A Little Spark...

Chapter 6

"Alright, get your bags out. I'm going to go pick up Techno from the airport. He just texted me and apparently, he took an early flight and should be landing in less than an hour," Dream mumbled. 

Bad, Ranboo, and you got your bags out from the trunk and back row seats and headed towards the house.

Sapnap and Dream stayed in the car and drove off as soon as you closed the trunk door.

a/n: i have no mind.

After about 30 minutes, the three of you were settled in.

"Soooooooo..." you said looking around. You were all sitting in the living room, awkwardly. "Pineapple on pizza?"

That broke all the tension in the room. All of you burst into laughter.

"The first thing you try to say to break the ice is to provide a debate topic?"Ranboo asked.

"Sure why not? Stir up some controversy while we just met in real life."

"So...we're kicking first impressions out the door?"

"Our first impression was horrid. You were like...your suit was wrinkly like an old man. I thought you were heading to some early prom or some formal event. A funeral maybe," you admitted.

"If it was a funeral, whose wold you think it'll be?" Ranboo asked.

"Yours."

Ranboo groaned in annoyance. "Bad, do you genuinely believe I am a fifty-nine-year-old bald emo grandpa who catfishes young teens on TikTok?"

Before Bad can even open his mouth to speak, you said, "He hesitated. He agrees with me."

"I have no clue what is even going on. A bald emo grandpa? What?" 

"So basically, Lyra's lying," Ranboo butted in before you could even say something.

"Lies. Ranboo is secretly a bald emo grandma."

"You called me a grandma now. Make up your mind on who I am," Ranboo pointed out.

"Both."

"The first thing I think about from the word emo is the hair," Bad deadpanned.

That sent Ranboo into a laughing fit, which wasn't good considering he had water in his mouth. "My funeral is literally Dream wearing cat ears playing the banjo to some song."

"What?"

"You forgot to mention how such a great funeral planner I am."

"I kept that out on purpose cause clearly you need more help."

"I probably do."

"Sorry Bad. We are doing a horrible job of filling you in," Ranboo said. "Basically, she bullied my hair for being emo."

"That I did," you interrupted.

"She tried naming the hair 'hairmo' but the name didn't stick. Then she found out 'emoboo' which is still horrible, and then I was considered emo. She then found my birthday, found she was younger, poof, I'm a fifty-nine-year-old emo grandpa."

"I'm so amazing. Technically though, I called Dream that before I called you that. But Ranboo seemed to fit the description even more considering the time I met him was went he had cut his hair and looked bald."

You reached up to fluff his hair. "You could dye your hair black. Fit the emo look. The change your wardrobe."

"My clothes give me personality."

"Personality of-" you gasped midsentence. "Like a man who's experienced mid-life crisis! Get rid of the hoodies, get some dad shorts and dad bod."

"So I'm a dad now?"

"You're so right. What do grandpas wear?"

"Jeans maybe? Cardigans, loafers," Bad listed.

"Some variety of color to make your clothes pop," you agreed.

"I'm not gonna be going to a fashion show. Stop obsessing over my fashion." Ranboo rolled his eyes. "Ranboo dot fashion," he quickly muttered.

"Imagine advertising to no one at all. Except maybe Bad. Did you tell him?"

"Tell me what?" Bad wondered.

"No. I barely told anyone. You're the only one of the few people I told Lyra."

"He's starting production of merch. Nothing really," you informed Bad.

"Nice!"

"Grandpa Mark-"

"Shut up. I have no grandchildren. I have no children either. Where can I even get grandchildren to call me a grandpa?"

"Aw, c'mon old man. You already have a natural wrinkle-frown. Frowning, even more, makes you look even older."

"For the millionth time, I am seventeen. Not fifty-nine, seventeen."

"No."

"You are also seventeen."

"I am seventeen. Not also."

"Bad is older than me."

"No he's not. He's in his young era, you in your grandpa era."

Ranboo sighed, not willing to argue once more. Bad looked amused, not sure if he should go or watch this go on.

"Siri," Ranboo began and continued when he heard the beep. "At what age can I change my name?" After a few seconds, Ranboo looked up with sadness.

"I have to suffer for more than a year? And I can only change my name due to," Ranboo trailed off. "changing gender identity, gender, being child's guardian... How do I be my own guardian?"

"You probably can. A guardian is someone taking care of a child who is not their parents. You're not your parents so potentially. But I don't know how the law works, especially by California," Bad pointed out.

"I need sleep," Ranboo whined.

"You slept ten hours what are you talking about," you asked in disbelief.

"About being sleepy." Ranboo started making a bunch of random sounds similar to "bloop".

"Alright. Come on old man. We need to start streaming to the Florida-truthers in our fanbase," You said, pushing yourself off the couch, extending an arm to help Ranboo up.

Ranboo gladly took your hand and ran up the stairs, skipping a few steps.

"Careful for your knees old man!" you shouted after him.

"How is he that happy to go scare his fans?" Bad asked.

"No clue. He's a psycho. See you later, Bad," you said, running up the stairs after Ranboo.

"Bye."

im feeling great
i found those hawaiian dad shirts, but its a suit

-editing cursir who's editing editing cursir