#hockey hooligans

[lesbianjennybrown]

Notes

- these are only including bands that exist purely in the pnf universe, thus disqualifying Bowling for Soup and Big Bad Voodoo Daddy

- each group has to have more than one member, disqualifying Lindana and Marty the rabbit boy

-each group has to have a song with a title in a phineas and ferb episode which disqualifies swine flute and Marty the rabbit boy again

-and finally, this only counts groups that are in episodes, not including movies or crossover special

-Marty the rabbit boy isn’t qualified bc 1) the blender is a musical instrument 2) he doesn’t have a named song in the show, he just covers other songs

Edit: I’m expecting this to be a Love Händel sweep… but I kinda want to be surprised

Edit 2 : I’m surprised only 1 person voted for the group responsible for S.I.M.P. (2 guyz N the Parque)

#phineas and ferb #pnf #dwampyverse #candace flynn #heinz doofenshmirtz #phineas flynn #ferb fletcher #perry the platypus #poll #love handel #max modem #2 guyz n the parque #the paisley sideburn brothers #the Baljeatles #tiny cowboy #Linda’s jazz trio #the Betty’s #Zanzibar #Jeremy and the incidentals #hockey hooligans #phineas and the fern tones

[dwampyverse-tournaments]

Hockey Z9 vs. Lots of Me

#pnf #pnf songs #pnf songs tournament #phineas and ferb #pnf music #dwampyverse #poll #poll bracket #poll tournament #tournament poll #dwampyverse tournament #hockey hooligans #robbie wyckoff #for your ice only #hockey z9 #heinz doofenshmirtz #doofenshmirtz #night of the living pharmacists #lots of me

[tiger-in-the-flightdeck]

Leonard 'Cold As Ice' Snart: Huh. It's been almost twenty minutes since I explained to a murderer just how much Flash and I like each other. I better do something about that.

#leonard snart #captain cold #the flash #coldflash #like shipper goggles notwithstanding #this guy fucking loves barry #and will tell anyone who will listen #everyone else must have hated it when len was on the JLA #because he probably did. not. shut. up. about how amazing barry is #kal would be trying to microwave his burrito and jack frost's sugar daddy pops up behind him #so he's already prepared with 'Yes Len. I know you put ten grand on the last race between me and Barry.' #'I'm very glad that you knew that he was going to beat me. No I don't need to hear why for the thirteenth time this week.' #'Oh goodness is that the time? I have to go get a kitten out of a tree.' #green arrow starts in with his usual Anti-Barry stance #and gets backed into a corner by a hockey hooligan dressed like an ice pixie #who gets up in his face and makes him take back every mean thing he ever said about His Flash #under threat of having his fingers frozen and snapped off let's see you fire an arrow now you rich hypocrite

[equallyshaw]

nova scotia princess | nico Hischier

nico hischier x oc marchand

warnings: swearing, mostly fluff and some sweet moments between her and her siblings.

word count: 4.3k

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

marie celine marchand had been in new york for the past year, much to brad's dismay. he hadn't seen her since christmas, and was shocked to see her at his doorstep up north. it was now july during the off season, and marie had decided to head on up to nova scotia, for her birthday no less.

◦

the youngest of the five, she could not have been more different from the rest. she never engaged in hockey (i know! a sin!) never took any inkling towards skating or snow sports, but instead towards soccer, her first love. she was enamored with it and it took her to faraway places with team canada and for her college years at the university of stanford. she had a very hard time leaving california but knew it was best to start fresh, and it just so happened that she loved new york. at the time, it was only a 40 minute drive to her long time childhood friend, ryan graves before he was traded to the pittsburgh penguins. the day he was traded, he gave her a phone call and she was completely gutted. yet she understood the business side of the league, though brad had gotten the better part of it his entire career. after he was traded, she hadn't thought about the new jersey devils as the season rolled around. she no longer had something tying her to them, so she moved on and supported her friend's ryan and sidney on the pens from afar. it wasn't until she found her self in upper manhattan meeting up with some girls from work at a little known and upscale restaurant, that she had saw some of the people she'd grown close to over ryan's stint with the team. she walked past them towards her table, most certainly garnering some looks once they heard the familiar name of marie celine from the group of girls. she got a text from a few of them night, restarting the snapchat groupchat she had had with some of the younglings. most notably, hughes', nico and dawson. she rolled her eyes as messages flowed in that evening as the girls took some wine back to the girl's apartment.

that evening all of the caught up with one another, and then she received a text from nico askin if they wanted to get some coffee for old times sake. what did she have to lose? and so it began than, secret dates and then group dates with the team, spending weekends at a time with nico at his place getting up to whatever came about. throughout all of it, she kept it a secret from everybody besides her older sister rebecca; nobody needed to know. at least not yet.

◦

marie walked up to the front door of brad's lake house and she mentally prepared herself for the all the pestering and bombarding that would happen once she'd set a foot in the house. she pulled out the key he had given her the year he finished building it, and she quickly made work with the lock and pushed open the tall door. "brad! im home!!" she called out, smirking to herself as she heard dogs running towards her and footsteps. she looked up to see brad with wide eyes and then his famous smile. she took her hand off of her small suitcase, and met him halfway for a hug. "who's here?" "who's that?" "if its jr im gonna cry" and that made marine giggle, already knowing it was ryan. "you good?" brad questioned pulling away just a bit and she nodded, "yep! are you? you forgot to invite me for my birthday!" she said faking a pout. "kat!" he called for his wife and marie slapped his arm, "don't go blaming it on your wife you hooligan!" marie said as katrina walked in and she squeled. "i thought you were going to sw-" and then katrina cut herself off. brad looked at his wife then to marie and then they were both gone and off towards the kitchen. "we have a surprise guest!" katrina called out towards the open back door and a group of heads turned towards her. she saw her siblings, ryan, sid, nate, patrice b, pasta, their partners, a few childhood friends of the siblings and a few aunts/uncles. "damn got the whole fam i see..." she whispered to kat who giggled. "uh yeah you could say that." she said looking down at the girl as some of the guys came to say hi. "hi guys." she said looking at some of the nova scotia greats as ryan rested his arm on the brunettes head. she looked up giving him a playful dirty glare, "ah hem." she said garnering a few laughs. "well if you'll excuse me-" she paused pushing ryan's arm off of her head, "ill be down soon, i need to do a few things." she said smiling at everybody before she was off towards a guest room that was designated hers.

she sat down on the edge of the bed as she put her head in her hands, cursing the world. her phone buzzing like no tomorrow with texts from nico, the hughes brothers and dawson. she had been dodging their texts and calls after (what she thought) was nico cheating on her. they were on facetime a week ago and she could have sworn she heard somebody in the background as she heard a muffled voice and nico look in front of him one night. so when she didn't show up to the airport in switzerland the day before, nico was freaking out. which in turn freaked the other boys out. she heard a soft knock on her door, and she looked up to see ryan. she sniffled, wiping her tears as he stepped in and shut the door behind him.

she broke down even more, and ryan quickly sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around her. he had no idea why his best friend was hurting, yet he kept quiet until her sobs became softer. "mc....whats going on?" he asked as he pulled back just a bit to look at her, her cheeks stained with redness and moisture. she sniffled, "he-he's cheating on me." she said and ryan knew exactly who she as referring to, besides her sister she ofcourse told him. they were two peas in a pod, through thick and thin. ryan sighed, growing heated with anger. "and they wont stop texting me...they are worried as to why i didn't make it to switzerland but i don't wanna talk to them." she said pushing her head into his chest. ryan kissed her head, trying to calm himself. she needed her best friend, he'd take care of nico later.

◦

the next morning ryan left the marchand house early to get some coffee for him and marie. the two hadn't left her room all day. she was too much in state of disbelief, shock, and grief as she explained to nico what had happened. as soon as he was turning onto the main strip her called nico up, ready to tear him a new one. nico picked up on the fourth ring unsure as to why he was calling, "wanna fucking explain to me hischier why the fuck you cheated on the very best thing that has ever happened to you and our universe huh? why you decided to hurt the very brightest light? you are so in for it hischier, you have no idea. you have a whole league about to give you hell." ryan spat breathing rapidly. nico was at a loss for words over in switzerland. "what?" he croaked in confusion and exhaustion. since marie hadn't been responding to anybody's calls or messages, he hadn't slept. too sick with fear and anxiety. "she caught you with a girl nico, on facetime. are you seriously that daft?" ryan growled. nico thought back to their last facetime and he went through the events of it. he'd been sitting up in bed shirtless, around 11:30 his time, he was just about to go to bed after finishing his sleep tea and he then realized. she had heard his sister in the background, as she had come to visit him and the two had just gotten done playing a round of Mario kart. "christ- didn't cheat. promise." he said standing up now and looking at flights to new york. "who was it then nico?" ryan questioned, "my sister. can get flight to new york today." he said and ryan chuckled, "yeah no she ain't there." ryan said turning into the drive through, " if you're gonna make things right, you gotta come to scotia." ryan stated.

_

ryan walked back into the house with his, brad's, kat's and marie's coffee with a few breakfast sandwiches. "wanna tell me why marie is crying on the dock?" sidney said as soon as ryan walked into the kitchen. "wait what?" ryan asked setting everything down before looking towards the dock, and now seeing nate making his way down it. ryan sighed, "misunderstanding." he simply stated taking the coffees out of the tray. "misunderstanding, huh? is that why you two were locked in her room all evening?" sidney asked sipping his hot coffee. ryan sighed again, "she thought her boy-boyfriend cheated on her." was all ryan stated sipping some coffee. "boyfriend?" sidney questioned, eyes going wide. "does brad know?" he questioned, and ryan scoffed. "like he need to know every little thing in her life." and sidney wouldn't buy it. "no no, you have to tell him! or at least get her too." sidney said with authority, and ryan rolled his eyes. "sid, she doesn't want him to know at least not yet." ryan said watching nate and marie interact. nate had his arm around the brunette, as she sobbed into his shoulder. "you know we all look at her like a sister, please do the right thing. we only want the best for her and that only happens if brad knows, and you know that." sidney said before taking his cup of coffee and heading out to nate and marie. ryan groaned as kat walked in with the young kiddos. "ou! mommy juice, thankyou ry." kat said thanking the defenceman. she saw the look in his eyes, and then she look towards the crowded dock. "oh no." kat said, "oh no? whats up?" brad said walking in rubbing his eye. he paused as he saw the three of them outside, huddled together, "whats going on?" brad asked now walking in front of ryan. "uh-" "spit it out graves." brad demanded and ryan hummed. "she thought her- her boyfriend cheated on her. but it was a misunderstanding." he stated and brad was angry. "boyfriend?! what do you mean misunderstanding graves? spill it!" he said as kat took the kids outside. "she thought her boyfriend of 10 months cheated on her but it was only his sister that she heard. i just got off the phone with the dude so its been all cleared away, i just hadn't had the chance to tell her." and then he said softer, "and tell you he's coming here." ryan said not meeting his best friends eye sight. "here? are you mad ryan! who is this so i can knock some sense into him?" brad demanded and ryan was in for it. he was cornered, there was no getting out of this. "i cant say brad, only marie can." ryan said defeatedly and brad rolled his eyes. "so you're saying that you really arent her boyfriend?" and ryan now met his eye sight in shock. "you're telling me that you two haven't been together at least at some point?" he said and ryan laughed. "oh god no, shes my sister brad. you know she hates me half the time, for good reasons but no. i couldn't ever go down that path and there has never been a moment ever for me to. ew gross." ryan said and brad sighed. "always thought it was you two against the world... man i gotta pay up." he said amusedly. "pay up?" ryan said cocking an eyebrow. "a long running bet with patrice." and now it was ryans turn to laugh. the nova scotia princess was never his and would never be.

_

on the dock, marie thanked nate for listening to her ramble and cry into his shoulder before sidney sat down. nate rubbed her upper back, trying to comfort the girl. sidney sat down and offered her some kind words, and she thanked him. "i just don't know what was not good enough for him? what did i do wrong?" she said looking off into the clear lake. sid and nate looked at one another, silently trying to get the other speak up. "nothing sunshine, nothing. its all him." sid said trying to reassure the young girl he'd seen as a little sister since the day she was born. him and brad had been in practice together when they got the call from brad's dad, urging the boys to head down to the hospital with sid's dad. the moment he had seen the young girl was how he felt when his sister was born, he'd protect and be there for her through everything. "how about a boat day?" nate offered up and marie smiled. she could never and would never pass up a boat day.

◦

it was around 10:30 pm and the original group that had been there when she'd shown up was back at the house, with all the kids passed out as they sat around talking, drinking and now making smores. ryan had been looking a this phone for the past two hours waiting to heard from nico, but nothing had come in since he had landed and was about to go through customs. marie had been having a great evening, her favorite people all in one place once again. celebrating her birthday that evening, and now talking like old times. ryan and marie sat with one another, cuddling up to stay warm now that a chill had set in. "dude, put your phone down for the princess' birthday." brad said annoyed that ryan and been on his phone for the better half of two hours. marie glared at brad, "its alright brad. no harm done." she sighed. she had a love hate relationship with the nickname, but most importantly when it was said out loud by brad. it made her cringe somewhat. "hows new york, mc?" nate asked and marie smiled then frowned softly before her smile reappeared. "its going great! work is going well and stuff. i even joined a soccer league for fun, it'll start up in august." she said swirling her drink. "we'll have to catch a game before we head to training camp." sid offered and the others agreed. she smiled softly, before ryan untangled himself from her after he got a text message. nico had arrived. brad eyed ryan as he got up and walked into the house. kat smiled softly knowing what was going to happen and nudged brad in the side a bit. "its fine, let them be." kat whispered and brad rolled his eyes.

marie shut her eyes softly, just basking in this moment, this evening and few days she had taken off of work to be here. it had been far too long since the last time she'd been home, always using her summers to train in san diego before returning to school. she hadn't been home in 6 years and promised herself that she'd make it up here more, now that she lived in new york. "oh princess!" she heard ryan call from the house and she sighed, standing up and throwing the blanket onto the seat before heading inside. "yes grumpy prince?" she asked giggling before she froze, seeing nico. he had a hopeful yet loving gaze on his face as she looked at him with tears beginning to form. what was he doing here? she turned towards ryan who had begun to make his way out, and she pulled him back inside as he was already through the threshold. "wanna tell me why he's here ryan?!" she asked upset. "ask him-" and she cut him off, "no, you tell me!" she screamed now alerting some of the guys outside. nico stood on the other side of the kitchen, with a defeated look on his face with guilt and regret spreading throughout his body. "he cheated on me and you're going to invite him here, ryan? tell me why that was a good idea, huh?" she pestered as brad walked in. "no fucking way." he muttered staring down nico, and nico took a step back. "answer me!" she yelled at ryan who held his hands up in innocence. "marie-" she cut off her brother, "you knew?!" she said stepping back away from the two. "let him explain himself." ryan said as she looked at the two people she thought she could trust in this world. thankfully, so far nate and sid hadn't given her any reason to distrust them. "let him explain, please. if you still don't believe him or want him gone- ill-we'll get rid of him." brad said pleading to his baby sister and she sighed, arms crossing over her chest. she turned slowly towards nico who had a pleading look, and her heart twinged just a bit. "fine." she said and the two smiled widely, backing out into the back and brad shut the doors.

"follow me." she said walking past him and they began their dissent up the stairs. she opened the door and let him walk past her into the room, and she shut it behind them. she then went to the window and shut the blinds, but not before flipping the group off. she heard groans and a few 'fuck' as they all wanted to hear and see the drama unfold. "i didn't cheat, schatzi. i promise." he began and she shook her head, "alright bud." she said rubbing her eyes. "i didn't baby, you have to believe me." he began again and she shook her head again. "who was it, huh? somebody like your ex? was it somebody better than me? what did i do wrong, ni. what did i do to hurt you?" she questioned through a strained voice. nico shook his head, "you've never hurt me, you've never done a thing wrong. promise. the girl-"he chuckled pulling her hands into his, inching closer to her. "the girl was my sister, nina." he said a bit amused now. his eyes crinkled as he smiled, his dimples on full display as he looked into the eyes of the girl, he loved. "wait what?" marie asked in disbelief. "your sister?" she asked and he nodded. she looked down and nico quickly diffused her guilt, "schatzi its ok, i promise!" he said pulling her chin up to look at him. she shook her head, "i - i mis read things and i feel like an idiot." she hummed tearing her chin away. "misunderstanding." he hummed and she frowned. "im sorry." she said with tears beginning to form, "im an idiot. oh my god." she said and he pulled her info a hug. he kissed her head, rubbing her back softly. "im a fool, im a utter fool how could i be so daft?" she rambled in french and nico chuckled, "you two have thing for the word daft?" and marie cursed the universe for him knowing french. "wait, two? who?" she questioned pulling back to look up at him. "nico yelled at me yesterday." he said laughing now and marie had a concerned look on her face, "how bad?" and that made nico laugh even louder. whenever she needed back up, he was there to give it. she looked up at nico as his laughs subsided and she stood on her tip toes to kiss him. he pulled her in closer, leaning down a bit so her feet could be flat. they pulled apart, resting their foreheads on each others. "so, how much trouble am i with the guys outside?" he questioned softly and now it was her turn to laugh.

◦

it was the next morning now and marie woke up to an empty bed, groaning before getting out of bed. she made her way over to the blinds and opened the blinds to see kat, patrices and david's girlfriend, and the kids on the patio eating breakfast while all the guys are missing. she squinted over towards the lake and she did a double take before seeing her brother's boat. it was a crowded boat, with all of them sitting facing one another. she spotted nico and prayed that the guys weren't going too hard on him. after the two spoke last night, they made there way downstairs for a bit before nico was on the verge of passing out due to the time difference. she quickly changed into a white t-shirt and linen pants, before heading down he stairs. "ti!" she heard rue screamed as she walked outside, and quickly made her way over towards the older girl. she wrapped her arms around the girl's legs before rue pulled her up for a hug. "good morning my girl." she said speaking in french as the two shared a small moment in the morning sun. "hows my favorite god daughter?" she hummed and kat laughed, "your only god daughter." she mused. marie giggled, "that's why she's my favorite." she said setting her back down in her height chair, and sat down on the bench with noah , patrice's son. "ouu cinnamon rolls!" the girl overly gushed, garnering some giggles from the kids. "ever the oldest child." kat teased and marie winked, "i take my role very seriously." she hummed.

the boat was on its way back now after a very stern talk with nico, unfortunately. basically threatening his very existence if he were to ever step out of line. the usual. oh, and that there was somebody or two on every team who would not hesitate to teach him a lesson. nico and the guys all got off onto the dock, with ryan running in front to get some cinnamon rolls- steal is more like it. "hey! that's for us." marie said swatting his hand away as he came up behind her, "i swear to god grumps, im gonna cut off your hand." she said quirking an eyebrow between the two's showdown. "good morning princess!" brad said placing a kiss on the girl's head before stealing a cinnamon roll himself. "hey, not fair!" ryan said and marie mimicked him, earning a chorus laugh from the kids. "im the one that brought them." brad said shrugging, "no i did." sid said and patrice shook his head, "you brought the original one's, i was told to pick up another dozen." patrice said picking up his youngest, felix. "yall are too much in the morning." she mumbled in french, standing up and walking inside to get some coffee. nico followed her into the kitchen to get a refill on his, to which she happily poured him some. "how bad was it?" she questioned, peering around him quickly and then looked back at him. he shrugged, "theyre just as scary in life as on ice." he said and she giggled. "yeah...they have no filter." she said pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. "tell me about 'nova scotia princess'." and she rolled her eyes, "the fairest of them all." he added with a grin and she growled loudly. "you inconceivable fools!" she yelled out, making her way outside. "im going to kill you all!!!!" she said looking at sid, nate, ryan and brad. she did a fake start towards brad before going after nate, "come here nathaniel!" she screamed running after the man, who was, unfortunately, being outrun by a 5'4 semi-retired defenceman. "somebody help me here!" nate called out and sid began his dissent, but she was too quick and made her way after him. "you are so getting in that water!" she screamed, referring to a tradition the 5 of them had. a surprise morning swim in the cold water. "its cold!" one of the kids screamed and marie laughed. "perfect!" she grinned. ryan tapped nico, "lets get our girl." ryan said nodding towards the brunette and nico smiled. "lets get her." and the two made their way towards the water where she was running after the two. "no!" she screamed as ryan almost grabbed the girl. "don't you dare!" she said jumping a few feet away from him. thankfully with sid and nate being neighbors, she freely began her way towards their places with the group following her. nico was the one closest to and almost grabbed her as well but she took a step to her right and was out of reach, "alright i gotta do it myself!" brad announced jogging over and marie knew it was game over. "not the old man!" she gasped, earning a few chuckles.

it was not brad who got the girl but nico, who was immediately instructed to drop her off the dock and into the lake. she screamed, cried, and kicked but unsuccessfully as she felt water hit her back. as she came up, everybody else decided it would be a great idea to also jump in. she covered her head momentarily before splashing water in all directions, "you! you traitor!" she said with astonishment as nico tried to get closer. ryan dunked her before she could say anything else, and nico laughed with the rest of them. she came back up and pushed ryan, "rude!" "the princess of nova scotia is officially home!" brad said as he made his way towards her, ready to splash her as well.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

hope you all enjoyed!! pls like and reblog if you did!

random tags: @hischiershoe @nicohischierz @cuttergauthier @skatesnstuff @fallinallincurls

#nico hischier #nico hischier x oc #nico hischier blurb #nico hischer fic #nico hischier imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #hockey burb #hockey imagine #ryan graves #sidney crosby #brad marchand #nathan mackinnon #boston bruins #boston bruins blurb #new jersey devils blurb

[pink-key]

Old 2015 version

A young man was sitting on a concrete block, lacing up his rollerblades. His hands were shaking with excitement. He had been thinking about this upcoming moment for several years. Tightening the tongue of his skate, he stood up and rolled forward slightly. He looked around. The building he was in was once supposed to be a small shopping center, but the company went bankrupt and left the building in an unfinished state. This place had been his refuge ever since.

His appearance was not remarkable: disheveled long black hair and always tired gray eyes with an eternal, distant look. He was wearing an old, tattered sweatshirt and dark pants, in which some small holes were already visible, undoubtedly the result of street fights.

Taking the claw hammer, he swung it a couple of times and quietly muttered, barely smiling, "Everything should go perfectly; it would be a shame to end up in that damned hospital with a broken leg again."

At a young age, he was hit by a car, resulting in hospitalization. At that time, there were many war veterans there. Every day, he heard their groans, cries of agony, and curses when they realized that their limbs could not be saved. This moment stuck in his subconscious; he felt a certain detachment from reality, his consciousness slowly peeling away from his brain. At least that's how he described it to his overprotective mother. Like any mother, she was worried about her son, but she did not consider therapists and psychologists to be real doctors and treated his mental health in her own way. She worked as a court assistant lawyer and often brought pictures from her work. These were photographs of crime scenes, and she thought that by showing them to her son, the boy would not consider blood or corpses, for that matter, as something scary. She was always too close for his comfort.

Ruffling his hair sharply with his free hand, he shook his head. He didn't want these memories to ruin his night. He glanced at his belongings lying on a nearby cement block. A shabby backpack, a couple of trinkets and his old hockey stick. He grinned, taking the hockey stick and putting it in the case on his back that wrapped around his torso. He glanced at his watch. 2:34, time to act. Leaving the abandoned building, he skated on a deserted road.

With every second, emotions of immense joy filled him more and more, although he had not even reached his goal yet. He had not felt such bursting emotions for a long time; they were comparable to those he felt when he learned to roller-skate. 

He considered skates an extension of himself and felt awkward not wearing them. After all, he could run away or catch up with anyone when he was wearing them. He especially enjoyed it when he skated away from a salesman after stealing a sandwich or chips from him. His friends praised him for his agility and speed. However, they were hooligans and often fought and abused stray animals. He didn't spend much time with them; he believed that animals should not be tortured. All human beings, even children, are born spoiled and prone to cruelty, while animals do not have human thoughts and a thirst for sadism. He was so obsessed with this philosophy that the smell of cooked meat started to make him vomit. 

A girl appeared on the horizon. No older than 25, she wore a short dress that barely covered her bottom. She stared at her phone, typing something on it. She didn't care about the slightly cool wind or the completely empty road on which she stood. He was looking for her.

He leaned a little, gaining speed, and squeezed the hammer in his hand while whistling a simple classic tune.

"Hey, Oli-dolly! You're not a man? Why are you refusing meat? Should I knock the crap out of you? Frigging princess, all polite, quiet, well-mannered. You fight like a girl too." Words ringed in his head. If he was provoked, he had no brakes; he was ready to fight to the death. That moment in the past was no exception either. The long refusal of food made him more sullen, any bullying addressed to him angered him more easily than usual; when he grappled with the leader of their gang, he couldn't restrain himself and, out of hatred, bit off part of his opponent's cheek. In that instance, he realized how to live, everything seemed to fall into place for him, as if with the snap of fingers. Undoubtedly, all people are corrupt, but there are those who do not even try to pretend to be correct and give themselves over to their pleasures and sadistic inclinations. What if there was a way to erase them from existence completely? After all, their soul cannot exist outside their flesh, just burying the corpse won't be enough.

A dull sound echoed down the street. The girl fell to the ground. There was a pause as Oli slowly lowered his arm after the blow. He thought he would behave like the killers from the films, laugh loudly, shake with happiness, and burst into loud speeches. Yet he stood quietly, watching his victim, a slight shiver of adrenaline running through his body. Blood dripped down her silky blonde hair. She raised her head, looking in disbelief and horror at the teenager in front of her.

"O-oli?! Why... why did you do that?"

Tears poured out of her eyes. Not waiting for an answer, she got up, wobbling, and rushed in the opposite direction from him. He skated smoothly behind her, wondering how long she could run with a smashed head. She could not scream out words from the stupor of fear. However, when she gained strength, seeing the light in the windows of a house in the distance, Oli took out his hockey stick and knocked the girl down with it. She fell, face on the ground.

He hit the girl on the back with his weapon, so she couldn't make any more loud sounds. The man moved in front of her face, waiting for her to lift her bloody head up.

Sofia didn't do anything bad to him. She was very close to him, playing the role of an older sister to him and other street children in their area. Occasionally, she made snarky, playful remarks to them when they engaged in various hooliganism. However, Oli always considered her useless. She was from a dysfunctional family, of no use to anyone, bringing nothing to society. Only a rich family man wanted her body. No one will remember her or miss her. Therefore, he chose her as his first project, a kind of realization of his philosophy; it became his passion and meaning, without which he could not live.  --

"Did you guys hear? That maniac, Hitblade, killed someone again. Like, the quiet one from sociology, Rebecca or Raven was it." An anxious brown-haired girl sat down at the table where four of her classmates were having lunch.

"They haven't caught him yet? How hard is it to catch a cannibal on roller skates? Our police are completely slacking." Her red-haired classmate sitting opposite her answered displeasedly.

"I recently heard from a youtuber he ended up beating and eating his mother when he was a teen, even lived with her corpse for months, but these are just speculations, and these crimes are stated to not be related. Eh, don't worry, you look too young to be his next target." the third talkative classmate whispered, sneering awkwardly.

"Ahem, guys, I'm scared you know, I work the evening shift, what if he kills me?" The brunette muttered anxiously.

"Yes, I'm worried about you, Miriam. Oh, I have an idea! What if I accompany you after work to your home? I will be passing by there anyway, need to return a book to a friend." The black-haired guy said with notes of concern in his voice, moving his laptop away.

"You know, it's a good idea. He never attacks girls who're with someone. I finish at 22:00 you know the place." she said calming down.

"Of course." He answered with a gentle smile.

"Thank you, Oli!"

#christ this is so cringe #i want to jump out of the window #but hey dont bully me for my 2015 fanfic which i adjusted a bit #maybe i should have rewritten it completely #either way thanks for reading #fanfic #my work #art #creepypasta #oc #my fic #fanfiction #creepypasta art #creepy art #creepypasta oc #creepypasta original character #creepypasta stories #spooky #hitblade #oliver savin #oli #oli-dolly #oc art #original charact #original character #my oc

[dylan-duke]

let the angst begin! send in thoughts

"mom you can't tell them please," ryleigh pleads grabbing onto ellen's hand tight,

"darling," ellen pleads eyes sad as she stares at her youngest daughter, who is laying in a hospital bed, "darling we need to tell them. they want to know," ryleigh shakes her head, adamantly,

"no. they need to focus mom; they need to focus on hockey," ellen reaches out and cups her daughter face,

"you're hurting darling," ellen mumbles, "you're going in to get a cancerous tumor removed from your lungs. at least call rutger please you need someone," ryleigh shakes her head again,

"no he has a tournament to win," ryleigh reminds her mother causing ellen to heave out a breath,

"you're being difficult," ryleigh giggles smiling up at her mom cheekily,

"dont you know that that's why i was put on this earth?" ellen chuckles shaking her head,

"i think its why all four of my hooligan children have been put onto this earth,"

#hehe #im sorry now #ryleigh hughes #rutger mcgroarty #ellen hughes

[yankstrash]

liked by grumpy.boldy, gabeperreault44 and others

amelia.ln: second day ✅ second pic is grumps side eye after i said i was gonna strand her at hockey practice tn

view 130 comments

grumpy.boldy: you better fucking not amelia..

↪️ amelia.ln: i would never 🫶🏻

↪️ grumpy.boldy: you know i can't deal with those hooligans alone

↪️ _willsmith2: sorry who you callin a hooligan?

↪️ grumpy.boldy: you, bitch

↪️ ryan.leno_4: now, honey...

↪️ grumpy.boldy: 🙄

gabeperreault44: remind me why we didn't sign up for a class together

↪️ amelia.ln: because i would get absolutely no work done

↪️ gabeperreault44: BUT YOU'LL GET WORK DONE WITH HER????

↪️ amelia.ln: silly elective baby, there is no work 😋

↪️ gabeperreault44: WELL WHY DIDN'T WE TAKE A SILLY ELECTIVE TOGETHER????

↪️ amelia.ln: BECAUSE YOUR STUPID HOCKEY SCHEDULE DOESN'T PERMIT IT

↪️ grumpy.boldy: gabe, you really need to learn how to share.

↪️ gabeperreault44: ME??????

drewf2: this isn't even a class, it's a gossip session.

↪️ amelia.ln: and?

↪️ grumpy.boldy: you think we didn't think of that when we signed up together ????

ryan.leno_4: can't believe you get to see my girlfriend more than i do

↪️ amelia.ln: well she likes me better anyways so

↪️ ryan.leno_4: fight me.

↪️ amelia.ln: i'll kill ya

↪️ grumpy.boldy: meely 😭😭

↪️ amelia.ln: sorry sweets, overprotective girlfriend mode 😔

_sunny: brb transferring to bc just to join this class

↪️ amelia.ln: DO IT DO IT DO IT!!

↪️ grumpy.boldy: SUNS PLEASEEEE

↪️ olivermoore11: she's lying.

↪️ amelia.ln: surely she's telling the truth.

cuttergauthier_: i thought i heard extra loud voices when i walked by this hall today...

↪️ amelia.ln: oh BITE ME

↪️ grumpy.boldy: yeah you did actually.

_willsmith2: i just don't see the learning aspect of this class

↪️ amelia.ln: i- i just- i just think you should stop talking.

#princess!gf x gabe perreault #g + m insta edits !

[annieqattheperipheral]

get to know me tag!

ty for tagging me @hischiersdraisaitl @23knies @barbiezal @rattkachuk 😘💕

Last song: fake - the tech thieves

found on my "now playing" list/ i.e. my phone is always listening and im cool w that long as it continues shazaaming my life for me like the true bestie it is.

Currently watching: Welcome To Wrexham

post hockey i seriously needed a heavy injection of sports and this is sorta hitting the spot (but ugh that hooligan epi was pain). i usually hit up sports docs in the off season.

and catching up on Abbott Elementary s2

Currently reading: late bloomers by rich karlgaard

creatives need this kind of affirmation and less 30 under 30 bs. also my brain is stressed and indulging in hrpf like nobody's bizness. i'm usually either non-fiction or queer romances

Current obsession(s): houseplants🌿

love starting out w teeny tiny plants or propagating from cuttings. every morning i walk around checking out their new growths🥹 and which leaves are progressing through their life cycle and slowly dying by giving their energy to the rest of the plant🫶 i observe them and don't do anything to them except provide good home conditions, followed by a single chill weekend planty session to tend to their specific needs. i have perfected parenting.

tagging: sry if you've already done it or don't feel up to it; pls know i'm just lil ol' me out here in toronto thinkin 'bout you at 1am all super creepy like (affectionate)

@sirjaybobovka @sirjaybobobka @dougiejack @robindrake13 @selkiesmile @ronandhermy @forgottenflowers @graves-makar @stereax @notthequiettype @irrelevanttous @leafsboys @warmupbrawl @hooked-from-behind @2ndgenflowers @gingercatleaf @lemondropbois

#annieQ

[heffrondriving]

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Which Side Of My Heart Are You On? ❜ : ̗̀❥ JO TAYLOR × LUCY STONE┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

: ̗̀❥ RATING: T // WORD COUNT: 9,080 // CHARACTERS: lucy stone, jo taylor // RELATIONSHIPS: lucy stone/jo taylor, obligatory kendall knight/jo taylor // TAGS: one shot, fluff, mild hurt/comfort, lil lucy angstiness, romantic tension, slice of life, friendship, pining, gay panic, flirting, confusion, internal conflict, self-denial, arguing, character study(ish), femslash, girls in love, canon compliant, useless lesbians <3, rarepair // AO3

: ̗̀❥ inspired by the song Like That by Stand Atlantic and dedicated to @digitalfate 💙

❥៚ 𝑶𝑵𝑬: 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒆 (𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒗𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆) ─ೄྀ࿐

❝ Honey-coated speech and I’m overdosing It’s just like that (It’s just like that) Delicately dying for another minute It’s just like that (It’s just like that) Gold rush, what you digging out of me? This head rush, stomach’s in my neck I gotta stand still, dizzy, dumb and in between... ❞

Things have been weird. And while Lucy wouldn’t mind a dash of weirdness cutting up the basic monotony of her daily life, this was just asking for madness.

Well...there was asking for madness, and there was turning right to madness, and Lucy felt so impossibly caught up in the middle of it all that she would have given anything to feel normal again, even just for a second.

But that was also ridiculous. She was Lucy Stone, for crying out loud! She was hardly the poster girl of normalcy, and she rocked that rollercoaster ride hard and fast, no safety bars allowed. She was an up-and-coming punk goddess shacking up in the very heart of Heartless Hollywood, land of the rich and famey and batshit crazy. She had four good friends who also happened to be rowdy hockey players slash huge popstars slash absolute troublemaking hooligans from Minnesota, all of which constantly dragged her along their insane cartoonish escapades. And believe her, Lucy had tried normal, once upon a terrible time—having apple-cheeked, insidiously overwound, suburban basketcases for parents will do that to a ponytail-pulled kid.

And still, it was amazing—infuriatingly so—how none of it held a Yankee gift-basket candle towards the weirdest way Jo had been making Lucy feel lately.

So maybe that was Lucy’s own fault, a slow undoing by her own personal hubris a-la Ajax tragedy—after all, she was the one who chose to move back to the Palm Woods, despite the rocky not-quite-history she had with the place. With the way things were going for her flourishing career, she could’ve gone all-out and holed up in some nice ultra-luxury condo elsewhere in LA, preferably somewhere far away from her old lie of a life and the pretty little faces that came back to haunt her every restless night she was all alone and running on twenty cans of Pipeline Punch Juice Monster and writer’s block. But that just wasn’t Lucy’s thing. She was never the type to just up and run away.

Well, except maybe running away from her overbearing parents and their southern passive-aggressive authoritarian neuroses that got her poor older brother kicked to military school before she could get more secret guitar lessons from him, but that’s besides the point. If Lucy wanted to get over something, she would face it without flinching and confront whatever got thrown her way headfirst. If there was anything she learned from her cranky whipsnap of a violin teacher (and nothing more useful than sight reading and permanently disliking classical music, to be frank), it’s that quitters never get the break.

Well, okay—she had also quit the old hag for nearly breaking her fingers off with that damn yardstick anyway despite her father’s disappointed vitriol. But it turned out to be the best decision Lucy had ever made, since now she has broken away from her stifling classical musician past and finally emerged with her big break as the rock scene’s next big rising star. Even though whoever in her idiot desk monkey PR team that had the ‘brilliant’ idea to stamp her brand as a ‘pop princess’ smack dab on the cover of Wailing Note magazine out of all places seriously had another thing coming, because that couldn’t be any further from who she was trying to be. But trying to be the next Siouxsie Sioux with kickin’ song titles like ‘Teenage Anarchy’, ‘Eat My Dog’, and ‘Cut It Off And [redacted due to inappropriate graphic nature]’ don’t sell in this modern climate, so maybe Lucy could at least try to get Avril Lavigne and she wasn’t even tossed that fighting chance.

And now the cycle of Lucy’s woebegone life seemed to have gone from broken-up to breaking out and now right on the verge of breaking down, grappling with strange feelings she wasn’t sure were even hers to feel at all. Even with her pointless selfish reminiscing, Lucy knew this wasn’t just about her, wasn’t just about her messed-up past and her breakneck future making her feel a thousand different shades of weird, but it was here and now. In the present, with a girl she doesn’t know how to feel about. There was something about Jo Taylor.

Or something else Lucy was missing entirely.

There was bound to be some weirdness between them; after all, she and Jo both dated the same boy at some point—even though dated was a pathetically generous way of putting it for Lucy, what with the whole only together for barely ninety seconds deal before those fateful elevator doors opened up to a badly-timed kiss and imminent disaster. After her previous cheater boyfriend fiasco she nearly fell prey to again, the last thing Lucy wanted to do was to get caught up in an unexpected love triangle with all signs pointing to heartbreak highway with an inbound collision, which was certainly enough to break the hardest heads and make anyone’s mangled stomach drop all the way to the pits of hell.

But if her debut album was all about being strong and doing what makes you happy, then so be it. Nevermind that she also would have been totally singing out of her ass for 80% of the tracks (the remaining 20% was for the sick guitar riffs that could shred a whole factory of Dutch gouda into fine powder and disgustingly great sound production courtesy of Galactic Records, of course). Because apparently that positive fakery and callout girlpower sells and sells and sells, so hey, well done her. Make it until you fake it, right?

Anyway, all of that annoying drama was over and done with, Lucy’s had her petty little revenge via a hit Taylor Swift-esque masterpiece that landed her a cosy place on the music charts (which, in hindsight, wasn’t the most elegant of moves, but she was lonely and dejected and filled with enough unwanted spite to boil her body from the inside out, what else was a girl supposed to do other than go all Ophelia? Yeah, Lucy was tragic but she wasn’t buying into that classic brand of fridged-lady bullshit) and earned her a pretty cool future European tour, and now she had her rightful throne back at the Palm Woods along with her old close friends and a really lovely new girl friend.

Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe Lucy and Jo were only pretending to stand each other’s strained necks only to crush their heels down as soon as one let down her guard and looked away. Maybe they were only five seconds away from a slipped bitter laugh and tearing at each other’s throats with painted nails to the beat of flashing paparazzi spotlights and tonight’s E! News headlines. Lucy honestly couldn’t really tell anymore.

Sure, she and Jo were good friends now, but there was still something uncomfortable lingering in the air between them, hair-raising friction and blink-and-you’ll-miss-it dispositions and an unspoken gravity that threatened to crush down Lucy’s tin can brain if she overthinks it for too long. The worst part about it was that Lucy couldn’t figure out what it was exactly—she was completely over Kendall (and any other stupidly complicated boy trouble for the foreseeable rest of her life, if she could friggin’ help it), that much was true...but why did she still feel a dull pang of something almost resembling jealousy whenever the Palm Woods star couple were together?

Lucy has tried to cut off that insidious feeling time and time again, but the indomitable hydra’s head just kept on sprouting back and multiplying twofold, poison veins and blood-red vision, suffocating her a little worse every time.

Cutting her own annoying head off would be a much easier solution.

That Sunday was one of those weird monster-brain days. Lucy and her two best friends had been meticulously planning this girls’ day out for an entire week now as their busy acting and recording schedules never seemed to perfectly align, and that day was the only free time they had to spare. Unfortunately, Camille had to be rushed back for a last-minute audition callback for the next series installment of hit TV show My Nanny is a Werewolf on Kidzie Channel. While both Lucy and Jo eagerly volunteered to entirely nix the hangout and come with her in support instead, the actress cheerily waved their offers off, telling the girls that Logan was already coming with her anyway and she didn’t wanna ruin their plans any more than she already did, despite their assurances of the contrary.

With exchanged wishes of good luck, Camille bade her friends goodbye with a well-practiced weregirl snarl-twirl-snap combo and playful reminders to “have fun and behave yourselves while I’m away!”

Lucy couldn’t even muster up a smartass quip back to promise one or the other. If anything could send her nerves instantly unwinding end to end and back around her throat next to news of her parents coming around for a visit to subtly psychoanalyse her every disobedient move and street mimes (the creepy monochrome bastards), it was having to be alone with Jo.

Shit biscuits, this was so not in the plan!

It was going to be strange for them—potentially disastrous, even—not having Camille around, since she was practically the sole linchpin keeping their friend group together. With the veteran teen actress having been really close to each girl and being a steady presence in the Palm Woods and their lives despite all the ensuing changes and confusion, she was always there to ease out the looming tension and act as an impartial mediator between Lucy and Jo, always ready with a crazy story or a fun activity to rope in the three of them together. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but Lucy’s previous solo hangouts with Jo proved to be a bit dubious after exhausting their seemingly multiple choice chit-chat options about music and work and the-eyebrows-man-who-must-not-be-named, more often ending the conversation in question marks and uneasy silence broken only by a straw scraping against the bottom of the empty smoothie cup.

But Lucy was still determined to make the best out of what might just be a good thing. Maybe even the next best thing for them going forward. This was the perfect chance to figure out what exactly was going on between her and Jo. What’s the worst that could happen, right?

(Everything. Nothing. All of the above plus one and show the equations on scratch paper. The options were limitless and if this was a test of true strength and willpower, Lucy would rather stab herself in the neck with a freshly-sharpened #2 pencil than fail hard and embarrass herself. But she wasn’t gonna be a coward and run away, not this time. Not anymore.)

Their day was a whirlwind blur; a burning rush of exciting Hollywood lights beckoning their giddiest fancies and sweltering air competing against frigid mall air-conditioning, teasing flashes of soaring blonde curls and a steadfast hand clutching Lucy’s own, and creeping close contact everywhere she turned—every moment a suspect call, ocean bruises and rubinette touches turning into downward spirals and a bleeding fleeting desperation that seemed to haunt Lucy around like a phantom as she followed Jo around, while her friend clearly wasn’t feeling the buzzkill spectre shivering and sapping her bones dry of enjoyment.

That was good. That was bad. The answers were still a mess on the page.

For the most part, Lucy figured she did a pretty good job of the whole rigmarole. Despite her brain initially going full neurotic on her, it really wasn’t all as bad as her nightmarish fantasies had twisted it out to be. As a matter of fact, it was Mr. Fox levels of fantastic.

They visited some boutiques and spreed the shops to mix and match some cool new outfits for each other, and shared some delicious food at a quaint seaside burrito and taco stand afterwards. There, Lucy listened intently to Jo’s stories about getting the part of the beautifully wise nymph-child Emily Trace and her time in New Zealand filming for Chauncey Jackson, which the actress still fondly remembered despite the whole breakup deal and the disastrous theatre-burning aftermath that came with it. Lucy managed to crack snarky little jokes and laugh in the right places, also sharing funny and zany tour tales of her own. And, upon Jo’s not-so-brilliant idea once she spotted the two-for-one deal sign as they were heading back, Lucy also begrudgingly got French pedicures with her, which was a whole other level of horrifying for the punk girl.

She swore upon all the unwise deities in the sky that she was never letting anyone near her extremely ticklish appendages again no matter how skilled they were at prettying up her nails, thanks very much.

But that was the worst brunt of it otherwise. In a spur-of-the-moment madness, Lucy even ran with this whole dumb bit of going all gum-chewing tour guide for Jo and showing her around the city, completely playing into it with awed gasping, imaginary camera clicking, and dramatic posing and pointing at every nondescript building facade and rusty fire hydrant. Neither girl cared that every rubbernecking passersby shot them odd looks and disapproving glares, they simply laughed and ran away with arms interlocked beneath the cascading firestorm marigold of the afternoon skylines, cardboard cutouts of towering skyscrapers and palm trees silhouetting the dying sun as the day drew to a more peaceful close.

So yeah, to say it went great was a massive understatement. Lucy enjoyed herself a lot, but not as much as she enjoyed seeing Jo have the time of her life. It felt like their relationship was going to continue its ascending momentum, but...friendship shouldn’t have felt this stilted, this rehearsed, this performative. It shouldn’t have been this hard for Lucy to deal with. Even with her inexplicable thoughts, Lucy really liked Jo. And the sentiment seemed to be reciprocated, counting how many times Lucy made Jo smile and crack up—and in one instance, even choke on her ice cream as the punk girl described Camille and Kendall’s short-lived stint as figure skaters in full painful detail, insane best friend code and Logan’s murderous jealousy and James and Carlos getting glued together and horrible shiny purple costume and bloody Death Spiral and all.

Jo was incredibly easy to talk to, comfortable to be around with, all prettiness and sprightly charm and that adorably wicked smile edging out a smart veneer—it made Lucy’s stomach flutter something strange—maybe from hope, or maybe from indigestion courtesy of those killer all-American beef tacos. Long story longer, Lucy wants to be with Jo.

So what the hell was she doing wrong?

There wasn’t too much time for Lucy to think it over, and she was far too exhausted and simply relieved that she made it out alive. The two girls opted for one last quick corndog snack (well, Lucy did since she was seriously starving after their impromptu street run and Jo wasn’t the biggest fan of the food, but the actress bought some to take home for their hyper helmet-toting friend anyway), before catching the last shuttle to the Palm Woods and finally making it back to their home sweet home.

Make it until you fake it...

“Thanks for the awesome day out, Jo,” Lucy said as they reached the door to Apartment 3F, a place less supply closet chic and much roomier than her old one. She only moved into a second-floor space when she first returned as step one of her terrible ‘get rid of horrible songwriting rut’ plan. And after a whole week of sleepless nights courtesy of the nonstop racket in Apartment 2J, Lucy decided to save what was left of her hanging sanity by requesting a change in rooms, an arrangement that Mr. Reginald Bitters was all too happy to agree to once he saw the growing zeroes in her bank account.

However, this also meant that Jo’s apartment was only a few doors away from hers down at 3I, an uncanny coincidence that Lucy didn’t want to think too much about.

“No need to thank me for anything,” Jo replied modestly. “And thanks as well!”

“I’m super worn-out to the bone and all, but I had lots of fun and I really wanna do this again soon. Hopefully when Cam’s free so we can paint the town a shade of red brighter.”

“Yeah, I think I’d really like that too.” Jo smiled. “And Camille better be there, ‘cause she seriously missed out today and well...I say this with all the love in my heart, but you’re also a really lousy clothes shopping partner.”

Lucy chuckled, airily shrugging in reply. “Hey, no offence taken. If it wasn’t so obvious already, I’m really more of a DIY-kinda person when it comes to choosing my fits. I mean, where’s the fun in picking up Barbie doll cutouts when you could get to run loose with scissors and trick up that haute couture perfection into something awesome and unique?”

“Yeah, I get the whole getting bored with dress-up too.”

“Yeah?”

“Kinda, with all the outfits and costumes they make me wear for my acting roles sometimes...” Jo said. “It’s all gorgeous fun and fabulous fashion shows in the dressing trailer until you’ve spent half your week on the makeup chair after your fiftieth costume change of the day and end up in a molting chicken outfit in hundred-degree LA heat for an eight-hour shoot.”

Lucy whistled low at this. “I’ve had my fair share of getting stuffed into itchy grandma dresses by my mom, but yeah, definitely nothing as bad as that. I think my worst offender was a giant pink chiffon tutu for a church recital and I sulked up a storm the entire time for the performance that my annoyed dad practically had to drag me off the stage by my pointé shoes.”

“Awww, ballerina Lucy-goosey,” Jo gushed. “Now that I would love to see!”

“You’d have to pry it from my cold dead hands first.” Lucy sternly clicked her tongue. “But hey, anytime you feel up for a wardrobe overhaul, call me, beep me, ‘cause I’m your gal. it’s a hell of a time ripping ‘em up, and that’s definitely a thing I gotta show you sometime.”

“Mmm, maybe. Daddy taught me never to run with scissors, though.”

“Oh come onnn, live a little, why don’t you?” Lucy mimed a pair of scissors with both hands and poked and jabbed her flicking fingers into Jo’s midriff, making her cry out in protesting giggles.

“Hey—don’t, buzz off—you’re—such a bad influence—Stone!” She gasped out, skirting away and whacking Lucy with a Kate Spade shopping bag to fend her attacks off.

“As if you really need me to break your halo, angel?” Lucy winked. “I’m afraid it’s far too late to save your grace.”

“And you and me and the devil makes three.”

“Well, only you and me since two of those are the same things.” With a halfhearted evil cackle, Lucy swung the door open with a grand sweeping gesture. “Feel like entering the gates of hell today?”

Jo nodded gratefully as she welcomed the invitation. “I don’t know if I could take another step without collapsing, so wouldn’t mind a little rest,” she said, dropping her bags down on the couch and comfortably settling in with a sigh. “Thanks, Lucy...fer?”

“Oh, you won’t be thanking me soon enough.”

“Why, ‘cause you’re gonna make pretty confetti out of my clothes?”

“Hey now, alright, alright. No more running with scissors so daddy doesn’t take your supper away.” The punk girl held up two hands in surrender and sat down next to Jo. “Maybe just very carefully ambling with helmets and crash pads. That sound like a plan?”

“Just as long as that plan doesn’t include you abandoning me to cause some townie trouble with high school kids and howl at the moon.”

Both girls couldn’t help but giggle at the vivid image of the elegantly gorgeous Camille Roberts transforming into a hairy scary beast by performing her signature snarl-twirl-snap cheerleader move.

“Hey, down with team Jacob,” Lucy joked. “I promise I won’t abandon you, and this is just a little precaution so we don’t accidentally riches to rags those really good florals you picked out for me, ‘cause that’d be a right shame.”

Jo frowned at this, peach-pink lower lip blooming into that dainty little pout the New Town High writers had taken every opportunity to abuse in her infamous character Rachel’s scripts. Lucy couldn’t blame them, though. It was a pretty view-cashing quirk—even she was completely mesmerised. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, Luce,” she said. “If you don’t like it, just say so. I’m a big girl now and I could totally take it. And anyway, we could always exchange it for those fancy aviator jackets you were ogling over. Oh yeah, I totally saw that, even if you didn’t tell me.”

“How dare you accuse me of being a liar—‘cause I’m totally not!” Lucy insisted, adamantly waving the tropical-patterned paper bag containing the incriminating articles of clothing. “You wanna see me wear that frilly frigging halter top everyday? Girl, you got it! I’ll even dye my hair Electric Bananas yellow and wear it for my next music video complete with Daisy Dukes and red cowboy boots to immortalise it forever in my shameful name, if that’s what it takes for me to prove it to you!”

“Wow, so desperate to convince me.” Jo delightedly laughed, a mischievous wind-chime twinkle. “Hold your horses, cowgirl. I’m already impressed by the dedication alone—although I honestly wouldn’t mind seeing you in that kinda outfit...”

Lucy’s throat tightened, suddenly finding herself unable to meet Jo’s cloying coffee gaze and pursed smirk as it wryly raked up and down her pale, gawky, ungraceful form. She was so unlike her beautiful American doll of a best friend, who was like all the pretty pink princesses and gorgeous Day-Glo Pop Tiger girls she either unhealthily obsessed over or resented with a misguided burning passion (or both) in her younger days. And well, apparently now—but would Jo agree to a music video cameo if it meant Lucy also got to see her in skimpy denim and sunbeaten leather of a sizzling hot Arizona desert cowgirl outfit—was Lucy insane enough to even consider writing a song in the godawful twangy music genre she despised with a burning passion just to make it happen...okay, nope, she wasn’t telling that, either.

“Well, you said no need, so no take-backs,” she muttered halfheartedly, both arms folded adamantly to press over her churning stomach—ugh, must be those damn fried franks too, how the hell did Carlos manage to scarf down a hundred sticks of them on the daily and not get a heart attack in the box?

“...Hey, are you okay, Luce?” Jo asked worriedly as she reached out and touched the back of her hand to her friend’s feverish forehead. “You don’t look so hot.”

“Me, not hot?” Lucy waved her concerns off with a lame scoff. “Pffft, that’s impossible!”

“Oh. Now that’s weird...”

“What’s weird?”

“For a moment, I swear I was talking to James Diamond of Big Time Rush and not Hollywood’s hottest pop princess Lucy Stone...”

“Okay, A. Don’t ever call me pop princess unless you wanna get turned into a toad, and B. compare me to that conceited IKEA rug-looking nematode again and I will take you down,” Lucy snapped, but immediately regretted her default mean girl tone when Jo reeled slightly. Oh, right. Not everyone was used to her brand of poison spit. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean that.”

“You didn’t?” Jo countered. “I’m always ready for a challenge.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll save the taking down for James instead, the next time he tries to be a total pest with his stupid aeroplane-based makeout metaphors and toxic man spray fumes.”

“Wow. You really hate him that much, huh. Don’t worry, I won’t tell the boys on you.”

Despite Jo’s jesting tone, Lucy couldn’t help but feel a little bit defensive. “It’s not that I hate him, I just...” She sighed harshly. “I guess if you look past the bloated ego and the over-delusional Adonis complex and the general dramatic derangement, he seems like a decently nice enough person. A really annoying one, mind—but maybe someone I wouldn’t mind being just friends with.”

“Just friends?”

“Capital F-word Friends, period. Mark my words, Taylor, because I am damn well carving them on the gravestone I’ll rest on in my sweetest deathbed, that I shall never have a thing for James frigging Diamond,” Lucy declared, slapping the coffee table after every word to emphasise her point. “Cross my heart and hope to die. Which I will if you ever bring this utter nonsense up again or even mention a single word of it to James. Then I hope he dies.”

Jo sombrely mumbled something Lucy couldn’t quite make out, only catching the tail end of “...to know.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing, just...” Jo shook her head. “Thinking about some stuff. Nothing important, really.”

“Oh? Then spill,” Lucy goaded. “C’mon Jo, you’ve seen me squirm and shriek my lungs off at that stupid foot spa torture chamber, I think that’s enough to warrant a no-more-secrets rule between us.”

“Well, it’s just that, the thing with James. Or the lack of it, rather.”

“What about it?”

“It’s not because of...the whole Kendall thing, is it?”

“What?!” Lucy’s tone rose to shrill indignation.” Why on god’s green earth would it ever be?”

“I don’t know,” Jo hastily backtracked. “I told you it’s nothing important, but I just never really thought of it this way before. Like, seeing how they’re best friends and everything...”

“Dude, come on—”

“Maybe it’d feel weird for you so soon after everything to have to see him around all the time.”

“Josephine, seriously, you’ve got a big brain on you. Don’t waste it on History Channel conspiracy theories and pointless MTV-level drama,” Lucy sternly berated. “But no, it’s because James is irritating and abrasive and keeps popping up everywhere like a bad rash.” She paused, making a disgusted face. “Okay, ew, that was a horrible comparison, but you know what James is like so you get my point. I told you I’m already cool with Kendall, and you and him have nothing else to do with anything that’s my personal business, except for being my good friends and good company. That’s all.”

Lucy wanted to mean it like she said it—but wowza, was that an Oscar-winning performance of a pretty little white lie or what? Either Camille’s extreme method actressing had been rubbing off on her lately, or it was just another one of those dirty tricks she had to learn the hard way after endlessly lying and being lied to in her last relationship. She was certainly good enough to fool hopeless hearts trying to chase her out of the friendzone and vice versa, so what’s one more lie? Laissez-faire life like this, you simply can’t have one without the other, as she found out easily enough.

That was the only easy part about it, unfortunately. I’d like to thank you with a side of choke, Academy.

“Okay. Just checking,” Jo replied after an extremely unnerving beat, dainty lips quivering as she stubbornly bit CW’s favourite thousand-dollar pout back into a serrated thin line. “‘Cause I’d really feel bad if—”

“Well don’t!” Lucy shouted in a crackwhip shock that made her friend flinch hard enough to taste blood. “I said what I freaking said—so seriously, just drop the whole annoying wounded kitty act and shut up about that for a moment already, okay?!”

“...What’s that supposed to mean?”

Oh, great. Just when Lucy thought she was about to pass with flying colours, there came the surprise back page to clock her just as the time ran out. They were due in for a catfight anytime, weren’t they?

“Nothing,” Lucy dismissed, exhaling roughly and slapping a palm on the side of her head to fend off the incoming headache. “Just forget it. Forget about everything.”

“Lucy, I don’t wanna pick a fight.”

“Yeah? Then why don’t you damn well act like it?” Hey woah, ixnay on the attitude, Stone, what the hell are you doing?!

Jo blinked helplessly. Took a step back. She appeared on the verge of something. Maybe falling tears, maybe unsheathing claws. Lucy had certainly shown her hand. Er, paw. Her own fists clenched and unclenched, leaving thin scarlet indentations on her palms with obsidian-black fingernails.

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to upset you,” Jo finally murmured. “I just want you to talk to me, Lucy.”

“What am I, using telepathy or something?”

The punk girl’s snarky response went all but unheeded. “No, I mean like...talk to me, please,” Jo begged, clasping desperately at Lucy’s marred hands. “I just feel like, I don’t know, we’re still holding some things back and the last thing I want between us is this...annoying awkwardness! Maybe it’s just me—maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I feel like there’s this sort of unpleasant tension hiding behind all the normal chatting and the joking, it’s like this weird space that I just can’t understand how to reach out to. It’s like, there’s something more going on here.”

“What are you talking about?” Lucy said evenly, trying to ignore both the sudden electric dithers from her fingertips starting to course through her nerves and the distracting fact that Jo’s skin felt so warm...

“That’s the thing, I can’t even begin to describe it. I don’t think there’s any rational way to! And I swear, I like you a lot, but if we can’t get past that—whatever that is—then...” Jo let go of Lucy and slumped her shoulders heavily, at a total loss. “Maybe there’s no point in trying to be friends anymore.”

Oh, Tony the pissing Tiger grrreat with a side of soggy cornflakes. Not only was Lucy’s worst suspicions confirmed, but it was apparently playing for both teams and everyone was damn well losing. No, really, she would rather take the hair-pulling and name-calling and kicking and screaming—she didn’t do well with pity parades, seeing how easily she could rain on it with her stupid shallow tears. Even worse than the ticklishness, it was seriously Lucy’s greatest, lamest, worst weakness ever.

“Listen to me.” Lucy startled Jo as she staggered forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, trembling touch seconds away from a good sense-knocking shake. “I chose to come back to the Palm Woods. I chose to ignite some trouble with the whole nutty song scandal. I made you believe I was still chasing Kendall just to douse more gasoline in my writer blocked-brain. Did I regret any of it? Yeah, a whole freaking lot, and I’ll never stop being sorry for being so stupidly petty...but I’m not mad anymore. I don’t regret coming back here. And I definitely don’t regret...” Being with you. “Being your friend.”

They were so close Lucy could feel Jo’s rattled breaths shaking past her lungs. Or was it hers?

“Really?”

“Well, duh!” Lucy broke into a genuine smile, which Jo hesitantly mirrored back, and Lucy’s grip relaxed into an awkward pat on the relieved girl’s back. “Hey, the whole thing with me and Mom Pants McGee was a fun little tryst while it lasted, but sweet boys give me a toothache anyway and I’m completely over him now. And I did get a couple amazing hit songs off his storky back, so hey—even stevens.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jo said regretfully. “I’m really sorry for bringing it up in the first place and trying to overcomplicate things again. I mean, you’re so pretty and talented and great to be around with—even if not in the fitting room,” Lucy shot her fond stink-eyes at this gibe, “so...I really don’t wanna lose you.”

“Back at you.” Top ten worst responses to a heartfelt conversation much? But Lucy really couldn’t say it back at the risk of her twitchy eyes going twin geysers, so she squinted and blinked rapidly to get rid of the blurriness threatening to overtake her sight. “But also, you’re still right about some things.”

“Like what?”

“Us, for a start. When I said I didn’t know what you were talking about...I was just too nervous to admit the truth. Because I’ve honestly felt that weird awkwardness too, and I didn’t wanna be the one to ruin things when they seemed to be going great, so I left it alone and hoped it would go away. I tried to make it go away. But maybe that’s also on me for not trusting you enough to really talk to you.”

“Oh thank god,” Jo blurted out. “I mean, not the awkwardness, but I’m really glad I’m not going entirely crazy. Am I bad for saying that?”

“The worst.” Lucy grinned, winking at her. “And you know what? To hell with all that noise! Life’s too short to get cold feet with your cool friend, and it’s too awesome to hang out with you, today alone proved that. I swear, I haven’t had this much fun since...I dunno, my first trip to Kidzieland just after my very first successful violin recital.” She cringed a bit at the inflicting memory. “Well, the recital sucked total butt and a half, what with more frilly dresses and rows of dead-looking old people silently watching a poor six year-old screech her way through Vivaldi Concerto in A Minor, but I just meant the happiest place on Earth part.”

“Ooh, violinist Lucy-goosey, I gotta pry that out of your cold dead hands too! Just kidding. But I really hope you’re not just saying that just to say it.”

“I know I say a lot of things—maybe too many things—but like I said, I never say anything I don’t mean. I can promise you that much, cross my heart and hope to die. Or, um, not die.” There was an irritating song stuck in Lucy’s head going la-la-la-la-liar...

“Sounds good to me,” Jo said, smiling appreciatively. “Sorry for being annoying.”

“You’re not annoying, I’m just being a total queen bitch again. I’m really sorry for yelling at you, Jo. I’m not entirely used to this whole friendship thing yet ‘cause it’s all so new to me—and I guess you’ve just found out why I don’t really have many of them. God, I just need an attitude check every once in a while.” Lucy sighed. “But I really hope we’re still friends...?”

“Of course we are!” Jo said. “Besides, if you’re gonna need an attitude check from time to time, I wouldn’t mind being up for the job.”

“Hired—as long as you’re fine with being my unpaid intern slash total lackey.”

“Oh, I’ll make you pay one way or another.”

“You’ve been threatening me an awful lot today, Miss Taylor.” Lucy arched a daunting brow at Jo. “You really think you can take America’s baddest punk prodigy on?”

“Please. You’d be surprised to see just what I can do to you.”

“I’d love to see you try, princess.”

Lucy smirked and rolled her eyes as Jo lightly punched her shoulder before making a grab for her choker blouse, which she easily twisted out of. Lucy zipped to her feet and made a taunting come-hither motion with one hand while Jo surged toward her again, and she pulled a feign to the right and used it as an opportunity to try to corner Jo. But the blonde girl performed a shockingly quick complex manouevre that completely caught Lucy off-guard, as Jo twisted her by the wrist and swept her outbalanced legs from beneath, easily pushed her back down to the sofa, and ultimately managed to pin her against it, one nimble leg locked over Lucy’s knee and Jo’s forearm pressed deep into her heaving chest to keep her from escaping.

“Told you I’m always ready for a challenge.”

“Touché. Colour me a hot-pink shade of impressed,” Lucy said, not even bothering to squirm her futile way out. “You weren’t the locked-up tower damsel in distress I thought you were.”

“Oh?” Jo cooed slyly. She was clearly savouring every minute of it (not that Lucy couldn’t say the same—but never admit defeat to your enemy and all that jazz). “Did Kendall never mention that my dad’s a trained Marine and CIA employee, and that daddy’s little girl went through intense judo training from age five to get her supper?”

“Your dashing Knight in flannel armour never mentioned a lot of things about you.” Lucy’s lips curled in between shallow breaths. “I wonder why.”

“I guess that means you’re not the only one keeping secrets, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“So you and me, what’s our deal now? I thought you said no more secrets?”

“Well, maybe leave some between the devil and me.” Lucy’s brash conviction fell flat, lost to the stunning sight in front of her spinning her into mental vertigo. Jo’s perfectly-coiffed ringlets were now a tangled mess over her forehead as it freely waterfalled over Lucy’s hot-pink face, and her breaths—damn it, I should really stop staring at those bewitched lips—were so heavy on Lucy’s neck that she found herself shivering and ticklish all over. Stupid oversensitive skin. She deliriously wondered if Jo’s barred arm was also bruising from how hard her heartbeats were walloping out of her ribcage. “So...what else can you do to me, Rapunzel?”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” With a promising glee, Jo finally released her captor and stood up, smoothing back her hair and stretching her body as if their tussle never happened. “But hey, I’m tired and you’re tired and we’re all fried in the brains, so that’s a girl fight for another day, don’t you think?”

“I’ll make sure to chalk up that appointment.” Lucy accepted Jo’s helping hand and handed the other girl’s shopping bags in turn. With this, they instinctively linked arms as they walked to the front door.

“So, same time next week?” Jo asked expectantly.

“Are you talking about the hanging out or the fighting?” Lucy replied.

“Hmm...maybe a little bit of both. For funsies.”

“Hey, dinner and a movie first, missy!” Lucy exclaimed all huffy, making Jo laugh and whap her with a bag again. “But seriously though, whatever it is, I’m looking forward to it, as long as it’s with you.”

Jo searchingly peered at her. “Really?”

“Totally! I know I don’t have many people around here I could talk to apart from the Big Time Gonzos and you and Camille, and there’s never a dull moment, to say the least, but...I just really like being with you the most, Jo,” Lucy confessed. She hated herself worse the more she talked, but the dam had burst and she was unable to keep herself from blabbing on. “Now that we’ve got our issues out of the way, I think I could just talk to you, like really talk to you, no supermutant telepathy needed. Somehow, it makes me hope that I’ll never have to feel like I gotta be someone else other than myself now. So...I don’t know. This sounds super weird and stupid to say, but I kinda feel like...you could be my best friend. Or maybe even more than that...?”

Woah, nelly. Can we get some lip stitcher for the TMI snitcher here??? It must’ve been Lucy’s mind getting scrambled and smeared like avocado toast under the humid evening heat. Or from too much sugar-shocked Mint Brownie Blizzard DQ’s, because why the hell was she suddenly getting all soft and sappy now? Yeah, she was more than used to speaking her mind, but it was usually sharp edges and bad decisions like Jo just unfortunately witnessed, but not this...this goopy tempur-pedic heart mess!

“I dunno, it’s whatever, but you’re cool and stuff, and it’s really nice to wind down from work without getting caught up in insane tree hat schemes or Camille’s crazy acting gigs and have some vanilla peace and quiet sometimes with someone, so like. It’s whatever! Ugh, sorry. Lame. Not you—I just, me—I’m...so lame. Yeah. Um. Thanks. Bye.”

A deafening beat of silence, Jo softening into what could’ve been a second of sympathetic uncertainty, or a thousand years of embarrassed concern. Lucy scuffed her ancient Demonia boots against the dusty carpet, wordlessly counted the dirty palm prints in dire need of a good vacuuming and an entire pricey overhaul that their cheapskate manager would never pay for, and tugged absently at her handmade Lockpicks button, picking and pressing at the black and red marker-scribbled logo until she felt the open pin pierce past her jacket and dig into her numb hammering chest. She wanted to slam the door in Jo’s face to saver her own. Or slam her dysfunctional head between the doorway just to get everything over with.

Yeah, great save there, Stone. Only made you sound like a backed-up motorcycle that won’t start. Peanut butter smooth enough to choke a three year-old. That storm’s one for the playbooks, Lzzy Fail with a capital L for Loserville—

“I don’t know what else to say except for...thank you so much, Lucy.” At last, Jo’s reply mercifully cuts into the musician’s tirade of self-resentment, her sincere voice wavering into delicate brushstrokes and painting Lucy’s face with cosmic bloom. “For this day out. For your honesty. And for everything else.”

Lucy expected a judo slap in the face more than she did gratitude. She would’ve taken it like a champ too, if it’d help her come back to her senses. What? Huh? “Whuh?”

Aaand there’s the slap from her stupid dysfunctional brain to save the friggin’ day. Girl, snap your mouth shut and get yourself together before you have a full-blown aneurysm in front of Jo, come on.

“I’m just really glad to hear that from you, is all,” Jo continued. “‘Cause here I thought it’d never stop being weird after everything that happened between us and even now, I still wasn’t even sure if you really liked me or we’re just doing this to try to be polite with each other...”

“Ohoho believe me, I’m constantly five seconds away from slipping cyanide in your blue smoothies.”

Jo chuckled at Lucy’s amused threat. “Well, thank you for not doing that, and for being an amazing friend. I’m glad that you feel safe enough to be comfortable with me now. All the things you said, I just, I feel the same way about you, I really do. I know I’m not the best with my words right now,” At least you’ve got some words in, unlike miss guppy gaper over here—“But you...um, this just really means a lot to me.”

Lucy’s breath hitched as Jo smiled gently and reached out towards her—too high to be her arm, too low to be anywhere else. Was it a handshake? A hug? A well-deserved slap? Another surprise scuffle?

Even with everything at a standstill, there wasn’t enough time left in the world to find out.

The sound of a chirpy lo-fi ringtone cut through the air, jolting Lucy into a sharp exhale and a spat profanity. Jo halted dead in her tracks to fish out her phone from her shorts pocket and check the incoming notification, her earnest countenance immediately whittling down a weary resignation.

“It’s Kendall,” Jo announced as she idly scrolled through the accursed message. “He’s asking why I didn’t reply to his text twenty minutes ago and what time I’ll be back—and if I got him the latest Hockey Action magazine with that one...sports dude on the cover from the newsstand. I think he had like, brown hair and a weird name but that’s literally all I remember...like he really expects me to tell any of them apart?” She groaned. “They all just look like blurry uniformed guys to me!”

“Oh.”

The actress tiredly laid her glowing phone screen against her scrunched forehead, starkly illuminating the stressed lines creasing her face. “I’m sorry about that, I just...I love Kendall, I really do, but he’s been really testing my patience more and more these days. It seems like all we ever do is bicker and fight about dumb things that shouldn’t matter too much, and then we make up and kiss, and then repeat the whole crazy cycle and I’m used to it by now, but...maybe I shouldn’t be?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Wow, where’d all that big talk disappear off to, big girl? You sound like a stuck soundboard, chrissakes.

“Y’know, sometimes I think I’d be better off if I didn’t get back together with him at all and we just—” Jo sighed abruptly, repocketing her phone. “Nevermind. Sorry. Don’t wanna ruin our perfect day any more than I already have with some extra boring boy friend drama.”

“Okay.” There it was again, that ferocious hydra, writhing and biting and threatening to burst from under Lucy’s taut skin, screaming ‘was that a pause in between boy and friend or did she just run out of breath???’. Apparently metaphorical mythical monsters (ten points for the alliteration skills there, Maya Angelou) can also be total tinfoil hat nutters, grrreat.

“Yeah,” Lucy scoffed a little louder, blithely crossing her arms. “Better not. Anyway, I got a warm shower soak and a Capri Blue Volcano bath bomb in here with my name on it, and you better check in on Kendork before he blows a blond gasket and rips up half the state of California just trying to look for you, so. Don’t want the poor kid thinking I’m stealing his best girl away from him, huh?” Girl, what kinda weirdass joke was that?! God, just shutupshutupshutup—

“Well, right now you have a better fighting chance than him.”

Okay, either someone suddenly decided to throw a huge (highly illegal) party in the next apartment room out of nowhere, or the popping confetti and champagne and victorious rave music and flashing strobe lights were all in Lucy’s head. Lucy’s very confused, very impossible, decidedly insane head.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to hang around?” Jo asked. “A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt, and I wouldn’t mind it at all. Kendall would probably only lay waste and ruin to Sacramento and Anaheim by that time. And if you want, I could also make you a mean grilled chicken salad.” She tilted her head and coyly lifted her shoulders. “I mean not to brag, but. Gotta keep myself busy in the tower somehow.”

Yes, please stay, please don’t, I don’t know what I want with you except for it’s a lot even if you probably want nothing to do with me, maybe you should stay with me so we could figure this mess out together or maybe we don’t just as long as we’re together and you won’t have to fight anyone for a kiss, please fucking stay or I’ll miss you around—

“Nah, I’m gonna miss those cheesy ghost tours and gastropubs if he does that, but cheers for the offer anyway.” Lucy replied with a wink—oh gross, she did that a lot, why the hell does she do that a lot? She seriously needed to call an ophthalmologist’s office sometime to get checked for uncontrollable eye spasms. Or maybe it was the home of the future’s ancient dirty furnishings giving her an allergy reaction something awful and she could sue the pants off Bitters instead. “Now beat it.”

“Awww, but we were having such a moment!”

“Well you already let your hair down, so not anymore, princess.”

Maybe it was Lucy’s imagination being a little demon again, but there seemed to be a crestfallen hint to Jo’s smile at her brisk refusal. So Lucy decided to reach out past the weird space and surprised her friend (though considerably a lot less than she surprised herself) with a gentle embrace; cold sweat palms comfortably flush against Jo’s shoulder blades to slow their descent down even for just a moment longer, silent butterfly whispers fluttering under her wispy breath to never let go.

Jo unsurely squared up a bit before easing into the gesture and matching it, and that’s when Lucy let go and playfully elbowed her away, not bothering to draw away the curtain of red-streaked hair that had fallen over her face. Had it always been a thousand degrees here, or was Buddha Bob messing around with the perpetually-broken thermostat again? It really was a wonder of the world why she chose to move back to this busted joint. But maybe it was worth it because of something else. Someone else.

Surely the princess isn’t in another castle now.

“Now take my affection and scram before I choke you with it, Josephine,” Lucy warned breathily, shaking a curmudgeonly fist at Jo.

“Oh, really? And how are you gonna do that, exactly?” Jo grinned back, a challenging tryst as she shrugged her slipping cardigan sleeve back onto her chambray shirt, all frisky static and fleecy denim, the kind Lucy hated she loved. “Because if we’re gonna have a proper dinner and a movie date soon, then you better be ready to show me sometime.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No need to beg at all. Love you too, Lucille.”

Jo simply winked back, one tender hand to touched to Lucy’s chin as the actress leaned in to kiss her on the cheek—a shy flitting gesture that devolved into vicious hummingbirds tearing apart Lucy’s chest heartbeat by paralysed heartbeat—before Jo gathered her tote bag and newly-purchased belongings, casually waved to her friend one last time, and walked away.

Lucy’s hand let go of the remaining shopping bags—taking no heed of the sound of shattering glass—as it instinctively curled towards her crimson-clashed face, the scent of familiar Velvet Rose and shared mint brownie and vanilla lipgloss dizzyingly overwhelming, trembling electric fingertips tracing what was perfectly spelled out in front of her all along but she was just too stupidly blind to see.

Shocking white blinding Lucy’s vision like intrusive camera flashes worse than hectic press releases, bitterness breaking apart upon remembering the way her heart just about crashed to her freshly-pampered toes when Jo happily embraced her by the shoulders, the phantom sensation of their sweaty bodies pressed delicately and melted together in that cramped Sears photo booth, Jo holding up a peace sign that bumped against Lucy’s devil horns as the blonde stuck her bubblegum-purple tongue out so ridiculously that Lucy hadn’t smiled that hard it hurt since forever, hadn’t felt her stomach cramp up with the kind of unfettered laughter that rang in her ears too loud and untwisted her heated guts and made her feel a little more sane despite all the haunting madness—leaving only a blurry collage of pretty memories to be stuck on fridge doors or placed under pillows for sweeter dreams.

There wasn’t just something about Jo Taylor, apparently—it was everything about her.

Click, click, click, love-laced gears in Lucy’s annoying head gnashing towards a mortified understanding, senseless steam clouding her brain and choking up her restricting throat as the excruciating realisation scribbled warning-red question marks everywhere and derailed their exquisite friendship straight into a messy, confusing, dramatic trainwreck.

Most likely it was nothing. Just a friendly gesture. Just an offhand faux flirt for an offhand faux-flirter. But then again...maybe it meant everything. Maybe Jo meant it. Maybe Jo really felt the same way about her. Maybe the whole date schtick was beginning to dance the line past an overplayed joke into a serious invitation (would his ex-not-boyfriend be pissed if they ended up dating the same girl?). Maybe Lucy just had to turn her head the right way and take Jo down like her impulse-rabid brain hydras were screaming at her to even if that meant stirring up a paparazzi frenzy of the century, alt-scene’s baddie ‘pop-princess’ gone worse with the sweetheart new town queen, to stir their sucked blood in the shark-infested waters and devastate their contract-clean reputations—who ever heard of such a thing?—who the hell could tell anymore?—and who the hell cared about all this MTV-level drama, anyway?

She was too smartmouthed for her own good, all that shammed bravado and sweetsour chit-chat, too cool for class and calculated down to the point just to push people away, too full of shit...she was Lucy Stone, for crying out loud—and that meant nothing at all when she was trying fight against, with, for a girl she’s already lost to, once, twice, a million times over.

Why couldn’t she just shut up and shut it down like she always did this time around?

Lucy couldn’t run away anymore, so the only thing left to do was to write a hundred songs about being weak and making herself miserable and throw it all in the fireplace, because she already sold her soul to the devil. Fake it until you unmake it...and hope it would also unmake all the aching weirdness, the weird overthoughts, the weird way Jo left her hanging on and falling away to snap her neck on the rope she was barely holding onto...this was nothing like the best cheek kisses Lucy had ever served to all the nevermore nobodies she’d vaguely crushed on before, and yet Jo felt like all of those at once.

And more—the kind of more that she wanted, the way she wanted Jo, would Jo want her like they’re meant to be together, would Jo even want her...friendship shouldn’t feel this desperate, this complicatedly messy, this fucking painful. Lucy really wants to be with Jo. She wants Jo. She wants...

Oh, shit biscuits.

a/n: idk if anyone will ever make it this far lmao, but if you see this, thanks for reading!! (⑉⺥˶˶̫˶⺥⑉)💗

#yes i finally have a fic for my beloved girlfriends otp that i've been going on about since forever!!! 💗💙 it's a lucy-centric one too!!! #idk if i'll continue this but hopefully i'll have even more jocy fics in the future that doesn't take me seven literal months to finish!!! #who knows i might even work on my camille/chaotic lesbian oc drabble fic next ;) ker if you're reading this tag.......hi <3 *evil laugh* #btr #big time rush #jo taylor #lucy stone #fanfic #fanfiction #jocy #write a song about that #one shot #fluff #girls in love #pining #friendship #slice of life #romantic tension #femslash #hurt/comfort #jo taylor x lucy stone #the line that starts the whole story #bleep blap bloop! #writeblr #nickelodeon #rusher #stop it forever #writers on tumblr #writing

[baileye]

Built in 1971, the Foxhall is a masterpiece of Brutalism, the architectural movement that tried to erect a better society from the rubble of World War II. The name is misleading: A style associated with collectivism, Brutalism is all about creating community through architecture. Its practitioners sought to satisfy our desire for belonging without playing to our penchant for cruelty. They wanted to use an inexpensive material — concrete, the material from which the movement gets its name — to create large, utilitarian buildings, often for communal living. Frequently maligned, Brutalism remains my ideal arrangement not only for housing but also for living. Standing before another Brutalist structure, the sublime Albany, N.Y., performance space known as the Egg — a windowless oval poised on a knife’s edge between motion and stillness atop its pedestal — I see the aspirations of a society more hopeful and audacious than our own.

My love of Brutalism began on the fourth floor of a Leningrad apartment building. It looked like an upright matchbox; identical matchboxes stretched in every direction, gray shapes dotting the gray landscape. My family’s building was cramped and dilapidated. It was also full of life, a beehive always buzzing. We played hockey in the courtyard without worrying about cars. Nobody warned me about “stranger danger.” Sure, there were the local drunks, the teenage hooligans who tortured stray cats, but even these wayward bees had a place in the hive.

Though our building was not, in academic terms, Brutalist, it instilled values that I would later recognize as Brutalist in essence. The meaning of those youthful experiences (their sharp edges smoothed by nostalgia) did not cohere until after my family moved to the United States in 1989, landing in the suburbs north of New York. It was a weird time to become American. These were the years of “superpredators,” when a racist panic was burrowing ever deeper into the anxious white imagination. Americans turned inward, from the front porch to the back patio, to private pleasures and secret fears. The empty streets, the barren lawns: Talk about brutal.

[hooligansconglomerate]

hey hey hey. it’s that time of year again and, for once, i’m super prepared for this. i do this thing every year where i seem to get a new job or more responsibility and i just slide out of writing. so my big goal for this year is consistency. i’m just trying to post at least twice a week for each of my babies. and i’m also going to be working on reaching out to more people for plots. don’t be alarmed if i reach out to update our connections. i’m going to fill out the pretty connection code for each of my characters and basically treat that like a shipper.

for the children:

marceline’s got a couple things to get moving. someone reminded me that she’s kind of a celebrity chef. so she’ll definitely be adjusting to/accepting that. she’s been thinking about pulling in a small staff and she’ll be on the lookout for an assistant! and, if we still have kae and elle’s blessing, she’ll put her hat in the ring for a chef job at the royals facility (because ash was right and she needs alllll the hockey players in her life) 😂😂

lamont’s still getting acclimated so i’ll be working on getting him so more friends and people to interact with. might love to have some coworkers to pull out the more serious side of him. might toss him back into the dating pool as well. blind dates, yall. this is going to be such a good time.

brielle just might be headed back to school. since she’s a full time teacher, it’ll probably be an online thing. she’ll grapple with getting more training and unknowingly heading down the exact path her mother wants for her. but it’ll be okay because my girl has the best support system in the history of the hooligans. and love. love is possibly on the horizon 🥰

divya is here. like brand spanking new so she’s really just finding her footing here. don’t be surprised if i pop in and am like “hi would you like a new friend?” because i will 🥺 i want her to have balance and not end up being a burned out nurse. and i just want y’all to love on her.

k byeeeeee. til next year 😘

#wtnrp #wtn fortnight

[miralcompass]

Huntdown arcade

Huntdown arcade pro#

Huntdown arcade free#

It’s possible to use the Joy-Cons on the console and still be able to complete Easy difficulty.

Huntdown arcade pro#

While I recommend playing with a Pro controller on the Switch, it was nice to be able to play Huntdown in different places. Playing on the Nintendo Switch, I was able to enjoy the game in bed at night, outside on the back porch, and docked on my entertainment console in the office. It’s an entertaining side-scroller that has such love for its source material. You don’t have to have grown up in the ‘80s to appreciate what Huntdown has to offer. It mixes the possible with the improbable and the totally ludicrous. You’ll fight them with melee weapons, pistols, assault rifles, projectiles, and so many other weapons. 1 Suspects: Martial art fighters with the discipline to match their deadly skills The Heatseekers: Motorcycle gangbangers with speed and big guns Misconducts: Hockey-padded brawlers who skate and shoot and blow things up Hoodlum Dolls: Punks who run the streets and terrorize the cops Here are the gangs that you’ll face in Huntdown: The cityscapes are flooded with gangs and memorable bosses, and each sector is under the control of one group with several smaller bosses before the final big bad that runs the show. It’s an accurate recreation of the manic gunfights and relentless enemies that featured in arcade cabinets more than three decades ago. Stab, shoot and explode your way through swathes of gangs and bosses and collect your bounty.There are two ways to enjoy Huntdown: single player or local cooperative play.Īnd twenty levels offer players a lot of ground to cover in a game that demands focus and fast reflexes. Martial arts experts, these slick psychopaths control the night through their casinos and nightclubsĬHOOSE YOUR WEAPONConfiscate machine guns, laser weapons, katanas, grenades and more, and turn them on their owners.

NO.1 Suspects: Masters of discipline and organised crime.

These rockabilly villains style themselves on the centurions of Ancient Rome

The Heatseekers: Murderous motorcycle club.

Misconducts: Organised hockey hooligans, experts in robbery and extortion with a penchant for explosives.

Hoodlum Dolls: Violent feral punks winning the gang war with the toothless authorities.

OLD SCHOOL MODERNIZEDHand painted 16-bit pixel art graphics and hand-drawn animations combined with fluid 60-FPS gameplay and an epic synthesized soundtrack.Ģ0 LEVELSGritty, neon soaked, graffiti strewn 80s cityscapes to clear, each with their own infamous gang boss to terminate and bounty to collect. Don’t expect to be taken alive if Mow Man’s on your six.

Mow Man: Modified recon droid, stolen and empowered with banned software.

This scarred veteran has lost so many limbs in combat he’s practically half robot.

John Sawyer: Once a Special Forces cop who left the law behind.

Anna Conda: Ex-commando, firearms expert, and full-time loose-cannon, Anna will assassinate without question or mercy, as long as you don’t mind the collateral damage.

In this nail-biting race against the clock, collect as many bounties as you can while you watch the numbers roll and strive to be the apex bounty hunter. Innovate and invent new ways to pulverize your foes to rack up your score, whether you make use of combo-kills, quickdraw weapon-swap bonuses, or just hurl criminals off the rooftops. NEW ACTION-PACKED ARCADE MODEIt’s you versus the world as you’re pitted against players from all corners of the globe in a brutal battle to pummel your way up the leaderboards. Whether your buddy is in the same room or on the other side of the planet, wreak havoc as a team through couch co-op or Steam Remote Play. KICK-ASS CO-OP, FROM NEAR AND FARHunt solo or give suppressive fire and advance on the enemy together as you run, jump, and take cover in the mayhem-filled streets of the future. Lay waste to the criminal underworld and make a killing in this hard boiled action comedy arcade shooter.

Huntdown arcade free#

In the mayhem-filled streets of the future where criminal gangs rule and cops fear to tread, only the bounty hunters can free the city from the corrupt fist of felony.

#Huntdown arcade

[greysbuild]

Huntdown mobile

The demo we were given prominently featured The Misconducts, a bunch of hooligans resembling a criminal hockey team, down to certain enemies lobbing grenades at you with their sticks. Seemingly taking a cue from the likes of The Warriors, each one has their own insane theme and personality, from Quincy punks to biker gangs. is its colorful, over-the-top style, especially when in comes to the various gangs you take on. It is indeed some old-school fun, the kind that remains highly enjoyable no matter the era.īut what does help Huntdown grab your attention, as seen in the above trailer. And the variety of guns offered is indeed a sweet selection to choose from that has each one deliver a satisfying impact, especially the cathartic feeling provided by the M60, limited as its ammo is. True, the gameplay is largely your standard side-scrolling arcade-style action game setup, where you head forward and blow away any enemy in your path, collecting health and new weapons along the way. How is it that we’ve had several indie games inspired by dystopian ’80s flicks, and several that were tributes to classing run-and-gun action, yet never though to combine the two? It seems so obvious! So yes, Huntdown is basically filling a necessary niche that we didn’t know we were aware of until now. I mean, that pretty much nails it right there. Oh hey, look! A side-scrolling action game inspired by old-school titles of the 16-bit and late ’80s eras of gaming with highly detailed pixel art! We clearly haven’t seen one of those in a while! In all seriousness, though, it may not initially appear like there’s anything unique about Huntdown on the surface that sets it apart from several similar titles, and having gotten a hands-on experience with it, I can say that it’s a fun game, but what would possibly be its unique selling point? Well, it wasn’t until a few days later that I saw a tweet from someone else who had played the game, pretty much summing it up perfectly: “Contra by way of Escape From NY.

#Huntdown mobile

[squilliam128]

30 Day Writing Challenge Day 3 - A memory

Another weekend, another night showing up at Nathan’s house at 9 P.M. Suspicious? Maybe if you were his mom, who wasn’t home. Instead, I was in for another one of our infamous boys’ nights – just me and Nathan and Ryan watching hockey with Nathan’s dad and brother.

At least that’s how the night started. Soon after the Edmonton Oilers iced the game, his dad called it a night, leaving us hooligans to begin our night of debauchery, skullduggery, and total tomfoolery. See, this wasn’t an ordinary Saturday night; it was May 14th, which meant that we were two weeks away from graduating.

We were determined to have a last hurrah. The drinks began flowing, and it wasn’t long before shots were being thrown back with reckless abandon. There was something special in the air that night. Maybe it was stale from B.O., or maybe we were just too drunk.

Like any other drunken night with friends, the karaoke soon started, our warm bellies and flushed cheeks overriding any of our usual inhibitions, and as we were belting out the lyrics to the songs that made our homecomings and proms for the last four years, I was finally able to identify what was in the air (no, it wasn’t B.O.). It was a tinge of melancholy because while we were having fun, we couldn’t help but feel bittersweet, no matter how much we tried to ignore it.

Underneath our drunken stupors, each one of us was realizing that this was the end. There were only so many Saturday nights at Nathan’s left. Soon, everything we knew would be changing as we all prepared to go to our respective and different colleges, and while we all recognized this as the beginning of the end, we accepted this reality and gave in to the night for one last time with each other.

#i promise #im cool #i know #this #sounds lame