come on down,

at the stage whisper, karens blinking a bit and snickering. “ no, sweetie. ” fond and exasperated, stage whisper returned easily in kind. “ it’s a real thing. a pretty flower for a pretty girl, you know, that kind of stuff. you’re prettier than the flower though, dont worry. ”

as they’re ushered out and car door held open for her, karen makes a show of accepting it herself. “ thanks, babe. ” a wink and a half curtsey aimed tricia’s way, before karens hurrying inside and buckling in because, well –they WERE running a little late because of her.

it wasn’t a long drive to the school, not really. they could’ve honestly walked there, karen walks home from school on the regular– but maybe that wouldnt be the best considering their outfits. as they near the school, she can’t help the weird almost anxiety bubbling in her stomach– it was just tricia, just a stupid school dance … why did she almost feel sick, underneath her excitement?

“ thanks again mrs tucker! ” karen chirps the second they’ve stopped, not really listening to lauras response as she gets out of the car and slams the door shut behind her.

show time, or whatever.

having never been to a school dance before, tricia would understandably be nervous or… something. though, she thinks, being nervous about a school dance is stupid. and so is the fact she could feel her face heating up at that wink back when she’d opened the door– it must be something about wearing a dress. there’s a reason she doesn’t tend to wear skirts or dresses. even had to go out of her way to buy this one new. this is probably just one of the reasons why.

when they reach the school and shout respective goodbyes, tricia loops her arm with karen before they can even get in the doors.

“if we don’t walk in like a royal pair, there’s no point. i’ll text filmore to let us in all dramatic and i bet he’d do it.”

she hasn't even set foot in the actual dance yet, but she can tell it's going to be way more interesting than it couldve been because tricia just happens to EXIST. " let's do this then. "

“ you’re always in super hot detective mode, ” blue eyes roll a bit, but smile never falters on red lips. ( she sees you flexing on your green nail polish, this is similar to that in the fact that karen refused to wear a shirt and skirt combo to homecoming and paid tribute to the red skirt and shoes in her makeup instead. )

poses made and done with, along with karen softly asking if laura could send them her way or take some with her phone because “ kenny wanted me to get some. ” and if she didnt do it NOW then WHEN would it actually happen? never.

“ jinkies ! you’re right, theres one more thing. ” trying not to snicker to herself at her kick ass, thank you very much, velma voice – karen pulls out a corsage, green mightve been better but purple would have to do. ike owed her one but she’s never the type to be picky.

“ its customary for the asker to get their date one of these,” voice conspiratory as she slips it onto tricia’s wrist, before lacing her fingers back with her best friends like it was nothing. “ NOW we can go. ”

The corsage was something Tricia hadn’t really taken notice of. if she ever watched a teenage prom-based romcom, it was always the one detail that would slip past without much care- after all, the big cliche was her walk down the stairs. the corsage thing didn’t really seem.. real. it seemed passive, like oh sometimes its a thing sometimes not. fictional, and underdone in fiction. 

so when the pretty flower is slipped onto her wrist, she can’t help but stare for a moment, lifting her gaze to look karen in the eyes, she drops her voice as laura tucker is collecting her keys to drive the girls, and stage whispers, “i thought this was a fake trend.”

as they're ushered out and car door held open for her, karen makes a show of accepting it herself. " thanks, babe. " a wink and a half curtsey aimed tricia's way, before karens hurrying inside and buckling in because, well --they WERE running a little late because of her.

it wasn't a long drive to the school, not really. they could've honestly walked there, karen walks home from school on the regular-- but maybe that wouldnt be the best considering their outfits. as they near the school, she can't help the weird almost anxiety bubbling in her stomach-- it was just tricia, just a stupid school dance ... why did she almost feel sick, underneath her excitement?

" thanks again mrs tucker! " karen chirps the second they've stopped, not really listening to lauras response as she gets out of the car and slams the door shut behind her.

“ thank you, mrs. tucker. ” karen answers the way shes supposed to, smiling back and idling on her phone for a few minutes while she waited for her best friend. she kept her half of the scooby doo bargain, too, wearing a plain orange dress and flats to match her new hair cut. if only she had glasses– but. alas.

the second that the music starts playing a slow grin is spreading over her face. she expected no less, after all, its ruby fucking tucker.

by the time tricias throwing the glitter karens hands are pressed against her mouth, trying to contain her reel of giggles and failing miserably. “ hey daph, ” she says oh so seriously after a moment, eyes shining in mirth as she takes in the other girl.

on impulse, she grabs tricias hand and squeezes it after, all but beaming at her. “ you look amazing! ”

tricia can’t help but let out a joyous laugh of her own- the whole scooby doo shebang was enough to bring her entertainment for the night, they could just solve a fake mystery tonight and be done with it. (maybe she could convince karen to go ‘mystery hunting’ at homecoming, since karen had convinced her to go at all)

she squeezes karens hand back, trying to flex on the green nail polish she’d chosen instead of wearing, like, a green collar or something weird. if she was going to be daphne blake she was going to go all out a la daphne blake, damnit.

“ so do you! we’re the ultimate mystery solving duo right now, look at us. nothing’s going to stop us. especially when we look like super hot detectives. “

it’s after that that laura approaches with the camera, begging the girls for a picture, and then another, and another- she’s crying a little bit at the fact her daughter is finally going to homecoming by the time she’s done, and tricia looks embarrassed, even if she may have had fun doing both serious and silly poses in their impromptu photoshoot.

poses made and done with, along with karen softly asking if laura could send them her way or take some with her phone because " kenny wanted me to get some. " and if she didnt do it NOW then WHEN would it actually happen? never.

" jinkies ! you're right, theres one more thing. " trying not to snicker to herself at her kick ass, thank you very much, velma voice -- karen pulls out a corsage, green mightve been better but purple would have to do. ike owed her one but she's never the type to be picky.

When Karen arrives at the Tucker’s house, the door is opened by Laura Tucker. A gentle smile on her face as she ushers Karen into the house with a compliment to her outfit, before calling up the stairs.

“Tricia baby! Your friend is here!” 

There’s a pause, a bit of shuffling can be heard- and then the sound of something connecting to the Alexa in the living room.

And then

the What’s New Scooby Doo theme song starts playing, blasting form the little machine, before Tricia appears at the top of the stairs. Donning a purple dress as promised, hair let down and slightly curled au Daphne Blake- even having gone as far as finding a thick purple headband to stick in in her hair.

She walks down the stairs with a clearly practiced straight face, though it cracks up towards the end as she plants herself in a dramatic pose, grinning and tossing green glitter up into the air as the song comes to it’s high energy end.

the second that the music starts playing a slow grin is spreading over her face. she expected no less, after all, its ruby fucking tucker.

by the time tricias throwing the glitter karens hands are pressed against her mouth, trying to contain her reel of giggles and failing miserably. " hey daph, " she says oh so seriously after a moment, eyes shining in mirth as she takes in the other girl.

I DONT LIKE THAT SO I THOUGHT U JUST RETCONNED IT

yeah thats fair i dont like kevin and karen sharing a room either tbh?

like. why. the oldest kid should get the alone bedroom ://

I DONT LIKE THAT SO I THOUGHT U JUST RETCONNED IT

yeah thats fair i dont like kevin and karen sharing a room either tbh?

like. why. the oldest kid should get the alone bedroom ://

“ oh fuck you, anderson. ” a response just as snappy and sharp, feeding into the already stiff tension in the closet. his voice turns mocking, beady eyes locking back onto filmore and full of absolute malice. “ at least i’m trying to do something to get us out of here-- i’m on a phone while we’re trapped in a closet, you DIPSHIT. what do you THINK i’m doing. ”

it’s then, of course, that said phone decides to die at 20 percent and take the extra light out of the room. great. “ or. what do you think i WAS doing. ” with a frustrated growl ( a bit dramatic himself, he guesses ) ike shoves the useless rectangle of disappointment into his pocket.

“ it’s not my fault no one was answering. ” this part said a bit more soft, almost not meant for filmore, but –so close together, he’d definitely hear it anyway.

filmore isn’t the only one who has other people he would rather be in the closet with. ike can think of a good solid handful, ANYONE better than this asshole, but ike can’t help but focus on one in particular. too bad that person was mad at him, fault of FILMORE himself as much as it was his stupid fucking fault they were in this situation. trisha was one of his best friends, she wouldn’t just shove ike in a closet if it wasn’t for captain dumbass over there.

ugh.

As the extra light disappears, leaving the two of them trapped in a closet full of darkness and repression with nothing but the little bit of light from outside leaking in, Filmore kicks the door in a frustration of his own.

Being trapped somewhere so small, and cluttered, and dark, and if he sits chances are their legs are going to be brushing against each other no matter what they do.. this is the timeline God abandoned. 

“Tucker probably got everybody you know in on it.” He doesn’t register the difference in tone, at least not at first. And it takes him a moment, where he lets that sentence hang in the air, that he processes there was a difference, and a the smallest pang of sympathy hits him. And then he pushes past it, turning so he can lean against the door he’d been beating up, staring straight ahead into dakness. Maybe at a broom, who knows.

" yeah, knowing her, probably. " he hates how that actually reassures him a little bit, despite the bite in the words. he was used to ignoring filmores insults and bite when they fought, and the idea everyone was IN on it instead of ignoring him was almost comforting. which pissed him off.

ike's head thumps back against the wall, arms crossing over his chest and exasperated sigh filling the room. " i don't know what the FUCK she thought she was doing. we'll what? work out our differences? not fucking likely. it's not like it's some deep seeded mystery that can be solved care bear style. we've never liked each other, even if i didn't hate you until ..."

ike catches himself, blinking a bit before scowl sets deeper on his face. " why the fuck am i even talking to you? " because the quiet made him antsy, itchy. he was used to constant stimulation, and all he had in here to entertain himself was a football player whose very existance set his teeth on edge. it was easy to want to pick a fight, for lack of a better thing to do.

“It’s fine, just ignore the girls having a heated debate in the front seat and the music, they think I’m taking a nap.”

Firkle spoke into the phone quietly, just loud enough to be heard as he tried his best to talk to Ike. He did miss him, after all. They were friends, best friends, and even if he was tired and angry, that didn’t change.

that was his best friend, after all. no matter all this ... weird stuff, lately.

Ike’s own phone? despite being in his possession, it wasn’t really doing anything good. the closet is dark except for the fluorescents flooding underneath the door and the soft glow from his screen. long fingers are tapping furiously from his position on the ground, tired of trying to call for help at this point ( it was most likely the reception fucking him over, honestly ) and instead just attempting to send a few aggravated texts tricias way.

beady black slits lift in time to see filmores tantrum begin, before they roll in exaggeration.

“ right, because that’s gonna work. we’re not gonna die in here dipshit, sit the fuck down. ” eyes fall back to his phone, unbothered mostly –the second shelia broflovski realizes her baby boy hasn’t made it home yet, she’ll be on a war path.

“ unless you WANT to keep throwing a diaper baby fit over it. you’re good at those. ”

okay, maybe he wasn’t THAT unbothered by it. it sucks to realize literally no one cares or notices if you’re missing, and he’s in here with … ugh.

He was being dramatic about it, yeah, the chances they would die in here were slim. (Although, with how dirty this school could get, who knew how often this closet was opened?) But he wasn’t going to let Ike Fucking Broflovski call him out on it. Besides, it was totally the Canadian’s fault that they were in this situation, so he had no right to act like such a little bitch and just sit there on his phone like this was nothing.

“Fuck off, Broflovski.” It’s snappy, sharp, and his gaze turns to the other boy as he speaks. 

“At least I’m trying to do something to get us out of here, while you fucking scroll tumblr or whatever.” His lip curls as soon as he’s done, glaring down at Ike as he stays by the door, way too close to each other but almost as far apart as the closet would allow them to be. If he was going to be forced to play seven minutes in heaven or whatever, why couldn’t it at least be with somebody cute like Flora Larsen?

it's then, of course, that said phone decides to die at 20 percent and take the extra light out of the room. great. " or. what do you think i WAS doing. " with a frustrated growl ( a bit dramatic himself, he guesses ) ike shoves the useless rectangle of disappointment into his pocket.

" it's not my fault no one was answering. " this part said a bit more soft, almost not meant for filmore, but --so close together, he'd definitely hear it anyway.

filmore isn't the only one who has other people he would rather be in the closet with. ike can think of a good solid handful, ANYONE better than this asshole, but ike can't help but focus on one in particular. too bad that person was mad at him, fault of FILMORE himself as much as it was his stupid fucking fault they were in this situation. trisha was one of his best friends, she wouldn't just shove ike in a closet if it wasn't for captain dumbass over there.

Filmore had a list.

- Get out of here

- Kick a girls ass, specifically Tricia Tuckers.

Because of course the little bastard couldn’t help  but to trap he and Ike Broflovski in the janitors closet for whatever bullshit reason. Yelling something about them needing to grow up or whatever (probably, he hadn’t listened,) before running off to do God knows what. 

It would be a little less terrible if his phone wasn’t still in the grasps of one of the teachers and he could text one of his friends to come aid his escape. But that wasn’t happening, so instead, he’s prepping up to ram against the door with all the strength he can muster in the tiny, cluttered space, aiming to ignore Broflovski’s presence entirely and get out before they’re forced to interact or something.

“I’m not dying in a nasty-ass Janitor’s Closet.”

Wham!

beady black slits lift in time to see filmores tantrum begin, before they roll in exaggeration.

" right, because that's gonna work. we're not gonna die in here dipshit, sit the fuck down. " eyes fall back to his phone, unbothered mostly --the second shelia broflovski realizes her baby boy hasn't made it home yet, she'll be on a war path.

" unless you WANT to keep throwing a diaper baby fit over it. you're good at those. "