ZANY!

In the time since Jude had last seen Rosa, he’d almost set his dorm on fire by nodding off with a lit spliff, crashed a car into a brick wall (intent behind this pending investigation) and received a rather squiggly stick ‘n’ poke of a dog with socked paws and an eggplant plump snout on his shoulder, ‘DOG IS GOD’ scrawled finely above. The lettering was still subtly raised, red around the edges to match the rim of his blinks. Sketching arm cast and snug to his chest, Teddy had attempted to roll him his usual abundance with little help from Jude’s perfectionist backseat driving, fingers quaking enough that he couldn’t help but squint in dismay for the entire process. He’d still thanked Teddy for his assistance, though he couldn’t help but eye the line of spliffs like they were a spider thumped relentlessly beneath an obnoxiously heavy bible, eight limbs splayed and crooked on a hardwood floor. He was out back, away from the party’s hub, sat on a bench before a pond which had spawned a sizeable caviar stack of frog’s eggs beneath the shadow cast by a thicket of grass. There was a candle clumsily thumped onto a saucer besides him – a fine China plate he’d stolen from a cupboard by the sink – and wax dribbled like an incontinent member of the elderly while the flame swayed, about as graceless as Jude looked, all fractured and bruised, banana paper dangling from his mouth like an exotic jungle moth taken perch. He’d spoken to Rosa, since the rooftop – little things, here and there – until suddenly, like a radio tossed into of a bathtub with it’s receptors fried, nothing. No signal, no communication. Then the crash, the swapping seats with a sober passenger, the shifting in a hospital bed as they asked him uncomfortable questions, each floating him up and further away. Forgive me for being frank, but you don’t seem… affected by this. You don’t seem to care that this could have been much worse. “Alright?” he greeted after a short delay, only realising someone had approached when he blinked upwards of the pond, gaging just a silhouette, at first – then, swift as a backhand to the face, Rosa’s name in his throat, not ready to leave his mouth but not willing to swallow and digest itself, either. His eyes drooped back to the pond, glimmering with the moon, so wet and silver he was half tempted to fish it out with a butterfly net and crack it open in a pan, suck the yolk to poison whatever sleeping werewolf he had living inside him. “Caught me doing my, uh… Dickens stroll of the grounds,” he referenced the candle besides him, suddenly sorry he wasn’t wearing Edwardian pyjamas fit with a pompom tipped night cap, breezeless night doing wonders for the glow’s survival. Like some deity somewhere thought he ought to catch a break, swamp marsh of his brain considered, a no man’s land he’d entered and never returned from, feet firmly lodged and sinking. Engulfed all the way to his neck, his eyelids. “Just saw a fuckin’… particularly handsome frog, leaping about in the reeds. Potential, uh… eyebrow lift, very striking. Member of the Hadid dynasty, ‘s my bet. Got any, uh…” Stall. “Fuckin’… Dunno what’s, uh… Chapstick?” he finished like his mind had stalled, a Nokia operating on a one bar network, eyes on the pond despite their usual obligation to watch her like he’d never watched anything else. There was an apology there, maybe, in his reluctance to acknowledge the need for one. Jude fumbled through these things with the long limbed awkwardness of a giant in a cottage with low ceilings, never particularly sure how to express anything, never sure if he even wanted to try. It felt like attempting fluency in a foreign language he’d never learned, sometimes. Being sincere about anything. Admitting he felt things. “Might, uh… Might pucker up. Kiss a fella back to his true form. Do my bit.” @excvlsior​

When she’d been 10, Rosa had started to count. Time that passed by, how many days until her next birthday, the next Christmas - she was just so proud of herself for nailing the 8′s time tables, it only felt appropriate. Just when she’d run out of things to count, ways to keep an idle mind occupied, Sylvie had passed. Rosa was out of the phase now, didn’t really keep track of things like that anymore, but she knew it was 4108 days since Sylvie wasn’t her best friend. Even if she didn’t think of it like that - wasn’t that the way the world viewed it? Out of sight, out of mind had never been a phrase she liked anymore because of it. It’d been 593 days since Tatiana, and the only way she could handle that number was by reasoning it was nothing compared to 4108. It was okay, to count those days still. She’d told a therapist once that she liked to count the days since her Big Two - a title said therapist used to refer to Sylvie and Tatiana, so Rosa knew right away she wouldn’t get along with her - and she’d said it was time to move on, drop the numbers. Rosa never saw her again. She’d also been a bit too aggressive about Rosa’s romantic past, one that’d been nonexistent up until that point. There’d be a party thrown in the waiting lobby if she found out Rosa had subconsciously started counting the days since Jude had last sent her an oddly placed but still endearing text - endearing because any text from Jude meant he was thinking of Rosa, even if his communication skills lacked a certain affection. His attention alone was affection enough - it’d taken Rosa a long time to learn that. But then the affection in the form of a picture of a Dorito chip he’d named Borg ended and suddenly five days had gone by and Rosa was painfully aware of it. She didn’t want to be - it actually embarrassed her a bit, that she was - but it seemed now, that she was more attached than she’d like to admit. More attached than she even knew. Two days later, on the seventh day, a rumour mill had started. Unintentionally - Teddy had always been a bit of a blabber mouth (a thought she had in private, using the more appropriate term gossip in the face of Lana and the like), and it proved so after his fifth or sixth shot at dollar beer night earlier in the week, going on about how he drew the biggest smiley face possible on Jude’s cast. Rosa had attempted to text Jude again after that, the keyword again enough to prove that she had, in fact, grown overly fond, but her rumours of a broken arm and car crash going on? can i come visit, make sure ur ok? went without a response. It simultaneously switched from the front and back of her mind for the rest of the week, both incapable of letting go of Jude and if he was okay, where they stood, and refusing to acknowledge it at all. There was nothing Rosa ever wanted to face, even if it seemed like she enjoyed placing the weight of the world on her shoulders. By the 11th day, she was at a party with Lana and Freya, forgetting any issues because that’s what parties were for - forgetting, having fun, drinking, the sort. And yet the second someone complained about how Jude had bumped into them, knocked their drink out of their hand onto their white shirt on his way to the backyard, Rosa was tossing back the shot Lana had handed to her, ready to go, grasping onto two cider’s she’d brought with her as she exited. Jude’s silhouette could be seen from the back door, and it made Rosa’s heart leap into her throat - in this moment, she was the most exasperating person she knew, “Cor,” she said in response to Jude’s greeting. It made no sense, didn’t fit into their conversation at all given the context of the word, but she’d been saying it since her sudden infatuation with it after Jude’d blurted it before making their way onto the rooftop. Rosa wasn’t listening, when Jude went on about Dickens, frogs, Chapstick - her eyes strayed away from his face, but she still ventured to the farther side of the bench to see if what she’d heard was true, cast coming into view and finally easing away any nervous curiosity. Or making it worse - she couldn’t tell yet, “Had to see - I’m nosey, and you didn’t text me back,” Rosa didn’t mean for it to sound like a jab, but it did anyway, usual bluntness making it sound like she was purposely pushing when for the most part, she wanted to avoid, “Uh, no Chapstick - I’ve got lipstick, if that works. More flirty,” she’d never worn it much before, when Lana did her makeup maybe, but otherwise had never found a shade she was particularly fond of. Now, she wore something barely there, more tinted lip balm than lipstick, but the plum tint was obvious enough she wouldn’t have to insist there was some on, “Here,” The bottle of cider held out towards Jude was almost aggressive - she was suddenly far too embarrassed by her vulnerable nicety to present the drink with any eloquence, “Hope I’m not imposing on your time. Anymore of your time - I know how to take a hint, but. Y’know, I do worry. My heart has grown three sizes as of late, I couldn’t help it. Even before I heard about,” Gesturing to his battered arm, “I wasn’t sure if it was true. Some girls in class were talking about it - do you know a Dinah? She heard it from Teddy. I heard it from Teddy, the next day. He’s very chatty,” Taking a step forward, Rosa almost considered sitting down beside Jude, blabbering on for so long she forgot that maybe she wasn’t wanted, “I want to sign your cast. If you’ll let me. I’ve always wanted to. I did give you one of my drinks, Jude - I’m officially blackmailing you into it now,” Rosa’s tone was teasing, automatically falling back into the way she’d usually talk to him, before remembering that she had reason to think she needed to walk on thin ice. Maybe that was dramatic - still, it’s all she could ponder over, about a thousand things on her mind weighing her tongue down like a pressor before a swab to the mouth. It was the alcohol, in the end, that had her carefully saying, “Are you okay?” Then, quickly, knowing Jude probably wouldn’t want to talk about it despite the words slipping out because she couldn’t stop herself, not with him, “Lie, if you need to. Just had to ask.”

blake & angel. if the hum of his beat-up old volvo hadn’t been heard from down the street, the scrape of it bottoming out in the poorly paved driveway and the screech of his weathered brakes were surely indicative of his arrival home.  the wagon has seen better days— more than one hubcap is missing, duct tape keeps the driver’s side fender in place, and the numerous bumper stickers adorning it’s tail-end are worn, so much so that some were becoming illegible—but blake likes it that way. it has character, much like himself, he believes. he flicks the cigarette he’d held between his lips, toeing it out against the asphalt. he’s whistling as he enters his apartment, heels of his cowboy boots clacking against the hardwood as he seeks out his wife. in his hands— nails freshly painted an array of colors, from indulging his residents during manicure hour at the nursing home earlier that afternoon— he held a box of gourmet donuts. it’s not uncommon for him to come home with something of the sort; goods from the bakery not far from his job, a bouquet of flowers from a roadside stand, something he sketches for her while feigning note taking at care plan meetings. he was never not thinking of her, when they were away from each other. 

when he finds angel, he places a lingering kiss to her head. he drinks in her scent, giving a sigh of contentedness. “sweets for my sweet,” he remarks, dimple hollowing out beside his mouth, tugged up into a smirk. walking the floor to the dining table, he sets them down and sinks into a seat, but not before narrowing his eyes at the selection of donuts. his eyesight’s so poor that he can’t see even that short of a distance without straining, yet he’s still too proud for glasses. he chooses and settles into a chair, giving an exaggerated groan of relief after being on his feet the majority of the day. “the real reason i brought these,” he begins, through a mouthful, “is because there’s some news and i don’t know how you’re gonna take it.” there’s a long pause as he swallows, but he eventually gets on with it. “there’s this woman at the home. stone cold fox. she’s got these wiry hairs sprouting out of her chin, boobs so big they touch her knees when she sits, and she calls me drake in this voice that’s so deep and so raspy from years of smoking what i can only imagine was a pack a day. thinks i’m her boyfriend. told me she’d give me a baby today, if i wanted. a son. needless to say, i’m leaving you for her.” @excvlsior​

Humming to the song filtering through the speaker in their apartment, Angel completely missed the tell-tale screech/pop/growl combo of Blake’s car entering the parking lot. She’d told him before that even if she was on the top floor, she’d still pick up on it - because it meant he was home, and because if she’d been in space the moon would have shaken from the rumble of it. But she was too busy enjoying Glass Animals to pick up on it for once, worrying over a cook book recipe that was completely out of her league. Grilled cheese was out of her league, but Angel was nothing if not stubborn. The sound of the front door opening had her gaze flicking rapidly from her watch, to the time on the stove (she didn’t trust herself to set her watch to the right time), to where Blake was entering. It’d make anyone relatively normal blatantly cringe with the way she bounced onto the tips of her toes, human Jack-In-The-Box, face lighting up as they entered an unspoken race to see who could get to each other first, “Hi!” she chirped over the music, attempting to turn it down on her phone while simultaneously wrap her arms around Blake’s neck, “I missed you today!” Angel missed him every day - when she thought of him, spoke of him while they were going, at work, spending their days apart, she sounded more like someone speaking of a crush, barely in their talking phase, not her husband. The honeymoon phase wasn’t mean to last this long, but there was no immediate end in sight.

“Ah, I see,” she murmured, tone solemn, though it was obvious it was put on. There hadn’t been even a moment’s hesitation when Angel had plunked herself onto Blake’s lap once he sat, legs curled up and stretched over his own like a content cat - the image was mildly juvenile, something kiddy and middle school, her powdered sugar grin really the cherry on top, “Didn’t realize the competition was so stiff. I wish you’d told me before, I wouldn’t have shaved yesterday,” Once, her friend had said she’d seemed a lot more giddy these days. Their tone hadn’t insinuated that they meant it as a compliment, even though Angel did feel a lot happier, but they’d more concerned with how seemingly fast they’d moved forward in their relationship than how over the moon she was. Out of sight out of mind, had been the way Angel treated any backlash or questioning - the memory barely lingered as she lifted her hand to cup Blake’s jaw, just so she could press a thumb into his dimples. She’d live in his dimples if she could, “If it was sons you wanted all you had to do was say. I’ll give you a hundred. As long as they have your dimples, they’ll all be more perfect than the last.”

Before she could let the joke - kind of joke, there was a seriousness to it that was practically tangible, that maybe she didn’t wanna touch on just yet - linger in the air for too long, she was nodding in the direction of the donuts Blake had brought home, “Don’t eat too many! I’m making dinner!” The implications of her announcement were dangerous, “Gordon Ramsey says a chicken only needs to cook for 30 minutes but that felt - I mean, that can’t be true, that feels like definitely not long enough, right? I didn’t want to risk food poisoning, so it’s been in there for about... two hours now? It can probably come out soon,” With her back to the kitchen, Angel couldn’t pick up on the comedic timing of her assumption being paired with an almost unnoticeable layer of smoke beginning to drift towards the living room. Instead, she busied herself instead with finally pressing a kiss to Blake’s cheek, then his mouth. It’d been easy to ignore the smell of smoke on his shirt when she hadn’t been leaning it, but it clung to his skin too, a barely there taste under sugary donut. Angel didn’t like to be a nag, especially when it came to her husband - she’d grown up learning to bite her tongue, but she couldn’t stop the shift in her face when evidence she couldn’t pretend wasn’t there anymore came to light, “Is it red or white wine that goes with chicken?” she asked, thought already swept under the rug, “Or - rose? I’m trying to be classy, but it’s not exactly my forte.”

↳ INSTAGRAM: @GUNNERPAXTON UPLOADED A PHOTO AND TAGGED @PIPERHODES

very cool girl. 👍 #️1️ certified. i am very lucky. u make me very happy i hope it’s mutual. u also made me excited for the future for the first time, i would be honoured to spend it with u. :)❤️ 🛸🌎🌠

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Perched on the toilet of a bustling party, Joshua had joined her piss break in a routine tryst where they kept each other company, rattling off quips as they switched turns going. Clem had barely started to listen to her own tinkling before Joshua veered into Scout territory, picking over an exchange they’d apparently had with a fine toothed comb. She leaned back like she was thudding into an armchair after a long day at work, exasperated laugh leaving her mouth. “Is it actually, like… worth it? Agonising over her like you’re a testicle down?” She averted her eyes as she teased him. “This is gettin’ real drastic. I have a ping pong ball lined up in case you need a synthetic replacement. I’m ready to make the cut.” Clem tore off a piece of loo roll far too ardently, switching things up by calmly folding into a square – even in moments where she’d expect to lose control, she had a firm tether, never allowed to veer too far. Her emotions were a wild horse she’d muzzled and reigned years ago. Regardless, they still bucked. “Besides, she’s with Preston.” She’d wiped and flushed in the space of a blink, neon green cycling shorts tugged up around her hips – paired with an oversized t-shirt that almost swallowed the colour completely and pale blue glitter on her eyes, it was quite the contrast. “They’re pro’l’ly fuckin’ all the time, or – or starin’ into each other’s eyes or, like – y’know, whatever people in love do.” Swearing sounded strange in her mouth. Unnatural. Sweet as syrup off a spoon, pitched high like some southern abomination of a Disney Princess. “’Scuse me.” Pushing at his shoulder to move him out of the way, she sent the sink’s faucet gushing. Clem kept pumping until she had a disgracefully large pile of soap. Unavoidable. She had to make seven, unaware that her lips had silently moved to count. “And, y’know. You’re really cool. If she doesn’t get that, that’s – there’s other people that do.” That felt too on-the-nose, all of a sudden, so she attempted to cool it with a generic phrase, delivered all nonchalant. “There’s plenty more fish in the sea, y’know?” @excvlsior​

Since Joshua had risen at 3 PM, he’d been shaky, jittery, practically bouncing off the walls. The three energy drinks he’d consumed weren’t all too helpful, but he’d assumed they’d wear off by now, especially with the weight of alcohol present. Usually he woke up earlier, but the night before had been a late one with his present company - time got away from him easily where Clem was concerned. He hadn’t realized when he’d started to hop on the spot, to the beat of the music pounding outside of the door, mind momentarily getting away from him as he rambled - his back was, politely, turned to Clem as she peed, despite the fact that he hadn’t cared if she did the same when he went first, and there was no real need for modesty between them anymore, “Done?” he asked, when he heard the tear of toilet paper, instead of answering her question. Right away, at least. Sometimes, Josh had to properly think over his words - he hated putting his foot in his mouth, wanted to make sure he always said what he really meant. It felt important, even though more often than not, he still ended up saying the wrong thing and the wrong time, things he didn’t even mean. His brain got away from him at the best of times, “You think I’m pathetic, dontcha?” he finally landed on, making a joke of it instead, “You can just come outright and say it, I can take it,” Even though Joshua had intended on leaving it at that, Clem’s observation made him turn to her quickly. There wasn’t too much Josh actually did quickly, but conflicting liquids sloshed through his veins and Clem’s observation had his brain somewhat reeling, “What? Are you sure. Last I heard they broke up... Did you see them together? I feel like I’m the last to know everythin’,” he moved easily, when she pushed at his shoulder, at his usual sluggish pace. It even felt like the way he hopped up onto the counter beside the sink could’ve been in slow motion, “We’re fuckin’. All the time. People are fuckin’ all the time for no good reason. I could stare into your eyes for forever, too. I feel like people in love do more... serious things. Like, in love, things. Like... grocery shop together, or... charity work,” For as much as he pressed on about it, Joshua never actually felt too choked over Scout’s absolute lack of acknowledgement towards him. Clem had a good way of soothing whatever qualms he held about it, even when she was attempting to help - it wasn’t do or die so much as it was wanting to cling to a feeling Joshua figured would seldom come his way. No matter how many times he thought he’d gotten around it, the desire to evoke the same emotions Scout tugged out of him had he crawling back for more over and over again. Smiling at Clem’s compliment, Joshua nudged his foot forward to push it gently against her shin, his own way of saying thanks, “Cool recognizes cool,” he reasoned, shrugging as he all but Uno reversed Clem’s words and sent them her direction, “Dunno. I’ll, like, figure it out, I guess. Pretty content with wallowin’ right now, not like I have anythin’ else going on in my life. Barely have time to squeeze you in between my fits of cryin’ and my temper tantrums. Can’t cast my best girl to the side,” Hopping down again from the bathroom sink, he hip checked Clem as she finished up with washing her hands, “Unless you’re tryna get rid of me. Then I’d be, like, upset but understanding. Gotta find bigger and better horizons, probably,” Josh worried sometimes, that being around him when he got in one of his Scout Moods was a total bummer. That was the last thing in the entire world he’d wanna be known as. Clem always seemed fine with it, good about it every time it came up - sometimes he wasn’t self aware enough to know when to move on, but he made a conscious effort to skate around it now, “Feel like doin’a shot? I think the booze is metabolizin’ at the speed’a light, too much caffeine to work with, I’m stone cold sober.”

Send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

leo is such a physically touchy person it’s jst his ‘love language’ ig considering he’s jst not good w words n physical touch went hand in hand w how he garnered attention whether it . was good or bad bt either way its jst ingrained in him. n it shows w everyone he’s with he’s extremely upfront abt it to a point where it can b a bit much LKSDHKLSDHGLKSDG bt i think philly is the first person he like. took a deep breath fr n actually kept his cool........ told himself he had to relax sort of thing bc she ws like . the first person he viewed as waiting being worth it? which sounds bad its not like >_> hes never had good meaningful relationships LKSHDGKLHSKLDGHDS bt other times either ppl have been all gung ho n Ready for Action at all times like w lana n freya lov u ladies bt they’re super sexual ppl so there wasn’t like. a need to wait until they wanted to do anything he’s jst never rly done tht fr anyone....... cuz he’s never actually liked anyone the way he likes philly like it wld kill him a bit bt i think leo wld strap on a chastity belt fr the rest of his life if philly requested it...... its the first relationship he’s ever been involved in where he’s very satisfied and reassured with everything being mostly chaste cuz its the first time that it’s been abt more than jst sex and he’s wanted it to b abt more than that............

i think during the summer when philly travelled around the states with elektra and they never rly had much contact bc she broke her phone leo wld still send useless text msgs a lot, things tht absolutely did not need to b sent like a picture of a dog tht wld jst say ‘looked like u’ and wld call her phone a lot jst to hear the answering machine...... the amount of embarrassing drunk msgs on there r sm. theres one where on a particularly bad night he jst lied on the roof of a house party n called philly n was like ‘im not even good at math but i havent seen u in 52 days thats gross and sick and wrong. its the longest we’ve gone without seeing each other since we met.’ and one tht says ‘when u get to vegas let me kno, i’ll fly out there within five minutes and we can get married by the elvis guy there.’ even tho he knew she wldnt b able to call back..... i think there’d b at least one rly sad one tho........ probs the night after a fight w steve or something where he’d jst ramble fr a long time before randomly blurting ‘i kno it wldnt b like out of character if u didnt come back but i jst hope u need me as much as i need u and u do.’

i like to think sometimes they jst hv rly nice nights where they get high on shrooms n take a picnic blanket to an open field in the quad n jst stare at stars fr hours........ leo wld start making up facts abt stars and constellations n insistent there was at least 5 stars up there named philomena.... mostly bc he cldnt remember where he said the first one was n etc. it’d constantly change cuz he jst cld never keep track. he’d eventually actually name a star after her probs...... he’d b so proud of himself too LSDHGKLHSDLGKHLSDG it rly wld b a bit of a romantic gesture........ he’s pretty good at keeping quiet abt things if he needs to b bt he’d b excited to tell her bt wld wna wait until it’s a good time..... wld probs finally tell her during the next meteor shower tht happened n wld b all ‘i went onto that name a star site did u kno it doesnt even take long? this might be the smartest thing ive ever done’ even tho he 100% still has absolutely no clue which star it is when he gives her the receipt fr it

Send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

its not a secret tht leo is like. protective to a fault........ ppl have spat in his face before n he’s been like ‘awwww does baby need his bottle? 😋’ jst absolutely not taking anything srsly but the second tht they look wrong at someone he’s rly close to it’s on sight. before him n lana were even properly close he was fully ready to kill felix in the middle of campus in front of a giant crowd he truly has no chill when it comes to anger n needing to protect the ppl he loves. n i kno in his n lana’s earlier days when they first hooked up properly it was after being flirty at a bar n wht not n i jst imagine tht became like Their Place where they went to drink quite a lot...... n i jst picture near the end of their university life after leo probs dropped/flunked out n he went a bit unhinged someone probs wasnt even bad to lana one night just....... probs merely rolled his eyes just thought she was a chatter box bt leo caught it n went ballistic. knowing him it wasnt the first bar fight he got into there too..... probs his third tht year or something n now his pictures hung up behind the bar top under a giant ‘DO NOT SERVE’ sign..... he’d b pissed at himself fr getting banned from his fav bar n its his fav bc of lana bt knowing her she’d find them a better more fun place n pretend tht tht was where everything Started between them years ago......

even tho he usually sticks to bass n drums leo’s pretty musically inclined in a few areas tbh, he can play guitar and piano too due to Forced Lessons when he was younger n has a wee bit of a Voice on him. i jst imagine he loved to write half-assed goofy songs abt his friends and family n what not....... has probs even performed them from time to time as a joke at open mic nights at school or local cafe’s, n he’s def written A Lot of them abt lana. before they were dating, during, after, all just as bad as the last cuz bless his heart but he’s still a dumbass..... lyrics get as good as ‘thats my lana, wish i was her man-a’ even tho they were fully together at the time. got booed off stage once because he performed like 5 in a row and they all got more and more graphic, one of them went into specific detail abt their sex life n their fav sex position so hes probs banned from the cafe he used to perform those at too LKDHGLHSDLGKHSKLDGHSDG bt it was worth it..........

usually marj is the one thts rly keen on leo’s friends bt i think steve wld actually find lana a hoot............ marj wld still love her ofc bt. lana n steve’s humour is both so similar n they’re jst ridiculous. leo probs had to ask lana to come over a lot fr dinner maybe even more than after they broke up cuz steve wanted to make sure lana knew she was always welcome as if she wasn’t still best friends w leo maybe a mere week after they broke up..... sometimes he’ll show up at home after a shift n steve n lana r jst laughing to themselves in the kitchen n when leo asks abt it steve jst says . u had to b there. like he’s started some exclusive club w lana tht u have to fit the criteria to fit in for. LKSHDGKLHSDLGKHSDLGKSDG i kno thts not so much abt leo bt. it’d make him rly happy...... he’d sometimes dawdle after work jst so steve n lana can hang out a bit longer jst the two of them. steve’s a lot more interior w his emotions n leo’s always worried tht he doesnt hv a good outlet after finn passed so it wld jst b a nice reassurance....... n jst b nice seeing him so happy all the time again