clem🪽

masterlist / short introduction .𖥔 ݁ ˖

who do i write for? — mostly alysa liu!!!

do i take requests? — absolutely! cant say i will a hundred percent write them (depending on specific topics), but i’ll definitely take them into consideration <3

. . . ALYSA LIU MASTERLIST

(currently posted/drafts)

౿ ݁ . ROOMMATES / published

synopsis :: the 2026 winter olympics are supposed to be your biggest moment—until you’re assigned a room with alysa liu, your teammate that loves getting under your skin.

౿ ݁ . BAD IDEA / published

synopsis :: secret relationship headcannons

౿ ݁ . DO I WANNA KNOW (part one) / published

synopsis :: after a humiliating mistake during olympic training, you storm off the ice—only for alysa liu, your rival, to follow you into the locker room.

౿ ݁ . DEAD TO ME (part two) / published

synopsis :: a cryptic instagram story by alysa sends you over the edge, making you drag her into an empty room to confront her.

౿ ݁ . PRETTY GIRL / published

synopsis :: when alysa refuses to let you do her makeup, you turn the situation into a full on standoff—pouting, begging, and even denying her a kiss until she finally gives in.

౿ ݁ . FRIENDS / published

synopsis :: after winning your first olympic gold medal together, you and alysa brush off relationship questions in an interview—until fans catch the way alysa looks at you and flood the internet with ship edits.

౿ ݁ . THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT / published

synopsis :: after four years of keeping your relationship secret, alysa and you decide to hard launch on valentine’s day using a viral tiktok trend.

౿ ݁ . DARK RED / published

synopsis :: when you and alysa get stuck in an elevator late at night in the olympic village, the pressure finally becomes too much—and you have a panic attack you can’t hide.

౿ ݁ . KISS ME / published

synopsis :: when alysa ropes you into filming the “chapstick challenge,” it should be a simple game of guessing flavors—but alysa has other priorities.

౿ ݁ . GIRLS / published

synopsis :: you come out to your best friend, alysa liu, a major flirt who doesn’t take anything seriously when it comes to being beside you.

౿ ݁ . APPLE CIDER / draft

synopsis :: alysa is a constant whirlwind in the small cafe where you work, until she leaves for the olympics. one day, your coworker turns on the tv, and alysa appears live with her teammates isabeau and amber, who mercilessly tease her about having a crush on you.

౿ ݁ . LOVERS ROCK / published

synopsis :: college roommate headcannons

౿ ݁ . TEENAGE DIRTBAGS (band au) / incomplete

it’s coming, i promise 🙏

౿ ݁ . 𝓣eenage 𝓓irtbags

band au . . . part five :: disaster set

pairing :: alysa liu x fem! reader

introduction ,, prologue ,, part one ,, part two ,, part three ,, part four

authors note :: got lazy writing the singing part so just ignore that please. xx

the backyard isn’t even that big, it just feels big because there are too many people.

string lights hang unevenly across the fence, music from someone else’s speaker cutting out every few seconds, and there’s a table in the corner with drinks no one’s really keeping track of.

“this is not a gig,” cam mutters, adjusting the strap of his bass case for the fifth time. “this is… a liability.”

“it’s a gig,” devon says, already too excited, already too loud. “there are people. we have instruments. that’s the definition.”

“that is not the definition.”

quinn stands off to the side, arms crossed, scanning the setup like they’re calculating every possible thing that could go wrong. “the extension cords are a hazard.”

“everything is a hazard,” devon says.

you’re standing near the mic, trying not to think too hard.

this is fine. it’s just people, just your band, just-

“you’re thinking too much,” alysa says from behind you.

you turn to face her. she has her guitar slung over her shoulder, hair slightly messy like always, but there’s something focused in her expression tonight.

“i’m not,” you say.

she raises an eyebrow.

you immediately look away. “okay, maybe a little.”

she grins. “don’t.”

“don’t what?” you ask.

she sighs. “don’t freak out before we even start.”

you shake your head. “i’m not freaking out.”

“you’re about to,” she mutters.

you exhale through your nose. “what if we suck?”

“we will,” she says easily.

you blink. “wow, thanks.”

she shrugs. “they won’t know the difference.”

you stare at her. “that’s not comforting.”

“it’s honest,” she leans in slightly, just enough that her voice drops. “and you’re good.”

you freeze for half a second.

then devon yells from across the yard. “ARE WE DOING THIS OR WHAT?”

the moment snaps.

“yeah,” you call back quickly. “we’re doing this.”

cam groans quietly, and quinn sighs.

alysa just smirks. “showtime, drama queen.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling just a little.

✯

it starts… okay. you step up to the mic, adjusting it slightly, and the feedback squeals for half a second.

“good start,” cam mutters.

“shut up,” you whisper. you grip the mic, looking out at the crowd. people are talking, half paying attention, and someone is cheering randomly for no reason.

devon starts anyway.

“cold hearted girl, don’t hurt me like this anymore.”

you hesitantly look around behind you, seeing the band in the form they’re exactly supposed to be.

“i’m waiting right outside your door, saying “baby, can we talk?””

that’s your cue.

“stupid boy, you keep on beggin’ but i won’t let you in.”

“you keep on cryin’ but you know what you did, i’ll never let you back in.”

for a second, it actually works. then, the mic cuts out right when you and devon were supposed to sing together.

you blink, tapping it once. “hello?” you say.

devon keeps going, too fast now like he’s trying to compensate.

“devon-“ you start.

he doesn’t stop.

cam tries to follow, but misses a note. he keeps playing anyway.

quinn presses a key that’s it’s slightly off. they notice immediately, and their expression tightens.

alysa just keeps playing like this is exactly how it’s supposed to sound.

you look at her, and she looks back. “just go,” she mouths.

so you do. you and devon project louder without the mics, voices pushing over the mess of sound.

it’s uncoordinated, and borderline a disaster. but somehow, people are still watching. someone in the back cheers, and another person starts clapping off beat.

devon speeds up again. cam almost loses the rhythm entirely. quinn’s playing gets more precise and controlled.

after a while, the song was coming to an end, and you push through the last line.

when it ends, there’s a second of silence before applause.

devon throws his hands up like he just performed at a stadium. “dirtbags, we did that!”

cam stares at him. “did what, exactly?”

he grins proudly. “performed.”

“that was barely a performance,” cam mutters.

“wow,” devon says. “negative energy already?”

quinn is already unplugging cables too hard.

you glance at them carefully. “q?”

they don’t look up. “the timing fell apart halfway through the second verse.”

devon throws an arm out dramatically. “and yet, we survived.”

“that’s not the point,” quinn snaps.

cam exhales sharply, adjusting the strap on his bass before pulling it off completely. “q’s right.”

devon blinks. “oh, come on.”

“no, seriously,” cam says. “that was a mess.”

alysa walks closer. “people liked it,” she finally says.

“people clap when someone drops plates at restaurants too,” quinn says flatly.

devon scoffs loudly. “okay, that’s dramatic.”

“you sped up twice,” quinn shoots back.

devon’s eyes widen. “because the mic cut out!”

“and panicking fixed that?” quinn snaps.

“i wasn’t panicking,” devon says.

cam laughs once, disbelieving. “dude, you were playing like the building was on fire.”

devon’s expression dropped a little. “at least i kept going.”

“that’s not the same as playing well,” cam says.

“oh my god,” devon throws his hands up. “who cares?”

the uncomfortable silence makes your skin crawl.

quinn finally looks at him. “i do.”

devon swallows, eyes scanning the rest of the band.

“we all should,” quinn continues, voice tighter now. “we sound sloppy because nobody takes rehearsal seriously.”

“that’s not true,” you cut in quickly.

quinn looks at you, frustrated. “we’ve been working on that songs for weeks,” they say. “and the second something went wrong, everything collapsed.”

“not everything,” you say softly.

cam shakes his head. “it kinda did.”

you glance between them, your chest tightening a little. “okay,” you say carefully. “yeah, parts of it sucked. but it was still our first real gig.”

“exactly,” devon says immediately. “thank you.”

“i’m not saying it didn’t matter,” you add quickly before he gets too smug. “i’m saying maybe we don’t need to act like the band… exploded, or something.”

“easy for you to say,” quinn says, looking directly at you now, jaw tight.

“quinn,” you say softly.

“no, seriously,” they interrupt. “you always do this.”

“do what?” you ask quietly.

“you smooth everything over.” their voice isn’t loud, but it cuts anyway. “something goes wrong, and suddenly we’re all supposed to laugh about it because ‘it’s not a big deal.’”

“what?” you scoff slightly. “that’s not what i’m saying-“

“then what are you saying?” quinn asks.

you open your mouth. before closing it again.

devon’s expression drops slightly, like even he realizes this stopped being funny.

“i just…” you start carefully, “i don’t think tearing each other apart over one bad set is helping either.”

“and pretending it was fine helps?”

“i never said it was fine.”

“you basically did.”

“quinn,” cam says quietly.

they exhale sharply, frustrated more at themselves than anyone now. “we could actually be good,” they say. “like really good. but nobody takes anything seriously.”

“i take it seriously,” you say.

“do you?” they snap, voice raising.

your face falls slightly before you can stop it.

and that’s when alysa finally walks closer from where she had been standing. “quinn, chill the fuck out.

quinn’s eyes widen a little. “i didn’t mean-”

“yeah, you did,” alysa cuts them off. she gestures vaguely toward you. “she’s the only reason this band functions.”

“alysa,” you mumble immediately.

“no, seriously,” she says, cutting you off this time. “you think any of us would’ve even played tonight if she didn’t drag us into it?”

devon snorts quietly. “fair.”

“she writes half the songs,” alysa continues. “she keeps rehearsals from turning into complete disasters-“

“they still turn into disasters,” cam mutters.

“yeah, because of us,” alysa shoots back.

cam raises both hands immediately.

you’re still staring at her. she sounds genuinely annoyed, not teasing this time, but actually defending you. and something about that makes your chest feel weirdly tight.

quinn rubs a hand over their face, frustration finally cracking into exhaustion. “i know,” they say quieter now. “i know she cares.” quinn glances at you briefly. “i’m just frustrated.”

you nod slowly. “i know.”

quinn grabs their keyboard bag fully. “i need a minute.” they walk off toward the side gate.

cam hesitates for a second before sighing. “i should probably go make sure they don’t disappear forever.”

“bring them back if they find a new band,” devon calls.

cam points at him. “you are part of the problem,” then he follows after quinn.

silence settles over the three of you left behind.

devon immediately opens his mouth again. “okay, but in my defense-“

you barely hear him. because alysa’s still looking at you, like she’s checking if you’re okay. and for some reason, that affects you more than quinn snapping did.

✯

eventually, everyone drifts. cam and quinn never really come back after walking off. devon disappears inside again at some point, probably searching for food.

the party keeps going without any of you. music muffled through the walls, people laughing too loud, and string lights flickering against the fence.

and somehow, you end up outside, sitting on the curb near the driveway with your elbows resting on your knees.

you stare down at the cracked pavement between your shoes, trying not to replay the argument over and over again, but failing a little.

the front door creaks open behind you.

you don’t have to look behind you to know who it is.

alysa drops down beside you with a quiet grunt, close enough that your shoulders almost touch.

“quinn will cool off,” alysa says.

you glance sideways at her.

she’s leaning back slightly on her hands, staring out toward the street instead of at you, hair messy from the heat and humidity, rings catching faint light from the house behind you.

“yeah,” you murmur. “i know.”

alysa sighs. “they didn’t mean it like that.”

“i know,” you repeat softer this time.

silence settles, but not like before.

alysa nudges her knee with yours. “for the record,” she says casually. “you looked kinda hot yelling over the broken mic.”

you stare at her completely straight face. “alysa.”

she smiles a little, smiley piercing showing. “what?”

you bump your shoulder into hers, hard enough to make her laugh quietly. “shut up.”

“yes, ma’am,” she says.

you roll your eyes, but you can’t stop smiling a little.

the music inside shifts songs, and you can hear someone cheer loudly.

you glance down at your hands for a second before speaking. “thanks.”

alysa looks over. “for what? calling you hot?”

you smile a little. “no, i-“ you start. “for earlier,” you say quietly. you shrug one shoulder awkwardly. “you didn’t have to defend me like that.”

she frowns slightly, like the idea itself confuses her. “yeah,” she says. “i did.” alysa looks away again almost immediately after saying it, like she didn’t mean for it to sound so honest.

you stare at her side profile for a second. then, before you can overthink it, you lean sideways slightly and rest your head against her shoulder. you feel her go still. completely still.

your voice comes out quiet. “don’t think about this too much.”

the band au might have slow updates since i genuinely don’t know what else to write… like i have one draft that’s in need of pure editing and it’s lowk kinda boring. but i LIVEEE for slowburn, so i’m trying not to go too quick with the romance side since i really do want to dive deeper into literally every single characters lore 🥹🥹

౿ ݁ . 𝓣eenage 𝓓irtbags

band au . . . part four :: too hot to be talented

pairing :: alysa liu x fem! reader

introduction ,, prologue ,, part one ,, part two ,, part three

during winter, you always found yourself looking forward to summer. but now that it was here, you wished you could go back to the cold.

the garage door is half open, and the fan in the corner rattling as it spins, doing absolutely nothing.

devon is shirtless, flat on his back on the floor, one arm thrown over his face. “it’s actually illegal to be this hot,” he groans.

cam is sitting on a stool, bass in his lap, turning the tuning pegs with zero conviction. he plucks a string before wincing. “i think i’m dying,” he says.

quinn lets out a sigh, still looking down their notebook. they haven’t written anything in at least twenty minutes.

you’re standing in the middle of all of it, trying. “okay,” you start, clapping your hands once. weakly. “from the top.”

no one moves. devon groans louder, cam doesn’t even look up, quinn flips a page they didn’t write on.

and alysa is leaning against the wall, guitar hanging loose from her shoulder. her head is tipped back slightly, hair sticking to her forehead from the heat. her breathing is heavy, her chest rising and falling, mouth just barely open like she’s too tired to bother closing it.

you try not to stare, but it’s so impossible. so incredibly impossible for you to take your eyes off her.

“like what you see, sweetheart?” alysa’s voice calls out.

you snap out of it, finding a small, knowing smirk tugging at alysa’s lips. you roll your eyes immediately. “you wish.”

she huffs out a quiet laugh, but doesn’t look away. “i do,” she says.

you turn away before she can see your face for too long. “can we focus?” you try again. “please?”

“no,” devon says instantly.

cam raises a hand slightly. “i second that.”

quinn finally looks up. “i physically cannot think in this temperature.”

you exhale slowly. “we have a song to finish.”

“we have heatstroke,” devon corrects.

you glance at alysa. she’s still watching you, still not playing. “you’re supposed to be helping,” you say.

she shrugs, pushing herself off the wall just enough to adjust her grip on the guitar. “i am helping,” she says. “morale support.”

you squint. “you’re not supporting anything.”

she grins. “you seem motivated.”

you adjust your grip on the mic, glancing around the garage like maybe they’ll suddenly act like a band.

devon is still on the floor, cam is still half tuning, quinn hasn’t written a single word, and alysa is waiting for your cue.

you clear your throat. “okay, from the top.”

no response.

“guys?”

devon groans but drags himself up just enough to sit behind his drums, sticks hanging loosely in his hands. cam sighs, straightening a little. quinn flips back a page like that’ll help.

alysa finally lifts her guitar into position, still looking at you.

devon halfheartedly clicks his drumsticks together. “one, two, three.”

you start the song, your voice cutting through the heat.

for half a second, it almost works. then, devon comes in late.

you sigh. “devon—”

“i heard it!” he snaps. “i’m adjusting!”

cam hits a note that’s not the right one. he winces immediately. “that was wrong.”

“yeah,” quinn says, clicking random keys. “we noticed.”

you try to keep going before alysa starts playing something completely different.

you stop mid line to stare at her. “what are you doing?”

she just shrugs, still strumming. “improvising.”

devon misses another cue, cam stops entirely, and quinn drops their head onto the keys. everything collapses at once.

you lower the mic slowly, looking back at alysa.

the idea of practicing had disappeared completely.

devon flops back onto the floor like his bones gave up. “i’m done,” he announces to the ceiling. “rehearsal is canceled.”

you blink. “you can’t just cancel rehearsal.”

he lifts his arm dramatically, pointing at the air like he’s making a speech. “we’re not a band right now, we’re victims.”

cam nods immediately. “yeah. yeah, that’s accurate.”

quinn closes their notebook with a soft thud. “i’m not arguing with that.”

you look between all of them slowly. “we have a song to finish,” you repeat.

devon doesn’t even open his eyes. “we have a temperature problem.”

“it’s not even that bad,” you try.

the fan makes a loud, pathetic clicking noise like it disagrees.

devon wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. “i can feel my brain melting.”

“you don’t use your brain,” cam mutters.

“exactly,” devon shoots back. “so imagine how bad it is.”

you let out a sigh of defeat. “we could at least try one more—”

“no,” everyone says at the same time.

“okay, maybe not,” you say.

devon suddenly sits up. “if i stay in here any longer,” he says, serious now. “i’m actually going to die.”

“you’ve said that three times,” quinn replies.

“this time i mean it.”

“you meant it the other times.”

“this is different.”

cam groans, dragging a hand through his hair. “okay, so what do we do, then? just… sit here and suffer?”

“i’m already suffering,” devon says.

“we know,” you mumble.

alysa pushes off the wall. “we could go to the lake.”

everyone looks at her. like the idea just hit all at once.

devon sits up fully. “aly, you’re a genius.”

alysa’s eyes widen. “i am?”

cam nods. “well yeah.”

quinn is already standing. “i’m not dying in this garage.”

“we’re going right now,” cam says, suddenly energized.

devon scrambles to his feet like he’s been revived. “why didn’t we think of that earlier?”

you look around at all of them. they all stare at you, waiting for your confirmation. “fine,” you sigh. “lets go to the lake.”

✯

the second you all stepped out of the garage, it somehow felt worse. the heat stuck to you instantly.

“this was a mistake,” devon says, already regretting everything as he kicks a rock down the path.

“you were the one dying two seconds ago,” you point out.

“i am dying,” he corrects. “this is just… a more scenic death.”

alysa and cam walk behind the group as quinn walks ahead slightly, hands shoved in their pockets, clearly done with everything.

devon kicks another rock, misses, and kicks it again. “i swear,” he mutters, “if this lake isn’t cold—”

“why would it be hot?” you ask.

“dunno know,” devon shrugs. “physics?”

cam whispers something under his breath about devon needing to repeat middle school.

you shake your head, but you’re smiling a little. gravel crunches under your shoes as you walk, and dust kicks up with every step.

alysa moves beside you after a minute. “you look miserable,” she says.

you glance at her. “i am miserable.”

“unfortunate,” she frowns.

you nudge her lightly with your shoulder. “you’re not helping.”

she nudges you back, harder. “i’m great help.”

you scoff. “you haven’t done anything.”

“i suggested the lake,” she immediately says.

you roll your eyes. “okay, that’s one thing.”

she grins as you guys keep walking. every time you glance over, she’s already looking. and when you look away, she doesn’t.

“you’re staring,” you mutter.

she hums. “you noticed.”

“hard not to,” you say.

“good.”

you shake your head, looking forward again, trying to ignore the way she keeps drifting just a little closer.

up ahead, the path starts to open, trees thin out, and then the lake is visible, sunlight reflecting off it. for a second, everyone collectively stops.

“finally,” cam breathes.

devon doesn’t wait, he takes off running. “i’m going in!”

water explodes around him as he disappears under the surface.

“oh my god,” you laugh.

quinn sighs, already stepping forward.

“worth it!” devon yells from the water.

cam sets his stuff down in a rush. “guess we’re doing this,” he stands at the edge of the lake for exactly three seconds before he jumps in like he’s trying to commit to the idea before he can think about it twice. “oh my god—” cam gasps as he surfaces. “it’s freezing.”

quinn sighs from the shore like this is all deeply predictable. “you’re all idiots,” then they kick off their shoes anyway, rolling their eyes the entire time, and step into the water.

devon immediately splashes them, and quinn retaliates instantly. it escalates within seconds.

you’re still standing on the shore, watching it all unfold like it’s a bad decision in real time.

alysa is beside you, waiting. “you just gonna stand there and look pretty?” she asks.

you glance at her. “maybe.”

down in the water, devon is yelling something incoherent, dunking cam under again. cam resurfaces, offended and flailing.

devon looks up, spotting you and alysa. “lovebirds,” he yells. “get in here!”

you hesitate before kicking off your shoes.

alysa watches the whole thing, not saying anything.

you grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and tossing it somewhere behind you without really thinking about it, leaving you in just your sports bra and shorts.

you step forward, feet hitting the lake, causing the cold rush up your legs. you jump after a second, causing a splash.

devon splashes you immediately.

you laugh, wiping water from your face.

devon swims over fast, and before you can move, he grabs you, pulling you into the mess of the water like you’ve always been part of it. “no escaping now,” he says.

you shriek. “i wasn’t escaping!”

“liar,” he says, dunking you slightly.

you resurface laughing, pushing him back before looking over at alysa who’s still on the shore. she’s not moving, her eyes are on devon’s arm still loosely around you as he drags you further into the lake. she looks away quickly, running a hand through her hair.

“are you coming in or just staring?” cam yells from the water.

alysa exhales through her nose before taking her tank top off, leaving her in just her sports bra and shorts like you. she steps forward until she’s at the edge.

you don’t even fully process it before she jumps. the splash hits you immediately. cold water right in your face.

you sputter. “rude!”

she surfaces a second later, hair already sticking to her forehead, a grin tugging at her mouth like she planned that.

devon whoops somewhere behind you. “team is complete!”

cam is still adjusting to the water like he’s negotiating with it. quinn stays a respectful distance away, arms crossed.

you wipe water from your eyes, turning back, and alysa is already closer.

cam tries to move closer, immediately loses balance. “oh my. okay, nope-” he splashes wildly just to stay upright.

alysa cuts through the water toward you, not even acknowledging devon trying to spin in place like a maniac. and before you can react, she grabs your wrist, pulling you enough that you’re suddenly closer.

“hey-” you start.

“focus,” she says, then immediately flicks water at your face.

you choke laugh. “what is your problem?”

“you.”

you squint. “that’s not an answer.”

she shrugs. “it is.”

devon gasps dramatically behind you. “oh my god, it’s happening.”

“shut up,” you call back.

alysa doesn’t let go of your wrist, she just adjusts her grip.

you splash her, harder than intended.

she barely reacts, just smiles like that was the point. then she pulls you slightly deeper into the water again, and stays right there. close enough that every time you move, she’s still there.

cam finally gives up trying to stay composed and just floats in place. “i think i’m just gonna exist here.”

quinn sighs. “same.”

devon is still actively splashing everyone like it’s a sport.

alysa is still looking at you like she’s winning something no one else can see.

✯

eventually, even devon runs out of energy. which is saying something. splashes get smaller, and arguments turn into tired laughter.

you float in the water, breathing steady again. water rocks you gently instead of tossing you around.

alysa drifts close to you again. “you’re quieter now,” she says.

you hum. “yeah, i’m conserving energy for your nonsense later.”

that gets a small laugh out of her. “you survived,” she says.

“barely,” you mutter.

behind you, devon splashes cam one last time out of pure habit, and cam just groans. quinn sighs like they’ve transcended this entire situation.

when you glance at alysa, she’s already looking at you again. “what now?” you ask.

“nothing,” she says immediately.

you raise an eyebrow. “you’re doing your staring thing again.

she hums. “maybe you’re just very stare worthy.”

you scoff. “or you just have a staring problem.”

“you like it.”

you don’t respond this time, you just look away first. but you don’t move further, and neither does she.

the water rocks gently around you, voices fading into the background again.

“we’re definitely not practicing after this,” you murmur.

“we weren’t practicing before this,” she replies.

౿ ݁ . 𝓣eenage 𝓓irtbags

band au . . . part three :: sleepover

pairing :: alysa liu x fem! reader

introduction ,, prologue ,, part one ,, part two

devon’s house always felt like it belonged to someone else.

it was untouched like rooms existed just to prove they could. family photos lined the hallway, but none of them were recent. same smiles were frozen in time like no one had thought to update them.

devon never talked about it.

his parents were always gone—work trips, late nights, things that sounded important enough not to question. he’d mention it sometimes, casually, like it was normal.

and maybe it was for him, but you notice the way how fast the house fills up the second all of you walk in.

because quiet doesn’t suit him. he’s too loud for that. so instead, he fills it with music, arguments, and you guys.

as much as he complains about hosting every time, he still lets you all in every time.

whether he wanted to admit it or not, the noise, the chaos, and the band was the closest thing he’s got to something that stays.

but for now, he’ll still complain.

“just so we’re clear,” devon says, kicking the door shut behind all of you. “this was not my first choice.”

you step inside, dropping your bag by the couch. “you say that every time.”

“because every time i’m right,” he shoots back. “i could’ve thrown a party. like a real party. with cool people.”

quinn glances around the empty house. “and yet… here we are.”

“yeah,” cam adds, holding up a bag of chips. “with snacks.”

devon scoffs. “you guys are the snacks.”

“that didn’t come out how you thought it did,” alysa says, making you stifle a laugh.

“dev, you’re so ungrateful,” you finally say.

“i’m not ungrateful,” devon argues. “i’m just saying, it’s my house, my rules, and i choose to hang out with you dorks instead of becoming a legend tonight.”

“you were never becoming a legend,” quinn says flatly.

alysa snorts from the couch, tossing a blanket over her shoulders like a cape. “face it, dev. this is your peak.”

he holds up his hands. “my peak hasn’t even started, aly.”

you shake your head, smiling despite yourself, and start arranging pillows on the floor.

eventually, the living room is covered in blankets and pillows, the tv playing superbad.

alysa drops down next to you, like always. “this seat taken?” she asks, grin wide.

you roll your eyes. “yes, actually.”

alysa squints. “by who?”

you look around the room. cam was already sitting cross legged on the other side of the couch, devon sat on the floor with his head resting against the couch, and quinn was in the kitchen, searching for an energy drink in devon’s fridge.

“quinn,” you say, holding your chin up a little higher.

alysa narrows her eyes. “hey, q?” alysa yells, still staring at you.

quinn groans from the kitchen, closing the fridge with a thud. “what do you want?”

“are you sitting next to drama queen?” she asks, finally taking her gaze off you.

before you can say anything, quinn is already walking into the living room again, holding some random can. “take it,” quinn shrugs, already sitting on the arm rest of the couch.

alysa’s gaze finds yours again, smiling widely.

you huff, crossing your arms a little.

“relax, i don’t bite,” alysa says, scooting closer and dropping her head closer to your ear. “unless you want me to,” she whispers.

you just sit up more, leaning forward with your elbows resting on your legs, hands on your chin. “pervert,” you whisper.

from the tv, fogell says his iconic “mclovin” line.

devon groans immediately. “this movie is stupid.”

“it’s not stupid,” alysa replies. “it’s a classic.”

you glance at the screen, and then back again, a little more interested than you meant to be. “michael cera is the only thing keeping me watching.”

alysa tilts her head. “that’s your type?”

you huff. “that’s not what i meant.”

“i know,” she says, lips twitching. “just taking notes.”

devon snorts. “yeah, aly, take notes. maybe start acting awkward and apologizing for everything.”

“i can do awkward,” alysa says immediately.

“well, you already do annoying,” quinn adds.

cam laughs quietly, eyes still on the screen. “he’s funny, though.”

“of course you’d think so, cam,” devon snorts.

cam immediately sits up straighter. “the hell does that mean?”

“oh, you know what it means,” devon whispers.

as devon and cam go back and forth, arguing, alysa leans closer. her shoulder presses lightly against yours. “you like funny?” she murmurs.

you don’t look at her. “i like people who don’t talk during movies.”

“wow,” she whispers. “that’s crazy. couldn’t be me.”

devon throws popcorn at both of you. “if you two flirt any louder, i’m kicking you out.”

“we’re not flirting,” you say.

alysa hums. “easy for you to say.”

✯

“y/n,” cam mumbles from somewhere under a pile of blankets. “we’re starving.”

you don’t even open your eyes. “and what do you want me to do about that?”

“uh, make us something?” devon says in obvious tone.

being the so-called “leader” of the band as the vocalist meant you somehow always got stuck with the domestic duties, like you were their mom.

“i need food,” devon insists. “i need substance, i need-“

“you need to shut up,” quinn mutters from the other side of the room.

cam sits up abruptly. “come on.”

“no,” you say immediately.

“yes,” he counters, already standing. “field trip to the kitchen.”

devon groans but pushes himself up anyway. quinn sighs, dragging a blanket with them. alysa doesn’t say anything, she looks at you, waiting.

you stare at all of them. “none of you know how to cook.”

“that’s why we have you,” devon says with a smile.

you exhale slowly. “i hate all of you.”

“love you too, drama queen.”

the kitchen light is way too bright for this time of night. it flickers on, exposing all of you in your half asleep, messy state—blankets over shoulders, hair a disaster.

“okay,” you say, tying your hair back. “i’ll make something.”

devon gasps. “you’re a hero.”

you grab bread, cheese, and butter to make grilled cheese. it was something you usually made during rehearsals since it was something everyone liked, and devon literally had nothing else in the kitchen.

“grilled cheese?” deven clutches his chest. “marry me.”

quinn snorts, glancing at alysa. “you’re late.”

“yeah, i called it first,” alysa nods.

you turn around, sending her a glance. “did i agree to that?”

alysa smiles, shaking her head innocently. “not yet.”

you turn your attention back to the stove. “keep talking and you all won’t be eating.”

cam sighs. “sorry, mom.”

alysa leans in, voice dropping. “don’t worry,” she murmurs. “she’ll be making us food all the time once we’re married.”

you don’t even look at her. “that sounds a little sexist.”

alysa pauses, immediately backtracking. “oh. no, no, then i’ll cook.”

devon bursts out laughing. “oh, absolutely not. do not let aly anywhere near a kitchen again.”

“that was one time,” alysa defends.

quinn raises an eyebrow. “you blew up your microwave.”

alysa’s eyes widened. “i didn’t blow it up-”

“you put a fork in it,” cam adds.

alysa throws her hands up. “i forgot it was on the plate!”

you stifle a laugh as start heating the pan.

behind you, cabinets open, drawers slide, and whispering is heard.

you slowly turn around. “why are you touching things?”

cam freezes, holding a pack of ham. “i was just-“

“nope.”

devon holds up a bag of chips. “what if we-“

“no.”

quinn leans against the counter. “i’m not doing anything.”

you turn to look at them. “you’re thinking about it.”

they sigh. “i am.”

alysa, meanwhile, has somehow ended up right behind you. “i think you should let me help,” she says.

you don’t face her. “absolutely not.”

“i could be useful,” alysa says.

“you’re not.”

alysa frowns a little. “that’s harsh.”

“you’re the one who almost blew up her microwave,” you say, trying not to smile.

alysa huffs, leaning against the counter.

you butter the bread, place it in the pan, listening to the soft sizzle.

for a second, it’s calm. until alysa’s hand reaches past you, grabbing a slice of cheese.

you don’t even hesitate. “alysa.”

“what?” she asks, already taking a bite.

you turn your head slightly.

she right there, closer than you expected, smiling like an idiot.

you signal to the cheese in her hand.

alysa pretends to think. “taste testing.”

“you’re stealing,” you correct.

she shrugs. “same thing.”

you roll your eyes, turning back to the stove.

“okay but hear me out,” devon says from behind you, holding up a sandwich stacked with cheese, chips, and something that might be pickles. “innovation.”

“that’s disgusting,” quinn says.

“it’s art,” devon grins.

cam carefully assembles his like it’s a science project. “i’m just saying,” he mutters, “if you balance the ingredients-“

“you’re overthinking grilled cheese,” devon interrupts.

cam’s eyes widen. “i’m not.”

devon hums. “you are.”

you flip your sandwich, perfectly golden.

alysa leans against the counter beside you now, watching you instead of the stove. “you’re… so good at this,” she says, just to speak to you.

you shrug. “it’s grilled cheese.”

she tilts her head. “still.”

you slide it onto a plate, cutting it cleanly in half. before you can even set it down, alysa takes one.

you blink. “did you just-“

“yep.” she takes a bite like it’s hers.

“make your own,” you say.

she smiles. “i like yours better.”

you squint. “you didn’t even try yours?”

alysa shakes her head. “i don’t need to.”

devon appears beside you. “where’s mine?”

you stare at him. “you were supposed to make it.”

“i tried,” he says. “it fell apart.”

you glance at his sandwich that’s barely holding together. you sigh before grabbing another piece of bread.

“wow,” quinn says. “look at that, she’s doing it anyway.”

“she loves us,” devon teases.

you shake your head. “one out of three.”

alysa holds a hand to her heart. “aww, is the one me?”

you narrow your eyes. “nope, it’s cam,” you signal to cam, who’s putting pickles on his sandwich.

“love you, drama queen,” he says, not even looking up.

alysa crosses her arms. “so you do like awkward guys?”

you shake your head, laughing. “i dont like guys. period.”

“so…” alysa drags out the word. “just awkward?”

you don’t answer her.

“i can do awkward pretty well, you know?” alysa says. “i actually-“

you let out a loud sigh. “shut up, liu.”

“okay,” is all alysa says.

devon’s snorts from beside her. “whipped.”

alysa grabs a cheese, slapping it onto devon’s cheek.

devon turns his head slowly. “oh, you bitc-“

“get out of my kitchen,” you finally snap, turning around to face them.

“actually, this is my kitchen,” devon corrects, cheese still on his face.

you send him a stern glare.

he sighs in defeat. “okay,” he walks out the kitchen beside alysa, slapping her shoulder before running off to the living room like a child.

✯

everyone falls asleep eventually. devon’s snoring was immediate. cam is buried in a blanket, comic still in his hand like he lost a fight with sleep. quinn is completely still, which either means they’re asleep, or very much not.

and you’re awake, staring at the ceiling. you close your eyes, then open them again. you let out a quiet sigh, shifting a little. your shoulder presses back into something warm and solid.

you freeze, taking a breath. you didn’t realize how close alysa was. or maybe you did, just not that close.

you start to move forward, slowly and carefully, trying not to wake her.

a hand settles lightly at your waist, causing you to go still again.

“don’t move…” she mumbles. her voice is rough with sleep, barely there.

you glance over your shoulder. you can’t fully see her face in the dark, but she’s definitely not asleep, not fully at least. “i wasn’t,” you whisper.

her grip shifts. “i’m too tired for this, drama queen,” she mutters.

you blink. “i didn’t do anything.”

“you did,” she says, words slurring together a little. “you moved.”

you almost laugh. “you’re the one holding me here.”

“mhm,” she mumbles. “problem?”

you hesitate. “no.”

she just hums like that settles it.

you try to shift again, just a tiny bit, but her hand presses a fraction closer to your waist.

“hey,” she murmurs. “you can’t pull away now that you’re so close.”

your breath catches. “i’m literally trying to sleep.”

“then sleep,” she mumbles.

you stare at the wall. “you’re making that difficult.”

another quiet hum comes from her. “sounds like a you problem.”

you huff softly, but you don’t move. her hand doesn’t either. it rests there like she forgot to take it away, or didn’t want to.

“alysa…” you whisper. “are you even awake?” you asks. “or sleep talking?”

she huffs quietly. “don’t know.”

you bite back a smile.

her hand shifts slightly. “go to sleep,” she mumbles.

“you’re holding me,” you whisper.

“deal with it.”

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band au . . . part two :: go away

pairing :: alysa liu x fem! reader

introduction ,, prologue ,, part one

when you agreed to be in a band with these idiots, you thought it meant you all would be contributing to writing songs. you, unfortunately, were wrong.

you’re hunched over your lyric book, pen scraping across the page.

quinn sits next to you, muttering suggestions, while devon bounces around hanging up posters on the walls like he’s redecorating a museum of teenageism.

cam’s sprawled in the corner, nose buried in a comic book, eyebrows furrowed at some plot twist only he cares about.

alysa leans against the couch armrest, mirror in hand, applying eyeliner with the kind of precision that makes you question her priorities.

“where’d you get that?” you ask, noticing the mirror.

“your purse,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you squint. “you know i have, like… personal stuff in there, right?”

“relax,” she murmurs, tilting her head. “i didn’t take anything.”

you notice the sheen on her lips. “alysa, did you use my lipgloss?”

she licks her lips slowly, then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “what lipgloss?”

devon groans from where he’s standing on a wooden chair he had dragged in from his kitchen. “this stupid fucking poster won’t—”

suddenly, the chair wobbles beneath him. he topples over, landing squarely on cam’s legs.

“ow?!” cam yelps.

“you broke my fall,” devon says dramatically, hand to chest.

“and you just broke my comic book,” cam holds up a creased page, glaring. “do you know how expensive this is? limited edition, von!”

“geez, you’re such a dork,” devon snorts, unfazed, but still resting on his legs.

you throw your hands up. “you guys, quinn and i are literally trying to benefit the band here!”

quinn clears their throat. “we’ve been stuck on the first verse for twenty minutes.”

“shh,” you whisper. “they don’t know that.”

alysa saunters over, smirk in place. “why do you need our help? you’re the one with the beauty and brains.”

“because,” you mutter, “something’s missing.” you glance at quinn’s messy handwriting in the lyric book.

cam stands, leaning over to read a line. “it’s a bit… short.”

“exactly,” quinn says. “it needs more.”

devon peers at the lyrics, squinting like he’s actually thinking for once.

alysa rests her chin on the armrest, poking your outer thigh right at the edge of your skirt.

“stop that,” you murmur.

she smiles innocently, eyes locked on yours.

“hmm,” devon suddenly says, snapping his fingers. “what if we add the man’s point of view?”

the song was about a girl shutting a cheating boy out, a classic angsty alternative rock that apparently every teenager loved.

quinn raises an eyebrow. “and… what do we do with that? are we forgetting that drama queen here is literally our only singer?”

“how many times have i asked you guys to stop calling me that?” you groan, hiding your face in your hands.

devon ignores you. “we could test it with me.”

“you’re gonna sing?” alysa laughs in disbelief.

“yeah, i’ll try.” devon shrugs. “unless… you want to?”

“hell no,” alysa huffs.

“none of us can sing besides y/n,” cam crosses his arms, eyebrows knit.

you sigh, exasperated. “i’m desperate at this point. who cares if devon sucks? we just need something.”

✯

the four of you cluster around the extra microphone devon set up near his drum kit.

you glance at the lyrics.

“cold hearted girl, don’t hurt me like this anymore.”

“i’m waitin’ right outside your door, saying “baby, can we talk?””

you tap the page, trying to find the rhythm in your head. “It’s working, but it’s missing… charisma.”

alysa smirks, strumming her guitar lazily, eyes never leaving yours. “you mean, you,” she teases.

“shut up,” you mutter, cheeks warming.

✯

you start singing the first verse, voice cutting cleanly through the garage.

“stupid boy, you keep on begging, but i won’t let you in.”

“you keep on cryin’, but you know what you did.”

“i’ll never let you back in.”

alysa’s guitar riffs underneath, making you flinch slightly every time her fingers graze the strings. you catch her smirk from the corner of your eye, trying not to laugh.

“okay, add me here,” devon says from the drum kit. he gives a quick glance, like he’s already imagining his part. “let’s say “go away” in unison.”

you squint.

“adds character,” he winks.

you sigh in defeat. “fine, but don’t ruin it.”

devon grins. “me? ruin? never.”

he jumps in with his raspy, surprisingly expressive voice.

“go away, go away.”

“go away, go away, go away.”

“go away, go away, go away.”

“don’t come back here anymore.”

alysa leans closer, poking your hip with the tip of her guitar. “he’s stealing your spotlight.”

“focus on your damn guitar,” you snap.

“fine,” she pouts, but the smirk doesn’t leave.

devon jumps in again.

“i was wrong.”

“i hurt your feelings when i did what i did.”

“i’ve learned my lesson, i’ll stop acting like a kid.”

“can you give me one more chance?”

quinn keeps time on the keyboard, subtly accenting the beat, and cam bounces the bass in the corner.

the final verse hits. you and devon trade lines like a conversation, voices overlapping, electric energy blasting from the garage floor to the ceiling.

“but my life is incomplete without you, whoa.”

“and you miss the little things that i do.”

“you do.”

“won’t you take me back?”

“that was your last chance.”

alysa’s guitar wails behind you as quinn’s fingers fly across the keys. cam’s bass is subtle, but grounds it all.

when it ends, silence falls. you all waiting for someone to make the first move.

devon leans back, wiping sweat from his forehead. “well… i think we got our first single.”

alysa smirks, nudging your shoulder with hers. “not bad, drama queen.”

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band au . . . part one :: financially irresponsible behavior

pairing :: alysa liu x fem! reader

introduction ,, prologue

the bell above the door jingles like it’s already annoyed you exist, which feels accurate.

“okay,” devon says immediately, walking in like he owns the place, “rule number one, if we break something, we run.”

“we’re not breaking anything,” cam says, already trailing behind him, eyes lighting up at a wall of bass guitars like he just found heaven.

devon shakes his head. “you don’t know that yet.”

the music store was loud in a quiet way—random notes being played, someone testing a drum kit in the back, a guitar being tuned badly somewhere near the amps.

“don’t touch anything you can’t afford.” you say automatically.

alysa looks at you, then immediately picks up the nearest guitar.

you stare at her, crossing your arms.

“what?” alysa asks. “i can afford this,” she strums something that sounds almost like a real song before purposefully messing it up.

quinn disappears within seconds, like actually vanishes. one second they’re next to you, the next they’re halfway across the store, silently testing a keyboard like they’ve been there their whole life.

“do they teleport?” devon asks.

“yes,” you and cam say at the same time.

devon’s already at the drums a minute later. he sits down, spins a stick between his fingers, and immediately starts playing something loud enough to turn three heads and one very tired employee.

“devon,” you warn.

“what?” he says, not stopping. “i’m bonding with the instrument.”

“you’re harassing it,” you correct.

cam gently picks up a bass like it might disintegrate if he breathes too hard. “oh my god,” he whispers. “this is… okay, wait, listen to this—” he plays a few notes, the sound turning out surprisingly good.

you blink. “since when can you do that?”

cam looks up with an offended look on his face. “i’ve always been able to do that.”

you shake your head “no, you haven’t.”

“yes, i have.” he says, adjusting the instrument. “you’re just too busy charming everyone with your voice to notice the background noise.”

you snort. “i don’t charm.”

“speak for yourself,” alysa appears next to you again.

you turn slightly to face her. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you know exactly what it’s supposed to mean, sweetheart,” she says, nudging your shoulder with hers. “try this one.”

you glance at the electric guitar she’s holding. “i don’t play guitar.”

alysa snorts. “not with that attitude.”

you roll your eyes but take it anyway, strumming awkwardly. it sounds terrible.

devon immediately stops drumming just to yell, “oh, that’s bad.”

“shut up!” you snap.

“i’m just being honest!” he holds up his hands in defense, dropping the drumsticks in the process.

the sound of the sticks hitting the floor makes more employees turn around again, eyeing the messy haired boy sternly.

“sorry, i uh—“ he leans down to pick up the sticks. “they’re… perfectly fine.” he says, voice breaking in the process.

cam tries to hold in his laugh, but fails.

alysa chuckles right next to your ear, the sound of her low voice practically going down your spine. “you’re doing great,” she says, which would sound encouraging if she wasn’t clearly amused.

you sigh. “i think i’ll stick to my… charming voice.”

✯

time passes in a blur of bad riffs, devon getting told to “keep it down” three separate times, quinn appearing then disappearing in the same second, cam falling in love with at least four different basses, and alysa following you around like a shadow.

eventually, you all end up at the front counter with a small pile of things between you—drumsticks, new strings, and a guitar pick alysa insists is life changing.

the cashier scans everything, and the total flashes on the screen.

devon claps his hands once. “alright,” he says. “aly, you know the drill.”

silence.

alysa leans against the counter casually. “i didn’t bring any money.”

you turn your head to her slowly. “alysa.”

she smiles innocently, knowing that you were about to go all out on her. she always loved when you did that, partially because of how hot you looked when you scolded her.

you signal to her with you hand. “you pay for everything.”

“exactly,” alysa says easily. “i disagree with it.”

“on what basis?” quinn asks.

“vibes,” alysa nods with her lips in a line.

“you have terrible vibes,” you say.

alysa furrows her eyebrows. “my vibes are immaculate.”

the cashier is watching this like it’s a reality show.

devon sighs dramatically. “wow, betrayed by the upper class.”

“i’m not upper class,” alysa protests.

devon scoffs dramatically. “you literally have better shoes than all of us combined.”

alysa rolls her eyes. “these are old.”

“they’re shining,” cam stares down at her shoes, then back to his dirty converse.

you cross your arms. “just pay, alysa.”

“nope.” she shakes her head.

you step closer, and so does she. now you’re both standing there, way too close for a normal argument about money.

“pay,” you repeat.

she tilts her head. “make me.”

devon gasps. “oh, this is getting good.”

quinn hits his shoulder. “shut up, dev.”

you narrow your eyes, and alysa raises an eyebrow, waiting.

you reach forward to her wrist, grabbing it just enough to pull her hand toward the card reader. “pay,” you say again.

for a second, she doesn’t pull away, she just looks at you. then she laughs, shaking her head, and tapping her card anyway. “unbelievable,” she mutters.

transaction approved.

devon throws his hands up. “and that’s how you handle the rich!”

“i hate all of you,” alysa says.

“you love us,” cam corrects.

you let go of her wrist a second too late.

alysa glances at you, smiling again. “careful, sweetheart,” she murmurs. “you’re getting real bossy.”

you roll your eyes, turning away before she can see your small smile. “someone has to be.”

behind you, devon speaks up, “next stop,” he announces, “world domination.”

“next stop,” cam corrects, “practice.”

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band au . . . prologue

pairing :: alysa liu x fem! reader

introduction

nobody knows when it actually started.

there was no “we formed a band on this exact day” story, there wasn’t any dramatic origin moment with a handshake and a dream.

It’s more like you were all just there.

devon’s flithy garage smelt like energy drinks, and something he definitely spilled weeks ago and never cleaned up.

“don’t step there,” devon calls lazily from behind the drum kit, not even looking up. “that’s… not dry.”

“that makes it worse,” you shoot back, carefully hopping over a suspicious dark spot on the floor.

devon shrugs, pushing his messy dark hair out of his face, guyliner slightly smudged like he hasn’t slept in three days. “builds character.”

“you are a character,” cam mutters from the corner, hunched over his bass, fiddling with a cable that absolutely did not need fixing.

“you’re literally wearing a spider man shirt,” devon fires back.

cam scoffs. “it’s vintage.”

devon sends a stern look. “It’s from last year.”

a guitar screeches loudly from across the garage.

“wow,” alysa says, grinning like she didn’t just assault everyone’s ears. “that was louder than i expected.”

“do that again and i’m quitting,” quinn says flatly from behind the keyboard, not looking up.

“you say that every time,” alysa replies.

quinn let’s out a tired sigh. “and yet i’m still here, curious.”

you roll your eyes, dropping your bag onto the old couch that’s definitely older than all of you combined.

this is what your summer looks like. no parties, no vacations, no teenage pregnancies, but a garage with four idiots surrounding you.

“alright, sweetheart, you ready or are you just gonna stand there judging us?” alysa calls, leaning back against her amp, guitar slung low, striped hair catching the light like she planned it.

you narrow your eyes. “don’t call me that.”

alysa shrugs. “it fits.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “i hate you.”

“you love me,” alysa says, tilting her head a little

“debatable.” you shoot back.

alysa grins with that stupid, knowing grin.

“can we please just start?” quinn says, finally looking up. “some of us would like to leave before we die of secondhand embarrassment.”

“you literally agreed to be in the band?” cam points out.

“against my will.” quinn mutters.

devon taps his sticks together. “okay, from the top. and try not to mess it up this time.”

you stare at him. “you messed it up last time.”

he rolls his eyes. “that’s not the point.”

alysa steps close enough that you can feel the heat off her, close enough that if you turned your head, you would—nevermind.

“you gonna sing today,” she murmurs, low enough that the others can’t hear, “or just stand there looking pretty?”

you roll your eyes, pretending that you’re heart didn’t skip a beat. “why are you always so full of yourself?”

alysa’s grin just becomes wider. “what? you want me to be full of you instead?”

your jaw drops. you turn your head, really to tell her off, but devon’s voice cuts through the tension.

“hello!” he yells. “band? music? ringing any bells??”

“relax,” alysa calls back, not taking her eyes off you. “we’re having a moment.”

“we are not,” you snap.

quinn snorts.

cam finally plugs in his bass, testing a note. it hums low and steady.

devon counts in. “1, 2, 3—”

everything clicks into place immediately. the noise, the chaos, and the way everything somehow works even when it shouldn’t.

your voice cuts through, filling the space like it belongs there.

“heavens send someone down,

i’m bout to turn this confession to a smoke cloud.”

alysa’s guitar crashes in, messy but electric, like she’s barely holding it together on purpose.

cam follows in steady, quinn layers in effortlessly, and devon somehow keeps it all from falling apart.

“she understands me like you did,

she really loves me.”

it’s not perfect or clean, and definitely not even good by most people’s standards, but it’s yours.

when the song ends, noise fading around the garage, there’s a second where everything goes quiet.

“…okay,” cam says slowly. “that was actually kinda—”

“don’t say it,” quinn warns.

“…good.” cam finishes his sentence hesitantly.

quinn leans their head back. “ugh.”

yes, it’ll be full written!! (i tried to do a smau once and it SUCKED horribly)

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band au . . . introduction

pairing :: alysa liu x fem! reader

what kind of idiots start a band the summer before senior year?

no, seriously. who looks at the last few months of freedom before everything changes—before college, before real life, before people start leaving—and thinks, “yeah, let’s lock ourselves in a dusty garage, argue over chord progressions, and emotionally ruin each other.”

apparently, you do. and alysa (who finds way too much thrill in teasing you). and devon (who definitely hasn’t cleaned his drums ever). and cam (who says he’s “just fixing the amp” but has been fixing it for three hours). and quinn (who claims they don’t even like you guys, but still shows up first every day).

it starts the way all bad ideas do. too loud, too late, and way too confident for a group of people who barely know what they’re doing.

the music is messy and sometimes actually good.

but the band is worse. because somewhere between late night practices, stolen hoodies, inside jokes that make no sense, and one very questionable demo, things start to shift.

jokes last a little too long, touches linger a little too much, and alysa liu doesn’t stop.

she flirts relentlessly like it’s some sick joke, and like it doesn’t make your heart do something weird and inconvenient and very noticeable.

and maybe it is nothing, maybe this is just what summer feels like—loud, chaotic, temporary.

or maybe, this is the kind of mistake you don’t come back from.

because by the time the garage feels too small and the nights feel too short, it’s already too late to pretend it didn’t mean anything.

a band, a summer, a really bad idea, and five people who are about to find out that growing up doesn’t happen all at once. it happens in moments, loud ones, messy ones, and the kind you wish you could play again for just one more time.

THE TEENAGE DIRTBAGS!

✯ you (she/her). vocals. the control freak.

✯ alysa (she/her). electric guitar. the flirt.

✯ devon (he/him). drums. the menace.

✯ cam (he/him). bass. the dork.

✯ quinn (they/them). keys. the observer.

“i give us about two weeks before we either become famous… or banned from this neighborhood.”

part zero :: prologue

“rule number one, if we break something, we run.”

part one :: financially irresponsible behavior

“focus on your damn guitar.”

part two :: go away

“if you two flirt any louder, i’m kicking you out.”

part three :: sleepover

“we’re not a band right now, we’re victims.”

part four :: too hot to be talented

“you looked kinda hot yelling over the broken mic.”

by tv girl .𖥔 ݁ ˖

pairing :: lowk grumpy! alysa x sunshine! fem reader

synopsis :: college roommates headcannons

authors note :: discovered i have a deep love for headcannons so you guys are going to be sick of me

she’s always randomly in your space

— when you come back from a long class, alysa is literally sitting on your bed like she owns it, scrolling on her phone.

“that’s my bed.” you stare blankly at her.

she doesn’t even look up. “yeah, i know.”

“then why are you on it?” you cross your arms.

alysa huffs, mumbling, “there was a spider on mine.”

“what?” you squint.

“there was a spider on my bed when i woke up this morning, and now i’m too scared to go back on it.” alysa speaks louder, still scrolling on her phone.

“you’re such a baby.” you tease, but plop down onto the bed anyway.

she steals your clothes but refuses to admit it

— you’ll be looking for your favorite hoodie for hours before alysa walks in wearing it like it’s hers.

you dramatically gasp. “is that my hoodie?”

alysa slowly looks down at the hoodie, then back up at you. “no.”

“it literally says my name on the tag.” you signal with your hands.

alysa scoffs like you’re the one who stole from her. “okay but it was left unattended in your closet, so i claim.”

you roll your eyes. “you can’t claim my clothes.”

alysa walks into the bathroom. “too late!”

— she keeps it on all day.

late night talks are your guys thing

— you’ll both be up at like 2am. you’re on your bed scrolling, and alysa is at her desk doing homework. you’re both silent, but comfortable.

you sigh, finally breaking the silence. “do you ever get scared about the future?”

alysa pauses for a second, then quietly goes, “sometimes.”

— that’s when you realize she trusts you more than anyone.

she pretends she doesn’t care about your personal life, but knows everything

— alysa acts like she doesn’t listen, but she obviously does.

“so, did your cousin get into nyu?” alysa asks.

you turn around slowly. “…i’ve never mentioned her name to you.”

alysa shrugs. “i hear things.”

— she doesn’t, she just listens to you on the phone all the time.

alysa “protective” liu

— you have friends in your room sometimes. alysa stays quiet, polite, but she always listens to the conversations more than necessary. if your guy friend says something flirty to you, and you’re clearly uncomfortable, alysa’s voice suddenly gets sharp.

“don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

— EVERYONE gets the message.

you’re the only one who really sees the real alysa

— everyone on campus assumes alysa is like super professional and sometimes intimidating, but you see her:

barefoot

hair messy

in sweatpants 24/7

sitting on the floor eating ceral out of the box

you catch her once and she goes, “don’t tell anyone.”

you smile. “my lips are sealed.”

your shared bathroom might be alysa’s worst nightmare

— she walks in and sees like twenty skincare (or makeup) products.

alysa blinks. “are you building a lab?”

“it’s called self care.” you say.

alysa scoffs. “it’s called a waste of time.”

but then later in the day she ask, “which one helps with under eye circles?”

alysa first complained about your perfume, but after a few weeks, she started associating it with you.

— one day you leave for a weekend trip, and alysa’s room feels wrong. it feels too quiet and empty for her liking. she doesn’t admit it, but she sprays your perfume once because she misses you.

she’s weirdly domestic without realizing

— you’ll be studying and she just appears and drops snacks on your bed, not saying anything.

when you say thank you she goes, “don’t make it a big deal.”

more hangouts start happening

— starts small with:

coffee runs

library sessions

grocery store trips

— but then suddenly you’re walking around target at night together like a married couple.

you pick up a blanket. “this is cute.”

“get it.” alysa says, no emotion in her voice.

you turn to face her. “why?”

alysa shrugs. “it’ll match our room.”

alysa is a horrible liar when she’s jealous

— you mention you might go to a party, and alysa shrugs, but her face is so blank it’s terrifying.

then later she casually says, “parties are stupid.”

you raise a brow. “are you jealous?”

alysa blinks. “no.”

then she adds, “just don’t let anyone touch you.”

she becomes your personal alarm clock

— you oversleep once, and alysa wakes you up by ripping your curtains open.

“what is wrong with you?” you mumble, blocking your eyes from the sunlight.

alysa tosses your pillow that had fell from your bed overnight back to you. “you’re late.”

you groan. “you could’ve been gentle.”

alysa deadpans, “i don’t do gentle.”

but then she hands you your coffee, already made.

movie nights become daily

you’ll be like, “come watch a movie with me.”

alysa rolls her eyes. “you pick the worst movies.”

but she sits anyway.

— she pretends she’s not invested. until you look over and she’s fully locked in, chin on her hand. then she gets emotional at a sad scene and tries to hide it.

“are you crying?” you chuckle in disbelief.

alysa sniffles. “no. what?”

she is.

alysa falls asleep in your bed constantly

— she swears she doesn’t, but she always ends up there. like she’ll be sitting on your bed while you talk, then she’s suddenly leaning back, and next thing you know she’s asleep. you cover her with your blanket.

she wakes up later and goes, “i didn’t mean to.”

but she doesn’t move.

you = her personal hairstylist

— you’re sitting behind her on the floor, braiding her hair.

alysa is quiet before she says, “no one’s ever done this for me before.”

— your heart literally shatters. alysa is the oldest of five siblings, so she’s never had someone be so “domestic” to her.

alysa acts like she hates affection until it’s you

— she’ll deny being clingy. but if you’re stressed, she’ll sit beside you on your bed and bump her shoulder into yours. when you lean into her, she doesn’t pull away, she just sighs like she’s giving in.

she starts calling your stuff “ours”

“did you move our shampoo?” alysa realizes what she said and clears her throat. “i mean, yours. whatever.”

but her ears are red.

alysa is always accidentally in your tiktoks

— you’re filming a grwm, and alysa is in the background, sitting on her bed, staring into space like she’s having war flashbacks.

when you post it, the comments are like:

“WHO IS THE HOT GIRL IN THE BACK??”

“she’s so girlfriend coded”

“YO IS THAT ALYSA LIU??”

alysa reads the comments and goes, “delete that.”

you shake your head. “nope.”

alysa hates your scented candles with a passion

— you light a vanilla cupcake candle. alysa enters the room and instantly freezes. she looks around like she’s been deployed.

she scrunches her nose. “what is that smell?”

“vanilla.” you say proudly.

“it smells like a bakery exploded.”

you smile. “exactly.”

— alysa opens the window in the middle of winter out of spite.

you talk to her like she’s your husband (jokingly)

you’ll yell across the room, “BABE, WHERE’S MY COMPUTER?”

alysa groans. “don’t call me that.”

a smile spreads across your face. “okay honey.”

alysa’s face is dead serious. “stop.”

“okay sweetie pie.” you wink.

alysa throws a pillow at you.

patience is a myth for alysa

— you’re doing your makeup in the mirror, music blasting, and you’re singing horribly. alysa is sitting on her bed with her hands over her ears like she’s being tortured.

finally she says, “are you trying to summon something?”

you put your hairbrush down. “yes, confidence.”

alysa snorts. “summon talent instead.”

“quiet hours” do not exist

— you come back from the dining hall and slam the door open.

“alysa, you will not believe what happened today.” your voice high.

alysa is half asleep, she doesn’t even open her eyes. “if you’re bleeding, go to the nurse.”

you sigh. “worse. i got rejected by the cute person at starbucks.”

alysa sits up. “good.”

you raise a brow. “good?”

alysa shrugs. “yeah, you’re way too pretty for them.”

— she lays back down like she didn’t just drop the sweetest thing ever.

alysa acts like she doesn’t care but secretly joins your drama

— you’ll be ranting about your professor.

“he HATES me, i can feel it.” you say.

alysa chuckles a little. “no he doesn’t.”

you groan. “yes he does. he literally sighed when i walked in.”

alysa nods. “okay, he’s definitely threatened by you.”

you sigh in relief. “someone gets it.”

alysa leans back. “men are weak.”

you’re alysa’s personal hairstylist, but she’s your personal outfit judge.

— you walk out in a cute outfit. or at least, what you thought was cute.

alysa glances up. “you’re wearing that?”

you fake gasp. “excuse me? i though i looked nice.”

“you look like you’re going to brunch and a funeral at the same time.” alysa deadpans.

“fashion is that way sometimes.” you cross your arms.

alysa nods slowly. “right…”

but she keeps staring for way too long.

alysa’s version of affection is bullying

you sigh. “do you think i’m pretty?”

alysa says, “yeah.”

you tilt your head. “aww, really?”

“…annoying.” she finishes. “you’re pretty annoying.”

you gasp. “ALYSA???”