tobin throwing her head back with a laugh.  

“I don’t doubt that.”  

You smile your eyes searching Tobin’s face.  

“Still, I really appreciate it.”

Emily and Christen share a glance, the two smiling as you and Tobin simply stare at one another with lightly flushed cheeks.  

You lean back, rubbing the back of your head, groaning loudly.  

“You okay?” Christen asks and you whine.  

“My boarddddddddd...” You pout, Tobin shaking her head.  

Emily takes your board and brings it to the bed, handing you the two pieces.  

“Maybe, ummmm, tape?” She suggests, shrugging and you shake your head.  

“I don’t think it’ll work this time.”  You frown as you examine the splintered wood. “Well, it didn’t work LAST time to be honest, I ended up breaking my leg.”  

“You have a lot of accidents, don’t you?” Tobin teases and you roll your eyes.  

“Accidents are a huge part of skating.” You smirk.

“But when you finally hit the move it’s so fucking sick.” You nod with a grin, remembering how you’d landed the trick after your leg had healed, on a solid, break free board.  

“Wait, you didn’t trend when you skated off that condo’s roof?” Emily asks and you shake your head, the woman scoffing.  

“That’s dumb, and it wasn’t even your house!”  

Tobin watches you and Emily talk intently about your past tricks and run ins with the law, the woman smiling when you let out a belly shaking laugh, that laugh making you wince, your back and head throbbing.  

The more you talk, the more Tobin notes that your eyelids start to flutter as you visibly fight off sleep.  

Tobin shakes her head.  

“You should rest.” She whispers and you grunt.  

“I don’t want to...” You pout, earning an eye roll from the forward.  

“Well you need to.” She says, eyes narrowed and your eyes widen.  

“She’s right.” Christen says as she moves to her feet.  

You huff, sending Tobin a mock glare.  

“Fine. Fine.”  

Tobin is about to turn away when you catch her wrist, the woman turning to look at you thoughtfully.  

“I-I want to thank you, I really appreciate you helping me today, and uhhhh, coming here with me.” You shrug bashfully, cheeks dusted pink.  

“It meant a lot to me.”  

Tobin smiles, covering your hand with her own.  

“It was the right thing to do.” She says, her own cheeks flushing. “And I was worried.”  

Your tired eyes widen, your cheeks flushing darker at the thought of the woman worrying about you.  

Christen's green orbs dart between the two of you before she clears her throat, pulling the two of you out of your trance.  

“Uhhh....” Tobin starts, the woman clearing her own throat. “I’ll call to check on you later, okay?” She says and you nod, letting out a yawn.  

“S-Sounds good.” You say as you tiredly wave at Emily and Christen.  

“It was great meeting you all, still can’t believe I met you guys.” You yawn.  

Moments after the words leave your mouth you doze off, Emily, Christen and Tobin watching you with small smiles, Tobin’s cheeks still flushed.  

The forward turns around, eyes widening when she sees the looks on Emily and Christen’s faces.  

“What?” She gripes, glancing over her shoulder at you once more before she moves out of the room, her two teammates on her heels.  

“Why are your cheeks red Toby?” Emily teases, and Tobin growls.  

“They aren’t.” She dismisses her and Christen snorts.  

“Yes, they are.”

Tobin growls louder, practically sprinting away from the two of them, Christen and Emily giggling.  

“How much do you want to bet she’ll come back to visit her?” Emily smirks and Christen nods.  

“Oh, she will.”  

                                                          ***

Much as the two had anticipated, Tobin had come back to the hospital, though this time, she had a gift, something she knew you would love.  

Christen had agreed as well, of course, teasing Tobin about heading back to the hospital to see you.  

Tobin had of course brushed her off, but in all honesty, Tobin had felt something when she met you, that twisting in her gut, her heart lightening in her chest.  

She wanted to know more about you, and she’d been lying if she hadn’t spent most the night learning about you, as well as watching your videos and looking at all your posts.  

In fact, she’d lost sleep because of it.

That didn’t matter to her though, what mattered was learning more about you, and what she learned was that you were a shy, yet charismatic and bold person. 

A woman who’d taken up skating at a young age and had even caught the eye of famous skaters like Tony Hawk, among others.  

You were kind hearted, someone that anyone who looked at your images and videos with kids could see, as well as anyone who’d read or watched any of your interviews. 

You were humble about your fame, and the way you talked told Tobin you didn’t really care for the fame, you just wanted to do what you loved, and that was skate.  

The closer she gets to your hospital room, the more her nerves rile up, the woman nervous about seeing you again.  

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t notice the way your eyes shined when you talked about skating, the way your smile brightened when talking about it and the way you’d ramble shyly during interviews.  

Tobin comes to a stop in front of your hospital room,  the woman curtly nodding to herself, gathering her courage before she knocks on the door.  

Tobin frowns when she gets no response, the woman peeking through the gap in the door to see you’re fast asleep, mouth hanging open as you snore softly.  

She pushes into the room quietly, tip toeing to the bed, the woman grinning when you grumble in your sleep.  

“Maybe I should come back later...” She mumbles to herself, ready to turn around and leave, that is, until your eyes flutter open tiredly.  

“Toby?” You rasp, voice rough from sleep, as you stretch, not even realizing that you’d called Tobin, Toby.  

“Hey.” She moves towards the bed with a smile, smiling at the bleary look on your face.  

“Am I dreaming?” You ask, yawning.  

Tobin snorts.  

“No, you’re not.”  

You grin.  

“SO, that means you came back to see me?” You give her a charming smile and she rolls her eyes, sitting in the chair beside your bed.  

“I guess I did.” She grins and you smirk.

“Couldn’t get enough of me?” You ask cockily and she hums.  

“Oh I’m getting there.” She teases and you grin, brows furrowing when you see the box resting in Tobin’s lap.

“What you got there?” You ask curiously, the forward grinning.

“It’s for you.”

You blink rapidly, brows furrowing.

“Wait, for me?” You say, the woman nodding.  

You shake your head.  

“You didn’t have to buy me anything...” Your bottom lip trembles as Tobin slowly opens the box, your eyes wide when you see its contents.  

“I didn’t. I made it.”  

Your eyes go glassy, mouth agape as you stare at the board Tobin holds up, the skate board covered in a mosh of colors, the bottom colored in exactly the same way.  

“Wait... This is...” You brush your thumbs along the smooth board.  

“This is A Popsicle Skateboard...” You whisper, turning to her with a trembling bottom lip.  

Tobin smiles, reaching for and placing a hand on the board beside your own.  

“Actually, it’s not just a Popsicle Board...” She grins. “It’s the original.”  

Your eyes widen, a lump forming in your throat as you scan the board again, though, this time your hand slides down the board, your fingertips brushing Tobin’s.  

“A-Are you sure?” You whisper, the forward smiling softly, surprising you and herself when she pushes your fingers apart, her fingers intertwining with yours.  

Your cheeks flush, your eyes darting from your tangled finger to Tobin’s face, back and forth until your eyes again lock with Tobin’s brown orbs, her cheeks dusted pink.  

Her lips split into a grin.  

“I’m sure.”  

#uswnt x reader #tobin heath x reader #tobin heath imagine

[simpsiren]

nakamoto yuta x reader

description. One day, out of pure boredom or perhaps without even thinking, I decided to airdrop memes to random iphone users in the bus. How dumb was I to think that I wouldn’t get caught.

genre. urm internet au(?) i really don’t know what genre to call this tbh

word count. 1.3k~

warnings. none!

a/n. literally got this idea while i was actually doing it with a friend LMAO i srs thought my experience was funny and wanted to write to so here i am! hope you’ll enjoyy

“I’m seriously drained.”

Lucas and I were walking from the gates to the bus stop. Taking the shorter route, we dragged our weak bodies up a hill to get to the traffic light where the bus stop was opposite the road.

“Chemistry did it for me.” I muttered. I noticed how both our bodies were slouching so I decided to bring my body up straight for a quick moment to stretch out my back. “The amount of homework Mdm Lim gave us I swear.”

We finally reached the bus stop. You could say that using the shorter route served us no good since we missed the bus and had to wait for more than ten minutes for the next one to arrive.

We tapped in. The bus was a double decker so we decided to climb the stairs to the upper deck. Lucas was the first to climb up and went for the seats at the very front. “Why did you have to pick the space where the most amount of sunlight is hitting us? I’m burning here.” I complained.

I wasn’t feeling hot, it’s just the huge amount of sunlight coming through the glass that made me had to close my eyes in shock and turn my head where Lucas was sitting behind me.

“Well jeez sorry.” Lucas frowned, rolling his eyes. I shrugged and turned my whole body sideways so I wouldn’t have to face the sunlight that much, proceeding to unlock my phone and go to my gallery where I started looking through the videos that Lucas and I took in school. Specifically, during class when it was our free period and we had nothing better to do than to record ourselves doing nonsensical things.

I played the video and tried to suppress my laughter while watching, Lucas doing the same as he watched from behind. “Send me that video.” Lucas urged me, tapping my shoulder. I giggled and nodded my head. I tried sending the video but it failed due to the file being too big. I groaned, thinking how I wasted three minutes of waiting just to not get it sent.

“I thought you’d airdrop it to me. It’s quicker you know.” Lucas deadpans. I glared at him, not wanting to admit that it was indeed a better idea than what I did. “Okay, okay. Hold on.” I let out a ‘tsk’ and proceeded to airdrop. When I was about to click his iPhone’s name, I realised that other people’s bluetooth were on as well, meaning that I could airdrop to them.

I immediately turned to Lucas, who backed his head at my sudden action. “What?” He looked at me curiously.

“What if I airdrop something to strangers?” A smirk slowly creeped up my lips out of instinct. Lucas gave me a blank expression, but ended up copying mine a little while after. “Let’s try.” Lucas whispered. The two of us chuckled and in unison, we began finding for memes or random pictures to airdrop to strangers.

I found a meme that I just saved from Twitter and started to click on every name I saw that I could airdrop to. One of them was named ‘daddyyoongi’ which I found weird, but not shocked at all. It took awhile for them to respond, the word ‘waiting’ constantly flickering below their names.

I peeked at Lucas’s phone, who was still scrolling through his gallery to find something to send. “Did anyone respond?” Lucas looked up at me when he realised my eyes were on his phone. Downshifting back to my phone, my eyes widened, instantly bringing my phone close to Lucas’s face.

“They accepted.” I whispered. Lucas and I had the same expression and same thought. Are we seriously doing this right now? I read through their names since I didn’t bother to look at them when I sent. ‘yutaro; prince of osaka’

“Is he some kind of anime fan or something?” I thought to myself. Looking at the other iPhone names, I could tell that they were girls. I couldn’t really assume who yutaro was.

Seconds later, I received an airdrop from yutaro. Accepting it, I took a look at the photo. It was a meme. I couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh as the caption read, ‘Hello 911 im being attacked’

I wasted no time to find a meme to respond back. It was a spongebob meme with the caption. ‘(chuckles) I’m in danger.’ And proceeded to airdrop it to them.

“I can’t belive this.” Lucas whispered from behind. I could tell he’s seriously trying to stop himself from bursting in laughter. I’d be doing the same. The other iPhone users that I sent to didn’t reply, only accepting my airdrop. Though I was disappointed, at least I had yutaro who airdropped me a new meme in a matter of seconds. I slapped my thighs softly, covering my mouth when I accepted the airdrop.

Lucas surpressed his laughter once again. “Oh my fuck I’m such a genius.” I praised myself, breathing heavily to get myself to calm down and keep my cool so that no one in the bus would find us weird and suspect us as their secret airdroppers.

Yutaro and I airdropped memes. Some were random, while the rest were sent as if we were having a conversation. Which I found it to be personally fun. It was getting way too difficult to hide my laughter. Lucas told me he gave up trying to send since they weren’t responding and peeked at my phone.

The bus came to a halt and I realised that were at the bus interchange. I waited for the people from the upper deck to go out first, making a trying-to-not-look-weird kind of eye contact with each of them as they went down the flight of stairs. Lucas and I finally got down and tapped out. I looked through the memes that I received, finally the two of us bursting into laughter.

“You actually had a conversation with that yutaro person! I seriously can’t believe it!” Lucas shouted, shoving his hands into his pockets. I laughed, smacking his arm. “We should actually do that more often. Who knows, we might make friends.” I said, bobbing my shoulders as I bounced on the ball of my feet with each step.

Suddenly, I felt a presence coming from behind that got closer. Weirded out, I turned my head back. Looking over my shoulder, my eyes were met with a guy’s. He was leaning down to match my eye level. He had grey or ashy hair, but his roots were jet black. His face... was incredibly beautiful. His features, from his dark black eyes to his soft looking lips and clean face, not to mention is sharp jawline. I only met eye contact with him for a mere second. But his imagine was printed onto my mind.

“You do that often?” He suddenly whispered, soft enough that he had to lean in as he let out a chuckle and speed walked forward, passing Lucas and I. I got to shocked that it made me stop walking. I was in a trance. I couldn’t keep my eyes off his back, his hair that bounced in the wind that made me think it was light and fluffy.

“Why’d you stop?” Lucas was a few steps in front of me when he realised I was behind and went back to me. My mouth gaped opened slightly. I flinched when my phone dinged. Lifting my phone up to my face, I noticed that it was a notification that yutaro wanted to airdrop me something. Accepting, it took me to my gallery where the picture sent was shown.

“Nakamoto Yuta?” Lucas said it out loud for me before I could even read. It showed his twitter account with the caption ‘constantly flying between Japan and Korea’ with the aeroplane emoji beside it. I looked up, despite knowing that his figure already exited from my view.

I looked at the screemshot of his account. I noticed that the latest tweet he posted, which was just a minute ago stated, ‘text me ;D’

Lucas gasped at this. “You got caught.”

if you’re wondering what some of the memes were 👀

#nct x reader #nct #nct 2020 #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct ff #nct fluff #nct imagine #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct yuta #yuta x reader #yuta #yuta scenarios #yuta imagines #nakamoto yuta #yuta nakamoto x reader #yuta nakamoto #nct yuta nakamoto #yuta nakamoto scenarios #nct yuta x reader #nct fanfic

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Umm maybe one with Cal (obvi lol) where he randomly posts you. Maybe you've been dating for 3 years and they only see blurs of your face or the back of your head when you go see him or go to events with him. And its a long ass caption about how you're that BITCH and he loves you so much. And then you see and are like "bro wtf" and you ask him about and he shrugs it off and says he wanted to world to see his world

So, I’m a whole dumbass and accidentally deleted the first draft of this. But I managed to save it, even though I have the memory of a goldfish. I hope you enjoy. 

Take a gander at my masterlist!

Reader Insert. No specific race, gender, or sexuality! 

__________________________________

Gratitude

Calum’s body is sprawled across yours. His head is on your chest. His arms are wrapped around you, meeting at your back, hugging you like a child clutches onto their favorite stuffed animal. But it’s you. And you are no stuffed animal. Your fingers lightly drag through the blonde but turning brunette strands. They’ve started to curl in around each other. You wonder if he’s ever going to ask you to cut his hair, if you guys will join the cull of people in desperate times. He has clippers and guards under the sink. It’s not like he hasn’t resorted to the buzz at home before. You’re not going to push it though. There’s enough to worry about as it stands. 

There’s promotion before the album’s release and now after too. There are interviews at all times of the day it seems. There was shooting at home for the ‘Wildflower’ music video. If it’s not something he brings up, you’re definitely not going too. There’s plenty already to worry about. Maybe even too much to worry about. But you’re glad that Calum’s found a moment to rest. It’s evaded you though, for the moment and for the last couple of days if you’re honest. Even with a pretty consistent sleep schedule, you still find your mind racing. Like there’s not plenty of time for that during the day. 

Reaching up, you grab your phone from the edge of the back of the couch, right on the ledge. You placed it there not worried about it falling, when Calum first collapsed into you. You figure there’s nothing wrong, for the moment, to expose yourself to some blue light and social media. It all feels like a fog though. Twitter is nothing but the same memes, the same ads, the sameness of everyone ghosting into a void where sometimes the void echoes back. And down and down you go, liking some tweets here and there, but to no avail to find any real distractions. Occasionally, you snort at a meme, but it’s just a quick chuckle. 

You turn to Instagram. You’re bound to have the same results, something so mind numbing it can’t even numb anymore. And as the app loads, you watch all the people with icons shuffling across the top of the screen. You tap on the first one and let it cycle all the way through, before repeatedly tapping through them. You pause at ones that look interesting, watching them all the way through. One hand drifts back down to Calum’s head, scratching ever so lightly at his scalp. He burrows deeper into you, squeezing you in his arms just a little. 

Swiping away from the stories, you scroll the posts and not even three posts down, you notice the photo of yourself. Then you see Calum’s account as the culprit. It’s of your silhouette mostly as you twirl under streetlights. You remember then the photo was snapped. Just eight months into your relationship and you had been given a promotion at work. Calum wanted to celebrate by grabbing a quick treat from your favorite bakery. It was late and you felt like being a little fancy, and stopped by a bar just to grab one drink. One celebratory drink. And as the two of you exited, rain started to fall. Rain in L.A. isn’t too common and you had to bask in the moment, just for a moment, since it was so light. So you started laughing as you spun around the sidewalk. You hadn’t even noticed Calum snapping the photo until you saw it as his homescreen two weeks later. 

There are several blue dots at the bottom of the picture. So you swipe left. This photo is of you, too, but your face is mostly hidden by Duke’s body, just a portion of your forehead and eye visible because of the angle. It had to be from a year or so into the relationship given the style and length of your hair. And you nearly laugh at yourself for thinking that a year was so early on, now that you’re three years into this. But god, it really was early on. Now you can’t picture your morning routine without Calum being grumpy and without Duke whining to be let out and Calum pouting that Duke’s steals all your attention. You always rectify the pouts with two kisses to his forehead and never less than those two kisses either. 

Taking a quick moment, you look around for the old man and spy him curled up at the end of your feet. And you have to grin. He’s never too far from Calum at all when Calum’s home. You turn your attention back to your phone and swipe again. The next photo is of half your face. A little blurred thanks to Calum’s shaky hands and questionable photography skills. But you can tell, thanks to the grass below and the wristband this was from the Coachella adventures. You swipe again. It’s your full face, hidden by some shadows as you laugh from the top of the ladder. From the ventures of painting the bedroom again, it was nothing drastic but still, took you and Calum two days to finish the painting. As you swipe again, there’s one last photo, of you three days, grinning hard into the camera while leaning against the kitchen counter. You were just waiting for the water to boil and listening to a podcast before starting dinner. You noticed Calum coming into the kitchen and when he mumbled for you to look up at him, you saw the phone and smiled as hard as you could. 

As time goes on, things get clearer. Being with you just makes sense. And I know when you see this, you’ll probably be a little mad. Duke, I’ll need to share that bed with you. I can only hope it’s big enough.  I’m not sure why it’s hard to say to you right now, face to face. You’re just on the couch and I’m just at the kitchen table. And I know, I’m a pretty private guy. But something about being with you just makes sense, so much damn sense. It’s just been us, when the road got narrow and when it was all too easy to walk, hell, maybe even run along, we still had each other. No relationship sails smoothly and no planes out there that’s ever flown doesn’t hit some turbulence. Every time though, we’ve come out stronger and together still. There’s no important date for this, the 3rd anniversary has come and gone, but there seems like no better time to say thank you. So, thankyou. Thankyou. Thankyou.  

You don’t realize there are tears until one slips down your cheek and splashes onto the phone screen. Your inhale is shaky and you’re trying to swallow down the sobs. They still come through, like coughs from your chest and you’re sure you’re trembling. Calum feels you shaking, squeezing again unsure if you’re moving out from underneath him. “Five more minutes,” he mumbles, readjusting the position of his head. 

He doesn’t miss the sniffle though and when he sits up, eyes admittedly still puffy with sleep, and sees you with one hand over your mouth and tears streaking your face, he panics. “Baby? What the hell happened?” He’s cupping your face, wiping at the tears and soon, he’s sitting completely up, and against the couch cushions. You pull your leg out from behind his body. Calum waste no time to tuck you up into his arms, chin resting on the top of your head. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here for you.”

“I saw the post,” you manage to get out, now able to control the emotions racking through you. 

His grip slackens. You hear the rumble of his soft laugh. “So is the couch cushions my source of warmth tonight?”

You have no problem with Calum posting photos. You just hadn’t expected him to post something like that. Pushing up to your knees, you gently cup his cheek. He reciprocates the tender hold. “No, I was just shocked that’s all. Came out of left field.” His thumb clears away the stray tears and yours just gently brushes along the stumble that’s started to prick through his skin. 

“I just love you, that’s all. And we’ve been together for three years and I can see three more together, and three more after that. And three more after that. And three more after that. And three more after. And hell, twenty after that. Just wanted the world to see my world.”

“Calum Thomas, you’re so fucking cheesy, but goddamn do I love you.” He gives a quick smile before you capture his lips, hands cupping both cheeks. And soon you trail them up his nose, kissing between his brows, over each eye and then kissing twice on his forehead. 

-H

#calum hood #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #calum hood fluff #calum hood x reader #calum hood x reader insert #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #asks #answered #h writes #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer imagine #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin #calum 5sos

[softkuna]

playlist

›  𝚋𝚘𝚔𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚔𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘

› 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚢. 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜. 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚜. 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝.

›  𝟸𝟷𝟿𝟻𝚔

You had a shit day. You got pegged in the face with a volleyball so hard, you could practically taste the concussion as you sprawled backwards. Luckily, the medic ok’d you to keep playing. Unluckily, the whole ordeal happened right in front of a pro team’s scouting manager. The embarrassment alone made you want to hide under a rock until next season. To make it all sting just a little bit more, Bokuto and Kuroo had their own games to attend, so it wasn’t like you could curl up in Kuroo’s dorm like you might’ve before. Bokuto was only in town for a few days, too, and you were certain he’d be practicing or playing the whole weekend. So instead, you sigh as you walk onto the train by campus, shooting a text to the tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum.

🗨️We lost :( I think I broke my nose. And my careeeeeeer

  Bokuto’s fingers rapid-fire replied, followed my Kuroo’s more casual pace.

  🗯️BROKEN NOSE?!! ARE YOU OK???

🗯️Wait how did u lose? Aren’t they good luck????

💬That’s a broken leg, bruh.

💬Sorry babe. You’re not concussed, though, right?

🗨️I’m fine ^^” just pulled a hina

🗯️Hows a broken leg good luck? U cant play on that THAT SHIT HURTS 😱 😱

🗨️👀 👀 👀

🗨️Bo pls

  As you sat on the train, you quietly snorted to yourself. Bokuto was an amazing player and an even better boyfriend, but sometimes you thought his muscles squeezed out a braincell or two.

💬Saw the clip on twitter. hows your face? I’m sure its still hot

  You scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Kuroo, flirtatious as always, but your reflexive smile matched the tone of your text.

🗨️If hot = busted, then sure 🙄

🗯️HEY UR HOT 😘 😘 SHUDDUP

  By the way their texts disjointedly pieced together before coming to a halt, you knew their matches started. You locked your screen with a sigh. Whether it was the ace’s ADHD-induced impulse thoughts or the blocker’s humorously blunt honesty, the two had always managed to spike your spirits high and block the anxieties that crept over the net. Without their distractions, the day replayed in 4K across the theater of your mind. Back slumped against the seat, you could feel the heaviness of it drag you down to the ocean floor.

  But now here you were, walking to your apartment with no reprieve from the disappointment. Rather than doing your adult responsibilities like clean, cook, or generally care past a shower, you slept. It was a deep, blank sleep. The type where you know you’d wake up feeling that eerie calm in the dead of night.

    Brightness blared next to your pillow – invading your vision as it violently vibrated against your hand. A loud ring attacked your half-concious hearing, jolting your heart like a jumpstarted engine. Quick reflexes enacted before you could stop the near Olympic vault of your phone into the wall across the bed.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me… who the hell….” You tear the blankets off, shivering at the cold as you pick the device back up. Thank your lord and savior, Asahi, for gifting you an Otter Box for Christmas.

  A gentle gasp left your lips as you saw a slew of missed texts from the dynamic duo. Oh no. Oh no. You felt horrendous. Your phone lit up as a photo of Kuroo with a French fry up his nose vibrated to life.

  As fast as your fingers could, you slid to answer, “He-“

  “-LLO WE ARE OUTSIDE ARE YOU COMING OR WHAT?!” Bokuto hollered into the mic, practically blowing out the speaker with sheer vocal force.

  “Holy shit, Bo! What? What do you mean?” Cautiously, the screen was brought closer to your cheek again, ghosting about a centimeter for your hearing’s safety.

  “Don’t you check your phone, hot-stuff? We’re going for a drive,” Kuroo honked the horn, echoing through the window and phone.

  Sure enough, the string of texts was about a drive and a half-planned plan of action. Thrilled enthusiasm rippled through you. You didn’t even think you’d get to see Bokuto this visit let alone with Kuroo! Praise the scheduling gods!

  The phone squished between your shoulder and ear as hands searched for an outfit that wasn’t your hoe shorts and sports bra. You threw on Bokuto’s old Ace’s Way shirt, and on top a near ancient Nekoma varsity jacket. Both items of which were left in your apartment from a get together nearly a year ago, “I’ll be out in a sec!”

  College was difficult. Especially when each of you had gone in somewhat different directions after high school. Kuroo, like yourself, played volleyball in university. And like yourself, nearly ripped his hair out when experiencing the hell that was Macroeconomics with Professor Mori. Bokuto was scouted play volleyball professionally, popping in and out of Tokyo to visit you two. At some point along the way and a slew of confusing budding emotions later, the three of you dove head first into a lovingly symbiotic relationship. It was hard when each of your schedules were chaotic, but worked out for the best as you all strove for your own goals while cheering each other on.

  You grabbed your bag of random things including underwear, extra clothes, and some money.  You never knew with the two of them what may happen and you learned from one wild trip to Osaka that Bokuto’s sense of direction was about as bad as you’d think it’d be.

  Half jogging, you rolled your eyes to the red corvette. Kuroo loved that thing way too much. Through the window, you could see Bokuto lean across the console to open the back driver-side door for you. The grin he wore could’ve fueled the sun itself, “BABE! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! EDGE-LINE STRAIGHT SHOT! WER’RE GOING ON AN ADVENTURE,” His muscular arm stretched to you, calloused hands reaching for you to grab.

  He pulled you you between the seats for a  bear hug, wide chest nearly eating you whole. He was as toasty as always. Or maybe it was just your cheeks. Either way, you were happy to see him, “Missed you, Bo! Sorry for missing the texts.”

  “You were asleep weren’t ya?” Kuroo turned in the driver side, a hand finding its place at the crown of your hair. The lazy pique of his own lop-sided smile greeted your playful glare, which melted into a nod and a sigh. The look he gave softened at the navy-coated aura rolling off you in waves. He stroked your hair once, poking your cheek as his hand passed it, “You’re here. ‘s all that matters. Now, Hoots over here can shut up about your nose, which is… a little fucked up, wow.”

  “You don’t say?” Your expression dead-panned as Bokuto pulled back from you to examine the swollen cartilage. While you wanted them to see the game, you were absolutely glad that they didn’t. Bokuto would have barreled down the bleachers had he seen your wipe out in person. Actually, you recalled a snap from Atsumu; the camera pointed to the tile of a locker room, Bokuto’s howling in the background with a simple caption of ‘You good?’  

  Pulling away from the ace, you sat back into the middle seat, arms resting on the leather between the passenger and driver sides. Kuroo drove with his hands low on the wheel, long digits thwacking the steering wheel to a silent beat. You glanced between the two, suspicious of their matching expressions. You dared ask, “Why’s it so quiet?”

  “Are you saying-“ Kuroo began.

  “-you want some tuunesss?” Bokuto ended giddily.

  He readily tapped a button on his phone, shielding the screen from you protectively. Kuroo’s gaze darted between the dash screen and the road, waiting for whatever shitpost song Bokuto most definitely was about to put on.

  “Guys… what are you-“

  A record scratch.

  I still hear your voice when you sleep next to me.

  “You’re fucking kidding me! Turn it up, turn it up!” Your hand bulleted to the volume, body squeezing past the two to crank up Cascada’s Everytime We Touch until the windows rattled. Kuroo and Bokuto shared a knowing, toothy smirk. Bingo.

  “Forgive me, my weakness, but I don't know why

Without you, it's hard to survive!”

  Duetting with the utmost of dramatics, you and Bokuto reached for some imaginary lover escaping in the distance, opposite hand grasping near your hearts. Kuroo snickered, forever and always amused at how weirdly in-sync the two of you could be. Watching both of you thrash wildly together was probably the most endearing thing he’s seen all day.

  The silveret pumped his fists as you both scream-sang the modern masterpiece. His large hands enveloped yours with enough theatrics to shake the emotion into the chorus:  

  “'Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling

And every time we kiss, I swear I could fly

Can't you feel my heart beat fast? I want this to last

Need you by my side

'Cause every time we touch, I feel the static

And every time we kiss, I reach for the sky

Can't you hear my heart beat so? I can't let you go

Want you in my life!”

  The palm of your hands smacked into their biceps at the last lines, letting the 2000’s synth twinkle into your veins. The vibes in this vehicle were immaculate. Waves that crashed over you, drowning you earlier in the day, receded, leaving sun-warmed sands to dance across. The ones who paved the way were a sarcastic cat and overzealous owl.

  The song was coming to an end and you excitedly whipped between the two, “What’s next?! What’s the playlist?! Link it to me? Please?” You bat your eyelashes at them, Kuroo nudging his chin to the other. The ace hurriedly clicked a few buttons and opened a few apps, radiating delight itself, “Done!” Your phone buzzed with Bokuto’s link. The title of the playlist popped up, overpouring unadulterated admiration into your heart until it warmed up to your cheeks.

  Tunes To Cheer Our Best Babe Up To.

 It was silly, but on brand for the two. All of the songs were added within the last three hours by both boys. Each one of them an absolute banger.

  It was Kuroo’s idea in the beginning. He remembered all the times in high school you’d cry after an exam, near inconsolable until he’d loan you his headphones. Just a few months ago, he caught you throwing it back to the beat of some pop classic after you failed your first semester’s final exams. There’s a video of it somewhere, but he won’t admit to the sin. You know it because you can hear him hyena-laugh in the hallway every so often as Bad Boy riots in the background.

  Bokuto, with all the brilliantly rambunctious enthusiasm the world could give a single human being, added in every song he already had in his likes. All of which he sung with you on every trip until your voices hurt. He even added Mr. Brightside, reminding you of the time he screamed so loud during the chorus that he sounded like a donkey the rest of the day and into his next match. To this very day, the infamous ‘O ᴼO ᵒn ᵉ  TᵒOᵘCʰ’ could be heard in the locker rooms by each teammate in unison.

  You paused as the next song hit, mouth abruptly shutting as the two in the front recited, word-for-word,

  “Man, fuck.”

“What's wrong Bo?”

“Man, these kids, man, talkin' shit, makin' me feel bad.”

“Man, fuck them kids, bro! Look around, hoots, look at life!”

“Man, you're right”

“Mmm, you see? You see this fine bitch right over here?” Kuroo’s long fingers pinched your cheek at the red light, laughing as you jokingly smacked it away.

“Yeah, woah...” Bokuto beamed at you.

“You see these trees man? You see this water?” You snorted as Kuroo’s hand waved to four-way intersection.

“I guess it is okay.”

“Come on, man, you got so much more to appreciate, man.”

“Man you know what, y-you're right...” The words, lyrics or otherwise, still brought a childish scrunch to the ace’s handsome face.

“You damn right I'm right,” Kuroo smirked, taking even the smallest bit of delight out of his perfected timing, “I can't remember a time I was god-damn wrong.”

“Man, thanks, Demon Cat.”

“Hey man, that's what I'm here for.”

  Bokuto, half-joke-half-serious punched Kuroo’s bicep, eliciting a feral smirk as they went into the chorus. Bo’s arms crossed as he shook his shoulders to the beat. Kuroo threw down at the next red light, clapping to each beat. Just as the bass shook your heart in its chest, both players head-banged with all their might, car jerking with the force. You feared for the steering wheel and the threat of an airbag going off when both boys slam-drummed the vehicle’s surface. The sight of the two of them going absolutely feral elicited the brightest cackle from your belly.

  They really knew how to turn your shittiest days into your new favorites. And you’d definitely be revisiting this playlist.

#i had fun with this one #🐈.kuroo #🦉.bokuto #🍯.hq #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #hq #hq!! #kuroo tetsurou #kotaro bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto x you #hq koutarou #kotaro bokuto x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo testurou x reader #haikyuu x reader

[vintagedolan]

mixtape | track nine

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

Eden arrived in New York in the biggest coat she could find in a store in Los Angeles, which came equipped with a furry hood and enough stuffing in it to make her resemble the michelin man when she climbed into the car. 

She leaned back against the headrest of the seat with a sigh, an iced coffee in each hand. Her eyes closed for a minute, like she was trying to find her inner peace, and then she sat up and passed a cup to Indy in the driver’s seat.

“Vanilla, oatmilk right?”

“Always,” Indy laughed, taking a sip before putting it in the cupholder. “So uh, I love you and all, but are you finally gonna tell me why you changed your flight and made it so much earlier?”

“Drive to your place, and I’ll explain.”

Eden waited until she got out of the majority of the traffic.

“So, I had my original ticket and I was just gonna rent a car and show up, you know this, we planned it. But then I had the brilliant idea to come early and kidnap you,” she grinned, sipping her coffee.

“You’re kidnapping me?”

“Kinda. Well, reverse kidnapping I guess cause I’m forcing you to host me. You told the boys you were Christmas shopping like I said right? So you’re clear for a few hours?”

“Yeah.”

“Well good, cause we’re having a girls moment, because you need me.”

“I need you?” Indy laughed. She could never imagine possessing the confidence that Eden manifested every day, but she hoped one day she could have a fraction of it. 

“Yeah, because you’re surrounded by Dolan twins, not Dolan twins girlfriends. And I’m sure neither of them have shut the fuck up about everything going on, right?”

Indy sighed, which Eden took as a yes. The two had been talking more and more, but especially since the absolute blow up on social media. Eden had been the first one to text her that day with a simple message.

Been there, I know how much it sucks but it’ll pass. Call me later when you’re up for it

Indy hadn’t called. She didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want Eden to think she was weak. Instead she’d gone onto Eden’s instagram, tried to see how she handled things, and from the first few scrolls on her feed it was blatantly obvious that she didn’t give a shit. Just a few weeks prior she’d posted a picture of her and Ethan in the mirror dressed up for a date, his hand fully grabbing her ass with the caption miss you bby. Indy scrolled the comments, blood boiling at some of the shit people said to her. She wondered if she’d ever get to the point where she could even stand to reopen her own instagram, much less post with reckless abandon. 

“We love men who think they know what it’s like to be a woman,” she teased, shaking her head as they continued down the road. “They’ve got such a protection complex, both of them, but Gray especially. Don’t get me wrong, I love it most of the time. Actually, it’s kinda hot. But holy shit does it get annoying when they underestimate you.”

Indy had experienced it first hand in the last week, and she couldn’t disagree. It was like she was on lockdown. Gone were the days of Grayson meeting her in the lobby of the building, or waiting for her outside of Jets. When he came to her apartment he was in sunglasses and a beanie, sometimes even a scarf pulled up over his mouth in an attempt to hide from any cameras he couldn’t see. He relaxed marginally when he got inside, but the only time he really seemed to catch his breath was when the sun set and they were tangled in each other’s arms, or when they were off the interstate on the back roads to Jersey. His shoulders would sink a bit, and his grip on her hand would relax when they took the exit. Something about the trees, still coated in snow, made him feel safer, made him feel like he could protect her somehow. 

It felt like a breath of fresh air to walk into her lobby with someone by her side. There were no cameras, but Eden wouldn’t have cared even if there was. She held her hand and walked in as if she’d done it a thousand times, though she had to wait for Indy to hit the right elevator button. 

When they got inside the apartment, Eden plopped herself down on the couch with a smile and patted the cushion beside her. 

“Alright, spill. Give me all the details, how’s it been going?”

Indy started to talk, and then she couldn’t stop. It spilled out of her like water, every single thing that had happened since her graduation date. Eden listened intently to each detail, from the way they’d changed their walking path to the hospital to the fact that he was looking into a new paint job for the truck to make it less recognizable. 

“And he’s just so paranoid, and I mean I guess I am too in a way, cause I like my privacy too. But it’s like he thinks I’ll die if a picture of me gets out or something, like damn, I’m a little sensitive sometimes but I’m not that fucking fragile.”

“You should have seen Ethan when the pregnancy rumors started for me. One big lunch at Monty’s later and all of a sudden I’m 3 months pregnant and I don’t know which twin’s it is,” she rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee through her straw with a smile.

“No fucking way.”

“I thought he was going to actually murder the dude from Hollywood Fix for that one. We burned through two Relax candles that week. Wild.”

“Jesus christ.”

“But hey, you already got the engagement rumor out of the way, so pregnancy is probably next. To be safe though, never even look in the window of a wedding dress store, and definitely don’t go to the baby section anywhere.”

Eden said it all so casually, as if making sure to avert your eyes from a wedding dress in a window was a totally normal thing to do. Indiana’s breathing picked up at her words, afraid that somehow she’d accidentally start a rumor about herself that would come back to bite Grayson.

“Isn’t that exhausting though? Being worried about that shit all the time?”

“You get used to it, and you adapt. Like the topaz ring for Lisa. That’s from Ethan and Grayson together, but they decided to send Gray in because if Ethan got spotted in a ring shop there would be an article about our secret wedding on DailyMail next week. Of course, that plan didn’t work out for Gray so well either, as we now know. Why the fuck he didn’t think about that is beyond me, but whatever,” she laughed. 

“No one was supposed to know about me,” Indy said, and her words didn’t resonate until they hung in the air. Was that what it was? The sudden shift in him being so damn worried about someone possibly seeing them together? It made her palms sweaty and she rubbed them on her pants before she spoke again.

“When did Ethan get over it?”

Eden scoffed. “He’s not over it. Still makes him want to lose his mind when someone says some shit about me. He broke a knuckle last year punching a wall cause a news outlet got pictures of me in a bikini while we were in Hawaii and said I’d gained weight.”

“That’s… absolutely fucked Eden, I’m fucking sorry.”

“I put it on my instagram story and laughed it off.” She shrugged her shoulders, as most women do when they have to accept unsolicited opinions from strangers. But something about the confidence she exuded when she said it made Indy believe that, somehow, she really had just brushed it off for the most part. 

“Is it hard to do that? Laugh it off?”

“Sometimes.” She sat up, getting more serious as she looked at Indiana. “But here’s the thing babes. Someone is sitting in an office somewhere, probably in their little house, with a bunch of clutter on their desk writing shitty articles about me. Meanwhile, I’m living in a nice ass house in LA with my hot ass boyfriend who bought me that bikini and took me to Hawaii. So who's actually winning?

“People talk shit about you when they wish they were you, that’s just how the world works. It’s shit, but once you accept that it changes your perspective on a lot of things. I mean honestly Indy, who gives a fuck what dolantea with 7 a’s the end has to say on instagram when you have Grayson fucking Dolan in your bed every night?” She raised her eyebrows, happy to see the smile she got out of Indy. “And if you ever tell him I said that I’ll put Nair in your shampoo.”

“My lips are sealed,” Indy teased, suddenly filled with a boost of confidence. “You have a very interesting perspective on the world Eden, I like it.”

“Coming from the college grad, I take that as a major compliment.”

“Believe me, there’s plenty of dumb people with college degrees. Doesn’t mean much at the end of the day.”

“But it gets you into a career that means something,” she mused. “I mean, being a doctor is a big deal, you’ll help a lot of people.”

Indy chewed on her lip. Every intrusive thought she’d had in the last few days that didn’t revolve around Twitter had to do with her imagining herself as a doctor, but it always faded into something else. It was her at a patient’s bedside, her helping them get to their feet, her sending them home with their family. Things that nurses did, not doctors. 

“Yeah. I hope so,” was all she could say. 

“That wasn’t very Indy of you.”

She quirked an eyebrow at Eden and waited for an explanation.

“You always keep a convo going, and you let that one drop, which means you probably don’t want to talk about it. But I’ll listen if you want to get it off your chest.”

“I don’t know… it’s just. The more I think about it, the more I realize that maybe being a doctor isn’t exactly what I thought it would be.”

“Oh. Well, then don’t be a doctor.”

It was Indy’s turn to scoff. “It’s not that simple Eden.”

“Isn’t it though?”

Indiana couldn’t come up with an answer. So instead, after the silence became too much, she deflected, making Eden walk her through the plans for the day.

A few hours later, once they’d gotten ready, they headed out to Jersey for the early birthday surprise, which Lisa was in on. She had ordered a massive vegan cake from one of the bakeries in New York that Indy picked up on the way, making Eden hold it for the majority of the ride. But when they got to the start of the driveway, she pulled over and had her counterpart climb into the trunk of the SUV, sticking a shiny blue gift bow on top of her head while she held one hand on the cake box to keep it steady.

Grayson appeared on the porch at the sound of the gravel crunching, cocking his head to the side when he noticed that Indy was backing in. He jogged up to the window when she put it in park, waiting for her to roll it down so he could lean in to kiss her. She hummed and smiled at him.

“Happy Birthday.”

“It’d be happier if you were out here,” he mused, leaning back to pull on the door handle, frowning when he realized it was still locked. 

“Go get Ethan for me, tell him I need help getting the cake out of the trunk.”

Grayson turned to do as she asked before he did a double-take at the very cake shaped box in the passenger seat.

“But…”

Indy repeated her sentence with a tight smile, but he still just frowned.

“Is that not the cake? Mom let it slip that she ordered one, I can just get it, cause Ethan is grumpy.”

“BITCH JUST GO GET HIM.”

Eden’s yell was so loud that Grayson jumped, putting a protective hand on Indy’s shoulder, though he didn’t know what he was protecting her from until he peeked into the car.

“Oh thank god,” he laughed at the sight of her, half hidden by the back row of seats. “He’s been moping for like three days!”

“Oh believe me, I know. Now go get him, I’m getting a fucking leg cramp back here.” 

Gray grinned, already feeling his brother’s happiness somehow as he bounded into the house, yelling incessantly until Ethan finally came trudging down the stairs, muttering profanities as he stepped out into the New Jersey cold.

“Bro, be nice, Indy worked really hard to make this birthday nice for both of us, even if Eden couldn’t be here. Just help me carry the cake,” Grayson said, doing his best to keep his voice steady.

Ethan took a deep breath and nodded.

“Dee, open the trunk babe!” Gray called, having to turn away to hide his grin. But he looked back quickly, not wanting to miss his brother’s face when the door lifted and revealed his girlfriend, sitting adorably with a bow on her head. 

Ethan just stared for a moment, mouth hanging open so wide that it made Indy laugh as she watched in the rear view mirror.

“You little shit!” He finally said, closing the distance and pulling her into his arms and out of the car, spinning her around for a moment before peppering kisses all over her face. It was like he couldn’t let go. Every time he went to pull back he caught sight of her face again and pulled her back against him until they were both shivering out in the cold, wind whipping at their exposed hands and ankles.

Grayson helped Indy out of the car, warming her lips with a welcoming kiss before they moved to unpack the car, letting the lovebirds have their moment. Lisa greeted her as soon as she made it in the door and sat the gifts down, her hair smelling like she’d just put on hairspray. Eden and Ethan trailed in moments later hand in hand, with Ethan yelling about how Li had been in on it the whole time.

In terms of birthdays, it was a chilled out evening. The twins birthday used to be a huge event, full of laughter and excitement. Now, there was a blanket over the scene, a silent understanding that one person was missing from the table - one who should have been a year older just a few days prior. But they made the most of their time together, eating the cake first gathered around the table before moving into the living room and starting on presents. 

Grayson kept a hand on Indy’s knee unless he was unwrapping, looking over at her with a warm smile any time that he could. Lisa’s gifts were first - new sweaters, Ethan’s red and Grayson’s green, a bottle of shampoo each, specific to their hair texture. They gave each other such an incredulous look that Eden and Indy couldn’t help but laugh, only growing louder when Lisa leaned over to smack their heads lightly. They got individual gifts too - a new helmet for Ethan for his longboarding trips and a nice drill that Grayson had asked for. They both stood up to kiss her cheek in thanks before they settled back down to open gifts.

Indy was let in on the tradition that Ethan always opened first because he was older, and she was more than happy to lean on Grayson and watch his brother open his gifts. He started with Eden’s, eyebrows shooting up when he pulled out an odd arrangement of things. A bottle of sparkling cider, sunscreen and a pair of swim trunks that were adorned with a pattern made of a picture of Gizmo. He checked the bag for anything else before looking back at Eden and waiting.

“Read the bottle.”

He held it up to his face, reading aloud. “Passionfruit Cider. Made and bottled on Maui. Oh shit. Oh SHIT! Are we going back to Maui?”

“We’re going in March cause that’s the only time when I could put two weeks together where we both don’t have work.”

Indy sunk down even further despite already being on the floor while they celebrated. She looked at the tiny box she’d brought for him, wanting to reach out and hide it behind her back.  

She didn’t get the chance to, because Ethan had already grabbed it, reading the tag. 

“Indiana you didn’t need to get me anything,” he said, and his sincerity made her feel a fraction better.

“Well, it’s no trip to Hawaii, so don’t get too excited. And your mom helped.”

He unwrapped the box carefully, opening the lid and staring down for a moment. 

“It’s a key,” he murmured, reaching in and pulling out the necklace, a silver key which sat on a matching chain horizontally.

“It’s a copy of the key to your house here, but as a necklace. I know you really miss home while you’re gone, and you wear necklaces sometimes, so I thought I could make you a little reminder.”

“You made this?” He looked up at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah! It’s not much, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it's perfect Inds. Seriously, I love it, thank you so much.” 

Indy blushed anyways, not really believing his words but trying to accept them as he leaned over to hug her, grateful for the change of subject when it was announced that it was Grayson’s turn. 

He started with Eden’s, smiling wide at the tool belt that he pulled out, yelling when he realized it was customized with his name on the side.

“You can use that to build that side table you keep telling me you’re gonna make me,” Eden teased, which devolved into a moment of playful bickering. Indy used the time to line up the boxes in the right order, biting her lip when she handed him the first one.

“That’s way too many gifts,” Grayson said, frowning at her a bit.

“It’s really just one, it’s like a - well they go together - just, just open it.”

He did as she asked, pulling the paper off and unboxing the first one.

“A fucking nutcracker! Fuck yes!” He yelled, starting to look at it a bit closer. “Wait. WAIT. Is this Cudi?” 

“What!?” Ethan piped up before Indy could even answer.

“Bro it looks like Man On The Moon End of The Day cover, look at the fucking colors, and the moon.” He pointed to specific parts on the body of the doll, showing his brother who leaned over his shoulder.

“Open the next one,” Indy laughed, passing him the box.

He was quicker with that one, yelling so loud that Gizmo started to yell in the kitchen as he recognized the album art from Man On The Moon II, all tans, blacks and stars. 

“Holy fucking shit these are so fucking cool! Give me the next one, holy fuck.”

Indy passed them along, laughing when each reaction was just as dramatic as the first. The Indicudi was Indy’s favorite, with the mixture of reds and oranges. The collection started to take shape as he sat them out next to one another, adding the simplistic Satellite Flight nutcracker next, followed by the neutrals of Speedin’ Bullet 2 Heaven. Passion Pain and Demon Slayin’ matched well with the bright colors of Man On The Moon III, and Grayson was so excited by the end of the six that he had to stand up and run a lap before he came back and pulled Indy to her feet. 

“You like them?”

“You got me Cudi’s discography in fucking nutcracker form. I fucking love it, and I fucking love you.” He kissed her like no one was in the room, her heartbeat so loud in her ears that she didn’t even hear Lisa’s ‘awe’ from behind them.  

“I love you too,” she murmured against him, letting him hold her for a minute before he dropped back down to his knees to look at the collection, dissecting every detail like a six year old with a brand new toy. 

Ethan was just as enthralled, and she wished she could be as chilled out as Eden seemed as she sat and watched them. But instead, she was running numbers in her head, trying to calculate how much a trip to Maui for two would cost with airfare and lodging put together. 

She’d thought she’d gone overboard with the $300 collection of nutcrackers. For her, it was anyways - she’d timed her showers for two weeks and left them lukewarm in an attempt to save some money on her utility bill to justify it. Her mind spun for a moment as she thought about the little stack of Christmas presents hidden under her bed. A sweater for Lisa, a roll of film for Charlie to go with the new camera Dev was buying her. Fuzzy socks and a candle each for Eden and Cam that she’d found on a good sale. The thought of them sitting next to big extravagant gifts she was sure would arrive on the 25th made her deflate, so much that Grayson sensed it enough to pull himself away from his new toys.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

“I’m here,” she said, giving him a smile that didn’t make it to her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was have him worried about her on a day that was supposed to be about him. He returned one in hopes it would lighten her mood, but he knew not to push it. In fact, he didn’t bring it up until they were back at Indy’s apartment, in their pajamas after eating extra cake that Lisa had sent home with them. 

“Did you have a good birthday?” Indy asked, tracing H-A-P-P-Y-B-D-A-Y on his chest.

“I did. Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah! Yeah, it was good. But today was for you, it doesn’t really matter what kind of day I had.”

“It always matters what kind of day you had,” he countered. “You seemed kinda upset when we were giving presents.” 

“Oh, yeah, it was no big deal. I just didn’t feel like I got you guys enough stuff. 21 is a big birthday.”

He leaned back enough so he could see her face, frowning down at her. 

“First off, it’s only a big birthday because you can drink, which doesn’t matter to me. Second, you gave us both more than enough, I have no idea why you think that.”

“Eden got Ethan a trip to fucking Maui.”

“And?”

“I got him a key. On a chain.” 

“Which is probably the most thoughtful gift he’s gotten in a really long time.” 

“It cost $20.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you can buy people whatever you want.”

“We’re just in different life stages,” he said. “You’ll be making bank once you’re out of school, you just have to get to that point. And even then, it doesn’t matter what you buy people for gifts. They only care that you’re there with them.”

Indy resisted the urge to repeat her words back to him again. She didn’t really expect him to understand where she was coming from.

“Yeah, I hope so.” She ran her hands down over his ribs under the covers, smiling when she felt him sigh under her. “By the time I pay off my loans Ethan and Eden will probably have three kids, you’ll have to spot us for all the baby shower presents.”

It was Grayson’s turn to fall quiet. He could see it - see Indy in a little pink sundress out in their LA backyard, celebrating a new baby on the way, talking with Eden and Lisa, helping Adele organize tables. And he wanted it. But he held her in his arms and thought about all that would come for her before that time came, and his heart tightened in his chest when he realized that he wouldn’t be there to see it.

“Tell me about school.”

She sat up a bit, running her hands through his hair.

“That’s what you wanna do with the last hour of your birthday? Hear about school?” 

“Yeah. Just wanna hear you talking to me,” he said, ignoring the tightness in his throat. 

She did as he asked, talked about the classes she had left and what order she’d have to take them in, the application process, the in’s and out’s of medical school as he tried to memorize every inflection of her voice, her laugh, and the feeling of her pressed up against him. 

When they woke up, it seemed that the holiday season had fully taken hold overnight. Suddenly, the days were flying by in blurs of Christmas lights and shopping. The pair were together 24/7, attached at the hip every moment that they could get away with. When Grayson was recording the podcast, Indy was just out of sight on the floor listening. While Indy was clearing out her laptop from the semester, Grayson was sitting behind her on the bed braiding her hair. Before they knew it they were trying to fit Bekah’s presents, and the cookies they made for the nurses into an already packed backseat of the truck on Christmas Eve.

A blanket of snow still rested in the city, muffling the city sounds it seemed as they drove. They were bundled up enough that Grayson wasn’t worried about them being recognized in the short walk to the hospital, and they shed their layers once they were inside the warm walls. They took the elevator, not minding the slow climb up to Bekah’s floor. But when they got to the desk to sign in, the nurses looked weary. Indy chucked it up to having to work the holiday and hoped that the cookies would lift their spirits when she left them on the counter. 

Bekah’s room had a small tree in the corner, covered in colorful lights and generic silver and red ornaments that were identical to those in every other room of the hospital. Bekah hardly reacted when she saw the duo enter in, though she tried. She sat up as much as she could but ended up back flat on her bed. 

“Hey Beks, hold on, let me help.” Indy rushed over to her side, fumbling for the buttons to raise the back of her bed up so she could sit up and see the room. Grayson held up her stack of presents with his biggest smile, the one Indy loved where he would clench his teeth. Bekah lit up, grinning wide at the two of them. Her skin was pale, and they could tell that she’d lost weight, but her smile was just the same. 

“Earrings, you double as Santa on the weekends or something? They already give the sick kids pity presents, you didn’t have to go so hard.” 

“These are from Indy actually,” Grayson said. Indy bit her tongue. She’d picked them out, but Grayson had footed the bill.

“They’re from both of us,” she corrected. “You feel good enough to open them now?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.” 

And she was good. But she wasn’t great. Just unwrapping the boxes seemed to zap out the small energy store she had left. Indy wished she’d had the foresight to package them in bags instead of boxes, make it a bit easier for her to open. But the excitement was enough for her to make it through opening the new Christmas blanket, which was covered in cats and dogs in festive sweaters, a Harry Styles crewneck and new fuzzy socks. The last box was an Among Us shirt, with a little purple crewmate peeking out of the pocket - Bekah was notorious for how many hours she spent playing (Gray and Indy would sometimes hop on and play a few games with her when they weren’t there). 

“You guys are the best,” she said, letting the pile of presents rest on her bed. She yawned, so hard she leaned back and her beanie slipped off her smooth head. Grayson watched as she reached for it and winced, and suddenly he was watching his dad there in the bed, trying to get to his phone on the bedside table, wincing in pain. His breath caught in his chest and he blinked hard, trying to come back to reality.

And then Bekah closed her eyes, and laid perfectly still. It was quiet in the room for a moment, and a wave of nausea rose in Grayson, so strong that he raised his hand up to his mouth.

“Beks?” He choked out.

“She’s okay, she’s okay.” Indy rushed to reassurances. “Look, look at her monitor.”

The blips on the heart monitor line meant much more to Indy than they did to Grayson, but he recognized them enough to catch his breath.

“Sometimes, when someone is exhausted like that, they lapse in consciousness for a little while. It’s a defense mechanism, she’s okay.”

“For a second I thought - fuck,” he huffed, running his hand over his face. Indy moved beside him, taking his hand in hers and kissing his knuckles one by one.

“What the fuck.”

They both turned to the bed, where Bekah’s eyes were open again. But they were unfamiliar somehow, none of that usual Bekah charm that warmed the dark pools of brown in sight. 

“Bekah-” Indy tried, but she was cut off.

“You two are dating? Seriously? What is this, community service date night?”

“Beks-” Grayson spoke up.

“I never ask for much, but fuck you two. Fuck you.”

“Bekah, hey.” Indy took a step towards her bed, and Bekah recoiled.

“I try. I try really fucking hard not to think about how fucked up and shitty my life is. I’m 15, and I’m dying. I’m never gonna go back to school. No prom, no graduation, no wedding. Not even a fucking boyfriend before I die and everyone forgets me. The least you could do is not rub it in my fucking face.” 

“Bekah, you can’t think like that. You’re gonna get better, you’re gonna get all those things,” Grayson said, blinking through the tears that had formed without warning in his eyes. They fell down his cheeks in uneven droplets, hot and unfamiliar. 

“Yeah? Just like Emma was gonna get better right? Well, her funeral was last week. She’s never going to play hide and seek again, much less anything else. What about Damion from my last radiation rotation hmm? God was gonna come down and heal him too right? Then why is he dead, huh? Where’s God in all this? Where’s my fucking happy ending? I’m gonna get the inside of a box, that’s what I’m gonna get, and no one will fucking admit it because I’m a kid, and I’m supposed to be here longer than this! I’m supposed to have more time! I’m supposed to get to do stupid shit in college, and grow up, and find my person but no. I’m never going to get those things, so fuck you both for throwing it in my face.”

“Bekah-” Indy’s voice broke on the word.

“Get out. Both of you, out.”

“Bekah please.”

“OUT!”

Her yell was loud enough to alert a passing nurse in the hallway, and she stepped inside.

“You two need to step out of the room please.”

The sobs didn’t take hold until they were in the hallway. They ripped out of Indy without warning or grace, and Grayson did all he could to hold her pieces together as she started to shatter. 

“Shhh, Dee, hey, it’s okay, let’s go outside,” Grayson tried to comfort her through his own tears, leading her towards the doors.

A hand caught his shoulder and he turned his head to see Jessica in her scrubs, coming out of another patient’s room.

“What did she say?”

Indy perked up from where her face had been buried. 

“What did Bekah say?” She asked again

“She’s agitated, talking about how her life is being cut short, how she’s dying. She told us to leave.”

Jessica sighed, looking down at her shoes. 

“We’re on our last resort. A final round of chemo and radiation. If this doesn’t work, we’re out of options. And it’s going to be brutal, it’s spread to her brain. You’ll have to be patient with her, she’s probably going to go through some personality shifts. She’ll be more emotional, more irritable. Sometimes she might be disoriented. This type of cancer, when it’s in the brain, it’s unpredictable. One minute she could be fine, the next she could be completely unrecognizable. Give her a few days, wait until after the holidays when everything is back to routine, and give it another try okay? Hopefully it’s better when things are a bit more normal.”

“Yeah,” Indy sniffled. Jessica put a hand on her shoulder.

“Indiana her face lights up when you two walk in that room. She talks about you guys non stop when you aren’t here. She’ll come around from whatever it was, okay? Just give her some time. We’ll be here to take care of her, don’t you worry.”

Indy wasn’t sure why, but she pulled Jessica into a hug. The woman was surprised, but she reciprocated anyways with a squeeze. 

“Sweet girl. It’ll be okay,” she murmured, which only made the tears flow even more when she let go. 

Indiana transferred from one set of arms to the other, back into Grayson’s strong grip which only loosened when he pressed the button for the doors. When they made it to the ocean hallway, it all hit at once, and her legs gave out. She caught herself on the support bars as Grayson lowered her to the ground. They came in waves that she couldn’t control, not for want of trying. 

“I’m s-s-sorry,” she stuttered, trying to force air into her lungs. Someone down the hall pulled a door closed quietly. 

“It’s okay, hey, it’s okay. Breathe baby, just breathe,” Grayson murmured, running his thumbs under her eyes to try and wipe her mascara, which was running down her red cheeks in dark streaks. He waited until she was able to take a few solid breaths before he spoke again. 

“C’mon, let’s go to Jersey. I’ll take you to Jersey.” 

She put most of her weight on him while they took the stairs out into the cold streets. It had begun to snow again, and the cold only added to the stinging in her eyes as he led her to the truck. She wondered in that moment how many times he’d had to hold her together, and her stomach twisted in guilt for a moment at the thought. Even still, she huddled into Grayson until he opened her door for her, immediately moving over as close to him as she could, pushing the middle console up to make it a bench seat and scooting to the middle when he climbed in.

His Dad had once told him it was important to be a confident one handed driver - you never knew what you’d have to hold in your passenger seat, he’d said. At the time, he was referring to the four large pizzas that ended up leaving a permanent grease mark in his jeep seat. But Grayson was thankful for the advice as he maneuvered the car out of the spot and out of the parking garage with an arm still around his girl.

The roads were quiet, and he questioned it until he remembered that it was in fact Christmas Eve. He slowed down when they got to the Jersey neighborhoods, looked at all the lights, all the families he could see in the windows, huddled around their bright trees. He could remember those nights like they were yesterday, him and Ethan sneaking to the top of the stairs to try to catch a glimpse at the big man with the red sack. When they were five they’d seen him and ran to wake their sister. They’d all watched in amazement as he placed presents under the tree and ate the cookies they’d left.

He’d found the santa suit in a box in his dad’s closet when they went through his things after his funeral. 

“Does your family have any Christmas traditions?” He asked quietly, running his arm quickly over Indiana’s arm in a bid to keep her warm as he drove. The cool wind that was whipping the snow around seemed to be outrunning the heater in the truck. 

“We did. We would watch Elf the night before, cause it was mom’s favorite. We did the cookies, the stockings, all that stuff too. But we always had grilled cheese and soup for dinner too.”

“Grilled cheese and soup?”

“Yeah. That was mom’s idea too. She always said we could leave extra room for a good Christmas morning breakfast if we ate grilled cheese and soup. So we always ended up in the living room with our plates and bowls and Christmas PJs watching elf. Turns out, warm soup was always her trick to get us to go to sleep early. Made me and Charlie tired I guess. She told me it worked like a charm every time. What do the Dolan’s do?”

“Ours is more Christmas morning. We do the whole giant breakfast thing. We open stockings first, and Santa presents, then we do breakfast and then we do the rest of the presents. Used to drive us crazy when we were little, cause all the presents would just be waiting for us. But Mom said it was so we were grateful for our food too, cause it was a gift that we had it on our table at all.” 

“Li is a good mom,” Indy sighed, resting her cheek on his shoulder. Her eyes were tired, the kind where your eyelids feel like they weigh ten pounds a piece, but she fought with them and won, still awake when they made it to the house. She hopped out and moved to the backseat, but Grayson caught her.

“I’ll carry the stuff in. Go get cleaned up, take a hot shower and relax. Mom will be worried, she always knows when someone has been crying, it’s like a sixth fucking sense.” 

For once, Indy didn’t argue. Instead, she went in the house as quietly as she could, grateful that even Gizmo didn’t seem to note her arrival. She snuck up the stairs to Grayson’s closet, grabbing an old thick flannel and a sports bra that she’d left, plus some sweatpants, considering she’d left her bag in the truck.

She had never been so thankful for a shower. She lost track of how long she let the warm water wash over her head, closing her eyes and focusing on the feeling of the stream against her skin. It was peaceful, but surreal in a way. She thought about where she’d imagined herself on Christmas Eve night at the beginning of the year, and it looked so vastly different than where she was, on the cold tiles of a New Jersey shower with her boyfriend carrying in gifts downstairs. The thought of him waiting for her gave her enough motivation to get cleaned up, though she had to resort to using Grayson’s shampoo and bodywash, which was an unlabeled Wakeheart sample he’d been testing out it seemed. It smelled fresh, with a vanilla mixture that was reminiscent of Jet’s.

Indiana was in higher spirits when she sauntered down the stairs, and her heart swelled a few sizes when she heard a familiar song in the background - the title screen of Elf, waiting on the TV in the living room. She checked rooms until she found Grayson, standing in front of the stove with two pots and a skillet going. She didn’t have to ask. Instead, she walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. 

He spun around, spatula in hand until they were chest to chest as he watched the stove over her head, holding her close to make sure she didn’t get burnt. He nuzzled into her wet hair, and then sniffed harder.

“You smell like me,” he noted.

“Had to use your stuff. I like that body wash though, which one is that?”

“Can’t remember. Let me see.” He reached around and caught her arm, smelling her skin.

“Ah. That’s Polis.” 

She looked up at him. 

“Polis? Like… Poland?”

He chuckled against her, flipping over a grilled cheese.

“Polis as in the end of Indianapolis. A smell that makes you seem put together and professional with a sweet note at the end. Vanilla. Like your lattes.”

As he often seemed to, he rendered her speechless enough that all she could do was press a kiss to his chest and wrap her arms around him, under his sweatshirt to trace on his back.

L-O-V-E-Y-O-U

He kissed the top of her head and stirred the soup. 

Ten minutes later and they were cozied up on a makeshift palette on the floor under a few blankets, with soup and sandwiches in hand. Grayson had made himself three vegan grilled cheese and tomato soup, and caved and given Indy the last can of chicken noodle in the cabinet because he knew it was her favorite even if it wasn’t vegan, though her grilled cheese was vegan as well. They watched Elf play, laughing and noting all the familiar NY scenery. Indy swore the man in the red jumpsuit had come into Jet’s before. They sipped their soup out of the bowl, and Indy listened to Grayson talk about the cinematography, trying to follow all that he was saying. 

Once the bowls and plates were sat aside, they found themselves wrapped in each other’s arms, and Nicole’s old trick seemed to work, considering Indy was asleep before the end credits. Grayson carried her upstairs and put her to bed before going back down to clean up.

Though he tried to get into bed without waking her up again, he didn’t quite manage it, his weight moving the mattress just enough for her to stir and open her eyes. 

“Sorry baby, it’s just me. You fell asleep.”

“Hmmm. C’mere,” she murmured, opening up her arms. He laughed, knowing that if he laid on her the way she was asking that he’d press all the air out of her lungs. Instead, he pulled her on top of him and slotted their legs together, revealing in the feeling of their skin pressed together. She was warm for once since she’d been under the covers, and he hoped his fingers weren’t cold as he began to trace patterns against her back. 

“I love you,” she hummed, tracing a swirl over his ribs lazily.

“I love you too.”

“Forever.”

“Hmm?” He asked.

“I’m going to love you forever. I can feel it. I’m yours forever Grayson Dolan, and don’t you forget it.”

He pressed a kiss to her head and felt her finger against his ribs. F-O-R-E-V-E-R.

“I’ll love you forever too Indy. Forever.”

The tears returned.

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

Grayson was the first up the next morning, after a restless night of sleep - or so he thought. Lisa was in the kitchen, watching the snow continue to fall outside. It coated the trees outside and muffled the woods in a blanket of white. Lisa turned to greet her son, and frowned. 

“Have you been crying?”

He hadn’t shed a tear since the night before, but he should have known she would know. A mother always does.

“Just some stuff with Bekah. She’s not doing well, and I feel bad cause I won’t see her again until next time we come visit after we leave.”

“You can always call, and she’ll have Indy. She’ll be okay love.” She stood and ruffled his hair as she passed, headed to pour him a cup of coffee.

“It’s not as good as Indy’s, but it’ll do,” she smiled, rubbing her hand over his shoulder. They sipped in silence for a moment as the world woke up.

“Do you remember the year Dad dressed up for Christmas? When we were five?”

“Oh yeah. That was your Poppy John’s idea, he did it for Sean when he was little. Said it made him believe in Santa for a few more years. Your dad wanted to keep you guys kids as long as he could, and he knew Cameron was going to figure it out sooner than later. He also knew you two would be spying. You tried it when you were four, but you both fell asleep on the stairs before you could see any action. He told you Santa must have carried you to bed when you woke up that morning.” 

“Holy shit, I remember that.” He paused for a moment, reflecting. “You all always went all out for us on the holidays, I never really thought about it. Thanks.”

Lisa smiled the warm smile that only mom’s could really give, and patted his hand on the table. “I just hope you’ll do the same for your kids one day. I know you will.” She paused for a moment, and then she smiled. “You remember what he told us, on that last Christmas? About what he was gonna do?”

Grayson could hear his father’s voice in his head for a moment, and it made his throat tight.

“Yeah. Said he’d give us white Christmases for the rest of our lives if he could.”

Lisa lifted her mug towards the windows.

“Merry Christmas Sean.” Her words hung in the air, and Grayson swallowed the lump in his throat, watching the snow fall. 

Eventually he went back to bed to coax Indy awake about an hour later, smiling at her bedhead when she rolled over.

“Merry Christmas Dee,” he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. Her eyes widened a bit quicker than normal.

“It’s Christmas!”

“Yep,” Grayson laughed, brushing her hair out of her face. She caught his hand and pulled him down over top of her, the covers wedged between them as she kissed him.

“Merry Christmas,” she said against his lips, and he melted into her. He couldn’t think of how many Christmas morning’s he’d woke up wishing to have someone there with him. It brought a new kind of excitement that quieted his mind for the time being, and he happily scooped her up and sat her on her feet so they could go wake up the other duo of the house. 

By the time they convinced E squared to arise - which took jumping on the bed, a promise of lattes and the threat of cold water - Lisa was already halfway done with breakfast.

Grayson hadn’t exaggerated - there was a huge assortment of fruit, pastries and coffee to get everyone started. 

“Stockings first! Well, coffee, then stockings!” Lisa clapped her hands and passed out mugs. Indy channeled her Jet’s days to make the lattes quickly, funneling in behind everyone as they headed to the fireplace to grab their stockings.

She melted when she noticed the I. 

“Lisa, you didn’t need to do that.”

“Oh hush. Okay red E is Ethan, white E is Eden…” she trailed off as she passed them out, slightly confused when she watched Ethan reach underneath the tree to pull out a stocking for his mom that the boys had filled. 

Indy was let in on the stocking tradition when she opened it. Everyone got essentials - a new toothbrush, socks, chapstick, lotion. She also threw in each person’s favorite candy and a giftcard to a local ice cream shop in town with vegan options. Lisa’s stocking was more extravagant, with some of her favorite high-end hair products, a certificate for a free massage, and lots of bath bombs that were Wakeheart testers. She hugged her boys necks when they all stood up, up on her tiptoes so she could reach. Everyone funneled into the kitchen after that, the boys in charge of the vegan meat options while Indy and Eden helped with the biscuits and cinnamon rolls. They ate around a full table, laughing and telling stories of Christmas. Eden won the most interesting story with one about her holiday with her extended family back in the Philippines, in which they’d spent Christmas using buckets to get water out of the house from a monsoon that had made landfall, a rarity for that late in the year. 

Time seemed to fast forward as they moved to open presents. The boys spoiled Lisa, as they always did. A new iPhone, expensive tennis shoes to help her back while she worked. New signs for the garden beds that Grayson built and Ethan painted, a canvas print of the picture Charlie had taken from Thanksgiving. They saved the topaz ring for last, knowing it would make her cry. Her tears were enough to get Ethan’s eyes prickling - forever the mama’s boy, who just hugged her while she let it out, Grayson joining in a few moments later. She opened her sweater from Indy, complimenting the color, and a new set of Airpods from Eden, seeing that she’d lost her first set. 

They moved on to Eden next. She also got a new phone from Ethan, which she smacked his arm for buying considering she knew how expensive they were, ignoring the fact that her phone barely held 20 minutes of battery anymore. Grayson got her a new sketchbook with a set of top line pencils and markers for her to sketch out her work designs, and Indy bought her a pair of Nike’s that she’d had her eyes on. Lisa got her a gift card to her favorite restaurant in LA - a non vegan one that she proposed could be used on a girls date when Lisa came to visit.

Indy was next. She had always hated opening gifts in front of people but she swallowed her un-comfort and proceeded through the boxes. Lisa bought her a nice blow dryer, remembering that she’d complained about hers once and raved about the one that she let Indy borrow. Eden bought her a new outfit - it was a bit out of Indy’s comfort zone, with the patterned pants and bright top, but she hoped she’d be able to pull it off. Both Eden and Gray assured her that she could. Ethan bought her a print of the state of Indiana, laughing at the way she tried to pretend that she loved it. 

“Read the back.” 

She flipped it over, squinting to try to read his messy handwriting that told her to check behind the tree. Sure enough, she found a box with a stethoscope in it. Top of the line, one of the more expensive brands.

“Every doctor needs one of those things, at least that’s what google told me. It’s got your initials on it too, cause apparently people try to steal them.” 

He dismissed her claims that it was too much, and instead urged her to open Graysons gifts. The first was a speaker, because ‘Cudi needs to be played loud and well’, followed by a bag full of clothes. She pulled the first piece out and gasped.

“You bought me scrubs?”

“Yeah. I know you were stressed out about them being expensive, and I knew you’d use them. I bought five sets, I hope that’s enough. And I asked the nurses at Frazier what the best brand was, but if you don’t like those I have the receipt.” 

“I’m sure they’re perfect. Thank you bub, I love them.”

She knew that Grayson had held back, and she was appreciative, especially as they got closer to his gifts. Luckily, Ethan was born first and therefore got first dibs. He got a custom longboard from Eden that she’d designed with all his favorite things, including a thermal painting of a very scandalous picture of her on the bottom that she’s covered with a piece of paper so Lisa didn’t see. Grayson got him an envelope with three tattoo appointments that he’d managed to get with their favorite artist in LA, who was usually booked up for months in advance. Lisa bought him a new jacket and boots, while Indy bought him a pair of headphones designed for the inside of a helmet, so he could listen to music while he skated. 

Grayson was the last to go. Eden got him new sweatshirts since he ‘wore the same ones all the time’, while Lisa bought him a sweater and jacket. Ethan bought him extra organizers for his closet and a minimalistic nutcracker, though he admitted it didn’t stand a chance of taking the spot of one of the Cudi nutcrackers, which stood tall on the mantle. Finally, he opened his bag from Indy, smiling when he pulled out a few things. The first was a journal, made of recycled paper and bound in a dark green cover with his name on the front in gold. The next was a Jet’s gift card, a small inside joke between the two of them. The final one was a picture frame. It was simple, black with flecks of gold along the edges. Within it, the first picture they’d ever taken together, in the mirror of Indy’s room where half his body was covered in her writing, labeled muscles. 

“Can’t lie, I spent most of my budget on your birthday. But I have a matching picture to put on my shelf, so I figured you might like it.”

“I love it,” he reassured her, kissing her cheek quickly, a sweet moment before the bustle of clean up began. The afternoon flew by with movies playing in the background and the snow continuing to fall outside. The boys cleaned off the cars, and after sunset, they appeared with a duffle bag each and a mischievous look on their faces.

“C’mon, we’ve got one more gift to show you guys.” 

Lisa waved goodbye from the front porch as both couples climbed into the truck, the girls in the back.

“Do you know what this is about?” Eden whispered.

“No idea.”

So they waited patiently until they finally put the pieces together - it only clicked when Ethan got out and opened the gate.

The trail looked different from the seat of the truck. Partially because it had been cleared out, but mainly because they weren’t on the back of a quad, with the wind whipping in their faces.

Hidden away in the snow covered clearing, the tiny homes were covered in snow. The lights inside were glowing a warm yellow, inviting them in from the cold. Grayson parked halfway between the two, coming around to get the duffle bag before turning around, a sign for Indy to climb on his back.

She didn’t argue, considering he had the advantage of snow boots over her, and climbed on, hugging onto him tight as he trudged through the snow to the front door. He kicked the snow off his boots on the small front porch and then opened the door, the draft of warm air already enticing. 

The inside was more beautiful than Indy could have imagined it would have been. She remembered trying to visualize it when Grayson had explained where everything would be - it felt like years ago, that warm fall day. But the kitchen was exactly as he had said it would be, minimalistic with dark wood that looked black in the dim light and white cabinets. The stairs were beautifully done, and Indy found herself climbing to the loft to find the queen size bed that awaited them, with the triangular window that looked out over the trees. 

“This is incredible,” she mused, looking down over the balcony at him. He beamed up at her, taking her in. Her skin glowed in the warm light, her hair washed yellow in a beautiful tone as it hung around her shoulders. He found himself kicking off his shoes and climbing the stairs to meet her, abandoning his plan of giving her a full tour in favor of exploring her instead. 

She followed his movement like water in an ancient stream, cut out and formed just for her to flow along, and they ended up on the bed with her back against the soft mattress.

“Are we christening the house?” Her words were muffled by his lips, which were eager and hungry against hers, a feeble attempt to drown out his thoughts. He kissed her incessantly instead of answering, pressing all her buttons to make her melt for him. The heater was small and nestled downstairs, goosebumps rising in the cold air as they lost layer after layer, chasing the heat of each other.

He held her as close to him as he possibly could, blocked out the cold and the doubt as he bit onto her shoulder and rocked her in sync with his hips, watched her head fall back and his name sing from her lips as she came undone over and over again until she was putty in his hands. He came so hard he saw stars, slowing down with her still in his arms.

She was in such a daze that it took her a moment to come to her senses and remember that she needed to go downstairs to pee and get cleaned up. As soon as she was out of his sight, the realization of what he’d just done came crashing down on Grayson. The guilt crushed his lungs as he finally admitted to himself that he knew he was hurting Indy. He knew she deserved to know where his mind was at, where it had been ever since Ethan had brought it up. He’d been selfish, and cruel, and as he sat there naked he’d never felt more ashamed in his life. He scrambled to get his clothes back on before Indy came back up. 

She was still blissful, her legs a bit wobbly as she tried to navigate the unfamiliar stairs. But she frowned when she saw his winter coat. 

“Those aren’t pajamas.”

Grayson jumped at the sound of her voice.

“Yeah, uh, Ethan texted me, he said their heater isn’t working, asked me to come look at it.” 

“Oh. That sucks, you want me to come help? I can hold a flashlight or something,” she offered.

“No, no it’s cold, you just stay here and relax, I’ll be back. Might take a while, but I’ll be back.”

“No promises that I won’t be asleep,” she teased, climbing under the covers. “This bed is better than mine I think.”

“Get some rest, I’ll be back soon.” 

“Okay. I’ll save a spot for you. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He headed down the stairs, slipping his boots on as quickly as he could and choking back his sobs until he was out of the door. He trudged blindly across the yard, only guided by the lights from the windows, and he knocked on the door.

He couldn’t imagine what he looked like when Eden opened the door. But it was bad enough that she didn’t say a word. Instead, she simply turned and called for Ethan, who took one look at him and pulled on his coat, following him out into the snow towards the truck. 

Safe inside the cab and in the presence of his brother, Grayson fell to pieces. Ethan could only remember a handful of times that his brother had cried so hard, and he held him tight in his arms as best be could, shaking with him as the sobs ripped their way out of him. 

Ethan didn’t even attempt to talk, only to console as best he could until Grayson could finally breathe. He pulled the extra inhaler out of the glove box and made his brother take a few puffs when he started to wheeze, holding the canister up to his lips.

“Breathe Gray, c’mon, you’ve gotta breathe so you can talk to me. You gotta tell me what’s wrong so I can help. Hey, I’m right here, it’s me. You can tell me, it’s okay.” 

Grayson finally caught his breath enough to calm down, with his hands gripping onto Ethan’s jacket collar like his life depended on it.

“I’m gonna break her E. I’m gonna destroy her and it’s all my fault. I love her, fuck, I love her. What am I supposed to do?”

Ethan sucked in a long breath through his nose, looking over at Grayson’s house.

“You haven’t told her.” It wasn’t a question.

“I wanted to, I fucking can’t. Every time I think I can tell her I just think about what it’s gonna do to her. What it’s gonna do to me. I don’t know what the right thing is here E, you gotta tell me.”

“You know I can’t do that.” 

“Fuck that, you’re me, we’re each other, you know me better than I know me. Tell me what to do.” 

Ethan could barely see his brother’s face, but the little bit of light from the moon showed enough pain in his eyes to have Ethan’s stomach twisting. He put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed.

“You know what I’m gonna say.” 

Grayson’s breath hitched once, and then a new wave of sobs took over. He shook so hard that Ethan was convinced the entire cab was shaking with him. Ethan held him, willed himself to absorb some of the pain, as much as he could, anything to help. 

“If it’s the right thing why does it hurt this bad?”

“I don’t know Gray. I don’t know.” 

“I love her.”

“I know.”

“She loves me.”

“I know.”

“Then how is this the right thing?”

Ethan paused for a moment, holding steady on Grayson’s shoulders.

“What would dad say? If he was here with us, right now, what would he say?”

Grayson pressed into his eyes with the heel of his palms and sniffled.

“He’d say that it wasn’t fair. He’d be mad that I hadn’t told her yet, and he’d say that she’s a good person who shouldn’t have to give up on her dreams for mine. He’d tell me to do what’s best for her, I know that. God, FUCK!” He smacked the dashboard so hard that Ethan heard something crack. He wished there was a way that he could protect his brother in that moment more than anything. Usually, he could step up, take the heat, take the attention off him if he needed. It was one of the few times that he felt truly helpless.

“You don’t have to do it tonight. You still have a few days. Just think about what you want to say, and bring it up whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m never gonna be ready, Ethan. That’s the love of my life, and I’m just supposed to walk away? And what’s she gonna say, when she finds out I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, and I haven’t said shit, huh? She’s not gonna want anything to do with me. She’s not gonna love me anymore, Ethan, and I can’t live with that. I can’t.” His voice cracked, and Ethan’s heart cracked with it.

“If it’s meant to work out, it will somehow. We’ve always believed that.”

“How?” It was a plea more than a question.

“I don’t know Gray. I don’t know.” 

Grayson didn’t know how long they sat in silence. They didn’t need words, just the comfort of each other’s presence as he ran through line after line of what he was going to say. He had to do it then, there was no other option. He had to tell her as soon as he got back, or he was afraid that he never would. But every time he closed his eyes to think, his mind was flooded with her, a kaleidoscope of memories and moments that he couldn’t imagine not making more of. He thought of the way his soul ached every time she cried, and he couldn’t fathom how much worse it would be when he was the cause of it. 

He threw the door open without warning, stepping back out into the snow. It took Ethan a few steps to catch him, but when he did he pulled him into a hug, a real one, and pressed his face into his shoulder. 

“I love you bro. We’ll get through it. You’ll be okay.” 

Grayson always knew when his twin was lying, but he tried his best to believe it. The cold wind stung on his wet cheeks as he went back to the house, kicking off his boots. He took the stairs one at a time as slowly as he could, his panic growing with each one. 

When his foot cleared the final step, he saw her.

She was asleep, curled up under the covers in her New York sweatshirt, hands folded underneath her face. He just stared at her, tried to memorize every feature on her face.

He could have stood there for hours, but she stirred only a moment later. Her eyes peered open just enough for him to see the blue, and then they closed again, a small smile stretching across her lips.

“Come to bed baby. S’warm.” 

Every cell in his body screamed at him, tried to pull him back as he slid out of his coat, out of his flannel, stepped out of his pants. His brain called him every name in the book, told him he was pathetic, weak, manipulative.

But his heart beat just a bit slower at the thought of being in her arms, even if it was just for a moment, the familiar home he’d made for himself comforting enough to let him drown the rest out and climb under the covers and over to her, pulling her into his arms as he pressed his lips together and let his eyes fall closed.

#mixtape #WOOO #sorry it has christmas even tho christmas has passed hahaha FUCK #pls lemme know what you think :) #grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan fanfiction

[thedigitalromantic]

Digital Sleuths: True Crime Communities and The Gabby Petito Case

Followers of true crime are attempting to solve murders themselves, piecing together clues as they appear - and I’m one of them. Why are we so keen to get involved? Are we genuinely helping, or just voyeurs who are doing more harm than good? When I joined an online sleuthing community I began to reflect more on these questions, and wanted to capture this moment in time where crime is being picked apart online.

Trigger warnings: domestic violence, murder, death, decomposition, rape, violence against women, fatphobia.

Gabby Petito was a 22 year old woman from the US who went missing during a road trip to the national parks with her fiancée, Brian Laundrie.

After camping together in Teton County, Wyoming, Brian appeared alone at his parents’ home in Florida on September 1st, driving Gabby’s van. Gabby was nowhere to be seen. Her parents asked him where she was to no avail, and they reported her missing on the 11th September after not hearing from her since the end of August. Brian’s parents hired a lawyer and the Laundries refused to speak with Gabby’s family, who resorted to official, public statements where they begged for information about their daughter.

On September 16th, they wrote: “Please, if you or your family have any decency left, please, tell us where Gabby is located… Tell us if we are even looking in the right place. All we want is for Gabby to come home. Please help us make that happen.”

On September 19th, searchers found a body matching her description at the last place Gabby and Brian camped.

***

Over the last few years, I’ve become so used to True Crime that watching unfolding stories in the news can feel like I’m just watching just another Netflix show. I don’t know if that says something terrible about me or the state of the world, but it feels like we’re both fascinated by, and numb to, the awful things that people do to one another. 

I first heard about the Gabby Petito case on Instagram, where an influencer I follow shared a TikTok explaining the case in great detail, adding “Have you heard about the Gabby Petito case??” as a caption. The TikTok user was sometimes posting several updates a day, and after a few days, I had started checking her page regularly. Where was Gabby? Was she missing, or dead? Who had seen the couple during the road trip? How was Brian acting now? 

Gabby’s own Instagram profile was still live: her follow-count increasing every hour the more people became aware of the case. Her Instagram profile was filled with glossy photos of her enjoying travelling, all exuding innocence and joy, and her and Brian had just started a Youtube channel to document their “van life” journey. 

The couple’s internet presence, their idyllic life, Gabby’s mysterious disappearance, and Brian’s odd behaviour and silence, created a perfect storm that seemed to draw people to the story. Like thousands of others, I needed to know what had happened.

***

In between TikTok updates, I had begun to search the case on Twitter. On the 19th, Twitter users were avidly discussing news of the body that was found matching her description. Everyone was clamouring for information. Was it really her? Had she been murdered? Would Brian be arrested? 

“How did you get the body coordinates?” One tweeted.

Another replied, “The Gabby Petito is Missing Discords. These people are better than the feds.”

I jumped on the tweet, replying to ask for more information, and soon enough, a handful of other tweets buzzed around mine asking for access. The Twitter user was kind enough to invite a few of us into the private Discord servers.

***

The first Discord was titled “Justice For Gabby”, its profile picture a photo of her in front of a mural of blue wings, as if she were an angel. The second was simply titled “Gabby Petito”, with a photo of her smiling. 

I began to scroll through dozens of people gathering to piece together what happened to Gabby, with maps, timelines, quotes from lawyers, analysis of terrain, and text messages. I was hooked; and I joined in, speculating about the couple’s final movements together, staying up late to join the American crowd, waking up in the morning to updates that happened overnight. I felt like I had hacked into the behind-the-scenes of true crime internet sleuths, and felt like I had found my true home.

Discord lends itself to late nights. The website is a dark, moody grey, people’s contributions appearing in front of you in real time in white text, pushed up the page every few seconds by a new theory or speculation.

On the right, a panel of usernames showing who is currently online (with a green circle) or idle (with an orange crescent) starting with the mods (moderators) before those who had joined. It was the moderator’s job to watch the chat, occasionally interjecting with a reminder to be respectful or to keep to the designated topic. The topic varied depending on the room, with titles like “general discussion”, “theories and rumours”, and “off-topic-lounge.” Users were almost all anonymous, although many used a first name and set their profile picture as a cartoon character, drawing, or pet. I called myself “Thea”, and initially, due to my anxiety that I would be older than everyone else there, put up a picture of myself to show that I wasn’t middle aged. Quickly, I realised nobody else was giving their full identity away, and switched it for a picture of Frog Detective’s lobster cop.

I often listened to the voice chat, where a handful of sleuthers would discuss the latest developments. I would stay on mute with maybe 20 or 30 others, all listening in. We watched live streams, sometimes hosted by news presenters, other times simply a static camera placed at the latest scene of interest, with trees gently rustling and cars moving past. Watching those livestreams, I noticed that time seemed to move in an achingly sad way, with this young woman either missing or dead, while the sun continued to rise and set.

***

We all have enough on our plates without bringing so much sadness into our day. Why watch TV shows that are upsetting or frightening? Why dwell on it at all? What draws us to follow cases like this? And why do women in particular seem to follow true crime with such passion?

I’ve devoured Making a Murderer, The Keepers, The Staircase, American Crime Story: OJ Simpson, Unbelievable, The Devil Next Door, The Ted Bundy Tapes, Unsolved Mysteries, and Sophie: A Murder in West Cork, while I’ve read books by Jerome Buting, Marcia Clark, and Michelle McNamara - each of these either documentaries or dramatisations of abused and murdered women.

More recently, while the Gabby Petito story unfolded, we in the UK were still awaiting the sentencing of Sarah Everard’s rapist and killer. Walking home from her friend’s house in London, she had been abducted by a police officer, lured into his car before being kidnapped. In the same month, Sabina Nessa was murdered and her body left in a park when she walked five minutes from her house in London. 

Like these two British women, Gabby should have been safe. She was travelling with her fiancée; the person she had chosen to spend the rest of her life with, the person she trusted. I couldn’t help thinking that Gabby Petito could have been me, or any one of my friends saving up to go travelling and see the world.

It has been suggested that women follow true crime because it’s a way of knowing and controlling the worst that can happen to us. Because really, there is nothing we can do to protect ourselves as we move about our lives. There isn’t anything we can say or do that will make an attacker have mercy on us. There isn’t a piece of clothing we can wear that will shield us from harm. There isn’t a weapon we can carry that will guarantee we keep our life. There isn’t a street, park, or house, where we can know we are 100% safe; in fact, statistically, it is our own home where we are most likely to be harmed. Maybe it makes sense that we would want every detail of the worst case scenario. It also makes sense that we would want to help; to pour our energy into finding Gabby, and solving the case, to find the closest thing to justice for this woman who could have been any of us.

***

It turned out that Brian and Gabby had been stopped by police on August 12th - a couple of weeks before her disappearance - after passers-by had reported a physical fight between them. On TikTok I watched the entire bodycam video, split into chunks with analysis, featuring the conversation between police and Brian, as well as footage of Gabby sobbing in the back of the police car, before they were forcibly separated for the night. Because Brian had scratches on his face, it was Gabby who was singled out as the potential abuser in this scenario, and Brian who was given a free hotel room to let the pair cool off.

On Discord, users discussed the 911 calls and what they saw in the body cam footage, including Brian’s body language, the police officer’s reactions, and how research into domestic violence could be applied to really understand what we were seeing. 

The video has now been thoroughly deconstructed by domestic violence experts who have explained that Gabby’s distress next to Brian’s calm demeanour - he even laughs and fist bumps the officers - shows classic hallmarks of an abusive relationship. The abuser appears reasonable, while the victim has already been pushed to breaking point, and therefore appears “crazy” to any initial glance. 

It’s easy to miss upon first viewing, but Gabby also tells the officers that Brian keeps trying to lock her out of the van, and that he has been undermining the project she’s working on. In addition, two of the initial 911 calls about their dispute describe Brian hitting Gabby, rather than the other way around.

The footage is haunting. It is awful to watch this young woman who was so full of life, become fragile, weeping, and placed in the hulking metal police car while she is questioned, only to be released again to a situation in which she later died.

***

There was nothing we could do to help the Gabby we saw in that video, but we could try and make things right - and we had reason to believe we could. In fact, it was social media that allowed Gabby’s body to be found. Detectives had been searching acres of land in Wyoming, a search that often felt hopeless as the vast landscape could take weeks or months to cover.

But after hearing about the case online, a couple who had filmed their travels with a GoPro attached to their vehicle scoured their footage, finding a few seconds of Gabby’s van parked up near the last campsite they were known to have visited. A body matching her description was found nearby. 

Discord users analysed that van footage for weeks; although it was grainy, you could just make out the back door of the van being closed as the car approached. A flip flop - which they identified as one of Gabby’s from Instagram photos - lay on the ground behind it.

***

While we waited to be sure that this was indeed Gabby’s body, we discussed why it was hard to identify her, for example, whether her tattoos would still be visible. In the chat dedicated to “gruesome details” we analysed screenshots of helicopter footage to work out exactly where this body had been found in the grass, identifying a white square as the roof of the forensic equipment tent. Users circled dark patches of ground, compared different angled shots, and identified specific trees. We discussed body farms and decomposition, looked at the weather for the last few weeks, and the local wildlife, as well as whether she could have been wrapped in tarp, or what position she might have been lying in. 

These were questions that were too insensitive to discuss in the regular chat; but by entering this space you came with the understanding that it might be difficult subject matter. I don’t know why, but this was where I spent the most of my time. 

In the same morbid vein, a YouTuber visited the spot long after the body had been recovered, hoping to find the exact location. For the first time, we were able to see footage of the area that captures how incredibly beautiful it is. It’s a vast, flat and open area next to a shallow creek, where the grass is yellow and the trees are a luminous green, the bright blue sky overhead.

In the video, the YouTuber finds the spot where Gabby’s step father arranged a cross out of pebbles. A bunch of flowers lay there slowly curling and becoming straw-like; the scene far too peaceful and beautiful to comprehend that it was where she died. But as the video progresses, the YouTuber discovers the remains of a recent campfire. Immediately, he picks at the charcoal, exclaiming to his companion, “she was burned” in a horrible, gut-wrenching display of ignorance and insensitivity. 

***

Was I just as bad as this YouTuber? When I really thought about it, the fact that I was almost consuming this case like a true crime documentary did feel perverse. When a TV show is released, people often say that it then belongs to the fans. Sometimes the Gabby Petito case felt like it belonged to the followers.

Disaster relief groups say that after an initial tragedy there is a “second disaster” - the teddy bears and flowers that arrive from well-wishers hoping to send comfort and support. Every time there is a hurricane, shooting, or flood, someone has to give away or dispose of all the cute, fluffy gifts, which often become rain-sodden or muddy where they lie.

Were we the second disaster? Were we flooding the case with unwanted sleuthing, saturating the conversations with our ignorance and morbid curiosity? 

***

It wasn’t until the 21st September that the remains were confirmed as Gabby’s and the cause of death ruled as a homicide - with no further details. Everyone had hoped for the best, but were prepared for the worst. My heart sank the day I heard the news.

And then, after weeks of silence, Brian’s parents suddenly explained that their son had been missing for several days. Police began to search the Carlton Reserve, an enormous place in Florida not far from the Laundrie residence, where Brian had apparently gone camping on the 13th or 14th. 

Sleuthers jumped at the task of helping to track down Brian. In the discord chats titled “sleuthing” and “theories and rumours”, users deconstructed Brian’s Instagram profile (including his eco-friendly stance to eat out of melon rinds rather than use plastic bowls) the places he had camped before and where he could be hiding now. A group listened to “scanners” or police radio, learning the police codes to translate what was happening. They were the first to know when a SWAT team was wrongly called to the Laundrie house by a member of the public apparently hoping to intimidate them. Others still watched flight paths of every plane going over the reserve, reporting anytime it looked like they were circling in; they ended up learning which were the private planes, which were new pilots learning difficult moves, and how often helicopters need to refuel.

In the news, there were regular “sightings” of Brian over multiple US states, and users compared photos constantly, zooming in on ear shapes, forearms, t-shirt colours and patterns.

Private jokes sprung up at every opportunity. Combining Brian’s “melon rind” manifesto with his bald head, and as a way to express their feelings about him, users started to refer to Brian as “melon head.” A key reporter on the case, whose first name was also Brian, was distinguished as “news daddy”, and references to him as simply “daddy” became commonplace.

Amongst these chats, one user called “cheese” could be seen spouting theories that law enforcement themselves had been involved in the murder, that Brian was also dead, or that they had both been killed as a ritual sacrifice by a cult from the Teton County area. Eventually, the mods made cheese their own chat, called “cheese’s corner.” I dropped in there a couple of times to find cheese passionately writing to bemused onlookers about the presence of aliens and worldwide conspiracies. “Cheese is actually insane,” I later saw other users say offhandedly, referring to their notoriety. Regardless of cheese’s wacky content, it warmed my heart that a harmless oddball could be respected and given their own designated space to share.

***

After the initial shock and sadness had passed, the discord server held 2.22 minutes of silence for Gabby and her 22 years of life. In the voice chat, I listened to people supporting one another in their mental health struggles. Over time, people had opened up, and shared the reason why this case meant so much to them; what it reminded them of in their lives, and how they felt about Gabby. She seemed to be an inspiration to everyone, to live life to the fullest with an open heart. There were regular reminders to take time away from the case, to practice self care, and in the designated “off topic” chats, people shared photos of their dogs. 

We had turned something awful into a place we could come together. We even discussed what to do after this specific case ended; and we agreed to carry on working to solve crimes. As time went on, new chat channels were established as places to discuss other missing people who hadn’t made the headlines, those lacking the privilege of being a young white woman, whose families were desperate for help. 

***

Amongst the hard work, humour, and caring words, there was hatred and bile for the Laundrie family, sometimes verging on vengeful. Users struggled to understand how anyone could refuse to cooperate with the police in this situation. Likewise, I could see the heightened emotions online having off-line effects. For weeks now, members of the public had been staking out the Laundrie house, chanting in protest and leaving shrine-like arrangements of Gabby’s photos, hoping to persuade the Laundries to talk. I saw footage of a woman who had flown to the Laundrie house to heckle them; they were effectively trapped, with their every move watched by the public. Meanwhile, the Laundrie family’s lawyer made statements mostly through text messages to journalists. “Idk” [I don’t know] he wrote simply, to a series of questions he was texted. The unprofessionalism was shocking. 

With the story taking America by storm, discord users joked about how hard it had become to be a white, bald man in America, since any passing resemblance to Brian could get you reported to the police. A TikTok user shared a video of him explaining with good humour that his strong resemblance meant it was difficult for him to leave the house.

***

Things began to verge on the ridiculous when Dog the Bounty Hunter took up the case, and discord users gleefully shared the footage of him knocking on the Laundrie’s door. Indoors, the Laundries called the police. Dog tracked Brian to Fort de Soto Park in Florida, where he believed Brian could be manoeuvring from island to island by canoe. We studiously compared Dog’s findings of footprints on a beach to a photo of Brian’s feet, agreeing that the shape appeared to be the same. 

When Dog found a Monster energy drink can lying on the shore, there was ferocious speculation as to whether this could belong to Brian. Brian’s Instagram posts were anti-packaging - including his encouragement to eat out of an old Melon rind. Brian was eco friendly, vegetarian, and appeared to hike barefoot. It was hard to imagine, then, that he would drink a Monster energy drink, let alone cast the empty can onto a beach. My most “liked” contribution to the discord and moment of pride was my speculation that “woke Brian” used melon bowls, while “dark Brian” was apparently capable of drinking Monster drinks, littering, and murder.

***

Clearly, we had begun to stray from our purpose, and with less and less news to chew over, it wasn’t long before there was discord on the Gabby Petito discords. Brian’s sister, Cassie, had volunteered to speak to police and journalists when her parents would not, but she stumbled through her interview, flushing and taking back words. While I was undecided, other users were widely in agreement that she was lying.

It was around this time that one mod commented on Cassie’s weight, in a hurtful and disrespectful tone. Users responded in outrage - this was not the community they had come to love - but the mod insisted that this was “not a safe space” and that it was not their job to take care of anyone’s feelings. Ultimately, the mod held all the power, and each time anyone expressed disagreement, they kicked each user out of the Discord, one by one.

I watched in horror as the very people who made this community were vanished from the server. Not only were they no longer online, they were banned from the group, and all of their previous messages and contributions were deleted as if they had never been there at all. Not even a ghost of their participation remained. By morning, the “Justice for Gabby” discord had collapsed altogether. I woke up, stunned, to only one Discord, where before there had been two. Like those users, the entire thing was gone, as if I had imagined it.

***

I had watched a similar series of events happen in the online sleuthing group for The Keepers. The 1950s murder of Sister Cathy Cesnik had never been solved - but a pedophile ring had been exposed in the school she taught, and it was now widely agreed upon that she was murdered as part of the cover up.

After I watched The Keepers, I joined a Facebook group dedicated to solving Cathy’s murder. Through this group, I found myself staying up until 2am looking at census records in Florida from the 70s. I used findagrave and ancestry, and even considered paying for a findmyfriends login, all trying to find someone the investigators were hoping to track down. But despite its honourable intentions, The Keepers Facebook community devolved into vicious bullying, with a handful of Facebook users accusing the investigators of seeking their own fame and ignoring important leads that didn’t fit their hypotheses. The group fragmented into two, with a new group appearing for people who did still support the original investigators. To this day I quietly maintain membership in both groups, keeping a foot in both these warring worlds. Is this the fate of all sleuthing communities? Is our cooperation only possible for a brief moment before we find ourselves at each other's throats? 

***

That morning, I clung to the second “Gabby Petito” discord where I soon found other people discussing the collapse of “Justice for Gabby.” “Did the other #findgabby Discord go defunct?" A user asked. “Just saw that it disappeared from my sidebar." “Justice for gabby?” a user replied. “It was deleted today.” “It turned horribly,” another user added. Another went on, “One of the mods made a fat phobic comment ... and banned anyone who disagreed with them in the slightest.” Apparently this wasn’t an isolated incident, since another user described being attacked by mods; “it was pretty bad,” they said. On top of all this, they explained that cheese’s corner was not harmless at all, and had become a place for “a conspiracy theorist [who] made a lot of really hateful theories against certain groups.”

In the off-topic-lounge, I posted my thoughts. “I will miss that server, or the good parts of it anyway. I couldn’t understand why it had to get so ugly […] I’m really sorry it was so awful.” The user chatting with me replied, “it happens,” but said that they were sad, because it was “unfortunate how much time and sleepless nights I spent trying to be a good mod […] just for it to be thrown out like that. I wanted to make it feel comfy for everyone but some of the mods just ruined it.” “Ugh that’s so sad” I replied; “I appreciate the work you did.”

The ex-moderator went on, “I think all of us only wanted to help in the only ways we knew how to, and it’s been amazing, meeting everyone and being able to make new friends, and trying to get justice for Gabby.” 

***

Within the Gabby Petito Discords,  I saw human nature playing out in all its ugliness and beauty. The server fulfilled a desperate need to show love to one another and find solace in the face of this tragedy. We supported each other, made friends, and sometimes simply passed the time together. Despite Gabby’s murder being an awful event, rather than it consuming my thoughts and keeping me awake at night, I never felt that I was grappling with it alone. Rather than feel like an at-risk woman, a potential future victim, my identity was consumed by the role of sleuther, of someone actively engaged in putting things right, rather than fearing the worst.

On the Discords we worked tirelessly to find out what happened to Gabby - and we also engaged in a kind of server-wide bullying of a murder suspect, with discussions verging on the ludicrous and insane. But whatever pettiness and ridiculousness went down, these discords gave us a focus, and they helped us.

When the server collapses, when nothing is left but the memory of that online community, that ghost of a discord server, we can move on with our lives. For Gabby Petito’s family, there will be no such peace. They will have to wake up every morning and remember that she is gone. I cannot imagine what it must be like to lose a child in such terrible circumstances. But in this case, there is the added injury of public involvement. I’m not sure how much, if at all, being on the side of justice helps mitigate the uncomfortable fact that this case has nothing to do with us. Yet on the other hand social media led detectives to Gabby’s body, when it might have never been found. I hope that on balance, these clumsy amateur detectives and well-wishers have been a net positive, but it is entirely possible that we were not.

***

We still don’t know what happened between Brian and Gabby at the end of August, and Brian was found dead in the Carlton Reserve on the 20th October - apparently having gone into hiding there. At the time of writing Brian’s death has just been confirmed as suicide. There is the possibility that a notebook of his, found with his remains, will illuminate more.

Nothing can change this series of events now; so how can we learn from them? In his interview with Dr Phil, Gabby’s father explained that the only thing that could make Gabby’s death bearable is that some kind of good will eventually come out of it. If her story helps one person leave an abusive relationship, then her death has some meaning - without that meaning, her death is too painful to comprehend. 

Gabby’s father set up The Gabby Petito Foundation to help with future missing persons cases, and to “provide aid to organizations that assist victims of domestic violence situations, through education, awareness, and prevention strategies.” In the weeks following Gabby’s death, I have already seen tweets sent to Gabby’s father, explaining that they have left their abusive partner as a result of her story. The fame and notoriety of this case may have been a curse, but the awareness it has spread may be its blessing: and if Gabby’s story has saved one life, maybe it wasn’t all in vain. 

***

I send my deepest condolences and love to everyone impacted by this story. 

Users quoted at length gave me permission to quote them in this piece.

#digitalethnography #online community #research #digitalanthropology #discord #truecrime #netflix

[codename-adler]

Kevin Day and his Oblivious Literature Lover, pt.IV

In times of college finals, aftg is my coping mechanism of predilection. hope it helps some :)

>> Table of Contents,TW and other parts here!

i’ll let you guess what Kevin and Juliet chose for their project

oh, yes

the letters of Hamilton, Eliza and John + Hamilton: The Musical

i will fight you on this

at first, when Juliet suggests it, Kevin stares at her so hard bc really?? a musical??

but then she lends him the 50$ leatherbound official book of the musical (you know the navy blue and beige one? you know what i’m talking about, right?) and reads it all in one evening and wow

lin-manuel miranda? genius. ron chernow? Genius. alexander hamilton? Dumb Genius.

oh yeah and Juliet? Absolutely mind-blowing genius.

as Andrew & Neil grow closer and the match agaisnt the Ravens rounds the corner, Kevin finds himself looking more and more forward to the time spent at the library with Juliet

she is just so focused on their project and so oblivious as who he really is and doesn’t really care if sometimes he is more anxious, if freaks over everything to be perfect, if he babbles on&on&on&on about any bit of history he discovered

she’s just there, smirking, stiffling her laughs and asking for more

they’ve exhanged phone numbers and she installed snapchat on his, and although he never sends her anything, she always has a short video and a funny caption that pop up from time to time; they’re that little reminder that the world goes on outside of exy and that he exists outside of exy

she introduces him to funny videos and he didn’t know absolute dumb shit could make him snort??

his favorite is the peanut butter baby

at first the Foxes give him this judgemental look when he ugly-snorts in the locker room or at Eden’s, but eventually they just get that glint in their eyes as if they were in on the jokes

sometimes, Juliet’s so focused on writing down bullet points in her notebook, peeling the skin off her lips, so unaware of Kevin’s personal hell of a life, that he just wants to spill out everything

although he’s not sure if it’s because he wants her to know him and stay, or because he wants her to reject him and therefore spare himself the trouble of getting attached...

she takes the decision for him

on a Thursday afternoon, on their planned study session, she doesn’t show up

she doesn’t answer her phone either

he even tries out a completely blacked out snap with “r u alive?” in caption

no answer

he gives her space, sending her occasional cat videos he thoroughly researches

if she watches them, she doesn’t say anything

on Monday afternoon, she doesn’t come to class

that’s when the panic Kevin’s been reigning in just... bursts

what if it’s Riko? 

what if it’s the Master?

what if it’s Ichirou?

what if, somehow, it’s the Butcher’s people?

that afternoon’s practice is hell for the Foxes, Kevin is ruthless and an asshole and very agressive

Dan waits for him outside the boys’ locker room as all the other Foxes leave (not even Andrew and Neil want to wait for him)

“Spit out your goddamn problem before I tell Coach to bench you next game”

oh, how Kevin wants to cuss her out

and then he looks  at her face, ready to vomit words, when he sees her worrying her lips

just like Juliet

it shouldn’t be enough to make him tear up, but it does

he still manages to keep as much of the truth to himself as he possibly can

“My EAL partner isn’t responding to my messages or my calls and she didn’t even come to class today and it stresses me the fuck out and what if it’s like with Neil, Dan?” he says in one breath, trying to tear out the net of his racket

Dan recomposes her face and gets that very serious look, the one she usually gets when someone touches her family

“It’s not, Kevin. That’s over. We got Neil back, we got you back, you got Jean back. The team didn’t even know who that person was. The most info we’ve gathered is what you just told me now. Yeah there are some bets but it’s mostly for funsies, nothing even remotely serious. You wanna look for her?” she soothes him.

“I don’t even know...”

“She lives on campus?” she asks.

“I don’t- I don’t know, Dan. I spent months with her and I can’t even vaguely say where she lives! How fucked up is that?” Kevin yells.

“It’s not even remotely fucked up, Kevin. You should know that. Does she have instagram? twitter? Or like, facebook?” she questions some more.

“God, I don’t know. She only sends me stupid fucking videos and I never even respond like the goddamn asshole I am...”

“Shut up. We’re all assholes at the end of the road, ‘kay? You ain’t better or worse than others. Now she sends them to you in text or somewhere else?”

“Sometimes texts... Sometimes the yellow app, the chat one. Why.”

“Oh great, that’s great. We can locate her, with snapchat, if she forgot to turn off the sharing. And if you’re comfortable with that, too. I know you’re not a creep like that. You’re creepy sometimes, don’t get me wrong. But, not a creep.”

“Gee, thanks, Dan.”

“Hey, shush. You down or what?” she says, arching an eyebrow.

“Okay,” he answers, unable to make the fear go away without knowing for sure.

And so it turns out Juliet’s location is, in fact, knowable. Dan grabs one of Kevin’s shoulders as he leaves the court, squeezing her affection into her grip; he nods emotionally in her direction, as far as emotions can translate unto his face.

he doesn’t even know what he’ll do once he finds her, his brain is solely focused on the animated map that brings him closer and closer to Juliet

the more he progresses, the more he realizes he is far from Fox Tower, on a campus area he has never even seen

he stops before a decrepit building, old and moldy-looking

Jackie Kennedy Hall

student dorms? this shabby? she can’t possibly live-

except that she can, because there isn’t another building close and the map has brought him here, and he doesn’t really know her...

so Kevin straightens his shoulders, inhales deeply, and goes inside

he could go on and on and on about everything that is just wrong with the place, from the smell to the decoration, but he makes a beeline for the front desk (he’s lucky there’s even one)

he asks for a way to contact someone, flashes his press smile at the women behind the desk, gives up his ID in exchange for the room number

Juliet Grier, 418

stairs, stairs, stairs, stairs

heavy door, right, 412, 414, 416...

418

what, now?

Kevin hesitantly knocks once, twice

no answer

he knocks again and decides to speak up, in case she didn’t hear

“Juliet? It’s Kevin. Day. From EAL? Can I speak with you?”

still nothing

maybe she isn’t home... no, the map says she’s here. maybe she’s sleeping...

he decides to try one last time

“We really should finish that project, you know? I think we could both use the free time...” he says without his heart into it.

without surprise, no response still

he decides to take a loose paper from his sachel and writes down some words

Greetings Hi,

My friend Dan helped me look for you, but you don’t have to worry about your privacy; it’s because of the yellow app. You should turn that off if you don’t want other people to be nosy. 

You weren’t in class today. I’ll share my notes if you want them. But, you should come to class, it’s better. For learning. 

I’ll wait a few in case you’re asleep. 

Text me or call me or whatever when you’re ready.

- Kevin D. (your partner from EAL)

quick, efficient, to the point

Kevin slips the paper under the door, and waits

he refreshes the map too many times, to see if her location changed or if somehow there was a glitch

it stays put

he ends up sitting on the hallway floor, his back sliding down the wall

he catches up on a book for another class, checks exy stats and watches many, many videos of Jeremy Knox on the court and in interview

some students pass him with a nasty look, eyeing the lack of earphones on his phone

some other students walk by him and will themselves to keep going, because holy shit it’s Kevin Day in Jackie Hall

it’s at least an hour and a half before the doorknob slowly and quietly starts to click

Kevin was absorbed deep into whatever move Knox was making before scoring

the 418 door opens

Kevin gets up in one move, all things Jeremy Knox and exy forgotten

she’s loosely holding Kevin’s paper in one hand, the other clutching a large scarf that covers up the majority of her body

from what he can see, though, she’s wearing sweats from head to toe; her hair’s tied on the top of her head, but most of the curls escaped and it looks unwashed and her curls, dry

her skin’s turned pale, dark circles under her eyes, a haggard look in them, her cheeks stained with dry tears

Juliet looks terrible

“Hi...” Kevin attempts

she finally looks up from the paper and gives him a bored look that could rival Andrew’s

with a rough voice strained from cries and many days without speaking, she asks, “My EAL partner?”

“Well, yes. In case.”

“In case of what.”

“I-”

“I know who you are, Kevin.”

and isn’t that both his most ardent wish and his worse fear?

with that, she turns around and goes back to her dark room, leaving the door open behind her

is that... an invitation?

Kevin’s never been to another person’s place, apart from the Columbia house, Abby’s and Wymack’s

he reminds himself why he came in the first place and decides it would be a waste to leave now, right?

the small studio is a mess, much like its occupant

there are clothes everywhere, on the floor, on a chair, on the bed, on the desk

all the curtains are drawn, no light is on, the only source coming from Juliet’s laptop somewhere amongst her bedsheets

it’s like she made herself a nest and hasn’t moved from there for a long time

maybe even since last Monday, the last time he saw her

Kevin doesn’t understand the scene he has before his eyes

he’s never seen such apathy in someone that is not Andrew

and at this point, apathy is pretty much Andrew’s default state of being

not Juliet’s

Juliet is a soft glow, toothy grins, wild curls, countless jumpers, dumb jokes and references, color-coded notes, an organized mind, unwavering focus and determination, flowing words and warm, kind eyes...

so what is this?

then Kevin realizes he spoke aloud

and Juliet can only chuckle sadly, almost mockingly

“This? This is why I don’t have friends. This is why I don’t mix with people. This is why I’ll never amount to anything in life. This is my dirty laundry, both metaphorically and literally. This is it. That’s... That’s it. This is what I get,” she answers flatly

Kevin’s mind is spinning

he doesn’t understand

he needs to understand, though

“Explain it to me,” he says

Juliet looks at him like a brick just hit him on the head and made him speak Swedish

“Why.”

“Because, surely there’s a way to work with it.”

she laughs

it doesn’t reach her eyes, nor her lips or her cheeks

it’s just a desperate sound

it makes him think of Andrew again

and that gives him an idea, a gut feeling, if you will

“Can I try something out?” he asks

“Kevin... I can’t- I’m tired... It’s not a good idea... I’m tired, Kevin,” Juliet responds, pain noticeable in her voice and her movements slow

“I know, I- I know. Someone I know... He plays this game. It’s really not a game, it’s more like a communication thing. He calls it “A Truth for a Truth”.  In exchange for something I tell you, you tell me something. And in exchange for something you tell me, I’ll tell you something else. It’s made me... work through some things... before,” Kevin explains calmly

Juliet keeps on observing him from her bed, silent

“Look, can I just stay here to do homework? I have nowhere to go right now,” Kevin asks, almost blurting out “Please” before Andrew’s ghost caught it in his throat

she lies back down, burries herself in her covers, a silent “yes”

Kevin ends up falling asleep sitting on the floor, books open, head resting at the end of Juliet’s bed

he wakes up around 2 AM

he’s got multiple texts from Aaron and Nicky, one from Andrew, and one from Dan

“told everybody you spent the night at Coach’s. take care.”

he silently vows to thank her later

now he either really goes to Wymack’s to finish his night there, or... he stays exactly where he is

Juliet is still sleeping soundly

in a haze, he palms for a pillow or cushion, pulls his hoodie on and lies back down on the carpeted floor

he’s only awaken in the late morning when he brutally gets stepped on

“What the shit?? Kevin! How...???” Juliet yells

“Um, ow? No, no, don’t apologize so quickly. You just, you know, crushed my lungs and a couple of ribs, no worries, Jules!” Kevin groans

“Ju- you know what? I’m not sorry. Right now I gotta pee, so you better have a damn good explanation when I get back,” she replies and leaves her room to go to the bathroom at the end of the hall

instead of dread, Kevin feels calm about the upcoming conversation

he doesn’t prepare lies, doesn’t run away, doesn’t resort to assholery

he just stays put where he is on the floor, snuggles deeper into his hoodie, and waits for relief, for the truth

he waits for Juliet

#wow that was longer than expected #should i keep this going? #doesn't feel worth it #but i love kevin so much #anyways lemme know #kevin day #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the king's men #tfc #trk #tkm #nora sakavic #kevin day x oc #kevin day x juliet #kevin day x juliet grier #bi kevin day #bisexual kevin day #dan wilds #aaron minyard #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #david wymack #coach wymack #kevin day fic #kevin day headcanon #kevin day hc

[itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto]

The new cast member.. Part 1

A/N: Hi everyone, this is a new mini series where reader is cast as the new agent on Criminal Minds, and Matthew has the biggest crush on her! I’m not sure how many parts I’ll do yet, but hopefully more than three! 

Everyone placed their votes over the next month and you won, the crew just needed to get hold of you to ask you, if not, they’d go with the runner up, Jodie Comer.

Flashback

“Okay guys... We’re halfway into this series and we will start to film the next one in two months, but we need your input. After the departure of Agent Smith, we need a new agent and would like all of you to vote for who you’d like to be casted.” The director, Simon, began, “Obviously, we cannot guarantee that we will be able to please all of you, but we have had letters from fans with suggestions.”

“Those suggestions are Jodie Comer from Killing Eve, Y/N Y/S/N who’s a comedian from the U.K and has a Netflix special, Ellen Page from the Umbrella Academy and Phoebe Waller-Bridge from Fleabag.” Daniella, Simon’s assistant said, reading from her laptop.

“Isn’t Y/N Y/S/N the one you have a crush on?” Shemar whispered to Matthew.

Matthew’s cheeks flushed, “No.”

“Your cheeks say otherwise.” Kirsten said squishing his cheeks, unlike his character, Matthew loved PDA. “So cute.” She added.

“We can all vote for her if you want Matthew.” Thomas said sipping his coffee.

“She’s so funny, I think she has a gig here next month. We should all go.” A.J suggested to everyone on the table.

“She is. Matthew and I watched her comedy special on Netflix and I wet myself laughing.” Paget said as Matthew’s cheeks continued to flush as he sunk into his seat.

“I’ll sort tickets.” Daniella said, looking at her laptop. “Anyone who wants to go let me know by the end of Wednesday.”

“I don’t even think Y/N Y/S/N has an agent, so she is probably the easiest of the four to get hold of.” Matthew finally said.

“Are you going pretty boy?” Shemar asked Matthew with a smirk.

Matthew nods, “Yeah. Like Paget said, she’s hilarious.”

“And you totally have a crush on her.” A.J said as Matthew’s cheeks went red again as he sipped his coffee.

One month later, you are in California for your week run at a comedy venue whilst the cast and crew are getting in their seats whilst you are backstage going over your jokes again. It’s your last day of the show but you are here for a week more to explore the city.

“I can’t believe we get to see her live, one of the ushers said the venue was sold out for the entire week!” Kirsten said, all excited, just like her character, Penelope.

“Anyone want a drink from the bar?” Joe asked

“Sure, I’ll give you a hand.” Matthew said getting up. “Everyone want their usual?” He asks

They all nod.

At the bar

“Are you excited Matthew?” Joe asks, as he sips his beer.

“Yeah. I’m a bit nervous too, for some reason. I feel like I’m the one about to go on stage.” Matthew laughed to himself.

“It’s because you like her, we all know.” Joe said as Matthew sips his beer, rolling his eyes as he pays for the drinks as Joe paid for the ones at dinner.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the show is going to start in 10 minutes, if you’d all like to go the bathroom, get a drink from the bar, go for a cigarette, whatever, I don’t care, just be back in 10 minutes. Oh, and exclusively for my last show here, I’m doing a 30 minute Q&A after the show so if you tweet your questions to me with the hashtag #asky/nshit , my Twitter name/handle is @Y/T/N and I will answer some of them at the end of the show, as well as talking to you lovely lot who have questions but don’t have social media.” You say through the intercom.

“My girlfriend saw the show yesterday, she said she wet her pants, she felt like our baby was going to come out there and then.” A guy said to his friend at the bar.

“That’s reassuring.” Matthew said to them as he joined Joe and went back to their seats

“Group selfie!” Kirsten said once Joe and Matthew got back into their seats and posted it to Instagram with the caption, “Team Criminal Minds on a night out seeing the hilarious @Y/N !!”

Meanwhile backstage, you hear your phone ping, you only have your notifications on for your favourite Instagrams, Twitters and texts.

You look at the photo Kirsten just uploaded and liked it, “Enjoy the show guys, I certainly enjoy yours! Thank you for coming!” You comment on it, trying not to glance at your favourite, and crush, Matthew.

“2 minutes Y/N.” The stage manager smiled at you. “The bar said they’ll bring you up a glass of water and a beer during the interval too.” He said

“Thanks Tommy, you’ve been awesome this week for my first time in America. I’ve left you and the team a present in your office.” You said with a smile

“Oh my god! She replied guys!” Kirsten squealed at her phone as Matthew glances at it with a smile.

You walk on stage after introducing yourself, with a little crowd work and then you start.

“And that’s why I don’t take my Grandma out for dinner anymore.” You say finishing the joke as everyone is left in stitches and crying of laughter. “Okay everyone, little 15 minute break so I can scream into the void, and you can all get another drink, cigarette, have a quickie, whatever … and then I will be back to for the Q&A so there is still time to tweet me a question or think of one and I’ll pick on you in the second half!” You say and walk off stage leaving everyone laughing and clapping.

“Her material is so clever, she swears but it’s not offending anyone.” Shemar says.

“Have you asked a question Matthew?” A.J asks

“No. I can’t think of anything.” Matthew lied

“Are you single? Asking for a friend. #asky/nshit” A slightly tipsy Paget tweets

“No don’t tweet it...” Matthew said trying to grab Paget’s phone off her.

“It’s gone lover boy.” Joe laughed

“I need a drink.” Matthew groaned

“Coming right up.” Thomas said and went to the bar with Shemar and Kirsten

“Delete that. Please.” Matthew pleaded to Paget

“Nu-uh. It’s time you got out there Matthew.” Paget winked

15 minutes later the show starts again, as does the Q&A

“Okay so first question, from @TomS89, what is your favourite TV show? Oh that’s easy… Criminal Minds.” You smile, winking at the cast but choose not to say they’re in the audience.

You go through a few more questions, “Ha this one made me laugh from @pagetpaget Are you single? Asking for a friend. Paget, I’m a single pringle. Your friend can talk to me as long as he’s cute.” You smile, wondering who her friend could be.

You continue your questions for the remaining 20 minutes, overrunning slightly as you were thanking the team at the venue for everything that they did for you. “Thanks guys! I’ll hopefully be back soon! If anyone has any recommendations for what I should do, please tweet them to me, I’m here another week.” You say, bow and walk off stage and the lights go back up as everyone applauds.

“My cheeks hurt laughing from laughing so much.” Kirsten said, as Shemar wrapped his arm around her waist as Matthew looked down, wishing he had someone special to do that to.

“Do you mean your ass cheeks or your facial cheeks?” A.J asked laughing

“Both.” Kirsten laughed

“Anyone up for a drink at the bar down the road? We don’t have filming tomorrow.” Thomas suggested

“Sure.” Everyone agrees and heads to the bar.

“We should have tweeted asking if she’d join us at the bar.” A.J said nudging Matthew

At the bar

“Is that… No way...” Kirsten said, with her jaw dropping.

  To be continued!

Taglist: @pumpkin-goob , @jpegjade , @andiebeaword , @hopebaker , @hotchsbabygirl , @hercleverboy , @cupcake525 , @gubetube , @aperrywilliams , @cosmic-psychickitty , @marleyhotchner

#criminal minds fic #Matthew Gray Gubler #shemar moore #Thomas Gibson #paget brewster #kirsten vangsness #aj cook #joe mantegna #Matthew Gray Gubler fiction #Matthew Gray Gubler fluff #my fics

[sweetgloss]

AAAA IT’S FINALLY HERE!! THE TRAILER FOR OUR ALL WOMEN & NB ACTUAL PLAY DUNGEONS & DRAGONS PODCAST, EAT MY DICE!! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE

The first episode will be out on 01.08.2020 and for further updates and news be sure to follow @eatmydicepod on twitter and tumblr!

I’m the DM, Rachel. I made a post a while ago about #emdpod, asking about who would be interested in it and listing my favourite shows/podcasts - (TAZ, Crit Role, Dimension 20, DnDads, NADDPOD, The Magnus Archives...etc) to give you an idea of what kinda vibe we’re aiming for, and your response was PHENOMENAL. We’re so excited to share our (mostly Freya, our wonderful editor’s) hard work with you!! We’re trying for that sweet sweet good representation & diversity alongside a compelling story and a lot of jokes, some good, some bad, all gay.

PLEASE ENJOY THE TRAILER! image id and transcript under the cut

[image ID: a logo of a pink d20 decorated like a cupcake with cutlery behind it is in the centre with an indigo circle background. The logo reads ‘E M D Podcast’ and above it “Eat My Dice” is written. Around the logo is the release date - first of August 2020, social media icons with the handle @eatmydicepod, and icons for a number of podcast platforms: apple podcast, spotify, google podcast, overcast, castbox, and breaker, with the caption ‘and more!’  This is visible onscreen for the whole video, the audio is two minutes and forty-six seconds.End ID]

TRAILER TRANSCRIPT

TRANSCRIPT STARTS

[dramatic music - Rieyama Theme]

On the first of August, on Apple Podcast, Spotify, and most major podcast distributors.  

We proudly present season one of Eat My Dice, an all women and enby actual play Dungeons and Dragons podcast!

Our top priorities are weaving a diverse and inclusive story, kissing npcs and telling a lot of terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad jokes.

[dramatic music stops]

[Rachel] Someone was writing down those, right?

[Jay] Oh! I wrote it down. [happier music - Road to Sudrach] I wrote dick, tongue removed, sandy foot, and fly.  And then I drew a snail.

Welcome to Rieyama, the land claimed by the gods, their strongest link to the prime material plane and the channel through which they reap the benefits of worship, right at the very edge of the vast Hyperion Galaxy.

However, an unexplained surge of necrotic energy in the forbidden heart of the continent threatens the fragile peace accord – and our three heroes are on the case.

Ser Bramley of house Hemaris, an aasimar bear totem barbarian, a loveable, strong gal with a heart of gold.

[Rachel] It looks like an anatomical diagram.

[Jay] Oh shit, is it just a dick?

[Rachel] Yeah, it’s a dick.  It looks like two sort of squiggly lines next to each other.

[Jay] …Two dicks

Rami Sinha, a half-elf psionic soul sorcerer and monk, secret badass and all-round extremely good boy.

[Jay - as Bram] Yeah…..

[Berry - as Rami] (overlapping) I - I - I’m quite good at process of elimination, I do a lot of sudoku in my spare time.

[Bram] What is sudoku? Just quickly, what is it?

[Rami] It’s a number puzzle.

[Bram] But you do that for fun?

[Rami] Why yes, of course, it’s a very well known form of number puzzle in fact, I could explain it to you, if you…

Antonia of Stormgarde, tempest domain cleric and wild magic sorcerer, seafarer, and perhaps a little less wise than her stats would indicate.

[Bram] Can I ask what kind of crimes? Is that too much?

[Freya - as Antonia] Nothing too bad…

[Bram] Murder?

[Antonia] Not very much murder.

[Bram] (overlapping) Grand larceny.

[Antonia] Yes.  Probably grand larceny.

[Bram] (laughing) Tax fraud?

[Antonia] Oh absolutely.  I haven’t paid taxes in years.

Plunge with them into a world of magic and mystery, of love and loss, of friends and foes – and perhaps a dungeon or dragon or two. This is season one of Eat My Dice – HONED.

[Berry] Please do not actually eat your dice!

(laughter)

[Jay] I mean, you can if you want to, we’re not stopping you.

[Freya] (overlapping) No! No!

[Rachel] No! We’re gonna get sued! We’re gonna get sued and I won’t represent any of you!

(laughter)

TRANSCRIPT ENDS

#emdpod #eat my dice podcast #dungeons and dragons #dungeons and dragons podcast #d&d #d&d podcast #critical role #dimension 20 #dimension 20 acoc #acoc #naddpod #taz #the adventure zone #crit role #d20 #tma #the magnus archives #wlw #nblw #pride #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtqia #taz balance #dnd #dnd podcast #not another dnd podcast #fantasy high #a crown of candy #the unsleeping city

[10dance]

10 Dance ch. 33 Highlights

We’re finally at the end of arc 1 with chapter 33 - He is Beautiful. Catch up on the plot with the summary and I’ll be writing about a few moments under the cut.

(P.S. there were 22 dance pages in total, and to not spoil the experience I’ll be sharing just part of a page since I really liked the Shinyas in that one)

(vol 6 chapter highlights: 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | booklet)

The first scene was Aki asking why nobody told her about today being the last training session. I like that Sugi just stayed silent while Suzu tries to explain and the girls look at them like >:( haha. Seeing Aki teary-eyed makes me sad so this was already an poignant chapter for me starting from page 4. 

After that, Aki asks to dance with Fusako one last time while Fusako talks about Norman. There’s not much to add here except my immature brain laughing at the word 禁忌 (kinki) which means taboo/forbidden in Japanese. Yes, my humor really stoops as low as this, I’m sorry. Chapter 35 made Norman’s feelings towards Angela more ambiguous and the sentence “a forbidden love between brother and sister” definitely does not help. 

The Shinyas head to the park for their last dance after their short group session, and while there were many shots of the Ginza scenery in this chapter, I couldn’t match any of the pages to Inoue-sensei’s photos except this one that was posted in August 2020. The road block looks almost identical though the surroundings are a bit different. 

(While going through her old photos, it seems like she started taking photos of the streets all the way back in June, 4 months before chapter 33 was out. Just how long did she work on this chapter..?)

And then came the dance marathon. There isn’t a time I read through the dance sequence without getting at least a little bit emotional and the pages really do look fantastic. The flashback panels do a good job of recapping the entire series up until now, and the bubbly screentones amp it up to 100%. It’s almost like I can feel their love through the pages as they dance all around the city. There’s a brief intermission with one of the taxi drivers telling his client that those two are friends doing ballroom dancing together. I love the idea of the taxi drivers sort of watching over them and smiling like this, it’s so touching. (It also makes me laugh that he genuinely thinks the Shinyas are friends, just two bros holding each other in a loving way)

Here’s the part of a spread I mentioned, it’s the 18th page of the whole sequence. All the different angles the Shinyas were drawn from look very nice and while it’s not filled with action like sports mangas tend to be, it’s definitely not boring to look at and the second to last page where they danced till sunrise was a perfect way to end the dance marathon. Tomorrow has come, and now their time together has to come to an end, but it’s reassuring to know that they love each other. 

This chapter seemed so final that I was in a panic the morning this chapter cover was released on Twitter (the caption said “the two groups, going their separate ways” and I took that in the worst way lol). I was so relieved when I heard that this was just the end of the first arc, and I’m sure Inoue-sensei has lots of things to write about in arc 2!

#10dance #10 dance #10 dance volume 6 #ch 33 #text #highlights #suzuki shinya #sugiki shinya

[catdotjpeg]

[Image ID: A screenshot from the website The City. At the top, the words “Essential Workers” appear in small text; beneath it, in larger text, the headline reads “Food Delivery Workers Toiling Through Historic Flooding Call Skimpy Wages and Tips ‘A Cruel Joke’”. The byline reads “by Claudia Irizarry Aponte, Sep 2 2021, 9:40PM EDT”. There is a series of three photos of a delivery worker on a motor scooter in knee-deep floodwater struggling with a red delivery bag. The caption for these images reads “Delivery workers toiled amid the flood for less than $12 an hour in some cases as the remnants of Hurricane Ida poured over the region Wednesday night.” End ID.] 

As the remnants of Hurricane Ida barreled down on New York City Wednesday night, stranding vehicles on highways and bringing mass transit to a halt, Mayor Bill de Blasio urged people to stay off the roads so first responders could help storm victims.

But many of the city’s delivery workers had no choice but to go outside to make a living, carting food in sometimes hip-deep water for what some called “pathetic” pay.

Some suffered damage to their e-bikes, which cost around $3,500 each.

“It’s a cruel joke,” said Toño Solís, a member of the delivery worker labor collective Los Deliveristas Unidos, of the lousy wages and tips he received. “This is exactly why we protest and we organize — we need fair wages. These companies are getting richer and richer and we’re only earning $5 in these conditions.”

Solis made his final delivery of the night at 9:30 p.m. He said he earned just $5 for the hour-long trip to deliver the meal in Brooklyn from Astoria, including tip. His total earnings for his 9.5-hour workday were just $115 — or roughly $12 an hour with tips.

The Few, The Brave

By 10 p.m. Wednesday, all of the city’s subway lines were out of service and sections of many major roadways were underwater, including the FDR Drive in Manhattan and the Major Deegan Expressway in The Bronx.

Around that same time, a Twitter user shared a video of a delivery worker in Brooklyn toting a bag of takeout in knee-deep water. The video quickly went viral, amassing more than 6 million views and garnering the attention of Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-The Bronx/Queens).

“Please do not be the person who orders delivery during a flash flood that the NWS has deemed a dangerous and life-threatening situation. It puts vulnerable people at risk,” Ocasio-Cortez wrote. “If it’s too dangerous for you, it’s too dangerous for them.” [...]

[Image ID: A screenshot shows how little one delivery worker made during the flooding on Wednesday. From 7:51 AM to a little after 12:39 PM, they earned $34.26. End ID.]

“This was the most horrible day ever on the job,” [Lázaro] Morales[, a Grubhub worker in Astoria, Queens], who earned $277 total on Grubhub including tips after 14 hours of work, told THE CITY. “The clients are very inconsiderate: As long as they get their meal, they don’t care about us.”

Customers, he said, should be more considerate — but so should the apps, said fellow Astoria courier Saúl Bazán, who also delivers for Grubhub. “This just proves what we’ve been asking for,” Bazán said. “We deserve to be paid hourly wages, and then tips. This isn’t worth it. It’s abusive.”

Small Tips, Little Protection

Los Deliveristas Unidos, of which Morales and Bazán are also members, have protested and asked local and state elected officials to intervene and force tech companies to pay workers hourly wages, among other demands.

The delivery workers initially banded together amid the pandemic, arguing that they’ve been treated poorly even while risking their health to help keep New Yorkers fed during the worst of the coronavirus crisis. [...] 

A Grubhub spokesperson said in a written statement that delivery workers are allowed to decline assignments and that the company on Wednesday “paused” deliveries “as needed based on local conditions” Wednesday. The spokesperson did not immediately respond to a follow-up question about when exactly the pause was in effect. 

-- Claudia Irizarry Aponte for The City, Sept 2 2021

You can read more about Los Deliveristas Unidos, many of whose members are Indigenous Mexicans and Guatemalans, on their website. 

#labor rights #worker's rights #new york #new york city