𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 .

aidan walsh & julian devereux

[hcngover]

𝒉𝒄𝒏𝒈𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 , a private & dependent rp blog                        for campusloser                        penned by lisa  , 21+  ,  gmt+2  ,  she/her 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒔 , ○ aidan walsh , 24 , new directions & tennis team & debate society ○ georgia marsh , 22 , cheerios & dance team & school paper ○ julian devereux , 24 , new directions, drama club, film society, musical theatre troupe ○ sawyer rhee, 26 , ice hockey titans

[hcngover]

sawyer catches his younger half-sister clementine after practice, leaning against the wall with an uncharacteristically concerned look on his face. "alright, what is going on with the cheerios?" he asks, lowering his voice just in case. the last thing he wants is to piss even more of them off. "why is the squad suddenly plotting the titans' downfall? is it really all because of cortez and his singing club?" admittedly, he finds it pretty annoying himself. not enough to plot carter's downfall over it, but that might change if he keeps catching strays. "seriously, clem, can you tell them to chill? or at least redirect the slushie attacks toward carter only?" he asks, before gesturing at himself. "my facecard does not deserve to be ruined by red or blue dye." @xoxoclementines

[hcngover]

sawyer slows as lovey stomps past, looking ready to swing. "whoa, easy there," he holds up both hands in surrender. "wrong titan, babe. i'm not one of the guys singing, dancing, or whatever fucking showtune mashup side quest the gleeks are on right now. you can save all that attitude for cortez, shep, and sydlo," he points out, before jerking a thumb toward himself. "me? i'm just ridiculously hot and ridiculously good at hockey. that's literally my only offense." he shrugs, completely unfazed. "i show up, kick ass on the ice and go home. i mind my own fucking business, so just take it up with the choir boys. they're the ones making enemies every other week." @loveyssun

[hcngover]

georgia glances around to make sure they were alone before lowering her voice. "i know you were being a contrarian in the group chat the other day because, frankly, you get off on arguing with me," she states, flatly. "but please tell me you've noticed we've got a problem, cece." georgia folds her arms, a look of genuine concern on her features. "these girls have gotten way too passive and comfortable. they really think hitting their stunts is enough." she shakes her head disapprovingly. "It's not perfect athletics that made us the top squad at saint rivera. it is our attitude, making people think twice before crossing us. did we all just collectively forget about that because it's... inconvenient?" @lyricaels

[hcngover]

"goldie, i know you probably think i was being mean to the girls the other day in the groupchat, but i'm genuinely just trying to help you all." truth be told, the others mistaking tough love for a targeted personal attack still has her feeling confused. surely, coach steele must have been telling them the same thing these past few months, in far less delicate terms? "i spoke to coach today... briefly, she's very busy, of course. it seems i was right about everything, golds. coach is very disappointed in the lack of initiative on the team. we really do have to do something big to knock her socks off and prove that we're worthy of our uniforms." @scgclden

[hcngover]

"so, it's going down next week. officially," georgia announces, grinning widely upon reading the latest message on her phone to her new friend, abilene. even though it normally took a while for georgia to warm up to new people, let alone start to respect them, the two girls had bonded remarkably quickly over their shared frustration with the other cheerios, and their lack of taking initative to put fear in the hearts of their fellow students. "and the best part is, that the gleeks and the titans will be taking the hit, while our hands and uniforms stay perfectly pristine. coach steele will be so pleased, abi." @sm0kesh0ws

[hcngover]

"val, i'm starting to think i was a little premature writing carter off," georgia admits, filling two glasses with the cheerios' signature vitamin drink. "he's actually… trainable. which is a pleasant surprise, considering he's a titan, and all," she continues, sliding one of the glasses across the counter. "i'm thinking about giving him another shot, like, go on one more date with him. i mean, best case scenario, i end up dating the captain of the hockey team and my social status goes right back to where it was before family leave. it's efficient, if nothing else." @stupidiots

[riverdalecentral]

“The movies were a form of escapism for me. I could live my life through someone else’s shoes on the big screen and that was special. You go into a room and no one’s looking at you and it’s completely dark and the screen’s massive and you get lost in people’s stories. There’s something comforting and refreshing about that, watching someone else’s life and finding parts of yourself that you connect with. It’s magical to be able to be a part of that, to be on the other side of it while still getting lost in movies.” — Charles Melton for The Last Magazine, 2019, photographed by Clément Pascal.

[hcngover]

tag dump #4

#‛   ✩      ˒    𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 .     ›     sawyer sharpe . #‛   ✩      ˒    𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 .     ›     sawyer sharpe . #‛   ✩      ˒    𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 .     ›     sawyer sharpe . #‛   ✩      ˒    𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 .     ›     sawyer sharpe .

[oflos3rs]

   for a moment, against every better instinct he possessed, gabe almost listened. there was something annoyingly persuasive about the way aidan spoke about the squid costume. not because gabe thought the costume had been some great act of courage, exactly, but because he remembered that night with the strange, hazy clarity reserved for moments in which he'd done something so thoroughly unlike himself that afterward he could only wonder who had possessed him. he'd gone to a party. a party full of strangers. wearing a full squid costume. and somehow, impossibly, he hadn't hated every second of it. his mouth pulled faintly to one side as he considered this, gaze dropping somewhere between them. "i mean..." he began, reluctantly. "i guess that was different." because the costume had given him somewhere to hide. that was the trick of it. nobody had really been looking at gabe. they had been looking at the squid. the ridiculous, oversized, vaguely pathetic creature he'd allowed himself to become for an evening. it had been armor disguised as a joke.

   the corner of his mouth threatened another smile at the thought of it. it made gabe's shoulders loosen by a fraction. maybe there was a chance ⸻ then the word came. blackmail. the warmth vanished so quickly it was almost embarrassing. gabe went very still. it was subtle at first. just a slight tightening around his eyes, the faintest withdrawal in his posture, like something inside him had taken one careful step backward. the invitation suddenly seemed much less like an invitation and much more like an object with weight. blackmail. his fingers curled loosely at his sides. he'd thought aidan was nice. or, at least, nice to him. nice in the particular way that mattered to gabe: he'd remembered him. he'd sought him out in a hallway rather than simply passing him by. all of those little things had accumulated somewhere in gabe's mind without his permission, quietly becoming evidence that perhaps aidan genuinely liked him. and now there was a threat tucked neatly inside a joke. gabe swallowed. "why would you do that?" the question slipped out before he could stop it, softer than the rest of his protests had been. 

   his eyes stayed on aidan's face for a moment, searching it for some indication that he'd misunderstood. that this was still a joke. that there wasn't really something sharp underneath all that easy laughter. then he seemed to realize what he'd actually asked. his brow furrowed. "what would you even say?" he gave a nervous little laugh, but there wasn't much humor in it. his gaze dropped again, suddenly fascinated by the floor. "i mean, i don't ⸻" he started, then stopped himself, fingers flexing uselessly at his sides. "i haven't done anything." that seemed to be the part that bothered him most. not the threat itself. the idea that aidan might have something on him when gabe couldn't imagine what it could possibly be. his eyes lifted again. "i thought you ⸻" liked talking to me. there it was. gabe immediately seemed to regret starting to say anything. his lips pressed together, and he looked away again, retreating into himself by inches. "why do you want me to audition so badly?"

[hcngover]

aidan's grin falters at gabe's last question. not in a dramatic way, probably not even in a way most people would notice, but admittedly, the question hits him harder than expected. for a moment, he just looks at the other. blackmailing carter cortez? too easy, given the fact that he's kind of a douchebag. fontaine? even easier, considering that motherfucker broke his tv and tried to negotiate that aidan would be the one paying him. but the squid guy? "right... you haven't done fucking anything." aidan lets out a quiet sigh, before offering him the invitation again. this time without pulling it away. "so no, i'm not going to blackmail you. i'd honestly don't even know what the fuck i'd even blackmail you with." if push came to shove, he could probably make something up, but aidan finds himself not really wanting to. a random act of mercy from the devil incarnate? hopefully. he would rather not be accussed of developing a soft spot for this campus loser.

"you can just come to my party... on a different condition: i just really, really need you to hear me out right now," he leans casually against the wall. the honest approach? aidan did not see that one coming either. "so, the new directions are kind of in a shitty position. last year we lost sectionals, and trust me, this campus has made damn sure we haven't forgotten," aidan laughs dryly, though there's very little humor in it. "we've spent the better part of a year getting clowned for it. my friends..." he shakes his head. "they've worked their asses off trying to build this club back up. extra rehearsals, recruiting, fundraisers, all because they want one chance to prove last year wasn't who we are, and now we're running into something incredibly stupid. we might not even have enough members to qualify. so after all that work... there's a real chance we don't even get the opportunity to try again."

he looks at gabe, his expression oddly serious and sincere. as much as he tries to pass it off as this meaning the world to his friends, as if he's only doing it for them, he is admittedly just as frustrated about the fact that they might not even get a chance to redeem themselves. "again, i'm not asking you to become the next superstar. hell, I'm not even asking you to like show choir. i'm just asking you to audition. if you get in, you can stand in the back, sway a little, sing if you feel like it, or just hide behind julian's massive ego for the next two weeks. if, after sectionals, you decide this has been the worst decision you've ever made, you can simply drop out. i'd just... i'd hate for my friends to lose out on everything without even getting the chance to fight for it."

[scgclden]

"and not be in your debt." he offered. sure, tyler didn't need to be so honest but, why not? what the fuck was gonna happen? he piss off aidan and then the guy kicked him to the curb? couldn't be any worse then having your drom room burn down. it was uncomfortable to just stand in the hallway of this penthouse, with the few remaining items he owned at his feet, so tyler listened to aidan as he walked to the location of the guest rooms. "it doesn't have to be a long time thing, just until i get on my feet and find someplace else." he clarified. he wasn't certain aidan even wanted him to stay here for the indefinite future, but tyler wasn't going to assume. or overstay his welcome.

once in a room, tyler put his stuff on the bed and sighed, before sitting on the edge. "did you say second balcony?" how many did he have? with a shake of his head, tyler continued on, running his hands through his hair. "i'm not shy." he wasn't. "i let someone do a jello shot off your dining room table the other night." and as if to say fuck it, because he could use some time to relax, tyler pulled his shirt over head. "lead the way." a hot shower sounded good, but a hot tub sounded even better. "unless you weren't being serious." now it was his turn call aidan's bluff.

[hcngover]

aidan rolls his eyes at the mention of debt. "oh, please. if i wanted to collect on a favor, I'd blackmail you like i do with everyone else," he laughs like it's an actual joke, when he's actually being quite truthful. not like he would ever try something like that with a person he likes, though. even the devil has a few morals left. "relax, ty. as you can see, i'm not exactly hurting for space," he says with a shrug. "so, you can stay as long as you need. just don't start referring to my penthouse as 'our place.' that is where i draw the fucking line," aidan laughs again, leading tyler further inside, entering one of his guest rooms.

his eyes flick down almost involuntarily as tyler pulls his shirt over his head. fuck. he'd always known tyler was attractive, but watching him strip in the middle of the guest room made him pause for longer than he'd intended. "well..." he starts, before he slips off his own shirt, tossing it onto a nearby chair. "jacuzzi it is. come on." the second balcony overlooks the city, more or less tucked away from the rest of the penthouse, like an actual secret spot. his jacuzzi sits steaming in a corner, giving the vibe that it was very private. "yeah, i know. you hate me for just having this. i get that a lot, but do tell me what fucking motel competes with this," his gaze drifts to his friend again, crooked smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "and for the record, i was absolutely serious about the skinny dipping." he kicks off his slippers, unbuttons his pants, pulls them down along with his boxers and steps out of them without a second thought. "still can't believe you just accepted your fate without any negotiation."

[whimsyhcrts]

"is that still your favorite song from the album right now?" she questioned the boy. the pair were in the midst of trying to prepare for sectionals, which was quickly approaching. honestly, she was a little suprised that she had gotten assigned a solo and even more suprised that julian had taken such a liking to mcr. "i, um," savannah stumbled on her words ever so slightly. she didn't want to get caught in her lie after all. "i had a bit of a family emergency, needed to go back home for a few days .... that's all," she replied, simply. had julian truly not heard of her fake grandma's injury and hospital stay? was he truly in his own world at the moment, entering his emo and retirement era? "are you stepping down as captain or something?"

[hcngover]

"…still?" julian asks, glancing toward the record player. "i believe so, although i reserve the right to change my mind every twelve hours. that is how you know it is a truly devastating album." his expression softens almost immediately at the mention of a family emergency. "i didn't know." the words come out quietly, not even a trace of their usual theatricality. "i'm sorry, savannah. i hope everything's alright." he pauses before letting out a small sigh. "that… would certainly explain your absence better than my admittedly self-centered theory that you'd abandoned my artistic vision." at her question, he leans back against the edge of the desk, folding his arms. "no. not officially. the retirement is less about relinquishing my position, and more about retiring a version of myself that no longer seemed particularly effective," he shrugs. "so now i'm attempting something of a rebrand."

[shcwtunes]

who: sully & julian @hcngover where: choir room, post sully's first glee club meeting back

"jules!" sully wasn't sure if julian was really a hug guy, but he risks it anyway, figuring this is cause for a celebration bigger than just a courteous handshake - and he's quick to launch himself at his teammate, wrapping his arms around him. "we actually fucking did it, dude!" with the enthusiasm of someone who had just won gold at the olympics, sully beams back at julian as he lets go of him, on top of the world -- for a guy who had really only managed to accomplish getting back into the same club he'd been in a week ago. "i feel like i could run a marathon right now, i have so much energy."

[hcngover]

julian has barely enough time to register sully charging toward him, before he's suddenly enveloped in a hug. for a brief, deeply uncomfortable moment, his arms remain frozen awkwardly at his sides, as if he is uncertain of the correct social protocol. eventually, he settles on two careful pats against the other's back before sully finally releases him. "well, i wasn't quite expecting that... the physical contact part. however, the outcome doesn't surprise me. congratulations, sullivan." a small smile slips through as he looks at him, while he straightens his blazer. julian had spent a large amount of time arguing sullivan's case to mr. kelmeckis. the fact that it had actually worked was, admittedly, satisfying. it made him feel proud of himself that he had taken those steps to righten what he perceived as a wrong, despite the many protests from others. perhaps his instincts weren't as off as everyone was claiming about him. "i'm glad that my conversations with mr. kelmeckis weren't entirely in vain. unfortunately, i feel like often like doesn't actually listen to my arguments," he sighs deeply. at times, it almost felt like talking to a wall. a wall that sometimes decides to talk back and throw what he perceives to be your biggest insecurities in your face. "and evidently, you managed to behave yourself for long enough to convince him to give you a second chance. an achievement worthy of celebration, i'd say," he mildly teases him. "i'm rather interested to know what finally persuaded him."

[oflos3rs]

   brooks looks at the empty chair for a beat, then at julian, as though he's trying to decide whether this is some kind of test. eventually, he drops into the seat with all the care of a man who has never once been accused of being delicate, the chair giving a quiet creak beneath him. "oh, hell yeah." he's already nodding along. "getting to know the new guys. that's good captain stuff." he listens to the rest of julian's question with the earnest attention of someone being given instructions before a game. it's a lot of questions, actually. a whole lot of words for what brooks considers a pretty simple answer. his brows draw together at the mention of carter, though only for a second. then his expression brightens with the sudden clarity of a man who has finally found the right play. "nah. none of that." he leans back, one arm hooking over the back of the chair. there's a comfortable sort of confidence to him, the kind that doesn't come from believing he's the best person in the room, but from never really considering the possibility that he won't figure something out eventually. "goldie mentioned it first. then milo started talking about it, too. and i was like, yeah, why not?" a pause. "i mean, i like teams." simple as that.

   there's something almost childlike in the way he says it, as though teamwork is an obvious virtue and not something people have to be convinced of. brooks has always liked the feeling of being part of something larger than himself. the locker room before a game. the thunder of skates against ice. the brief and electric moment when everyone knows exactly where they're supposed to be. "and you guys do competitions, right?" his eyes light up. "i love competitions." there's the real answer. "like, a lot." he grins, bright and unguarded, as if he's just been told there's a championship on the line. "so i figured i could be good for that. i'm pretty good at getting people hyped up. and i'm strong, so if you guys do those lift things, i can probably help with that. i can dance, too." a beat. "kind of." he laughs, not at all embarrassed by the admission. then, as though he's just remembered the most important part, his face falls into a look of solemn honesty. "i can't sing, though." brooks says it with the gravity of a man confessing to a criminal record. "like, at all." he shrugs, apparently unbothered by this rather significant flaw in his decision to join a singing club.

   if anything, he seems to consider it a minor technical difficulty. "but i can learn." there's no hesitation there. no self-deprecation, no apology. just that same stubborn, sunny certainty that has probably carried him through more than a few things he had no business thinking he could do. "and i don't think you have to be good at everything to be good for a team, y'know?" he gestures between them, his words coming a little faster now that he's found the point he's actually trying to make. "everybody's got their thing. some people sing. some people dance. some people are good at the whole dramatic stuff." his mouth twists thoughtfully. "and some people are really good at making sure everybody doesn't quit ⸻ team morale and all that shit." he points to himself. "that's probably my thing." there's a quiet certainty beneath the goofiness of it, something warm and uncomplicated. brooks doesn't need to be the star. he just wants to win with people he likes, and he has never understood why those things would be mutually exclusive. "so i joined because i thought i'd be a good addition." he settles back into the chair, satisfied with his answer.

[hcngover]

julian remains silent for a moment, fingers lightly tapping against the side of his coffee cup. truthfully, he'd expected another carter cortez type. confident, loud, and entirely convinced that natural charm is all he needs to skate by in this club. however, there was something about brooks that was just refreshingly earnest, something jullian deemed as a deeply unusual quality for a titan. "…before we continue," julian says, raising a finger, "i do feel obligated to acknowledge the freddie mercury tribute on your face," he begins, with a thoughtful nod. "i appreciate the theatricality of it all, and i like how it demonstrates commitment." the captain of the glee club folds his arms on the table, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as brooks goes over his 'skills'. when he finishes, julian lets out a heavy sigh. "i must confess, you've placed me in an artistic dilemma," he frowns. "you've openly admitted you cannot sing, you've described your dancing to me as 'kind of', and your main feature appears to be... morale. seriously, i cannot believe this is where my standards have been lowered to," he shakes his head. "there was a time when i evaluated new members based on their vocal range, technical ability, musical instinct... and now i find myself pleasantly taken in by enthusiasm?" the bar has somehow descended below hell. "then again, i don't encounter many people who are so comfortable admitting what they aren't good at. most insist on proving me wrong, few ever do, but you have simply accepted it." once again, the kind of self-awareness that really only can be describes as refreshing. "i should warn you that i take competitions rather seriously. i always participate with the goal of winning. so, if you're joining this club because you enjoy competing, then we already agree on the important part." his eyes narrow slightly. "i run what has become known as 'julian's classes.' entirely voluntary, before anyone accuses me of artistic authoritarianism again..." he sighs, as all of that nonsense came to mind again for a moment. "i will be frank with you. i see very little point in attempting vocal lessons, but the good news is that not every performer needs to have perfect vocals. your mustache tells me you have good instincts for theatricality, so i think that will be a good place to start."

[xoxoclementines]

@hcngover | clementine has ... questions (maybe he's at the dance building for glee rehearsal brushups?)

"why are you blonde?" it feels like a fair enough question, though she supposes it's very possible he himself doesn't know why he did it. it definitely is giving impulse dye job with a box that has no business coloring anyone's hair. but like- even if it didn't... his change would still beg the question.

"are you okay?"

[hcngover]

julian instinctively reaches up to smooth a strand of blond hair back into place, a faint smile appearing on his features. "i'm in my retirement era, clementine, and a retirement obviously requires a new visual identity. every artistic era deserves one," he explains, in a matter-of-fact tone. "...and no, it wasn't an impulse. not entirely. i did research shades, and even created a pinterest board for my new aesthetic." julian hesitates for a moment before answering her final question. "am i okay? truthfully... i don't know. i've certainly had better weeks, but i'm still standing. my high notes remain perfectly intact, and my bleached locks have received overwhelmingly positive reviews, so i'd say we're trending upward, at least."

[loserspng]

as usual, it takes carter longer than necessary to process julian's monologue. today feels a little different. aside from the obvious change to the other's hair, the hockey player finds himself actually engrossed in the performance. sure there was an art to knocking a puck around on ice, but singing and dancing in the rain? impressive. from his corner of the lot, he scans the crowd slowly forming to catch any potential invitees. he learns nothing when his eyes continuously turn back to julian who is clearly in his element. now thoroughly annoyed when the other dodges him, he throws a single, damp one dollar bill in the tip jar. "you're asking me for money after slut shaming me for being sexy santa? and then proceed to ignore me after asking me to come to this thing?" his eyes trail up and down the other, pinching the wet shirt now clinging to him. "dude, this is pandering," he pauses to reiterate his point and refuses to look away. "and you need dry clothes," he decides for no particular reason. nevermind the fact that he also had conveniently forgotten his umbrella back in his dorm. he tugs the co-captain by the shirt to drag them around the corner where carter's perfectly clean car is parked. "it's from the rain," he offers without any prompt. maybe he had been through the fundraiser once or twice today all in the name of supporting the team. and his favorite blondes. he digs through the backseat of his suv where an extra set of clothes sit in his gym bag. "they're clean." he holds them out, but only for a moment before rescinding them. "you can have them after you tell me who you invited." his eyes drift to his hair. "and why you dyed your hair."

[hcngover]

julian allows himself to be pulled around the corner with far less resistance than he probably should, considering he could have stopped carter at any point. it wouldn't have been difficult to plant his feet and refuse to move. however, he merely raises an eyebrow as the hockey captain tugs him along by the front of his soaked shirt, offering only the occasional theatrical sigh until they reach the male's car. he watches carter rummage through the back seat before producing a neatly folded change of clothes.

"...you brought me clothes?" probably the last thing he had expected to be pulled out of carter's car. strangely considerate, and yet completely out of left field. amused by his own surprise, julian slips easily back into his more provocative side, the part of him that enjoys poking the bear until it snaps... whatever that might mean in carter's case. "i was under the impression you were here to publicly beg me, not to prepare for the possibility that i might require wardrobe assistance." a small smirk curves his lips as he teases him. the two of them were so vastly different, and julian could only imagine that being the main reason he felt so weirdly infatuated with the captain of the titans. curiosity. when they had sung their duet, julian had definitely felt that undeniable spark of chemistry between them. despite carter being the inferior vocalist between the two of them, he had somehow managed to hold his own, stood fearlessly beside him during the performance, and ultimately exceeded julian's expectations.

julian blinks when carter suddenly pulls the clothes back. "ah, so we're negotiating..." the blonde sighs, straightening his posture. "i suppose i do admire a man who understands leverage." his gaze wanders toward the parking lot, as though he is seriously considering answering the question. who did you invite? "i suppose i could tell you, but admittedly, it's become far more entertaining to keep you guessing about whether there might be someone else." of course he catches the flicker in carter's eyes, the one that reads as unmistakable jealousy. there is no way julian is imagining it anymore.

"as for my hair..." julian absentmindedly brushes a damp strand away from his forehead. "it is rather simple. my retirement required a new visual identity. you don't just announce the end of an era looking exactly the same," he says matter-of-factly, as though the answer should be obvious to everyone. before carter can respond, he decides to make a counteroffer of his own. "i will accept your generous donation, carter cortez," he says with a smile, tapping lightly against the folded clothes still in carter's hands. "and in return... i will answer exactly one question honestly. not necessarily the one you just asked, but one." he tilts his head, studying carter's reaction to the proposal. "although, if your first instinct remains asking me who i invited... i do think that tells me a lot more than my answer could ever tell you."

[hcngover]

"…coach kicked savannah off the team for family leave?" a knot tightens in georgia's stomach. if coach steele was willing to cut someone just for taking a short leave, what did that mean for someone who has been on hiatus for the same reason, for nearly three months? for a long moment, she simply stares at her friend, the words refusing to settle in her brain. georgia thought she had done everything right. filed the correct paperwork, kept coach updated whenever there was something to update on. it wasn't like she had vanished without a word. hell, she'd spend the last three years being the kind of athlete coaches begged for. first one at practice, last one to leave. surely she had earned some goodwill? "did.. did she say anything about me?" her voice is shaky, and she absolutely hates how uncertain she sounds in front of a junior member of the squad. "like, did she mention i was coming back, or if she was pissed that i was gone, or…" she sighs deeply, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. "…anything?" @loserspng