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darlingshane · 2 years ago

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Something Crazy

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: On Natalie's wedding day, life takes an unexpected turn when you learn that your former crush, Michael, might be interested in you.

Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Smut, P in V, Vanilla, Alcohol, Eating, Fluff, Crack, Pet Names, Kissing, Dancing.

Word Count: 4,6k

— You can read below or at AO3.

Today is the big day for your best friend Natalie. She's marrying her long-time boyfriend, Pete, and you've come back to Chicago for only two days to celebrate this lifetime milestone with them.

They've picked a perfect Saturday in the middle of spring to celebrate their union. Flowers are in full bloom, gardens are lush green, wind has calmed, welcoming a balmy weather to allow having a wedding ceremony outdoors.

Bright Sun rays slip like gold ribbons through the sheer fabric of the curtains as you carefully hang Natalie's gown and remove the garment bag. It's a simple but stunning empire dress, strapless, with lace and pearls adorning the corset. Though you've never fantasized about your own wedding before, as your hand slides softly along the skirt, you can't help but imagine yourself as a giddy bride, wearing that same dress.

Tying the knot is not on top of your list right now. Settling with someone? That's more likely to happen. But there's nothing like being chosen as the maid of honor, especially if you're single, to find yourself trapped in that Disney daydream of getting to meet your prince charming and live happily ever after. Hopefully, that unwelcome, sudden longing will vanish after a few drinks at the reception. Until then, your top priority is making sure your best friend's special day is as magical as she planned.

You're in the designated dressing room of the hotel with the rest of the bride's party laughing, sipping rosé, telling stories while the beautician works against the clock, getting all four of you primped and ready.

While you help Natalie get into her dress, Gigi comes back with a tray of pastries to soak the alcohol before anyone gets too drunk.

“You guys gotta see Mikey. He's so fucking hot I could die. I've never seen him all dressed up and clean like that,” she announces loudly, going around the room like a whirling handing croissants and muffins. “I swear to god his pants are so tight, it’s like looking into an x-ray photograph… you can see everything. And I mean everything,” Gigi stares at you, raising an eyebrow, while you stuff part of a croissant into your mouth.

“Ew, that's my brother,” Natalie frowns in disgust.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you say after swallowing part of your pastry.

“She's looking at you like that because, as we all recall, it was you who had a crush on him for the longest time,” the bride sharply indicates.

“She's got a point, babe.”

“I was like fifteen,” your tone pitches a little higher, as if you were still that age. “Why do you always have to bring that up?”

“Cause let's be honest, you were hung up on him for way longer than you said, and your face still lights up every time you see him. Why can't you just admit you're still love-struck?”

You open your mouth to counter her accusation, but words refuse to come out. You can't even lie for dear life cause admittedly, as fucking annoying as they are, they're also right. Michael was one of those crushes that was hard to shake off. Your friends quickly jumped from one infatuation to another, but you pinned for Sugar's cooler, slightly older brother for longer than you should have. And that's probably the reason every time all your friends get together, they use that embarrassing piece of information to tease you. Even if you ever wanted to forget, they'll never let you.

The last time you saw Michael in person was a few weeks ago for only a few minutes when you came to help Natalie with the last details of the wedding and barely exchanged a couple of words. You moved to Detroit for work three years ago, and the few times you've come back here, you haven't crossed paths with him that often. The soon-to-be married couple also forgo the rehearsal dinner altogether to save money, so you didn't get a chance to see him before the ceremony.

“All I'm saying is if you wanna take a stab at that, this is the perfect time. He's single, he has great hair, he's wearing a dope suit, and did I mention hot?” Gigi keeps cajoling. “Hell, I'll hit that, If you don't. So better act fast.”

“He always had great hair,” Samira agrees, downing the rest of her wine.

“And he asked about you the other day when I showed him the pics of our trip,” Sugar adds.

“Oh,” you try not to sound too pleased, cause you doubt he ever paid any attention to you. Why would he start now?

“Yeah, he was definitely checking you out, and loved that video of you at the karaoke bar,” Samira chimes in as she pours another glass.

“Okay, you're making that up. No more wine for you, missy,” you promptly snatch the bottle from your friend and put it away while they all laugh. “Wait… he saw the video of me singing?”

“Uh-hm.”

You file that information for later and once you are all dressed up, you hand Natalie a stunning bouquet of roses before leaving the room.

“Thanks,” she grabs your arm for a second as Gigi and Samira head out. “Sorry for making fun of you… again. You know we love you and that we just want the best for you.”

“I know,” you mumble timidly.

“Sweetie, you don't need my permission, but if you wanted to ask Michael out, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. He'd be lucky to have someone like you.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because… You've always been like a sister to me, and part of me wanted him to see how amazing you are, so I kept telling him about you. I showed him photos and videos, hoping that he would. And he did! He really loved that one of you vibing to TLC. Thought you were funny.”

“You told him, didn't you?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“I'd stab you if you weren't about to get married,” your serious tone makes her snort.

“Look, you’re not dating anyone. He’s not dating anyone… I could ask him if he's interested before Gigi swipes him up.”

“Nat,” you sigh into a heavy pause, looking into her clear blue eyes. “We’re not in school anymore, you don’t have to play matchmaker. And it's your day! The last thing on my mind is hooking up with someone. Let alone your brother. So drop it.”

“Just saying. It could really be a wedding present for me if you two were to…” you scowl at her, which makes her leave that thought unfinished.

“Okay, that's gross, let’s get you married, so I can kill you right after.”

“Alright, alright. I promise I won’t mention it again.”

In your lavender dress and matching heels, you wait for your cue as the wedding starts. The quartet starts playing. Once the officiant and the groom are in position, groomsmen, and bridesmaids walk down the aisle in pairs. You line up with the bridesmaids by the floral arch on the side of the bride in the lush garden and watch as Natalie walks down the aisle, escorted by both brothers, Carmen and Michael.

She looks radiant, but your stare darts slightly to your former crush. He’s dressed in a dark suit and royal blue shirt, no tie. His fluffy hair pushed back, shining under the sun like black licorice. His features are sharply defined as usual, but there's definitely a certain glow around him that makes him look more handsome than you remember.

Credit where credit's due, Gigi was right. They all were. He still manages to stir those intense feelings and butterflies in your stomach that you thought gone when your eyes meet for a split second as they get closer to the altar. There's also a glimpse of a smile in his lips, directed at you. Or so it looks like. Maybe you're making it up in the chaotic mess that is your mind.

Carmy and Michael kiss either side of Natalie's face when they reach the altar, and then they take their seats on the first row as she stands face to face with Pete.

The quartet stops playing, the officiant starts speaking, and you aim your focus to the ceremony.

Once Natalie and Pete are pronounced husband and wife, there's a time dedicated to take a few pictures of the wedding party in that very same garden before losing the natural light.

Despite promising she was going to let it go, your now-married friend insists on making sure you and Michael end up in several pictures together.

“Mmm… Marcus, is it?” you shake hands with him, pretending to have forgotten his name.

“Michael,” his grip is firm around your hand.

“Oh, sorry, Mario. I have a terrible memory.”

“Don't be cute. I know you remember,” he scoffs, amused, linking one arm around your waist per the photographer's instructions.

You swallow, nervously placing your hand on his firm back, trying to keep your cool. As the photographer takes a series of snapshots, Michael starts humming a familiar song. No scrubs. The one you sang in that famous video your friends filmed.

You press your lips together, and pretend you're not hearing it. It seems like they've all been scheming together against you, or in your favor. You're not sure. You know Sugar wouldn't do anything to make you uncomfortable, but this is getting ridiculous.

“Save me a dance later, would you?” he requests with a wink once the photoshoot session is over.

“I can't, Mitchell. I've already promised that to one of the groomsmen,” lie.

“You're gonna keep that bit the rest of the day?”

You shrug your shoulders, “it's not up to me, Marley.”

“Alright, come find me when you grow up.”

He presses his lips in a tight smile and walks away, leaving you dwelling in that awkwardness that washes over you, and wondering if he's messing with you or if he's suddenly into you. Those are good questions that you can't leave unanswered. If there's a chance that Michael Berzatto likes you, and that's a big IF, you really need to find out. The ball is in your court now. The question is… Do you want to throw it back?

The party moves to the banquet room in the hotel. There's plenty of food, drinks, music, and people in the room, but none of it can't distract you from the presence of Michael. This isn't how you expected to spend the day of your friend's wedding. And it's really going to bother you if you don't at least try to have a nice conversation with him. This is probably your last chance, so right after your heartfelt toast, you wipe your tears, throw back some liquid courage to walk up to his table.

He's nursing a glass of scotch, watching people on the dance floor, when you quietly take the empty chair besides him.

“No Richie today?” you break the ice.

“Oh, you remember his name but not mine?”

“Get over yourself, Michael. You know, I always got a little awkward when I was nervous. And unfortunately, it still happens.”

“Think you're doing pretty good right now.”

“Had a little help,” you tilt your glass in his direction.

“Well, I'm glad you decided to join me,” he nods and points at the bar where Richie is conversing animatedly with your friend Gigi. “I had to convince Sugar to invite him. Hope he behaves for my sake.”

“Oh no, you're a dead man. Nothing good is gonna come out of that.”

“How so?”

“They're both insane, divorced and desperate. That's a dangerous cocktail nobody wants to drink,” you point out.

“Yeah, you're right. I guess I didn't really think it through.”

“You're screwed, Berzatto,” you take a sip of your glass and turn your eyes from the bar to Michael. “You know I was just joshing earlier, right? It surprised me that you were so… Direct.”

“Men aren't usually direct with you?”

“No, I guess I haven’t been very lucky in that department… Or maybe I’m just a bitch with unreachable standards that scares away any potential suitors.”

“That would explain a lot.”

“Gee, thanks!”

“I’m kidding. I’m sure your standards are reasonable. And I don’t think you’re a bitch if that helps.”

“Yet you’re wondering why I came here alone?”

“Not really. I didn't bring a date, either.”

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“I dunno. Maybe I have really high standards, too,” he winks casually at you, knocking you out of your game.

You should have come prepared for this, but you never thought in a million years that Michael Berzatto would ever show any interest in you.

Still trying to figure out if you're picking up the right signals from him, you prop your elbows on the table and let out a sigh as he presses the rim of his glass to his mouth to take a swig.

You bite your lip and watch the guests swaying animatedly on the dance floor.

“So. Do you wanna dance?” he softly taps one of your arms.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Did your sister put you up to this?”

“Why would she?”

“Don't play dumb. I used to have the biggest crush on you, and if you didn't notice, I'm sure your Sugar has told you.”

His lips draw a lopsided smile. “She might have mentioned something a while ago, but she didn't put me up to this, I swear. This is all me. I only asked you for a dance. I didn't ask you to marry me.”

“I suppose a dance wouldn’t be that bad.”

“I'll take that,” he throws back the rest of his drink in one gulp, stands up, offering his hand up to you, “shall we?”

You were hoping to have some more time to prepare, but his sharp conviction is something you can’t reject. That’s part of Michael Berzatto’s appeal. He’s always been such a bold and outgoing guy, it's daunting. It’s good to see that hasn’t changed at all. The only thing that’s different is that now he’s wasting his charms on you.

With some apprehension, you follow his steps into the dance floor. There’s a mid-tempo song playing that you don’t recognize that makes you forget altogether how to move your body. So you just stand there, three feet away from him, like a deer caught in headlights, bobbing your head, avoiding his eyes.

Michael stares at you, slightly entertained by how uncomfortable you look right now, and throws you a lifeline by stepping closer, picking up your hands and placing them on his shoulders.

“What are you so afraid of, sweetheart?” he asks, planting his palms on your waist, guiding you slowly to move with him.

“I'm afraid that I'm not a very good dancer.”

“I doubt that.”

“Wait till I step on you,” you subconsciously look down at your feet.

“Follow my lead. You'll be fine.”

“Okay, Johnny Castle, but don't make me mambo, salsa, waltz… Or anything that requires taking my feet off the ground.”

“Who the hell is Johnny Castle?”

“Patrick Swayze? Dirty Dancing?” you question, as if it was the most outrageous thing that he hadn’t heard about that film.

“I’m more of a Road House kinda guy.” Of course, he is. “Was that another crush of yours?”

“Oh, big time!”

“Ok, got it, nothing fancy, we're just swaying. See?” His hands guide your body to move side to side, but it's impossible not to feel a little clumsy in your steps.

“Hey, what do you think of Pete?” He asks, using his head to point at the newly-weds.

“Uhh,” you glance to the side to see Pete wrapping an arm around Natalie, “he can be a total douche sometimes, but he's always sweet to her. I guess that's what matters. Why? What do you think about him?”

“Words out of my mouth.”

“Michael?” You glance up to his deep dark eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Be honest, why did you want to dance with me?”

“Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

Your lips pull up on the sides as your head nods.

“Cause I wanted to dance with the prettiest girl I've ever met.”

If this is a dream, you don't wanna wake up to find out that this was just a concoction of your mind. It's not. It feels real. If you weren't holding onto him, you'd fall to your knees after hearing his words roll past his beautiful lips.

There are so many questions you wanna ask, but you can only sigh, and smile wider under the sweet glow of his brown eyes fixed on you.

“You really think that I’m that pretty or interesting?” your mouth opens after a pregnant pause, at the same time the song switches to something incredibly romantic.

“I've always thought that. It just took me a while to realize it.”

“God, you have the perfect answer to everything. That's really annoying.”

“I don't. I swear. You just caught me in a good mood.”

“I don't remember you ever being in a bad mood.”

“I have my moments. Trust me.”

He unexpectedly picks one of your hands from his shoulder, lifts it in the air to have you spinning ungracefully under his elbow before quickly wrapping his opposite arm around your waist to dip you. He grins at the shocked expression on your face for a second before bringing your body upright.

“Please, don't do that again,” you brace your hands to his chest right after.

“Why? That was perfect, sweetheart,” he laughs, “Johnny Castle would be proud.”

Your lips curl softly, letting your palms tentatively slide on his blazer until they're caught on the warm surface of his neck.

“Am I making you nervous?” he dares to ask, knowing pretty much that he's driving you crazy.

“A little,” a lot, actually.

He whispers, – sorry – as you run your fingers at the hair at his nape. You observe up close how he licks his lips, noticing his hands clutching harder to your waist. His head leans closer, and you draw a breath, preparing yourself for having his lips colliding against yours. It feels like the world stops spinning for a second and just about when he's about to kiss you something, someone in this case, crashes against your back making you lose your balance. Michael anchors you to the floor quickly before you can fall, as a slurred-drunk voice apologizes at your back.

“Fucking idiot,” Michael mutters and checks on you, “you okay, sweetheart?”

You're not. The spell is broken, and your dress suddenly feels cold and wet from the drink that was spilled along your hip.

You excuse yourself, and rush out of the dance floor, so you can clean yourself up.

There’s a big surprise in the nearest bathroom you find, and that is your friend Gigi making out with Richie with such passion, they don't even notice you opening and quickly closing the door.

The tiny glimpse that you caught of Richie propping your friend on the sink and sliding his hands under her skirt makes your jaw almost fall to the floor. You wish you could erase that from your memory immediately, but at least it has made you forget momentarily about your dress.

When you turn around, you’re faced with Michael again. You ran out so fast you didn’t notice him following behind.

“What’s wrong?”

“Richie and Gigi,” smacking your lips, you point with your thumb to the door with no further explanation.

“Wow, they didn’t waste any time.”

“That's the thing about weddings. They make people do crazy things.”

“Tell me about it,” Michael looks down for a beat, licks his lips, and steps closer.

He holds your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up. As he leans to capture your mouth, you flinch, “what are you doing?”

“Something crazy,” the corners of his mouth quirk up, making another move, and you jerk your face a second time in reflex. It’s not that you don't wanna kiss him, you absolutely do. You just need another moment to process it.

“Damn, girl. Can you just stay still, so I can kiss you already?” He demands without an ounce of entitlement. Just driven by the desire to taste your lips.

“Alright, okay… just give me a second,” you yield to his craving, letting him slowly guide you, so your back is pressed against the wall.

There’s no escape now, this is the moment you’ve dreamed with many moons ago that seemed like a pipe dream back then. All those thoughts vanish the moment his lips are pressed against yours firmly, before letting them bounce a couple of times together. His alcohol-tainted breath mixes with yours as his lips part wider. He captures your lower lip with a light suck, followed by the tip of his tongue shamelessly drawing the curve of your mouth. It's deliciously sexy and sweet and everything in between. You close your eyes and follow his lead, opening your mouth and letting him slot his lips against yours. His tongue invades past your teeth without resistance. It challenges you to kiss him back. It takes you a moment to respond, but soon enough, you're fully immersed in the depth of his mouth, taking the reins of the kiss.

You haven't been kissed like this in a while. Maybe ever.

When your mouths separate, you realize your hands are anchored to his back, and he's fully pressed against you. His lips are covered in your saliva and vice versa.

“I'm going to change my dress,” you sigh, giving him a little push, so you can put yourself together.

“Oh… Okay,” there's a hint of disappointment in his tone.

You clear your throat and harness an ounce of confidence to ask, “do you wanna come? I might need some help. The zipper is a little tricky in this thing.”

Right.

His expression turns on a dime, eyes wide open, white edge teeth showing behind his slightly parted lips. Speechless by the implication of your proposal, he cleans his lips on his palm before responding, “I… sure.”

Proud of yourself for taking a gamble and hitting the jackpot, you go back inside the banquet hall first to collect your purse from the table and then head up to the elevators with him following closely behind.

A palm lands at the small of your back while you press the button. The anticipation makes your stomach flutter wilder than ever. Who would have thought you'd be taking Michael to your room on this day? It feels surreal. Absolutely bananas.

You don't say a word during the elevator ride up to the fourth floor.

When you reach your door, you notice his palms framing your hips from behind. His touch makes your pulse tremble while using the key card. It takes you a couple of tries to open the door.

There's a strange force, an electricity buzzing, that grows more powerful the second you're inside.

You hit the light switch, drop your purse on the chair and turn to face him.

Following that unstoppable whim, you place your palms on his chest and push back his blazer. He shrugs it off as you move to undo the few buttons he's fastened. Your fingers tremor anxiously as you uncover his defined torso. You want to stick out your tongue and trace those two lines forming a V oh his abdomen that leads to the outline of his cock behind the tight fabric of his dress slacks. It’s too bold of a move for you right now, so you let your fingers do your bidding.

When your hands reach his belt, they proceed to unbuckle it under the lust-filled shadow of that flame of his gaze that could scorch the surface of the earth if he wanted to in a second.

He’s already half hard when you unzip his fly, and that's as far as he allows you to go. Michael's dying to touch you, to undress you and fuck you. He quickly turns you around, making you gasp, and finds the zipper of your dress. Your skin rises into goosebumps when he pulls the tab down. He nibbles at the crook of your neck, pushing the top of your dress down to your waist. You shimmy your legs out of it as his hands invite themselves to your skin.

His all hands and mouth around you as he removes your strapless bra and guides you to lay down on the bed.

The fire that lights up his eyes sears through yours as he slips out of his unbuttoned shirt. He then props a knee on the bed, hovering over you, and lowers his head to kiss your stomach. His tongue darts out and draws a circle around your navel. Your head falls back on the mattress, as he leaves a trail of wet kisses up your torso. He nibbles once more at your neck, increasing your arousal up to eleven.

“Michael, please,” you groan as he presses himself between your legs, grinding slowly behind layers of fabric, coaxing your juices to stain your underwear and growing himself a hard-rock erection that can barely be held by his boxers.

Lifting lifts his head, he props himself on his elbows, and surveys the tortured expression on your face as his hips keep relentlessly moving.

“Fuck, you're goddamn gorgeous, baby,” he exhales, proceeding to swiftly rid you off your panties, and pushing his pants and underwear down.

He drives his hardness inside you with great care, pushing inch after inch of that monumental erection that stretches your slicked walls. You close your eyes as he experiments with his thrusting, molding your opening to its generous size.

“Is this how you imagined this?” he pants against the corner of your mouth.

“No. This is better… Much, much better,” you purr, palming his ass, encouraging him to move faster.

If you had a free hand, you'd pinch yourself to check if this is really happening right now. It still blows your mind thinking that Michael Berzatto is deeply buried inside you, wanting you, claiming every cell of your body for his enjoyment. You gladly surrender to his desires as the cadence of his hips drive you into madness. As much as you try to contain your moans, he does everything in his hand to force every moan, curse, and breath to fly out past your teeth.

He slams into you with passion, bites your skin, grips your tits, devours your mouth, setting every inch ablaze. It’s as mind-blowing as it is fast, but he earns himself a good squeeze of your walls when he brings you to orgasm. He comes undone just merely a second after, releasing a wild grunt that ripples all over your skin, and pouring all his warm seed into the depths of your pussy, having his hips jerking erratically until he’s spilled every drop.

His cum sticks to your walls as he rolls to the side of the mattress with a grunt. Your head is spinning out of its usual axis, overtaken by that powerful boost of endorphins, and your lungs struggle for a deep breath.

For a long minute, you both stare at the ceiling while you regain your breath.

When he composes himself, he turns to the side to look at you, sweetly letting one of his fingers brush your cheek, “do you wanna do this again tomorrow?”

“Can't. I'm leaving, remember?”

“Right.”

“But you can stay the night if you want. And repeat later. And maybe one more time even later. Would you like that?”

“I'd love to, sweetheart.”

#michael berzatto x reader #michael berzatto #the bear #the bear fanfiction #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal smut #darlingwrites #smut #fluff

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97keanu · 8 months ago

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Digital Angel

Premise: You're a hacker living in 1999 Chicago. The bustling city has been lonely, save for a few friends you've made at the local goth club. You fuel your lifestyle by hacking important classified information for criminals, but lately your usual clients haven't been coming around. Turns out, some hacker named "Neo" has been stealing your clients. You decide to get to the bottom of this by hacking him back...

Tags: slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, loser!neo, perv!neo, virgin!neo, prematrix au, hacker!reader, goth!reader, bdsm elements, age gap 23/35, eventual smut, stalking, cyber stalking, masturbation, neo is a naughty panty sniffer, he's literally such a pervvy stalker in this idk what to say, themes of loneliness and longing, neo and reader are each others mirrors, two sides of the same coin, fated to be together, red string of fate, last two romantics in the city, yadda yadda.

Words: 12.4k

A/N: This is the revised edition of Digital Angels first 3 chapters. Fully edited, added some new content/context, and Chapter 4 will be out tomorrow! (If you wished to be tagged in it, please add yourself to my taglist, and select Neo!) Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed this fic, I hope to do it justice in the coming chapters.

Read chapter 4 here!

꒰˵ˊplaylistˋ˵꒱

You sit in your bedroom, basking in your computer’s green glow. It’s been a hot summer, the night air doing little to cool Chicago down, and the window and fan set up you have running do little to help. You should be sleeping but something has been bothering you lately, keeping you up well past midnight.

Your typical clients, who come to you for illegal information that you’ve hacked from the government, haven’t been contacting you. In fact, you’re getting more small-time stuff than ever. Fake ID requests, fake official reports for god knows what, and the last straw was today, when you were asked if you could illegally pirate a DVD for some teen.

“Really? Back to burned DVDS?” You had thought to yourself. It was almost laughable if it wasn’t for the fact that without the bigger time jobs your rent wasn’t getting paid. And there was no way you were going to get a real corporate job like the rest of the early 20 somethings your age.

You had asked your closest client over IM earlier tonight. And what he gave back to you, was a name.

[Neo]

The screen read back to you, as if taunting you with the existence of him. Such a little name for the big pain in your ass he’s been.

Well…if this “Neo” guy was taking all your clientele, then you were going to look into him. You worked too hard for your hacker prestige to be brought back down to pirating softcore porn for any local sleaze ball. No…you were going to find this guy and confront him.

So, that’s why you’ve been working tirelessly these past four hours, hunting down any trace of “Neo” online. You haven’t found much yet, but you can feel yourself getting closer. The more false leads you eliminate, the more the real one will stick out when you see it. You rub your eyes until you see inky little stars and after you pull up your long black hair into a ponytail so that it’s off your neck in this heat. That’s one thing you hated about summer the most. The heat. It left you little black options to wear, and that made most of your wardrobe unbearable. Right now, you were stuck with a black tank top, foregoing wearing pants, just to survive.

You take a moment to gaze out your small apartment window, to get away from the glow of the computers for a second. The Chicago skyline greets you as you open up the window enough to straddle a leg out of it. The night air helps, and a cool breeze blows on your sweaty skin. You need this. Just a moment to yourself before you get back to it. You pull out a cigarette and light up the end with a faint red glow.

As you gaze out, you see other little apartments in the area. Your apartment is high enough up that you have a great view of all the dazzling lights of the city. One perk of the shithole you live in.

You sigh out a puff of smoke, and think of all the tiny white flecks of windows. Some of the closer ones you can see their insides better. You can see from here a kitchen window of an older couple making dinner, someone’s living room with a blue gash of flickering images passing by. Your eye catches on an apartment somewhat like your own, a green glow with their own computers, the owner sleeping softly at their desk. You wonder where all their lives will go when you look away. Do they cease to exist because your gaze does not fall upon them…?

No, you logically know it doesn’t work like that, but it sure does feel like it. You don’t think you’ve known a true friend that you’ve kept up with in years. Just you and your computers…

You finish your cigarette break, and find your way back inside your bedroom, popping Wish by The Cure into your walkman, ready to plug back in and search for the fucker stealing all your jobs.

It’s a few hours still till you find it, but there it is, a sloppy job this ‘Neo’ must have done at some point. He left behind some evidence and here you are finding it like a fingerprint at a crime scene. His IP address was left behind. Now it’s time to have some fun…

You begin to run your own home grown line of code. It's not intricate, a bit unstable, but it will do. You get access to a lot of his computer files, but most importantly the IM app he uses to message. You’re also surprised to find a photo of him as you're searching around. Or what you assume is his face. It looks like a photo taken for a work I.D. An all white background, center and staring at the camera with slightly dead eyes lead you to believe that.

You can’t help it, but when you see him, you think he looks sort of cute. A part of you curdles at the thought of finding the enemy cute, but it's the truth. He has big brown puppy dog eyes which you’ve always been a sucker for, and surprisingly soft features despite sporting a set of high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. His black hair is also a plus, it looks somewhat neat for the photo, but he doesn’t look like the type of man who is too appearance focused. Lucky him, to have such genes to get away with it, you suppose. There’s just something about his eyes that really makes your heartbeat quicken, something about the touch of loneliness there, even though he has the kind of face that was made to be loved. You catch yourself blushing and force your mind to stay on task.

You get back to working with your program. If this works correctly it would give you an in to talk to him. You can use this program to help you hack right into Neo’s friend list and send him an IM. You grab a coke from your mini fridge and get to work, the cool, bubbly liquid waking you up enough to finish the task.

Finally, after what seems like ages, you’re in. You send Neo a message, leaving your typical dorky screen name on. It's not your real name anyways so it doesn’t matter.

[NightShade]: I hear you’ve been stealing all my clients, Neo…

You think for a moment, wondering what exactly you should say first, but this seems good as anything. You’re worried because he was so hard to find, he might just ignore or block you. Doesn’t hurt to try, so you press send and lean back in your chair, somewhat proud of the night you’ve had.

As you wait, you begin to think the other hacker is likely asleep. You sigh, sleep coming to claim your eyes just as well, so you decide to get up and take a shower. It’ll help with how hot it is too, you determine with a nod of self assurance as you hop up out of your chair.

You are attending to a bit of self care in the cool shower, when you hear a ping! You don’t think you’ve ever scrambled out of there so fast.

You attempt not to slip on the titles as you rush out, and find yourself padding with wet hair to the computer chair in nothing but a black towel. You feel too nervous to look, what if he doesn’t want to talk to you? You did come on strong with your first message, accusing him of stealing your clients and all…

[Neo]: Who are you? How did you message me?

The computer reads as you sit, and contemplate how to respond. It is a strange predicament in general, you suppose, but you’re not backing down now. You pause and consider how to reply, but a part of your heart beats with happiness that he responded at all.

[NightShade]: You’re not the only hacker in town you know, and word is that most of my return customers have been coming to you lately.

You sit back and bite your lip, you know you’re confronting him and all, but really, what is the end goal…is it just to say you tried? Is it to win him over? Beg him to stay out of your side of the business…you’re not sure. You feel this strange pull to him regardless.

[Neo]: So, in retaliation you’ve taken it upon yourself to contact me and complain?

He’s right, maybe this whole thing is childish. Maybe you’re childish, despite being 23 and trying to make it as a big time hacker like the rest of them. You can’t help but respond as the late night anxiety whittles on…

[NightShade]: Well, if I could find you within the night, who’s to say the government couldn’t? Why don’t we create something here that helps us both…

You’re not even sure what you’re getting at, but you don’t want him to log off. You watch, waiting for him to type again…

[Neo]: And what would you suggest?

“Shit…” You mumble to yourself and find your hand is nervously rubbing at your thin eyebrow hair. You’ve been trying to quit that, but nervous ticks are hard to kick.

“Alright, we gotta be smart here. If we propose something stupid he’s going to realize I’m just a young, dumb girl who knows a bit of hacking. Nothing special…” You often find yourself out loud, there’s no one better to talk to at your disposal so might as well.

You consider your options. Should you ask him to divide up turf? Divide up clients? You highly doubt that would impress or please him. No, but maybe you could offer something else…

You begin working on the computer, and checking Neo’s connection. He was terribly hard to find for those few hours but honestly, it wouldn’t take the government long to find him if you could. Not to mention, as you look, he has all sorts of back doors to controlling his computer. You browse a few files and find yourself nodding and smirking as you see a folder full of goth girl porn. Seems he has type…you aren’t sure if it helps or hurts that you dress similar to the cyber girls in his computer.

Ultimately, he might be good at getting the info for the clients, but he is shoddy at best at keeping his own ass covered. You get back to the IM window and type…

[NightShade]: I know you must obviously be good at getting info for clients, or else they wouldn’t leave me to come to you. However, you don’t keep yourself safe enough out here. Like I said, I found you in a few hours. And I can clearly see into your files you have hidden right now, such as some extremely saucy pictures of girls in black leather. Imagine what other information I could find with some time. I can help you fix that…If you’re willing.

You hit send and feel a chill run down your back despite the heat. Will he be receptive? You have no idea. Maybe you shouldn’t have mentioned finding his porn folder so easily.

Quite a few minutes passed before you heard a response, and you were starting to believe he was surely considering blocking you. That sweet sound of your computer pinging pulls you out of your thoughts.

[Neo]: So…you found my weakness…and you propose to help. What’s in it for you?

“Yes!” You think, feeling like pumping the air. “He didn’t say no!”

[NightShade]: We stop splitting clients, we work on the hacks together and I keep your ass from ending up being tracked down again. Divide the profits accordingly.

This time, you get no response. In fact, you sit at your computer for another hour before dragging your tired body to your tiny, disheveled bed. You leave your computer on, awaiting the signature ping just in case. As you lie in bed, you turn so you can see outside the large window beside your dark enclave of a mattress that holds you. As you gaze out at the city once more, you can’t help but feel drawn to that other apartment. Its green glow blinks every so often, as if the previously sleeping stranger was stirring before the window. Pacing, perhaps like your mind does as you drift off.

———

Thomas Anderson, better known as 'Neo’ to the underbelly of the cyber world, is half drooling on his desk when he hears that persistent ping! of his computer. Groggy and tired he opens his eyes, the green glow of his computer the only source of light in his tiny dark room. As his eyes adjust, he lets his pale hands rub sleep from his eyes just to solidify that he’s awoken. A light layer of sweat glistens from the computer light, and tries to wipe some of that too, not that it helps.

He groans a little as he pulls up the nagging chat window that’s blinking for attention. Probably some client that wants this or that, ASAP as always with these people.

His sharp brows furrow as he sees a name he doesn’t recognize.

“NightShade?” He talks aloud to himself, only his ears around to hear anyways in his little apartment.

He is surprised this person was able to get onto his friend list, he thought he ran a pretty tight ship over here, but maybe the extra shifts at his day job were making him sloppy. He finds himself sitting in a bit of disbelief before responding to their claim of “client stealing” as they put it.

“I mean, who does this person think they are?” He scoffs into the dark, humid night air. His sweaty fingers tap along a response questioning who the identity of this 'NightShade’ character is. He’s surprised when they respond almost immediately, claiming to be a fellow hacker.

“Sure…” He rolls his eyes to no one as he takes the situation in. “Probably some petty kid mad that their clients found a real hacker for their needs.”

He reaches over and pulls a cigarette out of a discarded box on his messy desk. He pops it loosely into his mouth, mostly for the comfort of having it there at the moment. He’s not ready to light up, just yet.

The other hacker responds, supposedly finding Neo’s IP and computer just within a few hours. He’ll double that for their sake, not really believing his rig is THAT easily infiltrated. But they do make a good point…if he is seeing this message at all, who’s to say who else could get in?

Neo is intrigued to say the least, he wipes his sweaty palms on his dark sweatpants and responds, asking what the other party has in mind then.

“This should be interesting…” His voice is husky with sleep and an overall tiredness that seems to permeate his entirety.

The other hacker takes a moment to respond, so Neo rolls his desk chair to the nearby window. He cracks it and lights his cigarette finally, looking out to the cityscape.

He watches a plane lazily draw across the sky like a star blinking in and out of existence, and he wonders how despite his business of being a hacker having been so perfectly solitary he has found himself seemingly intrigued by this supposed other hacker. He never really complained that he had essentially no social life. He was destined to be like this, the way he saw it. No one at work took much interest in him, they saw him as a nerdy lackey programmer and was all. Not someone to take out for drinks after work. Not someone to strike up conversation with in the break room. It was like they knew he was different, and stayed away because of it. He had little luck with making friends in his hacking ‘community’, if you could even call it that. Neo was pretty certain he would die alone, and that feeling had been present for so long, it had started to comfort him. Until tonight, that is.

His eyes drift across the city apartments, and he doesn’t notice his pause on another green glowing apartment across the way at first. He lets a long drag of smoke billow out the window as he focuses on it more.

From here he can see a tiny form of a girl, and he actually blushes as he realizes they’re in nothing but a towel. He hasn’t seen a real life woman in such a vulnerable state in a while. He takes another drag as he sighs out the smoke to the thought that he’s been more than a while…

He doesn’t take his eyes away though, he knows he’s safe looking at this distance anyways, so he watches as the young woman is seemingly typing on her own computer. It's not uncommon as a pass time anymore, more and more people are starting to use this new 'internet’ thing, after all.

Still, he wonders for a moment how she feels. Is she as lonely as he is in his tiny room, typing, typing away all night long. Does she like the people she types to? Neo rarely does.

He starts to imagine what kind of life a pretty girl like her must have. Probably messaging her abundance of friends for what they’re going to do this weekend. Likely in university, staying in a shitty apartment until she graduates and moves on to bigger and better things. Neo watches as the towel slips further as she’s more invested in her screen, unknowingly to her that her every move is being watched. Her soft shoulders and collarbones stick out the most to him, the subtle way they move when she types, her dripping black hair falling on them in delicate swirls.

The excitement of seeing this unknowing stranger in such a vulnerable state, a state he’s sure no one else gets to see, draws Neo in.

He watches her until he hears another ping, tearing his eyes away and stubbing out the cigarette on the window sill. Neo has to practically tear his eyes away from her to see his computer screen.

He rotates back to his computer to see the other hacker's message, and laughs out loud at the fact that they seemingly found his porn folder. It's less unnerving than the other party probably thinks, it's likely they believe Neo to be had in this scenario. In a strange turn of events, he’s finding himself feeling a rush over the whole thing, with a twinge of nerves since they do after all, seem to be able to see into his whole system here.

It's a strange feeling for him, he hasn’t felt so naked in such a way for so long. Hypocritic, even after his look into his neighbors apartment. It's as if someone has walked into his room while he was undressing, but instead of fear, he feels a rush of endorphins. It's almost voyeuristic, and he has to laugh at that thought too.

“Alright, so they can see into my computer,” he speaks, as his mind begins to race, considering all the possibilities here. He might as well see what they have in mind to do about this, so he responds.

He is utterly surprised at their proposal for teamwork, however. Somehow this makes him recoil. The thought of working with another in such a way makes him nervous. He has been alone in this for as long as he can remember…

He bites his lip as he considers how much they’ve seen of him so far. It's only fair that he can take a look as well…

Neo disregards the other hackers message for now and immediately goes to work. Since they’ve been messaging him and all, it's pretty easy for him to work his way into finding their computer. The hard part is getting in. It actually takes him much longer than he expects and when he does get in, it's the tip of the iceberg. In fact, he’s utterly surprised that all he can find at first is normie information like what movies this guy watches and some music tastes. He ends up down the rabbit hole for a few hours before he sees something that freezes him.

A profile picture for an online goth community. He can only assume it's the other hacker, and what he knows now is that NightShade is a woman, an exceptionally attractive woman at that.

He can’t explain it, but seeing her image has struck him. Something about her is absolutely engrossing. He finds himself leaning closer to the screen, until he can pick out the pixels beginning to form. His heart skips a beat or two as he realizes he’s enamored…

He pulls back, looks away.

“Get a hold of yourself, it's just some girl, you could see another on the street whenever you want.” He speaks in a whisper as he leaves his chair and begins to pace his tiny room.

Why? Why is knowing she’s a beautiful woman, who’s exactly his type, complicating this? Is he really that touch starved that he’s like some highschool boy after seeing his crush in the hallway. No, he’s a 35 year old man here, he shouldn’t be having these strange feelings.

And with this surge of emotion out of him plus his penance for working alone, he can’t seem to find a way of a team effort working out between them. He starts a few times from pacing to go back to his desk and reply that he is uninterested, but he can’t seem to finish the task.

Neo finds himself sitting on this thought all night and more, your face left in a browser on his computer…

———

It’s been a week since you messaged Neo, and after the first day or so, your heart felt heavy. You know it really isn’t that deep, but the rejection took a hit on you. You started agreeing to CD burns and mixtapes on the fourth day, you feel so down and strapped for cash. You actively seek out reasons to leave your room because it beats sitting around waiting for a reply that won’t come, as well as all the lack of work you’ve been having.

Tonight, you drag home some Chinese take out, walking up the steps of your apartment building as if your legs are made of sludge. By the time you throw yourself into your apartment, you can barely muster the energy to eat. You store most of the food away for tomorrow, but keep the crab rangoons, since those don’t heat up very well, after all.

You set up at your desk, working on getting ahold of some test answers for some highschooler when it happens. The noise startles you enough that the crab rangoon hanging out of your mouth hits your desk. You quickly change tabs and can’t even stop yourself from looking immediately.

[Neo]: I’m in. But I think we should meet in person to go over this.

You have no idea if you should fake that you’ve seen it, or reply straight away. You know that he might think you were waiting on him this whole time if you reply too fast, so you force yourself to finish eating while you sit and stare at the green glow of the screen with a fervor to reply.

Just when you think you can’t finish the last bite fast enough, you thrust your greasy fingers to the keys.

[NightShade]: Alright, but I say when and where.

You’re so much cooler through the computer, he has no idea that you’re over here gushing because you know he’s cute and likes to hack too. It’s ridiculous, you find yourself ridiculing inwards.

[Neo]: Deal, your choice.

You think for a moment, in disbelief that he really means it. You decide to point him to the local goth club you frequent, Club Hel. You are a member there, so you have a private booth you two can talk in. You let him know where to go and who to ask for. You decide, fuck it, tomorrow can’t come soon enough so might as well do it then. You go over the details and the two of you are seemingly on the same page. You stop replying this time first to get the upper hand, even though you’re pretty sure the concept is childish in nature.

It’s been a long day so you plop on a Deftones tee and hop into bed. Strangely enough, your dreams are filled with soft brown eyes and computer code…

———

Neo hates to admit it, but he left your picture up on his computer for the rest of the night. At first, your ghostly pixelated image made him feel strange, to say the least. Accompanying the fact that you were essentially proposing to watch over him, to make sure he didn't leave any back doors open when hacking, Neo began to sleep, images of you as his guardian angel finding their way into his fleeting thoughts of restless sleep.

When he awoke late the next day, he was sweating once again. The hot Chicago summer was droning on, the early season when it's just deciding to heat up was long gone and replaced with humid, sweltering days. Neo could hardly stand it, and opted for a shower, his body sticking to his clothes as he took them off and tossed them on the bathroom floor.

As the cool water hit his body, he began to think of you again. He imagined your pretty little face, you had to be younger than him, that much was obvious. Your dark hair, pitch black as your clothes and makeup. Under the stream of the shower head, Neo found himself imagining you in ways he would feel guilty about afterwards.

He imagines you, in the shower with him, your hands gently cascading down his body, coming to rest right before his hard cock. You look up at him, your makeup starting to fall from the water, and your lipstick leaving rings on his cock when you start sucking him off. Neo practically groans out from the thought, his hand keeping pace on his own cock while he imagines that it's your mouth inside, soft, wet, and warm. He can only imagine what it would be like for you to encompass his cock with your perfect, cute mouth. Fuck. He can barely keep himself from cumming right now, the idea is so sexy.

What really gets him over the edge is imagining taking your hair in his hands and gripping it enough that you cry out, and when you do he's pumping his cock into your mouth harder than before. His muscles tense in the shower, even just the thought of being so aggressive with you igniting every muscle in his body. You, who thinks you had the upper hand after finding his porn stash, who was bold enough to hack into his computer without his knowledge. He continues to think of you choking on his cock, maybe even pulling you off for air, and you begging for more while your goth makeup is dripping down your cheeks. Oh God…He's going to cum.

Neo finishes in his shower, his husky groans escaping finally, and his back finding the cool tile of the shower wall for support.

"Fuck…" He whispers out to the lonely shower walls, a bit of clarity coming to him as he realizes with embarrassment just how lonely he has been.

That along with this trance you've put him in leave him feeling totally guilty. He's just some 30 year old loser who has a kink for chicks in black makeup, he really should be able to control himself. Meeting you shouldn't have any ulterior motives of lust, but he can't hardly stop himself.

He gets out of the shower and tries to wipe off shame with a fluffy white towel, frustrated that his body doesn't feel any less hot than before, but it's not the summer heat that's getting to him anymore. No, it's you. And he has to be able to contain himself tonight when he meets you at the…what was it again? Some goth club from what he researched last night, no surprise there.

God, Neo's afraid he won't be able to help himself from popping a boner when he finally sees you in person. If your profile picture has this much of a hold on him, then he's worried what will happen when he really gets to meet you. Maybe he'll get lucky, and it'll turn out you're actually a total catfish, and some other lonely loser like him. At least then he can laugh in your face and leave. Go back to his typical solitary existence.

A part of him aches at the thought all the while. If it's not what you actually look like, the fact that he just jerked off to you is all the more shameful. And, as much as he doesn't wish to admit, he would be highly disappointed.

Neo finishes up redressing, opening the window to his apartment to let some air in. He looks back out and sees the same little apartment he saw the last intriguing girl in. She's in there now, and from the looks of it, he thinks she's…trying on different clothes? He can barely see what she's wearing from here, but he can definitely tell when her body is bare of anything, becoming all one color besides a splash of dark hair. Just the idea of making out this unknowing neighbor's curves and ass has Neo hard again. He really is a pervert, huh?

He can hardly tear his eyes away, and the only reason he isn't throwing his left hand into his pants again is he knows that he likely won't be able to finish after doing it again so soon. He's almost jealous that he didn't get to sit here, staring out his window at the unsuspecting woman, freely looking at her in such a vulnerable state, pleasuring himself. Instead, he was imagining a girl who might not even really exist all by himself in the shower. He has a secret hope that maybe some other time, he'll catch the siren across the way undressing yet again.

For now, he turns from the window and begins to psyche himself up for meeting you tonight.

——

It's late, but it's the time you asked to see Neo. Everything works better under the mask of night. You can imagine more. A fairytale can become real under the night sky if told to the right person. You hope you actually get to work with this Neo guy. You know that your work has been so little lately, so this would really help you out. But you also know that you've dreamed of Neo all this morning, the image of his striking brown eyes drifting through your mind. The worst part was that some of those dreams were less than innocent in nature. The most vivid is seeing his eyes look up at you from between your thighs…

No, you don't need to think of that right now. He's late and could be escorted to your booth any minute. You currently sit in the red velvet lined booth, large dark curtains enclosing it, making it a safe zone for a meeting. You spent a chunk of the afternoon, worrying about what you would wear, dressing and undressing for well over an hour. You finally decided on a sleeveless dress, its top corseted, embellished with fancy black and purple lace. You chose a short black mini skirt to go along with it, and of course one of your favorite pairs of platform chunky heels. You fit in well with the rest of the clubgoers of Club Hel. You wonder how Neo will feel, seeing you are so much like his dirty little hidden porn folder. That shouldn't matter, this should be a business deal, but it does matter. Somehow, you know in your heart, and your occasionally aching pussy, that you want Neo to want you. It would be so satisfying to know that this nerdy hacker is thirsting after you. Plus it would be less embarrassing that you want him…

Just as you think he's not coming, black manicured nails playing with some drink named 'bloody' this or ‘batty’ that, the heavy curtain is pulled back. The familiar face of one of the usual workers dips in, checking that the person beside him is who you want at your table.

It's him.

You're breath catches, and you're surprised. As soon as you see him it feels as if something inside you is pulled to his very energy. He has on a long, black trench coat. Black clothes underneath that you can't see very well. His hair looks darker, actually, it's gelled back you notice. He isn't someone who looks as goth as the rest of the patrons here, but he doesn't stand out either. You're really taken back by how sexy he is, not like the computer dork you thought he would turn out to be.

From the look on his face, he's surprised to see you too. You wonder if he can feel the magnetic connection, it's like every move he makes is on a wire that you can feel the trembles reverberating through. You can see his dark eyes looking over your body, he even pauses on your breasts, which are accentuated by the low cut and tight corset. You can feel heat rising to you cheeks even though you curse yourself internally for it. You open your glossy. black lipsticked mouth to speak, but he beats you to it.

"NightShade, I presume?" His voice is more masculine than you thought it would be.

You're stunned for a second by him, and realize how childish it makes you seem that you're just staring at him. You also realize you never told him your real name, so you begin to blabber it out, before he stops you.

"We better stick to our code names. As you know, I go by Neo." He says and sits across from you at the booth.

You feel stupid for blurting half of your real name out like that, and know he's right. It's dangerous to even be meeting in person like this. A tiny voice in your head is disappointed you couldn't be known by him as your true self. Not just an alter ego…

"You're right, I'm sorry. NightShade it is." You say with a nervous nod. Neo is so hard to read.

Besides the initial surprise when he first walked in, he now seems as expressionless as a statue. Adding all the more allure to your already dirty mind about him.

"Well, it's good to finally meet you." Neo responds, and for some reason, you get the oddest feeling from the way his eyes look at you.

It's as if he's trying to communicate something wordlessly straight to your soul. You can't tell if it's want that fuels it, or something else, but from the way he looked over your body earlier, you wonder if he liked what he saw.

"You as well. Have you thought any more about what I had proposed?" You gently lift your cocktail to your lips, and softly sip the blood red liquid, your lipstick leaving an imprint on your straw. You wonder what your kisses would look like trailing up Neo's pale neck…

"Yes, I have. And as much as it pains me to say it," Neo says with a chuckle, the way he talks and his age advantage over you seems like he's in much more control here than you are.

Somehow the idea of him dominating this conversation turns you on, you glance at his large hands on the table, and wonder what those hands would look like on your body, especially around your pretty little throat. You're distracted from what he's saying, he says something stronger in tone and you snap back to those endless seas of black that are his eyes right now.

"I think it would be advantageous for us to work together. It's clearly not safe for me to continue to work alone if I can't keep my own ass covered. I'd like it if you could help with that." Despite Neo's words clearly asking for your help, you didn't feel as if you were the one with any power here. Somehow, you feel like the fly who's wandered into the spider's web. The question now is how far will you dip your little legs into it, dear fly?

"I…would very much like that." You say, your voice feeling small, hoping you're heard over the loud club music downstairs. "I would like to split the profits however…"

You add the last part, taking some great confidence that you only seem to find when you're talking online. Neo laughs a little and you worry he is unimpressed by you worrying about money.

"That will be no issue, I don't mind paying you for your…services…" When he says that last word, those dark eyes trail over your body once more, and you can't help but wonder the implications of what he's saying. "I think we could really start to corner this part of town for black market information…"

Something about Neo's attitude puts a chill up your spine, and a heat between your thighs. You can't help yourself, the thought of going back to your apartment after this, alone once more, is too much for you to bear. You want to be acquainted with Neo, the little voice in your head knows you've tossed the thought of something more around a few times in just this conversation. There's something dangerous about Neo, you can't tell what it is about him, but it makes you want to uncover it, find out what his code is hiding, so to say.

"I have to agree. How do you want to go about this? We can work mainly from our own stations, or…?" You begin, trying to drive your thoughts to stay on topic, work out the kinks of this budding relationship between you two.

"I think that will happen for some of the time, but I'm still going to need to give you physical copies of some of the files, and I don't trust much besides meeting up to exchange those hand to hand." Neo seems to have thought over this enough, he's also very cautious. His reserved, quiet, and dark demeanor is so hard for you to understand. If he was as cool as he seems right now, shouldn't he be able to handle himself? It's interesting to you that he needs help from someone ten years younger like you.

"That…makes sense." You nod along. "Maybe a weekly coffee date is in store…?" You say nonchalantly, not realizing you've used the word 'date'. Neo's eyes light up with something, was that a hint of desperation? It's as if you've looked past this cool exterior of a mask he has on and glimpsed into the want that he's hiding.

So it's not just you who feels this pull?

"A date…?" Neo's voice has lost the suaveness from before, now husky with need. You wonder briefly when the last time he had a date was based on this. Is he really, secretly the computer nerd you envisioned him to be? His cold and calculated behavior is slipping.

"Why…?" Your voice comes out slyly, you can't help yourself. "Would you like that?"

You tease him, your brattiness coming out, your dark makeup giving you a more sinister glance his way, you always felt more confident wearing it.

"N-No…" He starts, clearing his throat and glancing away.

There's the dork inside of him.

"I mean, we should definitely have meetings, yes. I just don't want the wrong idea…"

He says the last sentence softly, almost as if he doesn't want you to hear, or perhaps mention it. But you're suddenly in a mood, the little fly who likes to fight back.

"The wrong idea about what?" You lean over the table with a grin, your breasts pressing out of your top as you do so. Of course, Neo's eyes flash there and he is obviously kicking himself for it. "Has something transpired within you that I don't know about, Neo?"

You can't believe how bold you're being, but the way he's now clearly squirming from your questions makes you feel more in control at the moment.

"Nothing, but an interest in…" Neo drags his eyes away from your chest and continues. "In working together."

You laugh a little, but back off.

"Alright, well. Why don't you inform me on what you're working on now?" You smile, eager to begin working with this fascinating man. You feel more alive than you have in a long time, your suffocating bedroom being much of your world lately. This is exciting, and the pull you feel for Neo is undeniable. You wonder if he feels the same. Maybe you could come up with something mutually beneficial, besides working together.

"Well, currently I have some local gang members who want info from rivals who have been using an online chatroom to communicate." Neo seems relieved to get back to work talk, the stoic, quiet side of him settling back in.

"That's not very smart of the rival gang…" You mention, but nod for him to continue.

"It's not, no. But I think they have a resident coder because the chatrooms are locked up pretty tight. I wonder if any of them are secretly government…but who knows." Neo is being very kind to share this information, he must trust you enough right now to let you in, as well as coming to a commitment to your partnership. You almost bite your lip with glee over that revelation, but stop yourself.

"Interesting, I should probably work alongside you to keep you covered then. If any of them are undercovers, we don't want them noticing us in the process." Neo seems impressed by your words.

"Exactly. You're uh, pretty good at this for your age." He comments, acknowledging your age differences with caution.

"Yeah, I've been doing this for a while, and was taught by some pretty good hackers…" You shrug, as if it's no big deal. You want to be mature for him, even though 23 is plenty old, you feel quite immature half the time, hence your bratty behavior. Neo seems a bit skeptical.

"Sure…well. I hope you can do a good job of watching over me while I do the rest of the hacking. I've never had a…I don't know what to call it, an assistant?" He says trying to find the right word for you.

"Hey! I am not going to be your assistant!" You reject the notion, a bit childish of you despite your previous worry of maturity.

"Alright, alright…" Neo chuckles, raising those big hands in defeat. "What should I say instead? Colleague? Partner? Guardian Angel who looks after me?"

He jokes about the last one, but something inside you kind of likes the ring of that. You laugh along with him, you two are getting comfortable, and you notice he's leaned over the table towards you as well.

"We'll work on that one…" You say, looking into his eyes, his eyes searching yours just the same. The flash of the idea of closing the foot of space between you two and trying those soft looking lips floats by in your mind. You can just imagine what he would look like when you're done, his lips smudged with your lipstick. You can't help but want to mark your territory.

The two of you continue to discuss the details, both of you surprising the other with how much tech knowledge you both possess. Somehow, you feel as if he just gets you, it's so strange. You have felt so lonely this summer, it feels as if a fire has been ignited in you, bringing you back to life, your body buzzing. You don't know if it's the liquor you've had, which hasn't been that much really, but you feel like you could get addicted to Neo's energy. He's just so interesting.

When he asks to walk you home, you don't even think twice.

———

The night has brought rain while the two of you were in Club Hel, and Neo's mind is racing. He's absolutely obsessed with you. He couldn't take his eyes off you all night, even though he tried to act aloof and maybe even use his maturity to seem as if he has control over the situation. But the truth is, you could have him wrapped around your finger in no time.

Neo's aware of this, but the lonely loser inside him is so desperate for this connection. He feels as if he needs you. If he loses you, scares you off, that would crush him at this point. If he thought he was in trouble just from seeing your picture, coming and seeing your real life form has absolutely blown his mind. He has no idea how he scored talking to someone as sexy as you, but knows he can't screw up and show you how much of a nerdy perv he actually is. He's so glad the table hid how hard he was for you, and when you two stand up so he can show you home, he keeps his trench coat closed tight.

He quickly helps you into a cab, the rain just beginning, but by the time you're both inside the hot backseat of the cab, you're drenched. God, he can't believe how gorgeous you look with your black hair soaking wet, he watches the city lights glint off your now slippery breasts. He really can't believe you wore something so promiscuous to your first meeting with him.

He wonders if you want him as much as he wants you, but he almost can't let himself believe it. He wouldn't be able to live from another let down like that. He is pretty old to still be a virgin, one of his biggest secrets, and the fact that he's barely talked to girls, let alone never really had a girlfriend doesn't help. He's always felt like such a freak, and the stuff he's into, hobbies like hacking, kinks, or otherwise, have never been something women have been interested in.

But you?

Here you are, this gothic beauty who has the same passion as him. It's too good to be true. He can barely speak to you. He's so wrapped up in his own thoughts and nervous in the cab.

He wishes this were a real date, that taking you home meant he got to follow behind you. His thoughts tumble into going into your bedroom with you, pinning you to the bed, and him finally having his way with you. He's been picturing it all night. He wants you to moan out his name, tell him how much you want him, and take as much of his cock as physically possible.

God, he can't even hardly look at you right now his thoughts are so dirty.

"She probably thinks I'm such a huge freak I can't believe I haven't run her off yet." He finds himself thinking.

Neo wishes he could find a balance between this desperate horniess he feels for you, and being a normal man who has very good intentions with you. He can't help it, he's already lost to the thought of you tied up and willing. He can just picture his hands moving all over your body, tightening the rope where need be. He bets you even want the rope to be black.

"We're almost here…" Your angelic voice whispers to him. He's snapped out of his daydream, and he realizes the two of you are super close to his apartment. For a moment he worries he gave the driver the wrong address, but no, there you are, stepping out and leading him to your apartment.

Neo lets you take his hand, and run through the rain towards your apartment building. It's as if an electrical current is running between where you two meet, hands touching skin to skin, a need so bad that Neo wonders if he can control himself. The urge to pull you to him and smash his lips against yours, uncaring from the rain, is strong enough he has to stop himself. When you two finally get inside the building, you're shivering, your little bit of clothing soaked and not offering much heat.

"Here…" Neo says, taking his trench coat off, the leather allowing most of the water to glide off, the inside dry and warm.

"Oh! Thank you…" Your soft voice says, and Neo feels so good to be able to help you like this. When you turn to go up the stairs, Neo adjusts his cock in his pants, now that the trench coat is gone, he doesn't want you to see his hardness. He hopes you don't notice as he places it against his waistband.

The two of you walk up the stairs to your apartment, and Neo is almost angry with you that he can see up your skirt, spotting red lacy panties on your ample ass. Fuck. He has to keep it together, but it's so hard to keep his brain from fogging over with lustful thoughts of you. You two haven't even discussed anything romantic, he can't be acting like this, besides how much younger you are, you probably aren't interested, and, and…

Neo doesn't even notice you two are at your apartment before you're opening the door and turning to him. He feels entirely caught off guard by your big, innocent eyes looking up at him.

"Well, would you like to come in and dry off? I have a spare umbrella you can use when you go…?" The way you're speaking and looking at him right now, he could just grab you and push you inside, taking as much of your flesh in his mouth as possible. Besides the fact, that there's no fucking way you really invited him in.

"I-Yeah…I would like that." Neo finds his voice. It would be nice, his hair is soaking wet, now dark and in his face, the gel no longer keeping it as slicked back as he would like. He doesn't like feeling so disheveled, so out of control.

"Good, come in. You can sit on the couch…" You say to him, pointing out the couch and bouncing off to the bathroom to get a towel.

Neo sits as told, and takes in your apartment. It's small, has more rooms than his however, and the decor matches your style, a bit toned down in the living room and kitchen, but as he leans over he realizes can see into your bedroom from the couch.

He leans a bit more, and realizes he can see something else too. His cock aches when he notices that he's looking into the bathroom, the door isn't shut fully and he can see your form moving about in there. It looks like you are taking care of yourself first, stripping down from the skimpy goth outfit you had on.

Neo clutches the side of the couch, his breath stuck in his chest as he sees those lacey red panties, and now gets a glimpse of the matching bra as well. He wonders if you wore those on purpose for tonight, or if that's how you always dress.

Soon, he knows he absolutely should look away as your back is now bare, your bra slipping down your shoulders, from this angle not revealing anything quite yet. Neo can't help himself, his hand is pressed to his cock over his pants, just tiny bits of well placed pressure exciting him even more. He knows he can't look, this isn't right, he isn't supposed to see this, but god, he could cum in his pants right now if he keeps staring.

You continue to undress, your bare ass now facing Neo, your panties on the floor of the bathroom, you kick them towards a pile of clothes in the corner. Neo is totally entranced by you, rubbing on himself more and more, getting off on the fact that he shouldn't be looking, the forbidden intrigue becoming an obsession for him. He's so fucked.

He jumps when you begin to turn, and scrambles when you come out of the bathroom and into your bedroom naked. He moves back to his original position on the couch like his life depends on it, his heart beating hard. He tries to adjust to seem nonchalant when you eventually come back out, this time sporting a Bauhaus band T-shirt that's way too big for you, along with a pair of black sporty shorts. He isn't sure if this is hotter than seeing you naked to be honest, your hair is still wet, and your make up has been washed off. He feels as if he should only see this version of you if you only allowed him to be that intimate with you.

You toss him a towel and point into the bedroom.

"The bathrooms in there if you need to use it." You say with a smile, coming to sit on the couch yourself now. Neo nods and quickly stands, trying to hide his hot and hard cock. This might be his chance to help himself out, though the guilt of that is already starting as he thinks it.

He goes to the bathroom, and makes sure the door is shut. He can't let you see this. His pants are down before he can do anything else. His cock is freed, and the night air sticks to it. Fuck, he's so hard for you.

Neo is stroking himself off in your tiny little bathroom, trying to cover his mouth from heavy breathing. He's so scared you'll hear him or he'll take too much time and be suspicious. Honestly the nerves are making it hard to get off, then he sees something laying on the floor and groans.

He snatches your discarded red panties, not even questioning the morals of pressing them against his face and getting a smell of you. God, you smell so fucking sweet and musky, Neo could scream. He imagines fucking you like no other right now. He wants you against this bathroom counter, looking at your own reflection, watching yourself desperately need his cock.

He thinks about tying your hands behind your back, and pressing your face into the counter as he gets forceful with your tiny body. He's so much bigger than you by comparison, height alone gives him all the advantage he needs over keeping you in place and fuckable. He would easily be able to get what he wants from you.

The smell of your pussy on your panties is making his head spin, he keeps using his hand, harder and harder, getting to climax thinking about shooting off a load inside of you. He aims for your sink as he finishes, his disgusting actions leaving a mess there. Once again, fuck…

Neo has to just lean against the wall for a moment to catch his breath. This is the second time he's jerked off to thinking of you. God, he's such a loser. He briefly wonders if he made a mistake, if he goes back out there and by some miracle you actually brought him up here to fuck him, did he just both metaphorically and physically blow it? No, there's no way.

Neo shamefully cleans up after himself. He even makes sure to rinse his hands and the sink with soap, it wouldn't be fair to leave any evidence.

As he finishes up, and actually starts to dry himself off like he was supposed to, he sees the panties where he had set them next to the sink. He doesn't have time to think twice, he has been in here too long, so he swipes them and puts them into his pants pocket as deep as they can go. He hopes you don't notice them missing, my god, does he hope. He composes himself, then finds the confidence to stride back out there and look at you after what he's done.

You're lounging on the couch, flipping through channels on a tiny CRTV. You stop on a late night black and white horror movie. As Neo comes back out, he thinks he sees Bella Lugosi coming to seduce his female victim, and he can't help but chuckle.

"I didn't know you liked the classics." Neo says, your attention turning to him. If he just focuses on teasing you, then maybe he won't have to think about what he just did.

"Of course, Dracula is the best." You say with a smirk, as if he's the dumb one for suggesting anything else. "He's just so powerful and mysterious…"

"Powerful and mysterious, huh?" Neo responds, still standing by the couch, unsure if he's invited to join you.

"Why don't you come sit and see? It's still raining down pretty hard, maybe you should stay until it lets up…?" Neo can't believe his luck, but now he is really worried he came too soon in the bathroom. He slowly sits down next to you, hoping there isn’t some sign of what he just did in the bathroom stuck to him that he didn’t catch before.

"Alright, I'll stay for a bit," Neo tries to sound like this isn't his wildest dream right now.

The two of you continue to watch the movie as the rain gets worse outside. And somewhere between that and now, Neo realizes he may have just had that date with you anyways. His typically heavy heart feels like skyrocketing when at some point you move and lay your head into his shoulder.

The small movement shouldn't have him this flustered, but it does. The rain makes whatever perfume you're wearing smell so much better. It smells powdery with vanilla, musk, and fresh cotton mixing with the earthy scent of rain. Neo takes a deep inhale, nose tilted over your pitch black hair, and hopes you don't notice.

Eventually, the night wanes on, the storm still gently raging and the movie playing out. Somewhere amongst all of that, Neo finds his eyelids getting heavier. His body relaxes as you snuggle closer, and he can tell you are close to sleeping too. He feels like he absolutely should not fall asleep, this is so strange to him, he has never felt this sort of intimacy before. But he somehow feels so safe right now to do so, and it's not like he really has the willpower to deny you.

He lets you snuggle half into his lap, and finds himself falling into a peaceful, dreamless sleep…

———

A hot breeze flows in through your apartment window, and for a moment you wonder if this heatwave will ever break. August is droning on, not ready just yet to give out a final death rattle. Instead, it grips Chicago tightly in a humid warmth that has been suffocating, clouds threatening to rain but never delivering. You lie almost naked, save for a pair of black panties, amongst your bat themed bedding, a plushie here and there, staring up at the ceiling fan and wishing it brought you any salvation in your time of need.

It doesn't help that you are also thinking about Neo. More specifically, the last time you really saw each other. You thought maybe something more than an alliance between two hackers could have been budding when he fell asleep on your couch, but in the morning you awoke to only the scattered couch pillows on the floor.

He didn't even contact you for a week. Eventually, you heard that awaited notification noise, but it was disappointing to say the least. Neo had messaged you, but it was simply to ask if you could help with making sure he was good to hack into this or that, you really hardly cared for what the details were. The anger and hurt inside of you from being asked to be his digital guardian angel after how he treated you could rival the August heat outside.

Still, you complied. You had thought about telling him to go fuck himself, that you no longer wished to interact ever again, but what good would that do? It's not like either of you ever agreed to something more than a work based relationship. And what makes it worse is that deep down, you know how lonely the world has begun to feel. Even now, as you roll over in sweat drenched sheets, looking out to the skyline that stretches ever farther and farther, you know that despite all the inhabitants of this city, you have never felt more alone.

That fact alone was enough for you to do what Neo had asked, wanting to still be in contact with someone who may understand. Although he had ran from you, hidden away and obviously too frightened to ask to meet up again, you think the reason for all of that may be that Neo is lonely too. You have no evidence for this of course, but you could almost sense it from him. It’s something that burns low, almost burning out, inside both of you, seemed to speak without words when you met. And now all you can do is try to get your mind off it.

Tired of the thoughts running through your head, you huff, sitting up quickly and disgruntled with how much you've been lying about lately. You make the great task of getting out of bed and find yourself before your floor length mirror in your bedroom. What you see makes you frown.

Your hair is a mess, after having not washed it for a few days, your makeup is still on from last night. The black eye shadow and mascara have moved, now cascading down your cheeks in smudges. You look at your usually well kept nails, now riddled with chipped black nail polish from you don't remember when. You can't let it get to you like this any longer. You head for the shower, hoping to both cool off the summer heat, and the heat that this Neo situation has gotten you into.

———

The small fan at Neo's desk moves side to shuttering side, attempting in vain to keep the small room and it's only occupant cooled. Neo sits at his desk, head in one hand, eyes fatigued and tired, trying to fix the script for one of his latest codes.

He's been throwing himself into his work to forget about you. He hates that he got so worked up over you, that he was such a loser to even steal a pair of your panties upon his first time at your apartment. There was no way you deserved someone like him. Not to mention, that you should probably find someone around your own age, not someone like Neo, who at best is a shut-in who can't socialize, and at worst, well, to keep the depression at bay he might as well not say.

To keep this relationship between the two of you professional, he has spent the last two weeks since you two met attempting only to contact you for jobs. It was what was right, the older, more adult thing to do, instead of pursuing a young 20-something goth girl like you because he has a kink for black lipstick.

Still, he had a hard time keeping himself from you. He can hardly even admit it to himself, but he's been hacking your webcam. He starts by telling himself that he just needs to check up on you, especially when you leave his messages on read for hours, although he knows he deserves that after how he disappeared. It's innocent really, he will tell himself, that you need to be checked up on, that it's only to turn on the camera for a second to make sure nothing happened. It is, after all, dangerous work you two do.

Then, it somehow turns to leaving the camera on, letting your image sit beside him on one of the many computers at his desk. It's nice having you there, so close to your computer. You're probably working on the codes he sends you, or perhaps messaging friends, he hears a voice somewhere deep inside tell him to check out those messages as well, but he hasn't brought himself to that quite yet. No, you're simply a video on his screen, almost like watching a movie, or having someone in a cafe sitting next to him, quietly working on their own thing.

He even finds that he likes the music you play, he can't help but be interested to find out more about you in this way. He wishes he could ask you which Siouxie and The Banshee's songs are your favorite off the album, or if you had to choose, would you pick The Smiths or The Cure. It's these little questions about you that plague his mind all day when he watches you. Sure, he could simply ask you these things, but that would be both suspicious as well as violating the self appointed rule of making this a work only relationship.

The worst of it is when he can see you getting ready to leave. You still have a life outside of this. You go to Club Hel, you meet with countless other creatures of the night, and you enjoy yourself. Neo almost hates to see you putting on your goth garb for the day because that means you must be going somewhere, somewhere away from the green light of the screen where he can see you.

Neo sighs out, the heat and these thoughts getting to his head. His fist curls in his short black hair for a moment before he stands from his desk and stalks away quickly. He told himself he wouldn't watch you today, he would lay off that sort of thing, but the need to know is eating at him, and you make it so easy for him, having nothing to block his attempts to hack your webcam. If he were the adult he seems to think he is, then he would simply stop, or better yet tell you to up your cyber security.

But no, deep down, Neo knows. He knows he's weak for you. He knows he's looked through all the photos you've taken of yourself on your computer to post to this or that goth forum. He's looking at them, entranced by how bold you are, wearing only a black lacy bra in some photos with a Vivienne Westwood orb hanging between your breasts. In other's you show off your big platform Demonia's, and Neo wishes he could have you here, stepping on him with those chunky boots and telling him how pathetic he is that he has stooped so low as to cyber stalk you.

As his mind continues down its own rabbit hole with you in tow, he finds himself sitting back down at his desk. He's been a good boy today, not watching you at all yet, and it's late. So he deserves a little taste, right? Just a peek to make sure you're okay, to see what you're up to.

Before any sort of morality can plague him, his long, thin fingers are typing away, pausing only briefly to take a sip of black coffee. He keeps the drink on hand always, his desk littered with a few spare mugs, the insides of which are dry and have brown stains from where coffee used to inhabit. He continues to work around your security, until finally the screen blazes to life, showing the image of your room.

He doesn't see you in there, and for a moment a twinge of panic sets in. Are you out somewhere? You hardly left the house. Where would you even be? Probably somewhere old losers like him don't frequent, like the club. His mind burned at the idea that you could, very possibly, be out with someone else. There was no real reason for Neo assuming this, no. But the worry filled his gut right next to the lukewarm coffee, and he felt his hand tighten around the mouse.

His eyes scanned the screen for what felt like ages, before finally, your bathroom door opened, and he saw you step out in a black towel. Your long black hair is wet, leaving droplets on your shoulders. Your face is bare of your usual make up, and that, for some reason, feels more invasive for a moment to Neo than even the possibility of seeing you naked soon. In fact, his face heats up as the thought finally crosses his mind that there is no scenario in which to continue watching right now would be good, or morally right, in any such way.

There is also no world in which Neo does take his eyes away. He is glued to your pixels on the screen, and he even leans in to see better as you drop your towel on to your bedroom floor. He can see every inch of your body, so much more than what he saw in your private pictures or when he caught a glance of you through the bathroom door. No, this was enough that his cock was now struggling against his pants, which feel much too tight right now.

He is so immersed in watching your after shower routine that his hand moves on its own, opening his desk drawer and finding his current most prized possession. He finds the panties he had stolen from you when last you met, and can't help but press them against his clean shaven face, inhaling your scent while he watches you.

Soon enough, you're laying on your bed, air drying from the heat, your naked form exciting Neo through the screen. What he doesn't expect is that your own hand would snake up to your breast, your other beginning to play between your legs. Good God…Neo had never caught you playing with yourself in such a way since he started watching you. If he thought he was addicted before, it has nothing on what this does for him.

As if feeling commanded by your own touching, Neo quickly undoes his belt with a frantic and needy hand, stumbling as he does from how filled with want he is. He keeps your panties pressed firmly against his face, taking that sweet scent in while he watches you open your legs wider. He lets out a whiny breath as he finally releases his cock, his hand giving no foreplay to what he wants. He hates how much power you have over him, even if it's through a screen and that vast distance of ever flowing information. Somehow, Neo has managed to find himself entranced by you, as if you were some digital siren, beckoning him to keep watching as you dip your fingers into your cunt.

Neo's breath hitches as he continues to watch you feel yourself, and he can only imagine what it would be like to actually fill you up with his cock. If he was there, would your mouth part, opening to moan out his name? He wonders how warm you would feel around his cock, and the thought of being able to actually fuck you sends him closer to the edge.

Neo watches as you continue, your moans now loud enough that your computer microphone catches it. Neo can hear your soft, whiny moans in his headphones as you get closer, not knowing at all that he's watching you through your webcam. He has no idea that you're thinking of him as much as he is you. Not yet at least.

As you get closer, Neo's name falls from your lips in a soft whimper. Neo can hardly believe his ears, did you really just moan out his name?

It's confirmed once more as your pleading gets more frantic, as if moaning his name in such a way could will him through the computer screen and there to fuck you into your bed. You have no idea that that's what Neo wants more than anything. He stuffs his face with your stolen panties and continues to imagine parting your legs even further, his cock thrusting in and out of you instead of his own hand.

It's not until your legs shake, moving and tightening together as his name shudders from your desperate voice that Neo let's himself cum. No, he had to see that you in that moment, that ecstasy. That's what he wanted to give to you, what he imagined he had done, to make you such a mess on your own bedsheets. That's what was driving him wild right now as he finally finds his peak of pleasure.

As Neo finishes, he leans back in his chair, the little fan on his desk not doing much to cool the sweat on his skin. Neo has to find a way to catch his breath, his eyes droopy and unable to focus on much. He can still see your shape, vaguely, as you also seem exhausted in your bed so far away.

Fuck. He really was fucked, huh? There was no way he was going to be able to keep this relationship professional. Not with him stalking you, and how badly he wants you.

He can't even think of the implications right now, instead he crawls into bed, shutting off almost all of his computer screens. He leaves yours on, the green light cascading on his face. He watches you curl up on your dark bed sheets, naked and too hot for covers.

Neo falls asleep tonight to you and the sound of rain beginning to tap against his window.

-----

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 Read chapter 4 here! Be added to Neo’s taglist here! ୨୧ૄ ࣪˖

#neo x reader #thomas anderson x reader #neo x goth!reader #neo x hacker!reader #matrix fanfic #the matrix fanfic #my writing

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masterwords · 1 year ago

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as a hotchgan truther who’s only on like s6 of cm, when do you think I should stop watching? or like at what point does savannah come into the picture and all of that bc i don’t know if my heart can take watching my boys be torn apart in life. god especially when hotch leaves I just don’t wanna see it happen.

Hello fellow truther! I will preface this by saying that I am just delusional enough to watch it all and ignore everything I don't like for the sake of my brainrot, so I've gone the distance. (Well. Hotch's distance anyway.)

For anyone not wanting post Season 6 spoilers (or legit hotchgan brain soup), do not read under the cut. <3

Savannah appears first in 9x08. I actually like her, if I'm being honest. Out of all the significant others I find her to be the best all around. She brings out some really cute moments in Derek.

Hotch gets himself a girlfriend around mid-season 7 (7x10) and she hangs around (in theory) until early Season 10 though you don't see her again after the end of Season 8. (The actress got a starring role on a different show.) I am not a Beth fan, I dislike the actress quite a bit however she does make Hotch smile a lot and for that I am thankful. You can't go wrong with smiling Hotch.

Derek's last episode is 11x18 and it's hard to watch after that, even for Hotch. Hotch's last episode is 12x02.

Now, with that all out of the way...I rarely watch past Season 10 before cycling back around to the beginning. The writing really took a nosedive, my favorites left, it's just not worth it when I've seen them all so many times. I'd rather spend my time in Seasons 3/4/5 where the good stuff lives. You know? But there are some really excellent hotchgan moments in Season 7 that I highly recommend, and a few in Season 8, and then again in 9 & 10 in spite of the girlfriend situations. I don't think any of those storylines are too hard to ignore to get to the good stuff. Feel free to send another ask or DM if you want specific episodes for those moments, if you plan not to watch the whole seasons or whatever. I got you.

I watched the whole series twice through (many years ago) without having a ship so I didn't have the same heartache you're experiencing. Nowadays, my brainrot kicks in and says that hotchgan endgame is the real deal. They retire in Chicago and raise their little family in peace and quiet forever and ever amen. And as long as I have words in my brain I'll indulge myself by writing out their forever.

#hotchgan

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jpbjazz · 2 months ago

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LÉGENDES DU JAZZ

JUNIOR MANCE, LE PIANISTE AUX QUATORZE DOIGTS

“I suppose the artist does have some responsibility to his audience; but sometimes, it is awfully hard to exert that responsibility. An audience should accept an artist for what he is. If he has to change his personality, his work might suffer.”

- Juinor Mance

Né le 10 octobre 1928 à Evanston, dans les Illinois, Julian Clifford Mance, Jr. était le fils de Julian Mance et de Marie McCollum. Le père de Mance travaillait dans une buanderie et sa mère était maîtresse de maison. Mance avait aussi une jeune soeur.

Mance avait commencé à jouer de la musique à l’âge de cinq ans sur le piano droit de ses parents à Evanston. Décrivant son apprentissage sur le piano de ses parents, Mance avait commenté plus tard: ‘’It was there when we moved into our apartment. Before television, all homes had a piano. My father played it. I just picked things out at that age but I had a hunger for music.’’

Même s’il avait accès à la collection de disques de son père, Mance n’avait pas été tellement attiré par la musique jusqu’à ce que son père lui apprenne comment jouer du stride et du boogie woogie. Mance expliquait: ‘’I had heard records as a child but didn’t pay much attention to them. My father liked big bands. He could have been a professional musician. He taught me to play boogie-woogie and stride.’’

Avec la permission de son père, Mance avait décroché un premier contrat professionnel à Chicago à l’âge de dix ans. À l’époque, le voisin de palier de Mance, un saxophoniste, recherchait un pianiste de remplacement car le pianiste de son groupe était malade. Décrivant ce premier concert, Mance avait raconté plus tard:

‘’A saxophonist who lived upstairs had a gig at a roadhouse. One night his piano player got sick and he couldn’t find anyone to fill in. He asked my dad if I could do the gig. My father said I could. Though I was 10 years old, the club owner was dumb about that stuff. In the late ‘30s, the clubs in Chicago never checked on a musician's age. Every club had the law in their pocket anyway. (...) The gig went well. The audience was made up mostly of truckers taking a break from the road. No one paid much attention.’’

Décrivant ses débuts dans la musique, Mance avait ajouté: ‘’I had worked in Chicago clubs. I just listened to records, mostly by boogie-woogie players. They were the big money-makers. This guy upstairs taught me things, too, though he only knew one set of changes for the blues.’’

Surnommé ‘’Junior’’ pour le différencier de son père, Mance avait conservé ce surnom tout au long de sa carrière professionnelle.

Si le père de Mance avait toujours encouragé sa carrière musicale, sa mère avait désapprouvé ce choix et l’avait incité à s’inscrire en médecine à la Northwestern University. Décrivant la répulsion de sa mère pour la carrière de musicien professionnel, Mance avait précisé: ‘’She didn’t want me to be a musician. She wanted me to be a doctor and had me taking scientific subjects in high school. By the time I reached college age, she had already picked out the university that she wanted me to attend— Northwestern. I grew up in Evanston, so the college was nearby.’’

Mais Mance, qui désirait vivre une existence indépendante de sa famille, aurait préféré aller étudier à Chicago. Il expliquait: ‘’I didn’t want to go there. It was too close to home. My mother finally gave in and said she’d let me go to college in Chicago, which was an hour’s ride on the elevated. She picked Roosevelt College.’’

Mais la mère de Mance avait refusé d’abandonner et avait insisté pour qu’il poursuive des études de médecine. Mance précisait: ‘’When I left for school on my first day, she said, “Be sure you sign up for the right pre-med classes.”

Malgré les pressions de sa mère, Mance s’était principalement inscrit à des cours de musique. Lorsque Mance était revenu à la maison, il s’était finalement résigné à dire la vérité à sa mère. Il poursuivait: ‘’I thought, “What the hell did I just do?” [laughs] When I got home, my mother said, “Did you sign up for pre-med?” I said, “Yeah, mom, everything is done now.” Then I changed the subject quick.’’ Lorsque le père de Mance était rentré à la maison, il avait tenté de s’en faire un allié, mais il avait refusé d’intervenir. Mance expliquait: ’’He said, “I knew you were going to do that. Leave me out of it, though. This is between you and your mother.” Lorsque l’université avait fait parvenir le revenir de notes de Mance chez lui, il n’avait pas eu le choix de mettre cartes sur table avec sa mère. Il racontait: ‘’She said to me, “What does this mean?” I said, “Mom, I didn’t think I’d be a good doctor. If I had signed up, you would have seen the worst population decrease in history” (rires). Finalement, la mère de Mance lui avait demandé d’attendre le retour de son père. Mance poursuivait: ‘’She looked at me with a straight face. Then she said, “Just wait until your father comes home.” He came home and, of course, eased everything along. I continued to attend the college’s music program.’’

À l’époque, le jazz n’était pas très bien perçu dans la plupart des universités. Déçu que le jazz ait été interdit par la direction du collège, Mance avait abandonné ses études avant la fin de l’année scolaire. Il expliquait: ‘’There was this professor from France, a classical teacher, and we didn’t get along. We had a language problem, and she hated jazz. At the time, jazz was forbidden in college. One day she caught me playing piano in one of the practice rooms and had me expelled for a week. The piano player Eddie Baker was enrolled there, too. He was caught doing the same thing and also was suspended.’’

Comme pianiste, Mance avait d’abord été influencé par Meade Lux Lewis, Albert Ammons et Pete Johnson, puis par Earl Hines, Art Tatum, Teddy Wilson, Bud Powell, Ahmad Jamal et Oscar Peterson.

DÉBUTS DE CARRIÈRE

Lorsqu’il avait été expulsé du Roosevelt College en 1947, à l’âge de seulement dix-neuf ans pour avoir joué du jazz dans une salle de pratique, Mance avait joué avec le saxophoniste ténor Gene Ammons durant une semaine. Mance explique comment il avait commencé à jouer avec Ammons:

‘’So when I was suspended, Gene said, “Listen Junior, I’m going to New York. Can you go?” I said yes before I had asked my dad. When I asked him, my parents had a fight. My mother didn’t want me to go. So Gene came over to the house and promised to take good care of me. My mother finally let me go. This was in the late ‘40s. When we arrived in New York, all the clubs on 52nd Street were shut or closing down. Gene was supposed to work there with a quintet, but we had to return to Chicago soon after we arrived in New York. There wasn’t much work. I stayed with Gene and recorded my first records with him in 1947.’’

Mance avait enregistré avec Ammons le 23 septembre de la même année pour les disques Aladdin. Durant une tournée en 1949, Lester Young était venu voir jouer Ammons au Congo Lounge de Chicago. Ce soir-là, le pianiste de Young, Bud Powell, avait raté l’avion pour Chicago, et Young lui avait demandé de le remplacer. Mance explique comment il avait fait la connaissance de Young: ‘’Lester came to Chicago to play some dance. But his piano player {Bud Powell} had missed the flight. Lester came by where Gene was playing after his own gig to say hi. It was a small joint on 48th and South Parkway called the Congo Lounge. (...) He stayed for a few sets and liked what he heard. Lester didn’t think I was permanent, so he had his manager ask if I was interested in joining him. I told Gene about the offer.’’

À l’époque, Ammons s’étant vu offrir le poste de Stan Getz dans le groupe de Woody Herman, il avait accepté de le laisser partir. Mance poursuivait: ‘’{Ammons was} delighted. That same day Woody Herman had asked him to replace Stan Getz [rires]. So it all worked out. I wasn’t intimidated by Lester. At that age, you take it where you can get it. You’re bold. My father taught me that if you’re going do something, really do it. So I did.’’

Mance avait enregistré avec Young pour les disques Savoy la même année. Expliquant comment c’était d’enregistrer avec Young, Mance avait précisé: ’’Lester never rehearsed. We always went into the studio cold. I was a little nervous about that, but I wasn’t going to show it. When you work with cats like that, you hide your feelings. When I was younger, I once made a mistake while playing something. I said, “Damn.” The guys told me never to say that. They said, “Play right through it.”

Décrivant son séjour de deux ans dans le groupe de Young, Mance avait commenté: “He wasn’t like a bandleader. He hung out with all of us. He was so down to earth. On the road he’d knock on our door every day to find out how we were.”

Mance avait éventuellement retrouvé Ammons dans le cadre d’un enregistrement avec Sonny Stitt en 1950. Mais à l’instar de ce qui s’était produit avec Young, Mance avait dû s’adapter rapidement, car Stitt n’avait pas l’habitude de répéter avant ses concerts. Il expliquait: ‘’Jazz in those days was always competitive and supportive. We didn’t rehearse. What you heard on those records is what those guys came up with on the spot. We’d do the same thing on stage.’’

Mance avait été mobilisé par l’armée en 1951. Il expliquait: ‘’After I was drafted, I immediately wanted to join an Army band. But when I was sent to Fort Knox, they wouldn’t let me in the band. To get in, they said, I had to play a marching instrument. I didn’t know how to play the sax, trumpet, trombone or any instrument you could march with in parades. They asked if I could play the glockenspiel. I said, “What’s that?” So they just put me in an infantry outfit.’’

Deux semaines avant d’être envoyé en Corée pour suivre son entraînement de base, Mance était entré dans un bar et avait entendu jouer Cannonball Adderley pour la première fois. Mance raconte comment il avait fait la connaissance d’Adderley:

‘’I was slated to do 10 weeks of training and then be sent to Korea. After a few weeks, I was taught to walk guard duty from 4 p.m. through the night. I had to walk around the service club where the guys who finished playing in the marching band hung out. One night I was walking guard duty and heard this fantastic music coming from the club. (...) At first I thought I was hearing records. It was that good. Now back then, you’d walk two hours and rest one. When my hour of rest came, I ran from the guard shack to the club. When I walked in, there on the stage was a big band in civilian clothes. The band didn’t have to wear Army clothes when they played after training for the day. A big fat guy playing the alto was up on the stage leading the band. I realized that it was the horn I had heard while I walking outside. I looked at the guy. It wasn’t Sonny Stitt. And it wasn’t Charlie Parker. (....) Cannonball Adderley [rires]. I blurted out, “Hey, can I sit in with y’all?” The piano player instantly reached down and pulled me up on the bandstand and then disappeared. I guess he wanted a break. Well, there I am, the only guy in the building wearing a steel helmet, fatigues and combat boots.’’

Adderley avait à peine eu de le temps de réagir que Mance était déjà monté sur scène. Mance poursuivait:

‘’Cannonball didn’t have a chance to answer. He just looked at me sitting at the piano and said, “What do you want to play.” I said, “Play what’s in your book.” One of Cannon’s eyebrows went up. He called out Splanky. (...) I could read the music easily. I even took a two-chorus solo. When I neared the end of my solo, Cannonball was looking at me. Cannon motioned for me to continue, to extend the solo. I hadn’t even been near a piano for eight weeks. (...) I just stretched out. When I rolled my eyes over to the brass and sax sections, they were smiling. So I kept on playing. Then I noticed they were snapping their fingers. So I really stretched out. “Yeah, baby, go ahead, go ahead,” they shouted. Cannonball was saying the same thing. Man, I was tired when my solo wound down. The band came in with last chorus.’’

Après sa performance, Adderley s’était approché de Mance et lui avait dit: “That’s fantastic.” Mance poursuivait: He asked me my name. I told him, “Junior Mance.” He said, “If you’re Junior Mance, what are you doing here?” Apparently he had heard about me. I looked him in the eye and said, “What are you doing here?” (...) There was a pause, and he just laughed. “Touché,” he said. He asked if I was joining the band. I told him I couldn’t because I couldn’t play a marching instrument.’’ Lorsque le sergent avait demandé à Mance de se rapporter au quartier-général, il croyait avoir fait quelque chose de mal. Après être monté dans la jeep d’Adderley, Mance lui avait demandé ce qui se passait. Adderley avait répondu laconiquement: “Shhh, let’s get out of earshot first.” Mance poursuivait: “Listen carefully. These orders are phony. I want you to play for our band commander. We’re going to the barracks now to audition.” When we got there, I played, and the guys were yelling me on. The commander didn’t know anything except marches.’’

En réalité, Adderley avait été tellement impressionné par le jeu de Mance qu’il lui avait obtenu un poste pour jouer avec le 36th Army Band de Fort Knox, au Kentucky, où il avait travaillé comme commis. Tout ce que Mance avait besoin pour obtenir le poste était de savoir taper à la machine. Il poursuivait: ‘’Cannon said to get the job I had to know how to type. I said I knew how, from high school. A light bulb went off over Cannon’s head. He said, “For real?” I said, “I’m as serious as a heart attack.” Cannon told the commanding officer, and I became the company clerk and played piano in the band. Typing saved my life. Cannon saved my life.’’ Mance avait toujours dit qu’Adderley lui avait sauvé la vie en lui obtenant cet emploi car la plupart des soldats de sa compagnie étaient décédés dans une embuscade deux semaines plus tard. Un jour, alors qu’il marchait dans les environs de la base, Mance avait rencontré un des rares survivants de l’embuscade. Le soldat, qui n’avait plus de jambes et se déplaçait en chaise roulante, avait déclaré à Mance: “Man, they knew we were coming. They shot us down like fish in a barrel”.

Mance avait éventuellement quitté le 36th Army Band pour se joindre au groupe itinérant d’Adderley. Décrivant son amitié pour Adderley, Mance avait expliqué plus tard: “From that day on, Cannon and I were best friends for life.’’

Après avoir été démobilisé en 1953, Mance avait fait partie du groupe-maison du Bee Hive Jazz Club de Chicago, où il avait complété la section rythmique du trio d’Israel Crosby à la contrebasse et de Buddy Smith à la batterie. Durant son séjour d’un an au club, Mance avait accompagné de grands noms du jazz comme Charlie Parker, Coleman Hawkins, Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis, Johnny Griffin, Louis Armstrong et Sonny Stitt.

Mance avait joué durant quatre semaines avec Parker. Il expliquait:

‘’Up on the stand we just winged it. He’d say, “Do you know such and such a song?” I’d say, “Yeah, we know it.” I knew all of his songs and all of the standards he liked to play. I grew up with a bunch of talented guys in Chicago. We knew all those tunes. It was a nice four weeks with Bird. {...} He’d just say, “Make it easy on yourself.” He was so laid back, it was like playing with someone local. The club booked all of us for four weeks after that first night.’’

Mance connaissait déjà Parker pour avoir déjà joué avec lui en 1947. Au bout des quatre semaines, Parker avait approché Mance et l’avait fortement encouragé à s’installer à New York. Mance poursuivait: ‘’He said, “Junior, why don’t you come to New York?” I told him, “I’m trying, I’m trying.” I had to save up and line up gigs. When I finally got there several months later, I ran into Parker on Broadway. He was coming out of the Turf on 50th St. Without missing a beat, he said, “Hey Junior. I see you finally made it.” The guy had a mind like a trap.’’

Évoquant sa collaboration avec Coleman Hawkins, Mance avait précisé:

‘’The first time I played with Hawk was in Chicago in May 1954. He was in town to record for Parrot Records, a label run by a disc jockey named Al Benson. When he played the Bee Hive, he needed a piano player so I was called for the gig. Hawk and I did eight weeks there together. Man, he knew more tunes. I learned more songs playing with him than with anyone else. I’d ask him what key he wanted to play a song in, and Hawk would say, “Wherever you want to put it. Just play the intro and I’ll figure out where we’re at.” When you’ve been playing as long as that guy, things come automatically.’’

En 1954, on avait demandé à Mance d’enregistrer avec la chanteuse Dinah Washington qui avait perdu son pianiste après que Wynton Kelly ait été mobilisé. Mance explique comment il avait été appelé à enregistreravec Washington:

‘’She asked me during the day to come to make the record that night. I went in. Lockjaw, Clark Terry, Rick Henderson and other great guys were there. It was a small group. One of the first tunes we did was A Foggy Day. She really nailed it. After the session, she walked over to the piano and said, “Junior, what are you doing now?” I told her I had been working at the Bee Hive. She said, “Well you wouldn’t be interested in working with me would you?” I told her I would. She said, “Well, if you’re ready, I’m ready, too.” That’s how I came to work with her. She needed an accompanist with Wynton away.’’

Lorsqu’on avait demandé à ce que c’était que de travailler avec Washington, il avait précisé:

‘’Like accompanying an instrument. She could play the piano and had spent time in Lionel Hampton’s band, so she was a highly seasoned musician. She understood the piano and how she wanted it to sound behind her. {...} Even when I left to join Cannonball Adderley in 1956, she was cool. She just went out and hired Cannonball’s entire big band just to get me for Land of Hi-Fi [laughs]. All I did was listen carefully to what Dinah was doing and where she was going on songs. And I guess she was listening to me, too. {...} She wanted things her way and she usually got her way. It was a joy just to be around her. We used to go to after hours clubs a lot. She always liked to take her piano player along, in case she wanted to sing. {...} She was like Art Tatum. People in the club would all be quietly saying, “The Queen's here" or "The Queen just walked in.”

Mance avait accompagné Washington en tournée au cours des deux années suivantes. Durant cette période, Mance avait aussi appris les techniques d’accompagnement de l’arrangeur de Washington, Jimmy Jones. Décrivant sa collaboration avec Jones, Mance avait commenté:

‘’I’ve always used a formula that pianist Jimmy Jones taught me. Jimmy had written some elaborate arrangements for Dinah. At the time, I wasn’t a great reader. Jimmy came over and told me how to handle these things. {...} He said, “Look, when you’re working with a singer, imagine a portrait painting hanging in the museum. The singer is the subject of that portrait. What does the portrait need? A good frame. That’s you.’’ {...} My job is to be supportive, to signal what’s coming and to provide a background that makes them feel comfortable so they can do their thing and sound great.’’

Les disques EmArcy ont publié une série de deux microsillons intitulée Dinah Jams and Jam Session. Les enregistrements étaient tirés d’une performance enregistrée à Los Angeles les 14 et 15 août 1954 et mettant en vedette Mance, Washington, Clifford Brown, Clark Terry, Maynard Ferguson, Herb Geller, Harold Land, Richie Powell, Keter Betts, George Morrow et Max Roach. Décrivant l’atmosphère de cette jam session, Mance avait commenté:

‘’She {Washington} wanted to do something different so she had her manager or Mercury rent side-by-side two studios and put them together. Then she invited about 50 of her friends. They had to be jazz fans. She had it catered with food and wine. She wanted a live feel, an audience so the jam session would be credible. You perform differently when a lot of people are watching and tape is rolling. It's like an added challenge.’’

Il s’agissait d’un véritable enregistrement live réalisé en studio. Décrivant les circonstances de l’enregistrement, Mance avait précisé:

‘’That applause wasn’t scripted. It was for real. They couldn't help themselves. Man, you had Clifford Brown, Maynard Ferguson, Clark Terry, Harold Land, Herb Geller, Richie Powell, Keeter Betts, George Morrow and Max Roach [laughs]. What a group of musicians—from any coast. (...) There were no rehearsals. In some places Maynard and Clifford did something where the trumpets sounded like they were reading a chart. At the end of I Get a Kick Out of You, for example. (...) It was one of the greatest moments of my career. Everyone was cooking. It was really a party.’’

En 1956, Mance s’était joint au premier groupe ‘’civil’’ de Cannonball Adderley, qui comprenait également son frère Nat Adderley, Sam Jones et Jimmy Cobb. Le groupe avait enregistré quelques albums pour les disques EmArcy/Mercury au cours des deux années suivantes. Dinah Washington avait aussi engagé le groupe pour l’accompagner sur l’album In the Land of Hi-Fi (1956). Mance, qui avait adoré jouer avec le groupe, avait expliqué: ‘’I spent two years with Cannon after the Army. I loved that band— Cannon on alto sax, his brother Nat on trumpet and cornet, me on piano, Sam Jones on bass and Jimmy Cobb on drums.’’ À la même époque, Mance avait également enregistré avec Johnny Griffin, James Moody et Wilbur Ware pour les disques Argo et Riverside. Même si Mance considérait Ware comme un génie, il n’avait pu nier qu’il avait connu certains problèmes personnels qui avaient nui à sa carrière. Il précisait: ‘’He got involved with drugs early. He came to New York after Johnny and I did. When he got there, he was trying to kick his habit. He went through a lot of trouble and turmoil. Which is a shame. He was the nicest cat in the world. He amazed everyone.’’

Contrairement à certains musiciens de jazz comme Charlie Parker, Bud Powell et Wilbur Ware, Mance avait toujours mené une vie relativement saine et s’était tenu à l’écart des narcotiques. Il expliquait: ‘’ I never got involved with that. I had looked at enough of these guys from Chicago who messed up. They were only fooling themselves. Lester Young smoked pot, but he wasn’t outrageous with it.’’ Mance avait déjà fumé un joint lors d’une de ses premières sessions d’enregistrement, mais il n’avait jamais vraiment apprécié. Il précisait: ‘’I smoked a joint on one record date early on and played worse than I ever did. I never was in my right mind. I never touched it again.’’ Mance avait également tenu à dissiper la légende selon laquelle Parker avait incité d’autres musiciens à consommer. Il expliquait: ‘’So much about Bird was exaggerated over the years. He never enticed anyone to use drugs. But users and pushers were constantly on him.’’ Précisant sa pensée, Mance avait ajouté:

‘’When we were working at the Bee Hive in '53, two guys came by the club. They were worshipers of Bird’s. After a set Bird and I were in the dressing room talking. These two guys came in, and the first thing they did was take out their works—needle, spoon, everything. Bird said, “Hey, hey, hey, what are you guys doing?” {...}. They said, “We have enough for you, Bird, don’t worry. We want to get high and play like you.” Man, Bird read them the riot act. Bird said, “I can’t help myself now. I’m trying to quit.” He spoke to them like a preacher: “You’re not doing anything but ruining yourselves. Look, don’t do as I do. Do as I say.” When he was done letting them have it, they seemed so small.’’ Finalement, les deux hommes étaient décédé moins d’un an plus tard. Mance avait ajouté: Bird never looked kindly on people who did drugs. He never suggested I use, and I never saw him use on the job.’’

Lorsque son groupe avait dû être démantelé en raison du manque de contrats, Adderley s’était joint au sextet de Miles Davis. Pendant ce temps, Mance était devenu membre du groupe de Dizzy Gillespie, de nouveau en remplacement de Wynton Kelly. Faisaient également partie du groupe Les Spann, Sam Jones et Lex Humphries. Faisant l’éloge de la virtuosité de Mance dans son compte rendu d’une performance du groupe de Gillespie à Kansas City, au Missouri, un critique du Kansas City Times écrivait: “In Junior Mance, Dizzy has found a remarkable pianist. Mance plays with the effects of thunder and lightning and seems to have at least 14 fingers.”

Mance avait aussi accompagné Gillespie et Louis Armstrong dans le cadre d’une émission de télévision diffusée sur le réseau CBS en janvier 1959. À cette occasion, le trio avait interprété la chanson "Umbrella Man".

C’est le fondateur des disques Verve, Norman Granz, qui avait proposé à Mance d’enregistrer pour la première fois comme leader dans le cadre d’une session avec Dizzy Gillespie en avril 1959. Expliquant comment Granz l’avait approché, Mance avait commenté:

‘’We had just finished doing one of Dizzy’s dates when I looked over and saw Dizzy and Norman Granz off to the side talking. They kept looking at me. I wondered, “Did I screw up or something?” All of sudden Norman walked over and said, “How would you like to do your own record date?” {...} I stammered and said, “Yeah.” I had been working in Dizzy's group with bassist Sam Jones. Norman said, “Would you mind using Ray Brown?” I stammered again, “Yeah, I guess so.” Later I was fixing to apologize to Sam but when I did, Sam said, “What—are you kidding? When you can play with Ray, you don’t ask questions.”

Mance avait décrit plus tard sa collaboration avec Gillespie comme un des meilleurs moments de sa carrière. Intitulé simplement ‘’Junior’’, l’album avait été publié par Verve plus tard la même année. Il s’agissait d’un enregistrement en trio mettant en vedette Mance, le contrebassiste Ray Brown et le batteur de Gillespie, Lex Humphries.

Dans son compte rendu de l’album, un critique du Boston Globe avait qualifié Mance de ‘’one of the most swinging and utterly delightful pianists in jazz today”. Un autre critique avait ajouté: “Mance plays with the effects of thunder and lightning and seems to have at least 14 fingers.” L’album s’ouvrait sur un classique de Benny Goodman et Ernie Royal intitulé “A Smooth One.’’

Mance avait continué d’enregistrer régulièrement par la suite, ce qui incluait six albums publiés par les disques Jazzland/Riverside au début des années 1960. Mance s’était également joint au quintet d’Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis et de Johnny Griffin avec qui il avait enregistré sept albums en 1960-61. Mance avait aussi enregistré avec des compagnies majeures comme Capitol (1964–1965) et Atlantic (1966–1970), ce qui comprenait une session dans laquelle il avait joué du clavecin (Harlem Lullaby, 1966) et un album de fusion (With a Lotta Help from My Friends, 1970). Ce dernier album avait été enregistré avec un quartet comprenant Eric Gale à la guitare, Chuck Rainey à la basse électrique et Billy Cobham à la batterie.

À la suite d’une session d’enregistrement avec Benny Carter pour la bande sonore du film A Man Called Adam mettant en vedette Sammy Davis, Jr. en 1965, Carter et Mance avaient également assisté aux trois sets d’une performance d’Ornette Coleman au légendaire Five Spot Café de New York. Rappelant les circonstances de l’événement, Mance avait commenté: ‘’When we finished recording, Benny said, “I’m going to stay in town. I want to see Ornette.” {...} We went down to the Five Spot and took a table in the corner. I sat with Benny for a while and then went over to the bar to hang out with some of the guys.’’

Étonné de voir Carter assister à un concert de free jazz, un journaliste lui avait demandé pendant l’entracte: “Hey, Benny, what are you doing here?” Mance poursuivait: ‘’Benny said, “Look man, I want to know what’s going on. It doesn’t mean I’m trying to play like this. I just like to hear new things.” That was a lesson that stuck with me. I began listening to everybody, too.’’ Mance avait d’ailleurs salué l’ouverture d’esprit de Carter qui lui aurait servi d’inspiration dans le cadre de ses propres explorations sonores.

DERNIÈRES ANNÉES

Mance avait continué d’enregistrer et de se produire sur scène au cours des trois décennies suivantes, même s’il avait légèrement diminué le rythme de ses performances. Mance avait notamment fait quelques enregistrements en duo avec le contrebassiste Martin Rivera. Il avait aussi enregistré deux fois en solo pour la compagnie canadienne Sackville Records, dans le cadre des albums Junior Mance Special et Jubilation. Dans les années 1990, Mance avait également participé avec son trio aux croisières du populaire Floating Jazz Festival. Décrivant la performance du trio, le critique Stanley Dance avait écrit que le groupe “were playing with tremendous zest and authority, as if they had been together for years, not days. There were great rolling crescendos, exultant riffs hammered home with gospel-like enthusiasm, and long sighing diminuendos. Mance was clearly happy with his companions, and they with him”.

Également professeur, Mance avait enseigné à la New School for Jazz and Contemporary Music durant-vingt-trois ans (1988 à 2011). Parmi les étudiants de Mance, on remarquait notamment Brad Mehldau et Larry Goldings. Faisant l’éloge de Mance comme professeur, Mehldau avait raconté plus tard: “Junior was my first teacher when I arrived in New York in 1988. I wanted to study with him because I really wanted to work on comping behind a soloist, and Junior’s comping was so great on a Dizzy Gillespie record I had been listening to a lot called Have Trumpet, Will Excite! He and I would sit at two pianos and comp for each other.”

Mance a pris sa retraite de l’enseignement en 2011. Mance était aussi l’auteur du livre How to Play Blues Piano qui avait été publié par Hansen House en juin 1967.

De 1990 à 2009, Mance avait fait partie du super groupe 100 Gold Fingers avec qui il s’était régulièrement produit au Japon. Composé principalement de pianistes, le groupe comprenait de grands noms du jazz comme Toshiko Akiyoshi, Monty Alexander, Geri Allen, Lynne Arriale, Kenny Barron, Joanne Brackeen, Ray Bryant, Bill Charlap, Cyrus Chestnut, Gerald Clayton, João Donato, Tommy Flanagan, Don Friedman, Benny Green, Barry Harris, Gene Harris, Hank Jones, Duke Jordan, Roger Kellaway, John Lewis, Harold Mabern, Dave McKenna, Marian McPartland, Mulgrew Miller, Dado Moroni, Hod O'Brien, Eric Reed, Ted Rosenthal, Renee Rosnes, Mal Waldron, Cedar Walton, James Williams et Chihiro Yamanaka. La session rythmique di groupe était composée du contrebassiste Bob Cranshaw et des batteurs Alan Dawson et Grady Tate. Parallèlement à sa collaboration avec le groupe, Mance avait continué de publier d’autres albums comme leader, dont ‘’Mance’’ qui avait été publié en 2000, et au sujet duquel le critique Alex Henderson du site All Music avait écrit: “Junior Mance’s work was impressively consistent in the ’90s. The veteran pianist didn’t do anything groundbreaking, but he excelled by sticking with the hard bop/soul-jazz approach that he had long since perfected.”

Avec sa femme Gloria Clayborne, Mance avait fondé la compagnie de disques JunGlo en 2007. Le premier album de la compagnie intitulé Live At Café Loup mettait en vedette Mance avec un trio composé de Hidé Tanaka à la contrebasse et Jackie Williams à la batterie, avec José James comme chanteur invité. La batteuse Kim Garey avait éventuellement assuré la relève de Williams. Deux saxophonistes, Ryan Anselmi et Andrew Hadro, s’étaient également joints au groupe. Mance avait publié deux albums en 2008, intitulés respectivement ‘’Groovin’ With Junior’’ et ‘’Blue Minor.’’

En 2013, Mance avait fait une tournée aux États-Unis, en Italie, au Japon et en Israël. Il était accompagné de Tanaka et de la violoniste Michi Fuji (une de ses anciens étudiantes de la New School). Le trio s’était produit tous les dimanches soirs au Café Loup jusqu’à la retraite de Mance au printemps 2016. Mance était également un incontournable du Knickerbocker Bar and Grill de Greenwich Village où il avait joué durant des années accompagné en duo avec un contrebassiste.

Junior Mance, qui connaissait divers problèmes de santé depuis plusieurs années, est mort à sa résidence d’une Manhattan le 17 janvier 2021 à la suite d’une hemorragie cérébrale qui était survenue après une chute survenue un mois auparavant. Victime d’une attaque en 2015, Mance était aussi atteint de la maladie d’Alzheimer. Il était âgé de quatre-vingt-douze ans au moment de son décès. Ont survécu à Mance son épouse Gloria, ses deux belle-filles, Nadia King et Gail Wilson, son gendre Walter Jones III et un arrière-petit-fils. Mance s’était marié quatre fois. Ses deux premiers mariages s’étaient terminés sur un divorce, et le troisième avait pris fin avec la mort de sa femme. Mance avait rencontré Gloria en 1996.

Même si la maladie d’Alzheimer l’avait empêché de se produire sur scène, la musique avait toujours continué de jouer dans sa tête, selon sa veuve Gloria. Lorsqu’il avait fait sa chute, avait ajouté Gloria, Mance croyait qu’il venait de terminer une de ses tournées. Elle expliquait: “He was in bed, talking to a fan who must have said he enjoyed his last number, and Junior said ‘I’m so glad you did. And I think he must have reached out to give the guy a hug or a handshake and tumbled out of bed.” Décrivant ses sentiments à la suite de la mort de Mance, Gloria avait commenté: “I know the world has lost a jazz legend, he was undoubtedly a very loving, happy and unforgettable person. I have lost my soul mate.” Gloria avait ajouté: “I will forever miss his smiles, his love, his laughter, our shared happiness and, ultimately, my best friend.’’

Le dernier album de Mance, intitulé For My Fans: It’s All About You, avait été publié en 2015, après que son épouse Gloria, qui était également sa gérante, ait dû amasser la somme de 6000$ afin de financer le projet.

Particulièrement à l’aise en trio, Mance avait enregistré plus de cinquante albums comme leader au cours de sa carrière s’étendant sur plus de soixante-dix ans. Comme accompagnateur, il avait aussi collaboré à de nombreux autres albums d’autres musiciens. Mance avait joué et enregistré avec les plus grands noms du jazz au cours de sa carrière, dont Gene Ammons, Benny Carter, Johnny Griffin, Eddie ‘’Lockjaw’’ Davis, José James, Ken Peplowski, Sonny Stitt, Dinah Washington, Joe Williams, Dexter Gordon, Junior Wells, Louis Armstrong, Jimmy Rushing, Dizzy Gillespie, Etta Jones, Aretha Franklin, Clifford Brown, David “Fathead” Newman, James Moody, Jimmy Scott, les frères Cannonball et Nat Adderley et Lester Young. Parmi les albums les plus importants de Mance, on remarquait The Soulful Piano Of Junior Mance (1960), Junior Mance Trio At The Village Vanguard (1961), Junior’s Blues (1962), Live at the Top (1968) et Blue Mance (1995).

Dans une entrevue accordée à Barbara Gardner du magazine Down Beat en avril 1961, Mance avait expliqué ainsi sa philosophie de la musique: “I suppose the artist does have some responsibility to his audience; but sometimes, it is awfully hard to exert that responsibility. An audience should accept an artist for what he is. If he has to change his personality, his work might suffer.” Après la mort de Mance, le saxophoniste baryton Andrew Hadro, qui l’avait accompagné durant de nombreuses années, lui avait rendu hommage en ces termes:

“As long as you were there to play, he was your friend. He didn’t much care how old you were, where you came from, or what bathroom you used. If you wanted to play some blues, you were cool. His favorite piano was truly the one in front of him. The only thing he liked almost as much as playing was hanging out, laughing and telling stories from his decades playing jazz everywhere with everyone. He was just as happy holding court at the piano in his college classroom as he was playing for audiences in swanky clubs in Europe. I learned more from him than just about anyone, yet I never felt like he was trying to teach.”

Pour sa part, la chanteuse Jazzmeia Horn avait qualifié Mance d’un ‘’of my FAVORITE professors and mentors in this music.”

Décrivant la polyvalence de Mance (il avait même joué avec Buddy Guy), le critique John S. Wilson du New York Times l’avait décrit comme un des rares pianistes de jazz à avoir connu un certain succès auprès des amateurs de la musique populaire. Comparant Mance à Errol Garner et Earl Hines, Wilson avait ajouté: “Over this he weaves bits of melody that surge and bubble, riffs that prod and poke against the rhythm, swirling flourishes and runs that take delightfully unexpected twists and turns.”

Caractérisé par un jeu très swing largement influencé par le blues, le hard bop, le gospel et les negro spirituals (il excellait également dans les standards, le boogie woogie et le stride), Mance a été intronisé au sein de l’International Jazz Hall of Fame en 1997. En juin 2015, la Jazz Gallery de New York avait également décerné à Mance un Lifetime Achievement Award. En 2022, la réalisatrice Jyllian Gunther a rendu hommage à Mance dans un documentaire intitulé Sunset and the Mockingbird. Le film évoquait notamment la relation de Mance avec son épouse Gloria et son long combat contre la maladie d’Alzheimer.

SOURCES:

CHINEN, Nate. ‘’Junior Mance, Impeccable Jazz Pianist and Educator, Has Died at 92.’’ WBGO, 20 janvier 2021.

‘’In Memoriam: Pianist Junior Mance.’’ Down Beat, 18 janvier 2021.

‘’Junior Mance.’’ Wikipedia, 2024.

SANDOMIR, Richard. ‘’Junior Mance, Jazz Pianist Who Played With Giants, Dies at 92.’’ New York Times, 24 janvier 2021.

WHITE, John.’’Obituary: Junior Mance.’’ Jazz Journal, 20 janvier 2021.

#jazz

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deyadee · 5 months ago

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La La Land

Once I got around to watching it I can’t tell you how happy I was watching it. It had great songs, some funny moments, and I don’t remember being this happy watching a musical since maybe the first time I watched Chicago or Teen Beach Movie (yes I know I have shit taste). It was also probably one of the very few times I’ve been invested in a straight romance. Not saying that they’re bad, I usually find them kind of boring because I don’t route for them as hard. Maybe because the characters are more boring, or maybe because I always think “Oh they’ll definitely get together, because it’s a straight romance movie.” And then sunshine and rainbows forever. I still think those movies should exist, don’t get me wrong, but I just don’t get as invested in them that often. With gay couples (even if I know they get together in the end) it feels like there’s an even lower chance they’ll get together or they have to go through even more just to be together. Or maybe it’s just because how I said that one time that straight romance sometimes feels like it’s bragging about how perfect their relationship is.

This time I was HOOKED. I feel like I could relate to the characters and it made my heart soar as they were getting closer to each other. Maybe it was better writing, or better characters, or because the main characters have some kind of obsession and passion they can’t get rid of- I don’t know but I was so engrossed in this movie I couldn’t stop watching. I have a short attention span so usually I get distracted by other things like my phone or doing chores but this time it was like I was addicted to every second of it.

My family came home about half-way through it and I told my mom about how good it was to that point. I mean I knew eventually it was going to have some conflict between them because every romance movie had that, but I thought it would be like every other conflict and get sorted out. I thought they would achieve their dreams and ride off into the sunset in each other’s arms.

Then I watched the rest. They fought, of course, and they argued. They came close to giving up their dreams but they always would come back to build each other up and encourage one another to keep pursuing their dreams. Things were looking up and my heart was soaring, and I felt so happy that I felt like I wasn’t even real.

For the past while I’ve been feeling useless. I’m not working right now, I can’t drive, barely any friends, I have no partner, I have no ambitions or dreams, I live with my parents, I’m just a waste of human life. Though I’ve been working on two stories recently and my friends have been cheering me on saying my writing is really good. I even started working on a project I abandoned a long time ago. I’ve been dragging myself to work on the parts I haven’t wanted to work on recently and feeling like I’m doing all of this for nothing. Like all of my work was just a waste of time. Like no one would know it exists outside of my extremely small circle. There’s thousands of stories and things out there for people to compare it to. There’s so many people who are better than me at everything. Everything I do is just fucking trash compared to literally everyone else around me. So to see this movie and have the main characters say that you can do anything and people WILL like it as long as you keep trying, it really made me feel like I wasn’t completely useless for once.

And then the ending hit me like a truck. Sure. They got their club and their acting career. But they weren’t together. I thought maybe part of the end was that she was just imagining all of the stuff with her new husband. But no. That’s real. And they didn’t end up together. She ends up with some random fucking boring ass dude and they smile at each other and that’s it.

I’m lucky I have enough self-restraint to not break fucking everything around me. I just wanna chuck something at the goddamn wall. Light it on fire and watch it burn.

I know I’m being fucking Overdramatic, but if this were the first time you got this invested in anyone- if you felt that inspired from the “you CAN make it” message only for them to say “Nah fuck you, it’s reality hun nothing works out how you want. You’ll die alone working at a fucking McDonald’s you ugly hag.” You’re gonna be a little pissed.

Then when I look up how people thought about it in case there’s some after-credits scene that makes it better- and every fucking musical fan is like “Oh I loved the ending, it’s so bittersweet and more realistic.”

Bitch. This is the fucking movie where a magical little meet-cute happens and they fall in love. Where people burst into choreographed song and dance. Where they fucking float into space. Where a girl brings fucking tap shoes with her to dance with a random guy in the middle of the street. I DON’T NEED GODDAMN REALISM IN MY FUCKING MUSICAL WHORE.

Of course no wonder why it won a billion fucking awards because it suckers you in with hope and fucking crushes it before your eyes. I know I’m biased because I like a lot of saccharine sweet musicals with happy endings even to people who are some of the worst people of all time, but my blood is still boiling thinking of this fucking ending.

Like ok, I love MHA and I ship BakuDeku. The manga recently ended and they didn’t get together. Was I surprised? No. Did I care? No. It was just a cute ship that I knew wasn’t going to happen. They weren’t even friends for the majority of the series. I didn’t expect them to change the series to make the ship work, nor do I want them to. But I can understand the DekuOcha shippers getting mad because they spent the entire series teasing the relationship only to be like “Eh, nah.”

Like at a certain point that’s just being a dick to your audience, isn’t it?

So yeah, I just wanted to rant about it. I’m probably just going to keep listening to “Another Day of Sun” and pretend it’s its own little short musical because thinking about the rest hurts my chest.

I want to die, and it’s so fun to see a movie kind of validated my self-loathing, in my eyes at least.

#la la land #rant post

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slashertempo · 10 months ago

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Handle Your High..?

Handle Your High

When I was a kid, acid was my drug of choice. Friends were smoking weed, or buying a lot of cocaine, and I just didn't get it. Their stuff was expensive, and I was doing a goofy drug that came on a tiny chip of paper for a couple of dollars. It lasted and kept me up for about 8-12 hours, it made the lights pretty, and the music hit my brain HARD. That and a Long Island Iced Tea, if I could afford it, was all I needed for fun at the clubs. I don't think I ever tried coke, and weed hurt my chest, probably the asthma...

The music would be really intense and I was just there to soak it in and dance for hours, usually by myself. I went just for that, my friends knew that and would be off doing their things, and find me when they were ready to take off. It was always a perfect and simple night for me to blow off steam from my restaurant job, I could tune people out, smoke a bunch of menthols, and hear new sounds every weekend...

Speed was cool, it would get me wired, so we could club all night, and then I could do an opening shift at Carl's Jr. I don't think anyone there ever knew I was tripping or super wired. It kept me pumped for the lunch rush, and then I'd go home and sleep through the daylight. I got away with doing that while living in Chicago.

I've told the story about meeting David Bowie in the early 90's, it was probably a night after a club night, being the reason I was so tired and unable to remember anything about him, but his nasty cigarette breath, heh...

Looking back at those days, and reflecting on it all, at 55, I don't think any of that is something I could get away with, not so much. These days, I enjoy a rum and coke, or a 7up with some red wine in it, or maybe a single Warsteiner or Sam Adams. And they make me feel... maybe a slight buzz, a warm fuzzy drunk, and always tired and ready for bed.

So back to our current timeline, a few days ago I finally got to see a doctor about my breathing, she was understanding of all of it, and saw that I needed to adjust what I was getting used to. She wrote up a few prescriptions, one of which was one of my least favorite drugs. One of the few I usually refuse to take, Prednisone. I don't like pain killers, and I stopped anti-depressants long ago, and Prednisone is right up there with those. If you've taken it, you may be familiar!

Prednisone is a steroid, and it makes you hyper, energetic, perhaps a little high, bordering on seeing shit and your brain seriously wanting to tune out. That's how it makes me feel. I had a ton of trouble the first few days and was awake three days straight, work was insane by the third day, but I made it through, had a day off yesterday, and it was still really weird! I went shopping and spent all my money, bought really stupid food, and a bunch of clothes. I would not have done that if someone was with me, but it is what it is...

So, here I am staying home from work, again, because it is making me feel a bit loopy and strange, and I have a little bit of the shakes. I sent a note to my doctor over the weekend, asking if I should stop, but she shot back that it's really going to help the other asthma meds get a start on helping my routine, and I'll be happier with the results after a few more days. She told me what to look out for, and she was the one who suggested staying home if I could. I'm trusting that and trying to keep relaxed for the day.

So here I am, writing and thinking about how when I was younger, there was always some kind of prep work involved when I was planning to be high. Who was driving, where I needed to be at what time, how long I would be awake, and when I worked. But it all went fine. I was always the type who would follow the "handle your high" rule.

Not to slight any of you friends, but I never wanted to be that "I love you guys, man!" or the one who was tripping all over and everyone had to help me get home. If I was going to become a burden or draw awkward attention to myself from my drinking or drugs, then they were removed from the plan and I'd go without, hah...

So now, I'm taking something that makes me feel out of control. I'm indeed, NOT handling my high, and I hate it, even though there's a lot of positive coming from it, this time. Some of the kids were having a laugh at me a few days ago. I was so wired and loopy, they commented that I was not the usual crabby character I am and that I was super jumpy and giddy about everything. They were still cracking up at my joking, but it was different, I was a clown, apparently. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" one of them joked...

So now I'm here at home, jittery, a bit lucid, and I can feel a sense of hyperactivity moving in. Hopefully, it will be around the time, the kid wants to go do some grocery shopping and laundry and can at least keep an eye on me. If I'm good, maybe I can get 'er to grab me some Chili Cheese Fritos and a coffee drink!

...like I really need one of those, right now! (maybe a choco milk).

youtube

#drugs #prescriptions #lsd #acid #drinking #clubs #bacheolor party brad #i love you drunk #handle your high #Youtube

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lastchancevillagegreen · 2 years ago

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Friday, 24 March 2023:

‘Sno Angel Like You + ‘Sno Angel Winging It Howe Gelb (Fire) (released in 2016)

In the ‘90s I bought a few Giant Sand albums, the band from which Howe Gelb made his name. They never did a lot for me and for that I always felt terrible. Truth be told, I doubt I tried very hard. But Gelb was so prolific and he had an endless array of albums that always sounded like they’d be interested. My brother was/ is a big Giant Sand fan, another reason I always felt I should have tried harder at appreciating Giant Sand. Their catalog was oft confusing and diverse, with Gelb recording under various names with a multitude of different people (including one of my favorite artists, Lisa Germano, an album I st5ill somehow fail to own).

When this album came out in 2006 (on the tiny Chicago label Thrill Jockey) it was a revelation. Howe teams up with The Voices of Praise Gospel Choir and I would say the combination is incongruent but that would mean I know something about Gelb’s music, which I know very little of. What little I do know of it, he ain’t never sounded like this before. As an atheist, you might think I would have an aversion to gospel music or anything associating with the genre. Turns out I have a keen love for religious music (proving once again just how complex people can be) especially old timey religious music of which I seem to have far too many boxes of. But religion does not figure in this album. In my write up of this album at year’s end in 2006 (it finished the year at #18 on my Top 50 and it came in at Number Three on my Critical Top Ten and I continued playing it into 2007) I indicated, “the songs do not prescribe to a particular religion or god (nor do they ever mention a particular religion or god by name), rather the album works as a series of songs meant to push us to believe in ourselves and to achieve all that we can.” The live album, ‘Sno Angel Winging It, originally was packaged with a DVD of the concert. My brother gave me a CD-R of the live set as I was adverse to buy a DVD with a live album coupled as an after thought (or some such nonsense prevented me from buying the live album).

In 2014 I bought the Howe Gelb box Little Sand Box on CD which contained eight of Gelb’s solo albums. I did this predominantly to secure an actual copy of the live set which was now packaged as ‘Sno Angel Like You + ‘Sno Angel Winging It. This set contains both bonus tracks found on the first LP that are only available as downloads (Get To Leave--Holy and Nail In The Sky--Original) so I’m pleased I’ve kept Little Sand Box, a box I have yet to play outside of the opening track of the first album, Brown Recluse Spider. I also still have my original Thrill Jockey CD of ‘Sno Angel Like You.

I bought double album impulsively when Fire Records had a sale on bandcamp. Since their stuff (via bandcamp) is shipped from the UK I rarely buy anything of theirs despite them having a roster of artists I do enjoy. When I discovered they had this on vinyl paired with the live album (which I must admit sheepishly I have never heard, if I have I certainly do not recall it) I snapped it up!

Above you will find the album cover, the gatefold and then the back of the album. Fire Records does nice work with their artists and packaging, so below you will see the inner sleeves (front and back followed by the labels for the album which fits inside. First up, of course, is Record One. In the photos the record labels almost look void of any imagery but it is there.

Next you will see the front and back of the inner sleeve for Album Two followed by the record labels for both sides.

Next up you will see a close up of the hype sticker on the front of the album.

This includes, as you saw on the hype, a download card. Fire does a marvelous job with their download cards, giving you a nice postcard sized card with a front and back. The artwork here is unique to the album. Check it out below.

Yes, even though I won’t be using the download since I have the bonus tracks on the double CD version from Little Sand Box, I did void out the usable code. Don’t want to take money from Gelb’s pocket, you know.

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bvrninghill · 13 days ago

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Iggy supposes she is a student by the vaguest of technicalities—sitting in lectures where she matches, if not surpasses, the enthusiasm of Lorelai’s actual students; clocking in her attendance; even submitting exercises to boot. Pretending for a while, she thinks, that she belongs here. Her desire to learn is real, but admittedly just as pressing as her need for distraction. There is little to do these days, when work of the past year has just begun to wrap up and there’s a shortage of contract work in her field amid the onset of winter. An idle mind, for Iggy, can only ever be a recipe for disaster. Insofar as she might come to the realization that she is so, so far from where she is supposed to be—and here, she swats the treacherous thoughts away with the same degree as one would unwanted flies amid the summer heat.

The buzz remains still, but Lorelai has proven to be an excellent distraction. Her lectures on a discipline that Iggy’s had no real interest in are enough to make her regret dropping out of graduate school, if only because she’d limited her proximity to fascinating minds. There is nothing more charming than a woman who simply knows her stuff. That it comes in such an attractive package is only a bonus. She takes Lorelai’s urging of her joke as an invitation and perches herself on the edge of the desk. Her long legs stretch out between the desk and the chalkboard behind her in some half-barrier: just enough room, she thinks, for Lorelai to step over her legs and to depart from the conversation if need be—but not until Ingrid’s words land.

“Okay. Get ready.” A corner of her lip quirks upward, and she rolls her shoulders with the practiced ease of a former athlete psyching up before a competition—not entirely inaccurate, she finds. “Why? Because they prefer to remain sedimentary.” Ever so precise in her delivery, the punchline settles in the air—but she’s a little dissatisfied with it. The joke has diluted somewhere between its escape from her throat to her teeth.

“Get it? A play on sedentary?” Iggy adds. “Because I’m a geological engineer for a living?” Here, she recalls her brief stint at an improv class in Chicago and her YouTube deep dives on stand-up comedy: jokes should rarely be explained, if at all. In her experience, though, experience is a far better teacher, and nothing bruises—and is a better motivation—quite like a failed joke.

But points for trying, right? “Hey, the joke is a marriage of our disciplines.” She says, chuckling. “Talk a lot about a rock and a hard place, huh?” This being the song-and-dance Iggy has done with several women, but damn it, she’s fighting to keep this person in her life. It’s worth risking only a half-baked punchline. Ha, half-baked Baker.

“Guessing you have a lot of grading to do, Professor? Now why don’t I carry that out for you?” Iggy’s hand hovers to the shoulder bag on her desk, where the stack of file folders lie in wait, “It’s only, y’know, polite.”

The halls of Woodside College truly felt like a second home at this point, her tenure, while not as long compared to others, felt too long sometimes, where most of her time was spent in halls that smelled woody and slightly dusty. The students are not glad to be back, this she knows by weary faces and solemn attitudes throughout the course of her day, the way they sigh when she would greet them. She knows there isn’t much enjoyment, not for people who aren’t like her, at least, who would've stayed in school longer, if it was possible, out of higher education, that even when she stood in front of a room full of young adults talking about dinosaurs, they’d rather be somewhere else, partying, likely, or at least spending time with friends. She couldn't truly blame them. All of this, the fancy degrees, are a means to an end. She just hopes that somewhere in the middle of all of that, her classes ignite something in the people she’s teaching. So, that’s why she stands here, despite missing the confines of her home, the comfort of a warm chair and a good book, smiling, ready to teach the masses.

Her lecture is fascinating, the perfect combination of fun and informative. At least, in her professional opinion. Keeping people engaged when the weather is dreary and they'd all rather be in their rooms, asleep. But in this particular lecture, she's the one who is distracted. No, not by the idea of a hot cup of coffee just waiting for her on the other side of the door, or sinking into her couch at the end of a day with a glass of wine, but by Ingrid, her not student, student. Ingrid, who is here simply to learn from her and nothing more, or well, perhaps a little bit something more. Ingrid, who makes the class laugh, and who Lorelai catches herself watching when she shows up to sit in the back of the lecture hall. She tries not to think too much about that.

She's packing up her things, her worn-out mahogany leather shoulder bag sitting atop her desk, she's placing books and papers to grade into their individual file folders when Ingrid approaches and Lorelai tilts her head curiously, raises an eyebrow, and smiles in that fond way she does when Ingrid is asking a question, or telling her a story, or, a joke, like now. She's heard most of them, the dinosaur jokes, you don't go as far as she has in this business without hearing them, but still, she looks at her with rapt attention, ready to, inevitably, laugh.

"I'll bite, what's the punchline?" she asks, seeing (and hearing) the eagerness to reach it that excuses from Ingrid, which makes her just as eager to get to it.

#threads. ingrid #int 01. ingrid & lorelai #//xoxox no problemo bud <33 sry for the length wtf

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terrestrialnoob · 2 years ago

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Strange Friends

Fandom: Danny Phantom, Young Justice (cartoon)

Ships: N/A

Rating: Gen.

Word count: 8,228

Summary:

Being heroes has a negative affect on Danny and Valerie's grades, but luckily, they can sacrifice a weekend with Tetslaff to get their History grades up. A two hour bus ride to Chicago, and they find themselves in an anthropology museum when a nearby robot attack drives everyone outside. Luckily, the local heroes, The Martian Manhunter and his never-before-seen sidekick, are there to save everyone! Or maybe the Martians are the ones who need saving?

Danny and Valerie stepped off the bus in front of the Chicago Museum of Anthropology. The two stuck together mainly because there were only a dozen students there and everyone else were nerds and jocks these two didn’t have the time or patience to deal with. Coach Tetslaff checked the bus for stragglers then shouted at the assembled teens before her.

“Alright, everyone here is in danger of failing history, whether in my class or another teacher’s. So this is your punish- I mean, extra credit opportunity; you’re going to spend your entire weekend here with me. Today, you and your partner are going to choose any exhibit currently on display in the museum and write a report on it. Then tomorrow, you’ll both present your report not only to the class, but also the museum curator Professor Summer Davies.”

She stared out at the unfocused faces that had heard this speech ten times already, then she sighed and continued, “Meet here in front of the museum at 12:50 for the group lunch, if you didn’t sign up for the group meals, you’ll have to go find and pay for your own food. Now, let’s get to it people!”

“Ugh, I can’t believe I have to spend my hard earned weekend doing school work.” Valerie rolled her eyes and glanced at Danny. They’d chosen to sign up as partners on this fieldtrip because Danny knew Valerie would take him seriously and listen to his ideas, and Valerie knew Danny was dependable, despite being a goof, and neither of them would push all the work onto the other.

“Tell me about it,” Danny said as the two made their way into the museum. It was as interesting as most museums are when you’re forced to go instead of choosing to go; Danny would have loved to visit and learn about this stuff any other day, but today it was homework. There was a display on the history of kitchen technology, an intro to forensic anthropology, a collection of Native American musical instruments, and something about the evolution of Victorian house design.

“This should be fascinating,” Danny said, taking notes in a spiral notebook he’d been carrying with him.

“I’m very fascinated by the development of the knife,” Valerie said as she took a photo of some restored kitchen knives that were over a hundred years old when the security guard was turned away.

“I don’t know, they can’t cut ghosts,” Danny teased.

Valerie raised a playful eyebrow at him, “They do when I use them.”

“We both know that’s not how that works,” Danny chuckled and made another note, though, the Forensic Anthropology might be the best option, it was the widest category, and it could be useful with superhero work, two birds - one stone. They had been trying to improve that part of their lives. Valerie and Sam were trying to drag Danny to a workout every day, while Danny was working with Tucker to refine their ghost database and improve their equipment. There had to be something useful they could learn from researching forensic science, even if it was specifically focused on figuring out human history.

Suddenly, there was a loud explosion from outside.

Danny rolled up the notebook and stuck it in his jeans pocket as he and the rest of the students left the building in a group under the shouted orders of Coach Tetslaff. Outside, there was a crowd of scared citizens running past the museum. Danny and Valerie shared a look and, while Tetslaff was distracted by the other students, turned and headed towards the source of the commotion instead of away from it. Barely a block away from the museum, there was a large figure fighting two smaller figures in the air.

Once they got close enough, Danny recognized one of the smaller figures as Martian Manhunter, and another was smaller but very similar in appearance. She looked like a teen girl with Martian green skin, long red hair, a navy blue skirt matching the color of both their capes, and while she wore a white shirt instead of Manhunter’s black body suit, they both had the same red X’s on their chests and gold pins holding their capes (that probably only Danny could see at this distance with his weird ghost eyes). They were clearly working together despite Danny never having heard of Martian Manhunter having a sidekick.

Their enemy looked to be an nine-and-a-half-foot tall robot, with six long spindly arms sticking out from it's extended torso. There were sharp claws on two with arcs of electricity flitting between its fingers, blasters on two others that shot globs of white hot plasma, and the last too were fucking flaming swords. It flew around in the sky about fifteen feet in the air using rockets built into its feet, but it wasn’t a stable floating, the way its rockets were designed, it couldn’t stay still in the air.

“Wow, a real superhero fight!” Danny marveled as he watched, uh, Martian Girl? – sure – as she dodged one of the robot’s plasma blasts.

“And what are we? Fake superheroes?” Valerie shook her head, but watched with deep intrigue as Martian Girl kept the robots attention on her while Martian Manhunter flew up behind it, raising his hands towards it.

Danny could almost see the psychic energy radiating off Martian Manhunter as the robot’s two blaster arms were torn from its body followed quickly by the two claw arms. Then Danny felt more, stronger psychic energy coming from Martian Girl as she turned to face it. The rest of the robot was immediately crushed into a ball of jagged metal and electrical sparks. Danny couldn’t tell if it was because it was stuck between the two Martian’s telekinetic powers or if it was all Martian Girl. But Danny could practically see it, the psychic power rolling off her in waves and hitting the robot along with Martian Manhunter’s power at its back. Looking closely, Martian Manhunter had a lot of control, he could thread a needle with his psychic abilities, but Martian Girl had so much raw psychic energy flowing out of her, it sent shivers down Danny’s spine. It almost lit up his ghost sense, like it was enough emotional energy for him to sense it but not the right type of energy to fully ping for him; it kind of left him wanting his sense to go off to just acknowledge the power the two of them had up there. He glanced at Valerie to see if she felt it too, but no, it was just him.

The Martians lowered to the ground now the robot wasn’t a threat, and Danny heard the girl say, “- didn’t have a mind for us to read, so it’s not like we could have found out what its plan was.”

“There are more ways to get information from an enemy than simply reading their mind,” Manhunter explained, “And if this machine had remained intact, we could have downloaded information from its memory.”

“Oh, hello Megan, of course we could have!” Martian Girl said and facepalmed. “I’m sorry, Uncle J’onn, I shouldn’t have destroyed it like that.”

“Miss Martian,” Martian Manhunter pointedly said, and she meeped and mumbled an apology.

He sighed and said, “You are still new to this. I had years as a m’hontrr before coming to Earth, and more as a private investigator before becoming a superhero. You will learn these things with time and experience.”

Danny glanced over at Valerie, a familiar red glow in her eyes. “See anything useful?”

Valerie sighed, blinking the nanites away from her eyes, “No, there’s too much pollution to get a clear rocket trail, and its power signature isn’t unique enough to stand out.”

“And how would you know that?” Martian Manhunter asked, turning and flying over to them.

“And why are you here? We told everyone to evacuate the area!” Martian Girl said, coming up next to, apparently, her uncle.

“Sorry, it’s my fault,” Danny said rubbing the back of his neck and trying to look embarrassed on purpose, “I wanted to see real superheroes; I just couldn’t help it! You guys are so cool!”

Martian Girl blushed a little herself and tried, and failed, to firmly state, “It was still really dangerous and - you know, shouldn’t do it again.”

“Yes ma’am,” Danny said and gave an over-serious salute. She smiled and nodded at him.

“We should get back to the rest of the class,” Valerie quickly said pushing on Danny’s shoulder, “We don’t want our teacher to get worried about us.”

Danny weaved out from her hand and quickly pulled his notebook out of his pocket, “Actually, real quick. Can we get your autographs?”

Martian Manhunter nodded, and Martian Girl, or Miss Martian as she wrote it, signed her name before handing it over to her uncle to sign as well, and finally back to Danny.

“Good luck on your robot hunt!” Danny called as he dashed to where Valerie was already walking down the street.

Once they got back at the museum, Coach Tetslaff gave them an earful about running off alone during a supervillain attack, they should really know better. The two then learned it was going to be about three hours before the students of Casper High were allowed back into the museum; security needed to do a routine check to make sure nothing was stolen in the confusion. Coach Tetslaff decided the kids could go to the library to get a head start on their projects or go for lunch early, but made it abundantly clear that Dangerous Robot Attacks will not excuse them from doing their reports.

>><<

The boy had felt weird to M’gann. She almost didn’t notice it, after her own guilt of messing up by destroying the robot and the chaos and fear she still felt from both herself and everyone around them at the beginning of the fight. It was odd enough that she hadn’t sensed any fear from either of the two teenagers, but she wasn’t sure what counted as a scary experience for the normal human teenager. It was similar to how the rest of the team was, so maybe this was just something teens on Earth were used to? But her uncle had heard the girl say something strange, and when he and M’gann went to see who had been watching their fight, she’d gotten a strange aura from the boy.

He had dark hair, light skin, and blue eyes, and he wore a white t-shirt with red stylized Saturn-like planet symbol in the center, and normal looking jeans despite the notebook he’d managed to stuff in one of its pockets. Very normal in appearance. But, the unusual thing was that he seemed to put out an aura of – it wasn’t quite emotion, but it wasn’t not emotion – and if it was emotion then it was so extremely raw and concentrated compared to most humans, like there wasn’t anything physical keeping the emotions in, or no, that’s not it. He just wasn’t quite… Solid? Human? No, no. She could see he was definitely solid and human, but there was just something off about him.

And the girl he was with. She wore a yellow tank top and an orange skirt with thick gold bracers on each arm and a red backpack, that seemed off somehow, but M'gann hadn't seen a lot of backpacks yet to be sure. She had dark skin and hair, but her eyes seemed to change color the closer she got and M’gann couldn’t tell if they were a shade of red or brown or green - or somehow switched in between. But she didn’t feel unusual to other humans, no matter how inhumanly her eyes behaved, and who was M'gann to say that human eyes couldn’t change like that?

But then again, Uncle J’onn seemed to have sensed something off too. He psychicly told her that he suspected the two might be involved with the robot, perhaps sent there to observe how easily the Martian duo could dispatch with it. He asked her to follow them to see what they were doing in the city while he tried to find clues off the remains of the robot.

M’gann wasn’t sure if he actually thought the teens were important or if he was just getting her out of the way after her screw-up. While the psychic link was a lot clearer on Earth, there was also an expected level of polite, what she deemed, “not looking”, not just for normal humans, but other psychics as well. She’d learned from the team too, that entering anyone’s mind without express permission and forewarning was not a good thing to do and could even hurt a human, or Kryptonian, who wasn’t expecting it. And Uncle J’onn wanted her to practice vocalizing her words more and only use a psychic link to communicate with other heroes. There were still so many rules she needed to get used to on Earth.

She followed the two humans to The Chicago Museum of Anthropology. She’d gone there with Uncle J’onn for one of her first days on Earth; it gave her a basic understanding of the history of humanity, how the species and society developed on Earth. She’d enjoyed the visit.

She stayed at a distance and morphed into her human form before venturing closer. She watched as they stayed with a group of about twelve high school students under the supervision of a large, muscular woman who liked to give orders. The group of students soon dispersed, apparently they’d come to the museum for a school project but the museum would be temporarily closed.

She quickly hurried to close behind her two targets, she wasn’t going to lose them. This was her first solo mission on Earth, she had already messed up with the robot, she wasn’t going to disappoint her uncle again by letting her targets get lost in a crowd. She got close enough, she herd the boy say, “Did you pay for the provided meals?”

“No. Full offense to Tetslaff, I do not trust her taste in food,” The girl responded.

“Yeah, I bet she’s taking the poor idiots who signed up for it to a sports bar or something,” the boy said and took out his phone, “The restaurant finder app I downloaded so we could find places that were vegan friendly for Sam doesn’t have to be used just for vegans. We can put in whatever kind of food we want and it’ll find something for us.”

“Anything but burgers,” the girl said.

“There’s an amazing pizza place a couple blocks down this street,” M’gann said behind them, and suddenly realized - she was just supposed to be listening this conversation. Hello, Megan! How could you mess this up already!

All three stopped and the two of them turned around to give her funny looks. “Sorry, I was just… uhm… also hungry and trying to think of a place to eat! And I’m – I…”

No, no, you’re making it worse! She panicked and suddenly shouted, “Do you want to be friends with me?”

The two stared at her in shock, then the boy made sure his friend was looking at him before he gripped his hands in the air in front of him. The girl shook her head, raised an eyebrow, and held a hand towards M'gann. The boy nodded and smiled and repeated his hand movements from before and then tapping his thumb and pointer finger together twice and rubbed one hand over the side of the other? Then, for some reason, the girl sighed and nodded.

The boy turned to M'gann and smiled as he said, “I like pizza.”

“Yeah, pizza’s good,” The girl added, dryly, each word, taking effort to but still, becoming less hostile, more friendly. “You live around here?”

M’gann smiled, she wasn’t going to fail. All she had to do was keep an eye on them, right? And it wasn’t like she didn’t want more human friends. “No, but my uncle does. I’ve visited him a couple times now, so I know where some of the good places are. I’m Megan, by the way. Megan Morse.”

The girl looked unimpressed, but held out her hand for M’gann to take. “I’m Valerie and he’s Danny. We’re not from around here either.”

“Oh? Then what brings you to Chicago?” M’gann asked as she shook Valerie’s hand. She used the physical contact as a bridge - a cover to scan the surface level of thoughts in her head without her knowing. There wasn’t anything too bad. Valerie was suspicious of M’gann’s eavesdropping and on guard against her. She didn’t want to trust some random girl who seemed way too friendly, but not wanting to come off as on guard to tip her off to just how suspicious she was. There was something else, she felt Danny was being too trusting? But that did nothing for her instincts. She reminded M’gann of Robin; his mind also raced with worst case scenarios and possible threats and solutions to those threats, even if they weren’t real.

“School trip,” Danny answered not taking M’gann’s offered hand and making her awkwardly have to put it down again. “We have to make a report-presentation-thing on one of the exhibits at the anthropology museum.”

“Oh, yeah, humans are very interesting,” M’gann said before she could stop herself.

“I love those humans and all their humanity,” Danny said with a snort and Valerie elbowed him.

“So, where’s this amazing pizza place?” Valerie asked and M’gann pointed behind them.

“Down a little further, I don’t know if it’s “amazing” amazing, but I like it.”

“Lead the way, M’lady,” Danny said, and motioned for her to walked next to him. He was starting to remind her of Wally, tying a little to hard to make her laugh, but still succeeding.

The three made their way down the street where M’gann had pointed; Danny talked a lot while Valerie watched M’gann with wary eyes. They were from a smaller city called Amity Park, northwest of Chicago and surrounded by a lot of wilderness, near Lake Eerie, with two E’s.

Danny chuckled at his own joke, then asked, “So, did you see that superhero fight? I didn’t know Martian Manhunter had a sidekick, but she seems pretty cool.”

M’gann tried to hide her blush and lie, “I didn’t get a good look at it. It can be pretty dangerous to get too close.”

“What do you know about them? Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian?” Valerie said her first thing since they started walking together.

M’gann thought for a moment about what she could and should say. “I’ve seen them around and heard the news talk about them. I don’t know if she likes being called a sidekick though, I know that other heroes don’t like it. Like Robin and Kid Flash.”

Valerie rolled her eyes, “She’s fighting crime with Martian Manhunter, wearing a matching outfit, and has a matching name all for the purpose of learning how to be a superhero from him, right?”

“Well, I guess so,” M’gann admitted. Is that what a sidekick is? M’gann thought there was a translation issue or something, that it was an insult. Why do Wally and Red Arrow hate it so much?

“Then she’s a sidekick, and there’s nothing wrong with being a sidekick,” Valerie confidently said and M’gann decided that she was right.

“And! It’s a good idea to learn from people who’ve been doing it longer than you and have more experience.” He gave Valerie some kind of look as he continued, “Even if you’re the same age, the extra time spend doing a thing can make one person a lot better at it.”

M'gann understood that, the rest of the Team were way better than she was and all of them are younger than she is.

Valerie raised her eyebrow at Danny, “Even if the newer person does more training than the older one because she actually takes being a hero seriously?”

M’gann looked between the two of them and asked, “I’m sorry, are you still talking about the Martians?”

Danny shook his head, “Sorry, there are heroes in our town too. Phantom, who’s been a hero for over a year and a half now, and Valiant, who’s only just started being a hero.”

“But she’s a better hero even though she’s newer,” Valerie added quickly to Danny’s explanation.

“You think she’s a better hero,” Danny corrected, “But I think she’s still really wild, overly violent, and messes up a lot. Valiant doesn’t have to try to intimidate everyone she thinks is a bad guy, it’s better being friendly sometimes. And Phantom does take it seriously, he’s just having fun while being a hero.”

“Valiant is just driven to get the job done!” Valerie defended, “And Phantom goofs off too much. Not everything needs to be pun, you can just catch the bad guy and be done with it, no jokes necessary.”

“Excuse you, puns are an artform,” Danny said with an overdramatic handwave.

“Oh please,” Valerie said exasperatedly.

M’gann laughed, they really reminded her of Wally and Robin; they must have been best friends for a long time now. They finally reached the pizzeria her uncle had taken her to when they’d had their trip to the anthropology museum. It was a quaint little family run place that was pretty emptied out. It should have been the second half of the lunch rush, but the robot attack must have scared everyone off.

“So, do you know how old she is?” Valerie asked as the three ordered their food.

“Sorry?” M’gann asked, she’d been distracted wondering what was a normal food order for a human. Last time she’s coping Megan’s order from episode 24 , and that was apparently too much food for a normal human teenage girl.

“We were just talking about how it doesn’t matter how old you are,” Danny said, and M’gann couldn’t tell if he was trying to avoid their previous argument or still trying to win.

“She’s the Martian equivalent of a teenager,” M’gann said, but realized halfway through that, a human wouldn’t know that. “Probably.”

Danny looked at her with wide eyes, “Really? So Martians really do age at a different rate than humans? That’s so cool!”

“You might too,” Valerie said under her breath, but Danny ignored it and M’gann didn’t understand what it meant.

“Do you know how long she’s been on earth?” Danny asked with growing excitement as they sat at a booth in the corner; the two of them on one side with her on the other.

M’gann couldn’t resist feeling that same excitement, very few people showed interest in her normal life. “Yeah, about three months!”

“How do y- I mean, does she like it here?” Danny asked, his excitement becoming so strong, M’gann didn’t think anything of his tripping over his words.

“I re- really think she likes it.”

Valerie raised an eyebrow at her, “Why do you think that?”

M’gann floundered for a moment, “Uh, prob- probably because she’s still here. Like, if she could get to Earth, then she could get back to Mars, but she’s chosen to stay.”

Valerie gave her an oddly intense look, “Is that really how you know?”

“I bet she has a lot of friends here,” Danny said, seemingly saving M’gann from answering, before he added, “I mean, you are really friendly and I like you well enough.”

M’gann blushed, “No, no! I’m not…”

“You don’t hide it very well,” Valerie said and M’gann dropped her head in her hands.

“Oh, come on, don't be hard on her!” Danny said and playfully shoved Valerie's arm, “I only knew because you have the same, like, aura as Miss Martian. If you hadn’t come up to us so soon after we met you in costume, I wouldn’t have made the connection. And don’t let Val get to you, she only realized after I pointed it out.”

Valerie glared at him as she pulled her wallet out again and passed some money over to Danny. “I had all the clues though, and would have put it together eventually. Unlike you, I don’t cheat.”

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” M’gann had to ask while peaking between her hands. She can’t believe she messed up this much in one day. Who knew some humans could read Martian auras?

“Of course not! We’re not snitches,” Danny said, and shared a glance at Valerie, who shook her head violently and mouthed the word “no”. Danny shrugged and turned to M’gann to whisper, “We’re actually in a similar situation.”

M’gann blinked at them, and was just about to ask what he meant when there was an explosion. The front wall of the pizzeria was blasted open and a robot that looked exactly like the one they’d seen earlier stepped through the hole. Its featureless face locked onto M’gann; it lifted one of its blasters and shot a ball of hot plasma at them.

All three teens ducked under the table and Valerie asked, “Didn’t you just junk that guy?”

“It must be a new one!” M’gann said as another blast tore through the wall behind them, shattering the plastic table and dropping a pile wall and roof on top of them. A second robot stepped through the new hole in the wall and locked onto M’gann.

M’gann had somehow ended up on top of the rubble, but Danny wasn’t visible and she saw Valerie’s arm sticking out from under a chunk of table for a moment before it gave a thumbs up and was pulled completely under. She did a quick psychic scan the pizzeria, there was only the three of them and the robots in the building. Her eyes glowed red and her skin shifted to Martian green, her face became slightly less human proportioned and her red and white cloths turned into her hero costume. She telekinetically lifted herself from the rubble and motioned to lift the debris off her new friends, but they acted before she could.

Danny, or who she assumed was Danny, phased through the rubble and floated above it. If she hadn’t been looking at his face moments ago, she might not have recognized him. He was the same general size and build, but subtle changes. He had a sharper chin and ears and nose, and even sharper teeth, but he also had bigger, rounder eyes that glowed a toxic green. His hair was the same length, but so pure white, it looked more like mist than strands. His clothes changed too; his t-shirt and jeans had been replaced by a jumpsuit. It was mostly black but with a big white rectangle around the neck that became a little thicker and lest plastic-like as it curved over his shoulders. There were white gloves that reached half way up his forearms, and a pair of white patches on his elbows that looked to be made of the sturdier white material around his shoulders. Thick white lines went from his armpits down the sides of his torso to a white plastic looking utility belt. His boots were white too, coming up to half his calves and having patches of the sturdy white over his knees. There was a hero symbol over his heart, a white P where the long straight side of it looked almost like it was either on fire or fading into mist. Phantom.

At nearly the same time, the rubble shifted and some of the smaller bits flew out in different directions and something that looked like a robot stood up. A black helmet that encircled her entire head with only a red triangular faceplate breaking up the black, except for small lines that seemed to mimic the look of computer circuits that branched off the sold red into the black. The small pattern pulsated red light from a set of red triangles on the center of her chest, one solid while the other was a thin line around it. There, the pattern branched off in all directions, but with specific places where the red energy settled into solid lines that didn’t fade with the pulsing energy. Two solid red triangles on her shoulders, mimicking shoulder pads, and a thick red line around her waist like a belt that had a sharp downward point in the center that echoed the points of the triangles on her chest. There were also red lines around her wrists and calves that made it look like she was wearing gloves and boots. It was like she was covered in a black and red circuit board, but after a moment, the red pulsating glow of the circuitry faded, leaving her in a mostly black armored suit.

M'gann had been distracted by the sudden appearance of these two and was shocked when Danny appeared in front of her, hands raised in a defensive position as a bast of white plasma shattered across a shield of green energy that suddenly surrounded them. There was the sound of a machine powering up and a blast of red energy shot from a blaster that sprung into existence on Valerie’s arm, the red circuitry around it glowing momentarily before fading to black again. The blast hit the robot that shot at them from across the building. Valerie hit the joint of one of its arms, partially melting it and limiting its movement. Two shots hit the shield behind them, as the second robot moved closer to them through the wall leading behind the pizzeria. It reached its electrified claw towards Valerie.

“Look out!” Danny shouted and lowered the shield so he could fire a blast of green energy at the robot reaching for Valerie, causing it to stumble backwards. But she ignored it and fired at the first robot again, hitting the exact same place as last time and melting off its arm completely.

M’gann used her telekinesis to throw the robot that tried to grab Valerie out the hole in the wall it had come through. Danny flew out after it, firing his green energy at it. She followed outside and saw him flying around erratically. She was worried for a moment before she realized, Danny was too fast for the robot to be able to aim its blasters at him, continually firing into the open sky and missing its target. M’gann decided to take advantage of its distraction and telekinetically tore the blaster arms from the robot’s body. It turned its attention towards her and must have seen her as an easier target. It dived for her and she pushed it back with her mind so it stood frozen in air, rockets blasting with greater force trying to break through the invisible wall she’d put in front of it. Suddenly, it was hit with a rain of green energy balls, they burned holes through its outer shell and melted through its electrical insides. Its rockets failed and it crumbled to the ground in pieces.

The two quickly returned inside to find Valerie in the middle of a sword fight. There were melted stumps where the robot’s blaster arms and left claw arm had been melted off, and Valerie was wielding a black sword made of the same material as her suit that glowed with red energy. She was able to block the two flaming swords that bore down on her with the all the artfulness of a poorly rendered video game opponent. But it had one too many arms for her to keep up with and a clawed arm weaved its way through her defenses to grab onto her shoulder. It tried to send an electrical shock into her, but the black suit turned red under its touch as it absorbed the energy. M’gann could actually follow the energy through the suit’s circuitry over to her sword, that glowed brighter and started to melt through the flaming blades it was pressed against.

M'gann decided that was enough of that and threw the robot against the wall with her telekinesis, and regretted it immediately. The clawed hand had been embedded deeper into Valerie than M’gann had realized, and as it flew across the room, it tore through Valerie’s shoulder, taking some of her suit and skin with it. She cried out in pain and turned to look at M’gann who threw her hands over her mouth.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” She quickly hovered over to Valerie, but she didn’t know what to do about the injury. She didn’t have any medic training yet. It was on her list, and there was even a training session for the team planned for it, but she hadn’t done it yet. How was she going to fix this? Valerie had just risked her life to help M’gann and she’d been repaid by getting her shoulder torn up!

“It’s fine,” Valerie said in a such a firm voice it almost convinced M'gann, but it was clear by the way Valerie moved; it wasn't fine but she didn’t want attention drawn to it. Valerie cautiously walked over to the robot, her sword was somehow pulled into her suit and replaced with a blaster that she trained on the downed robot. When it didn’t react to her coming up to it, she placed her hand on it. M’gann could see the red circuit board pattern spread from the red pad of her hand over to the robot like an infection. After a moment Valerie said, “I have a source, and we should go now.”

Danny nodded and asked, “What did you find out?”

>><<

J’onn was worried. He sent M’gann to follow the odd teenagers who had watched their fight with the robot much closer than any sensible person would. He knew teenagers were often unaware of the level of danger around them, especially when famous heroes were present, but there was something strange about these two. The girl had something strange in her eyes, something that glowed and changed color, and the boy - there was simply something wrong about him, something wrong with the way psychic energy moved around him made him seem – less physical somehow, but J’onn couldn’t begin to guess why, what, or how. He sensed no malicious intent from them, if anything, he sensed a strong desire to protect from the boy and a powerful desire to fulfill responsibility from the girl.

He wasn’t sure if M’gann would have been safer following them or staying with him, but this was her first public excursion as his sidekick and he knew for certain that he didn’t want her fighting a robot that seemed tailor made to hurt him. The flaming swords, the hot plasma, the projected electrified field to prevent phasing into them, and no mind to read. The only clues they had were the strange teenagers and a serial number on the hunk of metal that had once been part of the robot. He would trust M’gann not to get too close to the humans or come to him if trouble stirred. She was naive and inexperienced but not an idiot or a pushover. She would keep proper distance, he was sure; reconnaissance was what she was learning with the team after all.

J’onn’s personal computer was patched into a number of databases, and it was a simple task to search for the source of the serial number. It belonged to a robotics company that specialized in custom joint systems. The piece with his serial number had been part of a large order by the Defense Lab of Classified Exobiology, a lab that researched alien life. The D.L.C.E. was a private organization that was owned by a parent company called VladCo. that also owned an advanced technologies development firm, a paranormal research lab, a pop-technologies designing firm, and several other smaller labs and factories, including the company that made the specialized joints. It was an unfortunately common scheme of a company buying from itself to make money; not illegal but shady nonetheless.

J’onn went to the listed address of the D.L.C.E. and found a very normal looking office building. He did a mental sweep of the building but didn’t find anything other than the usual office drudgery. He disguised himself as human, one of his usuals of a white man in a white suit under a beige trench coat and matching fedora, and entered the building. There was a middle-aged woman sitting at the front desk that J’onn didn’t need psychic powers to know was bored.

He pulled out an old police badge and prepared to sweet talk his way past the bored woman. “Excuse me, miss, but I’m from the-”

She didn’t wait for him to finish before pushing a button on a dashboard on her desk, “There’s another goo here for you, Dr. Copen.”

“I told them to give me a few more days!” Dr. Copen seemed to respond from the other side, and then said, “Send them down, I’ll come up with something.”

The woman hummed disbelievingly. She stood up, “Follow me, please.”

J’onn didn’t correct her and followed her down a hall to an elevator bay. She waved her I.D. card in front of a scanner and one of the elevators opened. Once inside, she scanned the I.D. again and the button panel lit up completely before a symbol lit up indicating they were going down. The foundations of the building went deeper than they should have, but eventually, the elevator stopped and they were let out into a large underground laboratory.

A man came up to them in a disheveled lab coat, wild dirty blond hair, circles under his eyes, coffee stains and burn spots on his cloths and arms, a pair of safety goggles pushed up on his head. “Ah, welcome Agent – uh?”

“Operative J,” J’onn provided from the top of the woman’s mind.

“Right, Operative J, sorry, yes, I remember you now.” The man said, “I know I told Director Beta that I’d have results by the end of the week, and while things didn’t go as planned, I assure you, by the end of today, I’ll have something big to show you.”

J’onn scrutinized the man, then probed, “What is this big thing? And why is it worth my time?”

“Yes, Dr. Copen, what have you got?” The woman asked incredulously.

Dr. Copen ignored her as he turned and waved for them to follow, “Earlier today I almost got a subject. The data was inconclusive on why the retrieval unit failed, the hyper connection antenna was damaged somehow before it was able to send any useful information, but I’ve sent out two retrieval units with the same tracking system.”

“Tracking system?”

Dr. Copen grinned and nodded, “Didn’t Director Beta tell you? We got a sample of a an enzyme that’s created when a Martian shapeshifts, we can use it to locate any Martian that has recently changed form, no matter how human they may seem.”

They stopped in front of a large monitor array and the doctor pressed a button and it flickered on. Two robots like the ones that had attacked J’onn and M’gann earlier that day, one with the other in its camera view, they few over the city and started to lower themselves towards … a small pizzeria J’onn recognized.

“Now, so long as whatever interfered with the previous hyper-link connection doesn - uhg…” Just as he said it, and the first robot broke through the front wall of the pizzeria, the camera feed turned filled with static, not receiving a clear image of anything within the building.

“Damn, what is messing with the signal?” The doctor typed furiously at the keyboard under the monitors, there were occasional flashes of clear video.

M’gann was there - and another person in black futuristic armor? There was a clear video, but only of the black armored person shooting the robot to pieces with some kind of arm mounted plasma blaster, before they charged the robot, the blaster somehow being replaced with a sword. After a minute, everything went black. The monitors weren’t off, but they stopped receiving information.

“AGAIN? What are they doing to my retrieval units?” Dr. Copen groaned as he desperately tried to pull data from the robots. He was saving the clearest images of M’gann and the armored person, not enough to identify them, but too close for J’onn’s comfort.

J’onn’s anxiety was increasing, he needed to get to M’gann to make sure she was okay. While the doctor was distracted, J’onn would find a way to destroy the lab. There were plenty of dangerous chemicals lying around; looking back the way they’d come, he saw some large containers with a label warning “oxygen-flammable liquid”. He reached out with his psychic power, only to be suddenly struck in the back of the head and filled with an electric shock. He felt his form revert to its most familiar shape, the form of The Martian Manhunter, the hero he’d created all those years ago.

“Mildred?” Dr. Copen shouted.

“He’s one of them,” The woman said with disgust dripping from the words and a taser pointed at his head.

J’onn’s vision blurred and he felt something latch around his neck. He couldn’t concentrate past the pounding in his head and he couldn’t get to his feet until he felt a hand grab his arm and pull him up. Then he was shoved into a tight confined space, between a wall of glass and a bed of hard metal. Just as he forced control over his movements again, he was suddenly cut off. He could feel his powers being shunted behind a wall, out of reach from him, as energy radiated from the black collar around his neck.

The woman stared in at him, a grimace on her face and the doctor behind her, clearly confused. “Wait, but- My retrieval units? They were just locked onto the Martian signal?”

“There must be two of them,” The woman said, her eyes narrowing and teeth gritting, “It’s multiplied like a cockroach, at this rate, they’ll be crawling all over the place.”

Panic was setting in, not just for the situation he was in, but M’gann was fighting off two Martian Hunting robots by herself, he didn’t know or trust the armored person who could have been working with these people for all he knew. He needed to get out, but without his powers? He was helpless and trapped, and M’gann needed his help! What-

Suddenly, there was an explosion, and the lab filled with thick grey smoke. The black armored person burst from the smoke behind Mildred and slammed her to the ground. Mildred jumped up with the taser discarded for a gun and fired at her assailant, who was apparently bullet proof. J’onn barely caught sight of something glowing green impacting Dr. Copen deeper in the smoke. Suddenly, M’gann was in front of the pod he’d been put in, worry written in her face. She looked around the pod for the way to open it, but she was too panicked.

The grey smoke started turning black and a fire could be seen spreading through the other side of the room. J’onn couldn’t hear what M’gann was saying, but after a moment, there was a boy next to her. He had white hair, green eyes, and a black and white jumpsuit. He phased his hands though the glass front of the pod, grabbed onto J’onn’s clothes, and pulled him through. Once out, J’onn saw M’gann and the person in black (on a flying surfboard?) carry his two captors up through a hole in the ceiling, and the boy flew J’onn out as well.

M'gann and the girl in black left the receptionist and the doctor outside the D.L.C.E. building. The four of them went to the roof of the building across the street from the D.L.C.E. and they watched as first responders put out the fire.

“Thank you,” J’onn said as the boy set him down. It was interesting, the way the boy flew was different from the way J’onn flew. The boy seemed to have gravity simply not affect him vs a Martian's telekinetic flight.

“No problem, Valiant?” The boy said, hovering back and allowing the girl in black to approach him. She reached up and pressed the red pads on her fingers to the black collar around his neck, and after a moment, it clicked and came off.

“Thank you as well,” J’onn said.

“Uncle J’onn, are you okay?” M’gann asked rushing forward for a hug as the girl in black stepped back and examined the collar.

He returned her hug and looked her over, “Yes, and you?”

M’gann smiled broadly, “Yeah, but –“ She looked at the girl, “Are you sure you’re okay, Valiant?”

The girl rolled her shoulder, and when she spoke her voice was slightly distorted through her helmet, “I said it’s fine.”

“Her suit takes care of stuff like that,” The boy said, “It’s a pretty cool piece of technology.”

Valiant, as the boy called her, growled, then sighed. “Now that this is taken care of, we have our other work to do, Phantom.”

“That’s right, you two have to get back to the museum,” M’gann said and smiled at them.

“Is there anything we can assist you with? It would be rude for us to not thank you for your help,” J’onn said, both from honesty and curiosity. He wanted to learn more about these two teenage heroes. They had to be the two from earlier, Phantom had the same somewhat ethereal bend of psychic energy around him as the black haired boy they’d seen earlier.

“Oh, no, we’re literally just here on a school trip. We’re supposed to do our own work,” Phantom supplied. “But, it was super cool meeting you!”

Valiant took a step towards J’onn; he couldn’t see her face through her helmet, but he could feel an intensity radiating from her. She took a deep breath and said, “If you’d like to repay us, then I’d like to make a request.”

Phantom gave her a questioning look, “We don’t need a reward or anything.”

Valiant nodded in agreement, “But we do need training.”

“He’s already got a sidekick! And a pretty cool one, I might add,” Phantom winked and M’gann blushed. "He doesn't need to waste time on us."

“I would not mind an occasional additional tagalong. Though, there are other’s out there who would better suit being your mentors," he glanced over Valiant, "such as experts in human technology, that I can introduce you to.”

J’onn felt the sudden connection of a psychic link, Do you think they could join the Team?

He looked at M’gann and replied, I will speak with Batman about the matter. But there is no guarantee that he will agree to it.

She giggled happily, then pulled a cell phone out of her pocket, “Uncle J’onn just got me this, I’d love to have your numbers, maybe we can team up or have pizza together again sometime?”

Phantom blinked at the two of them, then widely smiled, “That’d be cool!”

There was a second where J’onn saw something in Phantom’s eyes. He ventured a guess, “Did you hear any of that?”

Phantom paused in typing his number into M’gann’s phone, taking a second to process what had been asked and responded with, “Were you talking?”

Phantom went back to typing as J’onn clarified, “You looked at us, each in turn, as we had a psychic conversation.”

“Oh!” Phantom said as he handed the phone to Valiant, “I could tell you were doing something. Like, I felt you using your powers, but I didn’t know what.”

“I see.” J’onn would have to investigate further. If Phantom could sense the use of psychic powers, and it seemed those with psychic powers could sense him, then learning to work together could be an immense advantage when devising countermeasures to either ability. As it stood now, though, J’onn was a little proud. It was hard to get his niece out of her shell; he’d learned from his recent call with his sister that M’gann’s life on Mars had been a hard one, but here she was, making friends remarkably quickly and easily. Even if Batman didn’t agree to them joining the team, even if there wasn’t the possible advantage of training with someone who could sense their psychic abilities, J’onn would keep an eye on his niece’s new friends.

"I'll call you next time I visit Chicago!" M'gann said as they prepared to fly off.

Valiant paused on her hoverboard just over the edge of the building, "I guess you're not too bad. We'll have to bring you down to Amity some time too."

"You'll have to come around a lot actually," Phantom said, "I need you to tell me all about space and Mars and how you got here, and-"

"Okay, space boy, let's get going," Valiant said, grabbing Phantom by the scruff of his jumpsuit.

Then Phantom shout to the heavens as he was being dragged off, "I love having an alien friend! Please text me all the time!"

Yes, J'onn was definitely keeping an eye on these kids.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #danny fenton #valerie gray #m'gann m'orzz #j'onn j'onzz #martian manhunter #miss martian

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redecoratetrees · 2 years ago

Note

A’ight, help a baby clikkie out.

what are like. The top 5 essential tøp live performances/things I should see. (can be more than five idc)

combing through YouTube myself is hard, assume I’ve seen nothing but Icy. Gimme homework vids 💛 ERS intro blew my mind yesterday.

ok so this has taken me a while bc im trying to put together something comprehensive but not excessive. there this playlist that someone made that collects a ton of vessel (and a little rab) bts stuff so like tour diaries, interviews, etc. RAB the webseries is on there and RAB the webseries is rly fun if u like cute behind the scenes stuff. It's also the source of the sampled vocal on the hype, where u can hear tyler say "we're gonna rely pretty heavily on technology and energy to cover up for the fact that we're only two people." which i find cool

theres also a few tour recaps from BF era but my personal favorite is sleepers. they also did some for bandito tour.

Admittedly i dont watch a ton of interviews but the halloween one is very popular and gets referenced a lot. i also just rly like old interviews (second one is pre-josh and also has a live performance that i find rly charming)

and of course my whole thing is "guy with the excessively curated live playlists" so heres just a rundown of my favorite shows of theirs on youtube, why i like, why u shd watch (it got long, i italicized the ones i think are the most "important"):

Twenty One Pilots - Friend, Please Live @ The Battle Of The Bands 10-11-09 - as far as i know the only time theyve played it, this is the oldest video of them on youtube. this guys channel is a treasure trove for old videos.

Twenty one pilots- ode to sleep - that time they played in an apple store. total classic, i just chose ode to sleep bc its my favorite

Twenty One Pilots - Ode To Sleep Live @ The Newport Music Hall 5-27-11 - earliest show i have ever found with josh in the band! from that weird period after the og drummer left but the bassist was still there.

DRUM BATTLE: Twenty One Pilots - Groove Street Fest 2011 - 9.24.2011 - honestly i just have a personal fondness for this video. the idea that wd become the drum island, the guy in orange going ham, tyler drumming, them doing their own gear, its all very small band charming.

UG Studios session "Addict With A Pen" by Twenty One Pilots - in a word: iconic. a ridiculously emotional performance

Skeleton Bones Remain (Gunshot Intro) - twenty | one | pilots - literally just a 20 second intro but it is absolutely legendary. the british voice is named nigel he used to show up more, rip nigel (actually found a video of the intro going into OTS)

twenty one pilots: Heathens & Stressed Out (Live AMA Awards Performance 2016) - when they came out in those full face masks? iconic. twitter was blowing up, it was awesome.

twenty one pilots - Firefly Music Festival 2017 (Full Show) 1080p HD - this particular set is nothing special but its a festival set so its an hq multicam recording of a full set from blurryface era. it's got drumline josh, its got the crowdstand, its got the hamster ball, im pretty sure it has josh vs josh drum battle, all ur rly missing is the iconic (and dearly missed) old song medley, with the coolest B-stage design theyve ever had (yes cooler than bandito fight meeee)

Twenty One Pilots: Live at Lollapalooza Chicago 2019 (Full Show) - festival set for the hits but its trench now! bandito tour b-stage is also an essential tho. first leg they had the skybridge after that they walked thru the crowd.

My favorite shows that dont exist in one video are: vessel release show at basement. they played the whole record, secret show, very cool. and all of tour de columbus, which was when after BF they did a takeover tour style thing but just in columbus. I saw 2 of those and its my biggest flex to this day.

besides shows I wd also check out the MUTEMATH sessions (which i was blessed enough to see some of live! so badass!), this session where he did alt versions of some trench tunes (fought for my life to win tix. i did not win), also the video for the hype berlin is rly cute.

this got kinda lengthy with all the shows, i just love so many of them. I'd also seek out their snl performances if u feel like it, iirc they did ride, stressed out, and heathens, tyler did just the |-/ instead of the full paint on his hands it was sweet.

and to anyone else seeing this PLEASE add if theres anything u think i missed, any random events u remember that were cool, etc. most of what i remember is annoying twitter drama bc i was a teenager for BF

#ask #text #twenty one pilots #so sorry this got so long haha #i am full of useless information esp with this band

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leossmoonn · 4 years ago

Text

Dear Y/n

masterlist

pairing - carl gallagher x fem!reader

type - fluff

note / request - “OMFG FINALLY SOMEONE WRITES FOR RECENT CARL GALLAGHER. Can we get one where the reader is Kev and V’s daughter so they grew up together. And maybe Carl is her secret admirer” so i made debbie and you seniors and carl a junior since he is technically a year younger than debbie. so let’s pretend that debbie stayed in school and carl never went to military school lol, just for the sake of this imagine. enjoy!

summary - you find a note in your locker from a secret admirer and try to figure it out who is your secret admirer

warnings - language

————

*gif isn't mine*

“Hey, girl!” Debbie exclaimed. You looked up from your phone, smiling as you spotted your friend.

“Hey,” you smiled while walking up to her. Your attention when to Franny, who was sitting in her stroller. You crouched down and smiled at the baby.

“Hi, baby. How are you? Do you like going to school with Mommy? You know, some day you’ll be going to school. I’ll be an adult and with kids, too!” You babbled to the baby. Franny squealed and held her hands up to you. You giggled, bopping her nose before going up back to talk to Debbie.

“You’re really good with her,” Debbie complimented.

“Thanks, kids kinda like me,” you giggled.

Debbie rolled her eyes, “Yeah, we know. Anyways, can we hang at your house?”

You two started walking to your guys’s lockers. “Sure. I have to babysit Jems and Ames, though. Mom and Dad don’t get off work until like, midnight.”

Debbie nodded. “Franny can play with them.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded. You unlocked your locker, a piece of paper falling out.

“What’s that?” Debbie asked.

“I don't know,” you muttered, furrowing your brows. You picked up the paper, unfolding it. Your eyes widened as you saw its contents. It read:

Dear Y/n,

I thought your outfit looked really good. Not that your outfits don’t always look good, but today’s my favorite. I really like your jeans and your red shirt. Red really looks good with your eyes.

From,

Secret Admirer

Debbie read the note with you, laughing as she got to the end. “You have a secret admirer!”

You smiled, “Yeah. This is cute. I wonder who it’s from.”

“Maybe it’s from Dean Kepner,” Debbie said, nudging your shoulder teasingly.

You rolled your eyes, “That is the funniest shit I have ever heard.”

“Well, what if it is! I noticed him staring at your shirt today,” Debbie said.

You scoffed, “Yeah, more like staring at my tits. This note said nothing about my tits. It’s probably not him. Plus, I’m pretty sure Dean can’t make compound sentences. He’s worse at speaking than Ames and Jems, and they’re 3 years old.

Debbie chuckled, “True. Well, we should try to figure it out.”

“Eh. It's probably some jackass who wants to get in my head, and then embarrass me because I thought someone liked me,” you said.

“Be more optimistic!” Debbie exclaimed.

“Hm, I will if I get a second note. Let’s go, Jems and Ames are expecting me to pick them up from daycare,” you said. You grabbed a few textbooks and shut your locker. “Is Carl coming home with us?” You asked.

“I think so,” Debbie said. “Alright. Where is he?” You asked.

“Probably making out with some slut in the bathrooms,” Debbie said.

“Probably,” you snorted.

You and Debbie walked to the nearest bathroom, peeking behind the corner to see if you could hear any noise. Surprisingly, it was quiet.

“What are you guys doing?”

You both jumped, turning around and seeing a confused Carl behind you.

Carl was Debbie’s little brother. They were both Gallagher’s. They were children of the alcoholic and drug addict Frank and Monica. They lived on the South Side of Chicago, which was where you also lived.

You were Y/n Ball. Daughter of Veronica Fisher and Kevin Ball. You had lived next to the Gallagher’s all your life. You were their best friend. Well, their only best friend, really. Your mom and their older sister, Fiona, had been friends since forever. You had been born around the same time as Debbie, who was the third oldest out of the 6 Gallagher children, so you two have been basically best friends since birth. Carl was also one of the Gallagher kids you were also the close with, too, him being just a year younger than you. You three had basically grown up together, so being best friends was pretty natural.

“We were seeing if you were fucking anyone,” Debbie answered.

Carl scrunched his face up in disgust. “I don’t do that.”

You laughed, “Sure you don’t. C’mon, C-Dog, I gotta pick up the little missies.”

“Alright, Y/n/n,” Carl smiled at the nickname you had given him ever since you two had gotten closer.

You two hadn’t always been close before. Debbie and you were by far the closest, with being in the same grade and all. You and Carl hung out a lot, but it wasn’t really until he started high school when you two actually hung out one-on-one. He had come to you for relationship advice when he was dating this one girl, Dominique, who turned out to be a horrible person. You two have since bonded about your past, failed relationships, and how shitty life is.

Since getting closer with him, you had kind of developed a little crush on him. He had always been cute, but when puberty hit him, he became really hot, really quick. You never showed any other feelings for him than platonic, though. You didn’t want to deal with all the drama that it would bring between you and your families.

“Stop eye-fucking each other, please,” Debbie groaned, walking away from you two.

You rolled your eyes, “Like you should talk. Every guy you meet you imagine sleeping with them.”

“Not true!” Debbie defended herself.

“Yeah, right. That’s why you have a baby,” Carl joked.

“You guys are so mean,” Debbie muttered.

“That one was pretty mean, but at least it didn’t come from me,” you smiled.

“Yeah, it came from the asshole who got circumcised for a girl,” Debbie laughed.

You laughed with her, Carl rolling his eyes and blushing. He looked to you and noticed a piece of paper peeking out from your jeans.

“What's that?” He asked and pointed.

“Oh, it’s a note that someone gave me,” you said. You took it out and gave it to Carl. He opened it and read it.

“This is nice,” he said.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cute,” you agreed. He handed you the note back. “Who do you think it is?”

“I don’t know, honestly. I’m kind of thinking it’s a joke, so I wanna wait till I get another one,” you said, folding it back into your pocket.

“I think it’s Dean Kepner,” Debbie stated. You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, you're the only one.”

“Is that the popular football guy? In your grade?” Carl asked.

“Yep. He’s so hot,” Debbie sighed dreamily.

“I don’t think so,” you stated.

Carl looked at you and nodded. “Yeah, I heard he does hard drugs.”

“Yeah, another reason why I don’t fuck with him. I mean, I have a beer every other night, but never am I gonna do drugs. That shit messes you up,” you sighed.

“Yeah, we know. We had Monica as our mother,” Debbie said.

You chuckled, walking over to your car. You got in the driver seat, Carl sitting in the passengers. Debbie usually sat there, but since she has a baby, you told her it wasn’t safe to put Franny in the passenger seat, especially since if the even of an accident, the airbag goes off and hurts Franny.

You drove to daycare, humming songs from the radio while doing so. While you were driving, Carl couldn’t help but stare between your face and the note in your pocket. You didn’t know, but the person who wrote you the note was him.

Carl was usually pretty confident and outgoing. All of his family like that. You had to do that to survive the South Side. But when it came to you, he was like jello. He didn’t know how to act, speak, whether he could look at you two seconds longer than normal. You never noticed his behaviour change, though. To you, he was always quiet and low-key. He was thankful that he never questioned why he was so quiet around you, especially since he was a loud, annoying kid when he was younger.

With these notes, he would be able to say what he was afraid to say to your face. He didn’t want to face rejection, especially by the pretty senior girl that had lived next to him since the day he was born. It would be awkward if you did reject him, so he just kept quiet until maybe he worked up the courage to ask you out depending on wether you liked the notes or not.

You parked in a handicap parking spot. “Alright, one of you wanna go and help me get Ames and Jems?” You asked.

“Carl, can you do it, I wanna stay with Franny,” Debbie said.

“Yeah, sure,” Carl nodded. He got out of the car with you, walking into the daycare.

You walked up to front desk. “Hi, I’m here for Amy and Jemma Ball. I'm their older sister, Y/n,” you said.

“Alright, can I see ID?” The woman asked.

You nodded and got your wallet out of your back pocket. You handed her your ID. She handed it back to you.

“Alright, go ahead and head in,” she said.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

She hummed a ‘you’re welcome’ as you and Carl went into the play room.

“Why do you have to give her your ID?” Carl asked.

“I think it’s because she’s new, and also I didn’t drop them off this morning. They wanna make sure no one kidnaps children,” you explained.

Carl nodded. “Ah, makes sense.”

“Yeah, the usual woman here, Julie, moved to Florida. She always gave me and the girls a mint when we left, and never asked for my ID,” you said.

“Wow, she sounds cool,” Carl said.

“Yep, she was,” you smiled.

You walked into the room, spotting Jemma and Amy immediately. They spotted you two, smiling and running up to you.

“Hi, babes!” You exclaimed, crouching down and catching them in your arms.

“Hi, Y/n!” They both squealed.

“Ready to go home?” You asked.

They both nodded.

“Alright. Let me go get your stuff, hang out with Uncle Carl for a few minutes, okay?” You said.

“Okay,” Jemma said.

You walked over to their cubby, grabbing their baby bags. You went back over to Carl, taking a hold of both of the girls’s hands.

“Let’s go, babes,” you said.

“I’m hungry!” Amy exclaimed.

“I’ll get you a snack when we get home, alright?” You asked.

Amy nodded, smiling excitedly. You smiled at her, looking up to see Carl opening the door for you.

“Thanks,” you smiled at him.

“No problem,” he nodded and followed behind you. You put the girls in the backseat with Debbie, unloading their bags in the trunk. You got in the front seat, starting the car.

“Do you want to be dropped off at your house or stay with us at my place?” You asked Carl.

“I'll hang with you guys,” Carl said.

You nodded, “Sounds good.”

You drove back home, parking the car on the side. You unlocked the front door, immediately dropping all the bags you had. You slumped on the couch, taking a breather.

“Can we have a snack?” Jemma asked.

“Oh, yeah, right,” you said, getting up. “You guys want some fruit snacks?” “Yeah!” Amy exclaimed.

You nodded, going to the pantry and getting two packs of fruit snacks for each of them. You led them back to the couch, turning on the tv.

“Watch TV with Franny, okay? Sissy has to do homework,” you said.

The twins nodded, looking at Paw Patrol, which was what was playing. You went to the kitchen table, unloading your backpack.

“You’re really good at taking care of them,” Carl said, sitting next to you.

You smiled, “Thanks. Mom and Dad do a lot, but since they are a little older and so am I, they let me have more responsibility. They have to work and stuff to make sure we can afford everything. I’d like to say I’m an expert at taking care of Amy and Jemma.”

Carl chuckled, “Yeah, I couldn’t imagine taking care of a kid.”

“Well, you have been taking care of Liam since he was born, right?” You asked.

Carl shrugged, “I guess.”

“Taking care of kids is easy if you like them,” you shrugged.

“Makes sense,” he said.

You hummed.

“So, are you waiting for another note?” Carl asked.

“Hm, kind of, yeah. I would be lying if I didn’t say I hoped this will turn into some cute, romantic love story with someone,” you chuckled.

Carl blushed a little, focusing on his own homework. “Yeah, that’d be nice.

————

“Yeah, Mom, I got it. No problem, see you later,” you said, hanging up the call. You sighed, walking slowly to your locker.

Your mom had just called you to come to the Alibi to help out since business was buzzing. Word was, Frank was up to one of his schemes again and got the Alibi full and drunk. You couldn’t wait to deal with perky, 50 year-old men catcalling you. You were wearing a sweatshirt, too, which you knew would make it worse since the men always would try to have you take it off, and never stopped pushing. Luckily, you had pepper spray with you at all times so if someone ever got too much, you wouldn’t hesitate to spray them.

You opened your locker, putting away a few binders when you noticed another note. You grabbed it, unfolding it with a hint of excitement. You would be lying if you said you hadn't been looking forward to this all day.

You opened the note, smiling widely as its contents.

Dear Y/n,

Your makeup looks amazing today. You’re really talented with the eyeliner and stuff. Oh, and your lipstick matches really well with your outfit, too.

From, Secret Admirer

“Another note, huh?” Debbie said, approaching you.

You smiled and nodded. “Yep.”

“What's that?” Carl asked.

“Another note from Y/n’s admirer,” Debbie smiled.

Carl flushed a little. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I hope this is for real. I want to meet this person.”

“Maybe you will,” Carl said. You looked to him, a worried expression settling on your face.

“You okay, C-Dog?” You asked.

“Yeah. I’m gonna catch the bus. See you guys later,” he said, walking off quickly.

You furrowed your brows. “What's got his dick in a twist?”

“I have no idea. Maybe he likes you,” Debbie smirked.

Your heart fluttered a little at the thought of him liking you. Debbie knew you liked Carl, so maybe she was fucking with you, but you had to ask to be sure.

“Does he?”

“I think,” Debbie said.

“Oh,” you muttered. “Cool,” you smiled.

You weren’t going to confront him just yet, but you prayed to God your secret admirer was Carl.

————

“Hey, there’s something for you in the mail,” Veronica said.

You furrowed your brows. “Who’s it from?”

“It doesn’t have a name,” Veronica said, hanging you an envelope. “It just has your name on it.”

“Huh,” you said, taking the envelope. You tore it open, your eyes widening as you saw another note it in.

“What is it?” Kevin asked.

“A note,” you said. “From my secret admirer.”

“You have a secret admirer! Wow,” Kevin said.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. You sat on the couch, opening the note.

Dear Y/n,

I thought you looked really pretty today. I hope you don’t find it weird I mailed this to your house, I actually live close to you, so I saw you crossing the street today. Anyways, I just thought I would let you know you look pretty.

From,

Secret Admirer

You found yourself giggling, setting the note down. Even though you were flattered, you found it a little weird this person knew where you lived, even if they supposedly lived near. You didn’t know why they couldn’t just tell you all these things in person.

“What does it say?” Veronica asked.

“The note calls me pretty,” you said, putting it back in its envelope.

“Hm, well, whoever this is isn’t wrong,” Veronica grinned. “Do you have any idea who it is?”

You sighed, “Nope. It says they live close to me, though.”

“Maybe it’s one of the Gallagher’s,” Kevin suggested.

Your eyes went wide, remembering what Debbie had said to a few days ago when you got the second note. You shook your head, though. Carl was out with his friends right now, you had just left his house, too, and there was no sign of him.

“Nah, no offence to them, none of them are this romantic or anything. Well, except Ian, but he’s gay,” you said.

“Maybe ask about it, though? All of our other neighbours are old men, and that does not look like old man handwriting,” Veronica said.

“Maybe I will. I mean, Debbie said Carl liked me, and when I got the second note, Carl was acting all weird and shit,” you said.

Veronica eyes widened. “Carl?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I don’t care if it's him, though, it'd be kind of weird.”

Veronica sat down on the couch next to you. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Kind of,” you said sheepishly.

“Well, I think you should ask him about it. If he says no, then don’t mention your feelings for him. If he says yes the notes are from him, then confess,” Veronica said.

“Should I do that?” You asked.

“I think so, baby. Carl’s a good kid, especially with you around. I wouldn’t have a problem with you two dating.”

You smiled, “Thanks, Mom. I’ll go to his place tomorrow.”

“My baby is about to get a boyfriend!” Kevin whooped. “If he hurts you, I will kill him.”

You chuckled, “Thanks, Dad.”

————

You walked into the Gallagher’s house, spotting Fiona in the kitchen.

“Hey, Fi,” you smiled.

“Hey, Y/n! Are you here fo Debbie? She went out,” Fiona said.

“No, actually. I’m here for Carl,” you said.

“Oh, okay. Well, he’s upstairs,” Fiona said.

“Thanks, Fi,” you smiled and made your way up to Carl’s room. You saw that the door was wide open.

You went in, not seeing Carl anywhere.

Where is he? You thought.

You went around his room, walking around the room. His room was ridiculously messy. Clothes everywhere, food and plates all over the dresser, weird liquid on the floor. You chuckled to yourself as you had to step over the puddle.

“Boys are horrific,” you muttered to yourself.

You went to the desk, sitting down in the desk chair. You looked around on the desk, seeing court date papers, old homework, and cigarette boxes. As you looked more to your right, something had caught your eye. There was a paper with your name on it on the back.

You picked it up hesitantly, slowly unfolding it. Your eyes widened as you saw the words “Dear Y/n”. You knew you shouldn't, but you went ahead and read it anyways. You just wanted to make sure you were correct of your suspicions.

Dear Y/n,

After these few weeks, I have decided to try and be brave and go up to ask you out. I think you’re really pretty and you’re so funny and nice. I’ve liked you since I started high school, and even if I get rejected, I know I would regret not trying to ask you out. So, I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date?

From,

Secret Admirer, aka Carl (Gallagher)

“Y/n?” You snapped your head back, seeing Carl in a towel. Your eyes quickly ran past his chest, seeing the toned muscles in his arms and stomach. You eyes went up to his face, lingering on his lips. You then went up to his eyes, seeing them wide and filled with wonder.

“Sorry, I’ll, uh, go,” you muttered and stood up, leaving the note on the desk.

“What?” Carl asked. He was beyond confused, but when he saw you and the note, he put the pieces together. As you went to walk out of his room, he grabbed your arm, pulling you back gently so you two were face-to-face.

“Did read the note?” He asked.

You looked up at him sheepishly, “Yeah, I’m sorry for invading your privacy.”

Carl sighed, “It’s alright. I’m, uh, sorry if I wasn't who you were expecting or anything. I know I’m probably not the person you like or anything, but I just wanted to try and see if you liked me. Ian and Lip said that was a cute idea, the notes.”

Your eyes lit up with he voiced his concerns. Your lips upturned into a smile, your eyes staring into his.

“Carl, I like you, too,” you said.

Carl’s eyes widened. “Wha-what?”

You took his hands in yours. “It was a cute idea. And I’ve liked you for the last 3 years, too. I was hoping it was you, actually.”

Carl blushed, a big smile appearing on his face. “Really?” “Yep,” you nodded.

“Awesome!” Carl chuckled. “So, do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Yeah, I’d love to,” you smiled.

“Cool,” he smiled. “Well, I need to get dressed. You can stay and watch if you want,” he smirked.

You giggled at his words. “Don’t mind if I do.”

————

this was trash i am sorry

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fighterkimburgess · 3 years ago

Text

This Wasn’t Supposed To Happen Chapter 17 - Too Little Too Late

Summary: Kelly appeals to Sylvie, who tries to stay mostly strong. Series Masterlist Here

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: pregnancy

AN: It’s been a while, but you all know how burnt out I’ve been. This fic is getting finished, and I’m planning on updating weekly on Thursday till it’s done!

Wanna join my taglist?

—

When Sylvie picked Andy up and got home her mind was spinning, confused and anxious about what Kelly returning meant. But apart from that, she was completely hurt by him not telling her.

If he was so determined to tell her he was moving back he could have said it. Yes she’d blown him off at the door, but she was convinced that he wanted to talk about their night together. So she stayed at the condo, playing with Andy and napping when he napped. Her exhaustion was hitting hard, and as she’d learned pregnancy wasn’t a picnic.

She stared at her abdomen in the mirror, running her hand over the small bump that had appeared. To most it would probably look like she was bloated, but Sylvie knew the truth. It was firm to the touch, Sylvie staring at it in awe. She was actually having this baby.

When she served Andy his lunch there was a knock on the door. Sylvie had a sneaking suspicion that she knew who it would be, and was proven correct when Kelly was standing there with a bunch of flowers and a toy in his hands.

“Hey, I thought we should talk.”

“Sounds good.”

Sylvie let him in, Andy immediately reaching for Kelly as soon as he saw him.

“Dada! Hiii Dada. Up?” He looked at Sylvie and back to Kelly, shoving a piece of strawberry into his mouth.

“I can feed him while I hold him if that’s ok?”

“Yeah, you can.” It was stilted between them as they sat on the couch opposite each other. Andy was in Kelly’s arms, munching on the food he was handed and snuggled up with his dad. A couple of weeks ago it’d have filled Sylvie with glee, but now it just made her sad.

Part of her wanted to tell him about their baby but she couldn’t do it yet. He’d walked away so many times before that she couldn’t bear to lose him again. And if he didn’t walk away after finding out about this new child then it’d make her hate him because he’d been able to walk away from Andy.

“I wanted to tell you before your shift that I was moving back. I want to work out how we can work custody of Andy.”

“When did you decide to move back?” The words came out more harshly than Sylvie intended, but she needed to know.

“When I saw you at the wedding. I’d pretty much planned on it anyway, but seeing you then…you and Andy are my family. I fu-screwed up. Again. But I want to make it right.” He stared over at her and Sylvie shook her head, looking across at him.

“You left. You walked away and left a screaming baby and a crying me in the airport. Why should I believe you won’t do it again?”

It was silent between them after Sylvie spoke, Kelly staring down at Andy until she spoke again.

“Do you believe you won’t do it again?”

“I don’t know.”

It broke Sylvie’s heart to hear, but it helped her to hear it. That knowledge solidified everything in her head, that he didn’t need to know. He could live his life and when she announced she’d tell him it wasn’t his baby. The realisation sat between them like a brick wall.

“I love you.” His voice cracked on the love, Sylvie looking across at a face filled with pain.

“It’s too little, too late, Kelly. You left us. That’s not love. You said you couldn’t stay in Chicago anymore. I don’t want Andy thinking you’re going to be here and gone. It’s not fair on him. We can work out visitation, but no overnights for a while. I don’t want him to get attached again.”

“I’m gonna prove myself.”

“I want to believe you. Maybe I’ll be able to in the future. I’ve some stuff to do, you can spend time with him while I do it.”

She sat on the side of her bed, staring at herself in the mirror. Just a week ago she’d have been delighted by this, would have welcomed him back with open arms. But they’d slept together and he’d said nothing. He’d just appeared. And sure she left without saying a word but he had her phone number. He could have gotten in touch with her. Instead of doing the cleaning she should have done she lay in bed with her ears pricked to listen for Andy. It was all quiet, and she actually managed to get some sleep.

The next two shifts passed quietly, Sylvie staying away from Kelly whenever she could. It felt like they were back just after their divorce, desperate to keep apart. The one thing that hurt was that keeping her distance meant she’d stopped talking to the squad guys. She’d been used to sitting with them at the squad table on the app floor, Capp giving her his chair for a nap if she needed it. But now Kelly was constantly at the table and she couldn’t bear to be near him. It was on the couch with Mouch and Pouch, the dog’s head on her lap, or at one of the tables chatting to everyone as she did paperwork. Violet started doing what she could by filling out forms so Sylvie just had to sign in preparation for when she’d be PIC to take over.

It was one of those afternoons, engine and truck out at a call that Capp came inside to start dinner. But he slid into the seat opposite her, Sylvie glancing up at him.

“Hey, how’re you doing?” She asked, a small smile on her face.

“Good, good. How’s my favourite kid?”

He had an easy smile, the room empty around them. Sylvie couldn’t help but relax with him there. “He’s good. Talking up a storm, it’s fun to see him growing. You know you can come over to see him, right?

“I know, but still. We miss you around the table, if you want a nap you know you can have my chair.”

“I can’t.” Capp looked at her, Sylvie shaking her head softly. “He left. And then he came back and Andy’s happy so I have to pretend it’s fine, but it’s not. None of it is fine. I can’t trust him anymore. So I need to spend as little time as possible around him. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, I get it. Not fully, I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But we miss you. And you know we’ll probably pick you over him if we have to.” It made Sylvie laugh, the first true one she’d had since all of this began.

“Your team needs to be strong. It’s fine, really. We’ll get through it.”

“If you’re sure.” He stood, staring at her closely. “I’m doing burgers for dinner, sound good?”

“Definitely.”

When everyone arrived back they all sat and ate, conversation spreading through the common room. Sylvie realised that her friends had created a buffer between her and Kelly, something that warmed her heart. Violet and Stella sat around her, Mouch and Herrmann starting the Truck crew sitting there then os there was at least four seats between them. She could relax slightly knowing they were there, and even when her stomach roiled and she had to run to the bathroom those who knew about her pregnancy kept it to themselves.

When the shift was over she caught up to Kelly in the locker room, steeling her nerves. He was surprised to hear her call his name and walk towards her, standing up.

“Syl?”

“I’ve got an appointment. I was going to bring Andy with me but if you want to spend the time with him and I can pick him up later?”

“Are you sure?” His was clearly shocked, jaw slightly agape as it hit him.

“Yeah, if you’ve got the time. I know it’s last minute.”

“No, definitely. Thank you. I can bring him to the lake and then to my place? The weather’s nice, we can have a dad and Andy day.”

“That sounds really nice.” The excitement was clear and Sylvie wanted to blurt out where she was going, ask him to come to her OB. But she had time to tell him what was going on.

“Where are you going? Want a ride?”

“Just the doctor, I’ve got a checkup. It’s all fine. Thanks for the offer.”

“Any time. I’ll text you my address and you can come by after.”

The drive to Med wasn’t long, Sylvie pulling into a parking spot and staring across the lot. Her hand was on her belly, rubbing a slow circle into it.

“It’s you and me, kiddo. You and me. Ready?” The lack of response was expected and she stood out and walked in, a nod to people she knew. It was ignoring the oh too familiar waiting room where they’d gotten the news about Matt, walking down the hallway that led to the NICU but this time hoping that this child of hers wouldn’t have to spend any time in it. She’d spent enough time in there.

When she was called into the scan room she got onto the bed, lifting her shirt up and lying there while the tech did her job. It didn’t take long for the baby to appear on the screen, the head and limbs clear.

“Here’s your baby, Ms Brett.” A switch was flipped and the noise of her baby’s heartbeat filled the room, Sylvie staring at the rapid movement on the screen.

“That’s normal?”

“Completely normal. We’ve got a strong heartbeat here. Do you want some photos?”

She got the printouts, staring at them in shock. It was real. It was all so, so real and she was having Kelly’s baby and Andy was going to be a big brother. It was scary and worrying, but that sense of peace ran through her. This would be fine. She’d be able to have this baby and look after them and Andy.

She knew she had to tell Kelly about their child. The coward’s way out would be to insist it wasn’t his child, but she knew better than to do that to herself. He deserved better than that. Their baby deserved better than that. But sitting in the OB’s office she had no idea how to tell him. And she couldn’t tell everyone at work until she told him.

The OB was nice, giving Sylvie all the information she needed about the baby and how things were progressing. She was on track and able to stay on ambo until twenty weeks, but she was to be careful picking Andy up now. It was a trade off she didn’t want to have to make, but she’d do what was needed to keep both her children safe. Leaving the office she got a prescription for prenatal vitamins and a pamphlet on what was and wasn’t safe to eat and do for the rest of her pregnancy. It got stuffed into the bottom of her bag, the sonogram photos carefully zipped into a pocket until she saw Stella and Violet and could share them with them.

Kelly’s apartment was a one bed, and he welcomed her in with a smile. Andy was on the floor playing with blocks, waving as she came in and sat on the couch. It was quiet between them as they just watched him, the tv on in the background for noise more than anything else. Sylvie’s stomach did the familiar “you have a minute to get to a bathroom” grumble, and she sat up straighter.

“Can I use the restroom?” She asked, Kelly nodding.

“Yeah, it’s through the bedroom. Ignore the mess.”

“I will.” She hurried in, praying to the porcelain god quietly and hoping that Kelly didn’t hear her. The running tap gave her some cover, and she used some mouthwash to make things easier for her.

Leaving the bathroom she looked around the room, the boxes cluttered in a corner. It was just like Kelly’s room when he lived with Matt and Gabby, dark colours and little decor. But a familiar silver band caught her attention, Sylvie stepping quietly across.

Kelly’s wedding ring was on his nightstand, the silver shining in the dim light. It looked exactly like when they’d bought it nearly two years before rather than something that sat in a drawer for that time. The memories flooded her, and mixed with the pregnancy hormones she could feel tears beginning to prick her eyes. She couldn’t think like this. She couldn’t hold out hope, she couldn’t have a dream. He’d stomped on her heart too many times, and the last thing she could do was give him another chance to do it again. Platonic co-parents. Whatever arrangement they had for Andy would work for this new baby. It had to.

Wiping her eyes before leaving the room Sylvie came out, Andy toddling straight over to her.

“Hiiii Mama!”

“Hi Baby! Did you have fun with Daddy?”

“Dada!” He curled into her, Sylvie inhaling the scent of his shampoo and luxuriating in the tiny chubby arms around her neck.

“We’ve got to go, he needs his nap and I need one too.” Kelly picked up everything, handing the bag over to Sylvie before speaking.

“Your appointment ok?”

“Yeah, fine. Just a checkup so nothing to worry about.” She paused for a moment before looking across at him. “We need to talk. About everything. After next shift can we get breakfast? Cindy can keep Andy a little longer, we can talk about what’s happened and is happening.”

“Yeah, sounds good. We need to clear the air. I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

She watched as Kelly kissed the top of Andy’s head, the two looking at each other as if they were awkward teenagers. But Sylvie left, strapping Andy into his seat and driving home. She had 72 hours to prepare to tell Kelly Severide he was going to be a dad, and she didn’t even know where to start.

Sylveride taglist: @sylvieecasey @thewannabewriter @andycasey06 @brockreynolds @cynthia1guardia @oracle23 @kellykidd @averyhotchner @dedlund82 @waywardhunter @farfarawaygirl @brookerz122493 @tvshowsaremyhappyplace @smileswithgrace @an93la @withakindheartx @bebataylor84 @angelsjedi @tysonjost-taylorsversion

#Sylveride #Sylvie Brett x Kelly severide #Kelly severide x Sylvie Brett #Sylvie Brett #Kelly severide

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thestarrynightslover · 4 years ago

Text

How to Say I Love You

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,582

Warnings: Smut implied.

Summary: One day, Jay takes it upon himself to be an extra-cute boyfriend. The reason? It takes (y/n) a while to find out.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Posting super late because the day was hard. So, just some more Jay fluff to brighten our days. Hope you like it!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

As soon as you woke up, you felt light kisses being pressed to all of your very exposed skin, and an inevitable smile came to your lips.

“Good morning, princess.” Jay whispered in your ear with a husky voice.

“Good morning for you too, baby.” You answered him while bringing his face closer to yours. On that movement, before you could kiss him, you caught a glance of your bedside clock. “Oh my God, Jay! Look at the time! I thought we’d agreed to get as much sleep as we could after last night!” You quickly reprehended him. “Or have you forgotten that both of us still have to go to work today?” You asked, trying to sound annoyed at him when the most you managed to do was breathe out was a moan, as he nibbed your earlobe.

“Oh, I know how much you like sleeping, babygirl. But I know that there are a few things you’d give up your sleep for.” He stated in a very sexy tone.

“And what exactly makes you think that you’re one of those things?” You teased your boyfriend, hoping he’d respond to it like you thought he would.

“Ah, just a little something,” he teased back while slowly putting his hand between your legs, not even bothering to lift the hem of the shirt you were wearing, “like this.”

“Oh, Jay…” And, just like that, you were completely fine with waking up early.

---

Throughout the day, you just couldn’t keep the smile off your face, as your boyfriend took it upon himself to be the cutest person in the world. Why? You had no idea. All you knew was that he'd gotten the day off but, since you couldn't the same, he'd decided to go to work nonetheless.

His romantics for no apparent reason started with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a note that read:

“Will you be my lunch date today? *blinking face*

P.S.: 12:00 - 13:00 is all I have. Sorry, doll :(

Meet me at our spot?

⎼ Your bae.”

He used bae. If he wasn’t so cute, and if you didn’t love him so much, you would have cringed at the choice, and he knew it. Ah, that man...

A few hours after that, you went to meet Jay for lunch at your spot ⎼ which was one of the benches along the Riverwalk, where you’d first met ⎼, absolutely decided on calling him out for being so mushy. But, as you walked closer towards him, you could see that your boyfriend was holding a picnic basket in one hand, and a bottle of champagne in the other, and, as corny as that was, you couldn’t help but grin.

“Drinking on duty now, detective?” You asked, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Nope. This one’s without alcohol. And, trust me, you’ll like it.” He told you, a sweet smile on his lips.

“Hum, maybe... But I wouldn’t really mind if it was bad either.” You half-whispered at Jay.

“Oh no?” He asked you with a smirk this time.

“No. The company makes up for anything else.” You said while moving to kiss him.

“Geez, babe, you're such a dork!" He said, making fun of you after the kiss was over.

"Really? That's what you're going with?" You, the dork? Big joke.

"What else can I say if it's the truth?" Jay asked you through his lashes, an innocent expression in-face.

"Look who's talking!" You said while rolling your eyes.

Not long after that, he put an end to your little banter. Saying that he didn't wanna spend another second of the few moments the two of you had until the evening arguing was an understatement. You agreed, even though you knew that both of you secretly enjoyed the bickerings as well as you did everything else.

Later, on that same day, when you were about to leave work, you decided to call your boyfriend.

"Hey, babe." He answered, on the fourth ring, voice letting on some tiredness.

"Hey there, handsome! I'm already leaving work, think I’mma go swim a little. Unless… There's a chance you're getting off a little earlier yourself?" You tried your luck, thinking about making him relax a little before you two left for dinner.

"Uh… Sorry, babe, I don't think I'll be able to." A deep sigh. Something was wrong.

"Jay. Is everything okay?" Another sigh. Shit.

"It's nothing for you to worry about, baby. Just a pain-in-the-ass case we can't seem to solve. When all I wanted to do was be home with you." He confessed.

"Huh. Now, tell me, who's the dork?" You heard his muffled laugh over the phone.

"I am. You know it. I know it. Everyone who knows us knows it." At that, you were the one who giggled. "And, believe me, I bear the title with pride." More laughing, from both of you this time.

"Okay, then… So, um, is there anything I can do? Maybe we cancel that dinner reservation?"

"No! No, not at all! You just… Go do your swimming and don't worry about me, okay?" Jay sounded a bit weird this time, but you brushed it off, thinking that it was just the stress of the day.

"Okay…" You replied, still unconvinced.

"Alright, I gotta go now. Love you."

"Okay, bye. Love you too. Be safe!"

"Always, baby." With that, he hung up quickly, which he never did ⎼ always dragging the conversations for as long as he could. But, once again, you decided to do what your boyfriend told you to and not worry about it.

It was already a bit into the evening and you were stretching your body to leave the swimming pool, when you saw him. Jay. So you got out and walked over to him.

"Fancy meeting you here, miss (y/l/n)." He greeted innocently.

"Well, this is a surprise. Yet another one. On the same day." You said, just to let him know that his weird behaviors weren't going by unnoticed.

"Ah, you know what they say… Gotta keep the relationship interesting!" Ha, ha. He was up to something. So you just gave him a suspicious look. To which he answered with a huge smile, saying: "What?"

"Nothing. Nothing besides the fact that you're up to something. What is it?"

"Oh. My. God." Jay said emphatically, faking offense. "I'm offended. You think that poorly of me?"

"What do you mean?" You asked him, a bit confused this time.

"You really think that I can't just try and brighten my princess's day?" He said, walking closer to you this time.

"Well, I guess that I wouldn't object to that, but what I'm saying is tha-" Before you could finish your sentence, he was pulling you towards him, pressing your bodies on a tight embrace and kissing you passionately.

"Oh no, Jay, you should let me go! I'm all wet!" You squeal out as Jay keeps holding you up in the air against his firm abdomen.

"I don't mind." He told you with a shrug of shoulders. "I'm used to having you like this." He, then, whispers in your ear and you can feel his smirk, as he kisses your neck.

"Jay!" You hissed in fake disapproval. "We're in public! You can't be saying these things to me in public!"

"Sorry, baby. But you know that I just can't help myself around you." He tells you, deliberately taking his time. At that, you just throw back your head in laughter. "Besides, it doesn't seem to me like you're feeling all that bothered with my actions…"

"But I am!" You said assertively. But then you remembered your conversation from earlier and asked him, in a softer tone: "Hey, um, how did the case go? Are you still feeling up for the dinner thing?" As soon as the words left your mouth, you watched Jay shift his entire demeanor.

"Yeah! We're definitely still going! And, as I told you before, the case was just a pain in the ass, nothing more." He sounded nervous. Weird. Like he was hiding something.

"Jay…"

"Let's just go, okay? Cause we still need to get ready for dinner. I already put your stuff in the duffel bag. My car's right outside." Jay told you quickly, like he didn't wanna give you time to make any conclusions.

"Okay, then…"

---

“C’mon, (y/n/n)! We’re running late!” You heard your boyfriend shouting for you to come out of your shared bedroom.

“Hey! Don’t you dare to rush me! Not when you’re the reason I’m running late in the first place!” You sharply answered, stepping out into the living room whilst putting your earring on. “Besides, that place we’re going is just too fancy. I need to look perfect.” You added more calmly, only now realizing how Jay was staring at you. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Wha- wrong? No! No!” He quickly assured you and closed the distance between the two of you. “You already look perfect. Every single day.”

“What? Jay, I’m serious!” You pouted, giving him an annoyed glare.

“I am too! You look gorgeous, baby.” He told you with that glorious smile of his. “And, really, there’s just no place on the planet that could make you look any less gorgeous.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to get me to hurry up!” You accused, hitting him with considerable strength in the chest.

“Ouch! That hurt! And, yes, I am trying to hurry you up! Because we have a reservation!” He yelled at you in response. If it was any other time, you would’ve argued with him, of course. But even you had to admit he was right, you were on the clock.

“Okay, okay! I’m just gonna grab my purse and we’ll go!” You shouted back, already from the bedroom.

After that, the two of you managed to leave your apartment and get to the restaurant on time, due to Jay promising the cab driver a doubled pay if he went faster.

As soon as you arrived, though, you saw it was worth it. You still had no clue of what got in your boyfriend’s head to take you out on this kind of date for no apparent reason like that, especially after everything else he’d already done, but you obviously weren’t about to complain either.

The maître walked both of you two to a table on the upper floor of the establishment, it had an amazing view of the city and it was a pretty reserved space. So, right after you'd placed your orders and been left alone, you half-squealed at Jay:

"Oh. My. God." Your smile was wide and your eyes were shining. "This place is incredible, babe!" He looked at you with devotion, clearly amused by your reaction.

"I know right? I'm really glad we got to come here." He stated, his whole behavior letting you know that he was just as impressed.

And, like that, the evening flew by and you caught yourself stifling yawn after yawn.

"Baby, you’re not too desperate to go home, are you? Because there's still one thing I wanna show you." Your boyfriend said, pulling you by your hand to get up. Then, he guided you to that part where you'd been able to view most Chicago, earlier in the night.

"Wow," you said, leaning against the balcony to see the details, "this really is great, babe." When you’d walked past this part you wondered about why they hadn't put any tables there, only a small couch, but now you knew. They didn't want to make that space ⎼ that landscape ⎼ prisoner of one couple, or one family, that would most likely stay there the entire night.

"It is." He agreed with you.

"You know, I hadn't brought it up yet, because I thought that you'd eventually tell me on your own, but you've been acting a little weird the whole day. This morning in bed, the flowers, then the picnic lunch, picking me up at swimming, and now this… You didn't sound too good on that call either, and I gotta admit that when you said we were going out for a fancy dinner, I didn't think it'd be here, where it's practically impossible to get a reservation. So, just… Talk to me, Jay."

"(y/n/n)... Would you even believe me if I told you that that's what I've been preparing to do the whole day?" He asked you with a shy smile.

"Will you be mad at me if I say no?" You asked, a bit apprehensively. He just laughed.

"Nah, not really." He told you jokingly. "But I have." He said, more serious this time. “Baby, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” He started telling you.

“Jay-” You whispered nervously, sort of anticipating what was about to happen.

“No, just- just please let me finish. I need you to understand how important you are to me, princess. Hell, I know that words aren’t really my strongest suit, but you deserve to know that you’re my light, my lifeline, my happiness… You’re my everything, (y/n/n). My entire world. And, because of you, now I think that it is actually okay to dream, to hope for a better future, for a future. That’s why I wanna ask you, tonight, to be my future, just like you already are my present.” At that moment you couldn’t keep the tears off of your face anymore, and you would’ve jumped him right then if he hadn’t gotten down on one knee. “Will you marry me, (y/n) (y/l/n)?” He asked you with a timid smile and teary eyes of his own. As you took in the man you loved, kneeled before you, holding an open box with the diamond ring you’d recognized as being his mother’s, you just stood there crying, not managing to say anything. “B- baby? Please say something.” Jay spoke again, letting out a nervous choked laugh. So you forced yourself to answer him.

“Oh m- my God, yes!!” You squealed out.

“Yes?!?” He repeated what you said, still on the ground.

“Of course, yes!!!” You confirmed, pulling him up to kiss you. While at it, your boyfriend, now fiancé, almost dropped the small velvet box he was holding.

“Okay,” he started, chuckling, after the two of you parted a little, “let me put this thing on your finger before you back down!”

“Ha, ha. As if I was going to! You’re only in a hurry because you’re scared you’ll drop your mom’s ring.” You bickered a little, letting him know that you recognized the jewelry, to which he responded with a bright smile, saying:

“It’s your ring now, princess. And, trust me, she’d love you almost as much as I do if she were still here.” He told you, shining eyes meeting yours, as he slipped the stunning piece in your finger.

“Jay.” You breathed out as the tears resurfaced in your eyes. “It is so beautiful…” You told him looking down at the ring you had in-hand. “And… You really mean that?”

“100%, princess. If I’m being honest, there are a lot of times when you actually remind me of her…” He said, tearing up a little.

“Awww, babe...” You said throwing your arms around him again.

And that’s how you two stayed. Just holding each other, under a very starry night in Chicago. More than ready to start walking down that new road together.

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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years ago

Text

Stupid Game...But They’re All in High School This Time AU (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister Imagine)

Trigger warning for very graphic attempted sexual assault

"What are the rules?" Jay asked you as you double-checked your backpack to make sure you had everything for the first day of your freshman year of high school.

You sighed and zipped up your backpack. Your two older brothers, Jay a junior, and Will a senior, had already gone over and over this with you. "No spaghetti straps, no backpacks in class--"

"Not written school rules," Jay told you, abruptly cutting you off. "Unwritten school rules."

"Oh," you said as Will entered the living room, holding his car keys in his hand. "Walk on the right side of the hallways, always remember your locker combination or write it somewhere so you will remember it after long breaks, and no talking to the varsity football players unless it's Adam, Kevin, or Kelly because all the rest of them are absolute douchebags."

"There it is," Jay said and grabbed onto the handle of your backpack. "And if someone does this?" He tugged hard and you flew backward.

"Turn around and swing," you told him and quickly regained your balance once he let go.

"Jesus, Jay," Will said and smacked Jay upside the head, resulting in Jay letting out an ow in response. "Don't scare the poor girl. No one's gonna do that. It only happens in the movies." He turned back to you. "Don't listen to him."

"So, all that unwritten rules stuff I can just forget?" you asked.

"No, that was all legit. Just the backpack tug thing was a lie. Now let's go before--"

"Will, Jay, Y/N!" The three of you groaned when you heard your mom's voice calling you and then stepping into the living room. "Take off your backpacks and go on the front porch."

The three of you groaned again.

"Mom," Jay whined. "Do you we have to take a first day of school picture every single year?"

"Yes. And it's your brother's first day of senior year and your sister's first day of high school in general. So, get out on the porch and quit complaining. The faster I take this picture, the faster the three of you can leave."

You all grumbled and then went out on the porch to take a picture. Even though it was early September in Chicago, it was sweltering hot out. You thanked your lucky stars that Will's car had working AC because you knew that some of your friend's older siblings didn't have working AC in their cars and they always complained about how hot it was on the ride to and from school. But, it was better than taking the bus.

Once you had finished taking the pictures (and Jay pulled your hair in one of them so Will told Jay he has to sit in the backseat on the way to school and you got the passenger seat), you got in Will's car.

***

"So, meet you right here after school?" you asked Will when you entered the high school through the double doors of the main entrance.

"Yup. Jay, you got a ride home from soccer practice?" Will asked.

"Yeah. Adam's dropping me off at home. But I swear to God if I have to sit in the backseat one more time--"

"Give it a rest. I could've stepped on your foot, but I figured you'd need it for soccer. So, I let you off easy."

"Whatever," Jay mumbled.

You started to walk towards the freshman hallway and wondered why Jay and Will were still walking with you when you passed the junior and senior lockers. But, then you saw a huge group of varsity football players in the long hallway between the sophomore and freshman hallways, pointing at girls they thought got prettier or skinnier over the summer or new freshman girls for them to hit on or have a one night fling with.

"I'm gonna need to tell Kelly to keep his boys in line," Jay said to Will.

"No shit," Will replied.

"Don't you creeps have anything better to do?" Jay yelled at them. "And, I see at least three of you who are eighteen, so I'd recommend you stop ogling at minors and get back to watching tapes or something so we can actually make it to the playoffs this year."

"And what are you--" a football player who was obviously new on varsity stepped forward and started to say, but another one pulled him back.

"Dude, he's stronger than he looks and they're both best friends with Severide. So, shut the fuck up," he told the new varsity player.

"Yeah, listen to your friend," Will said. "C'mon, Y/N, just keep walking."

You did as he told you and shook off the weird encounter.

"They stop after homecoming," Will told you as he took a piece of paper from you and looked at what locker number you had.

"What do you mean after homecoming?" you asked.

Jay and Will shared a look. They had never told you about the game the football players had from late September/early October until homecoming which was usually mid-October/late October.

"We'll explain later," Will said. You walked a few more steps until you found your locker.

Next to you, there was a girl with blond hair who was wearing a flannel and jeans and brown combat boots who was helping a freshman with their locker as well.

"Alright," Will said. "So, this is your combination. Don't feel bad if you forget it after Christmas or spring break. Everyone goes to the office to ask for their combo when they get back, so don't feel embarrassed about it."

Will showed you how to unlock your locker, but it didn't budge. He tried it again. Nothing. Then, he let Jay have a go at it. Again, nothing.

"Need help?" the blond next to you asked. She was now done helping the other freshman with their locker.

Jay opened his mouth to tell her no, but you said yes faster than he could answer.

Will handed her the paper with the combination and she tried it. Nothing.

She looked down at another paper she was holding. "Ah, I know why this one isn't working. It's on the flagged list."

"The flagged list?" you asked.

"Yeah. They didn't have time to fix some of the lockers during the summer, but they'll be getting to them this weekend, so you should only have to deal with it being crappy like this the first week," she answered.

She tried your combination again, pushed up on the lock, and then kicked the bottom of the locker.

It opened.

"Upton!" A teacher yelled. "No kicking lockers!"

"This one was flagged!" she yelled back. "Only way to get it to open!"

"Fine. I guess it's okay for this week." The teacher narrowed his eyes. "Halstead."

"Mr. Williams," Jay said and then turned back and rolled his eyes.

"What's up with him?" you asked Will.

"Yeah, Jay may or not have fired spitballs at Mr. Williams freshman year," Will answered.

"That was you?" the girl asked. "I remembered hearing that a soccer player did it, but I never got the name. Guess now I know it was you, Jay."

"Yes, it was me, Hailey." So, this girl's name was Hailey.

"Wait, you two know each other?" you asked.

"We had what, an English class together last year?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, first semester because then I got put in the honors class," Hailey said.

"That class always seemed so much more for than the normal class," Jay mused.

"Too bad you can't write papers for shit," Will told his little brother.

"Shut up," Jay groaned.

Will looked up at one of the digital clocks in the hallway. "We should get going," he said. "We've only got fifteen minutes until we have to be in homeroom."

"Good luck, fresh meat," Jay joked and you rolled your eyes as your two older brothers walked off to their wing of the school that housed their lockers.

"Want some help putting your things in here?" Hailey asked. "I have a pass to get to class half an hour late since I'm on student council and helping you guys out."

"Uh, sure, since you're here. Mind if I close my locker and then try opening it myself?" you asked.

"Go for it."

You closed your locker and then did the exact same thing she did to get your locker open, including the kick. It opened on your first try.

"Perfect!" Hailey said. You unzipped your backpack and you and Hailey stooped down to grab folders, binders, and notebooks out of it. "I'm sorry, I never actually introduced myself. I'm Hailey Upton."

"Y/N Halstead," you replied. "Those two doofuses who just left are my brothers, Jay and Will, seems like you already knew Jay, though."

"I mean, I don't really know him. I guess I know of him if that makes sense."

"Makes total sense."

The two of you continued to put stuff in your locker until everything was in there, just in time for the five-minute bell to ring.

You looked at your schedule. "You don't happen to know where Mr. V's room is, do you? My brothers told me it's not in the freshman or sophomore halls."

"Oh, yeah. You just go down the connecting hallway and past the junior and senior lockers and then you'll see-- you know what, I'll walk you there. It's kind of hard to find."

"Thank you."

"No problem. We've all been freshmen before."

***

Hailey entered her AP biology class just as the late bell rang. She took the first empty seat she saw...which ended up being next to none other than Will Halstead.

"Hey," Hailey said. "This seat wasn't saved, was it?"

"No," Will replied. "It's yours now." He looked at Hailey. "You were the one who helped my sister with her locker this morning, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm Hailey."

"Will," he told her.

"So," their teacher, Mr. Davis began, "since this is an AP class, there will be a lot more homework than a typical biology class. I also know some of you are juniors, so I hope that you take AP anatomy and physiology next year with me if you do well in this class. As for you seniors who are taking this AP class and AP A and P--which stands for anatomy and physiology by the way--I know that the first three chapters of this class overlap a lot, so I'm sorry if you get bored.

"But, the person you have chosen to sit next to, will be your partner for any projects we have this semester. And, they aren't typical projects like presentations and the like. They're mostly practice AP tests that I want you to take with another person so that you can talk over the answers and make sure you don't make the same mistake twice. Obviously, around February, I'll ask you to take the practice tests by yourself so that you can practice for the real tests.

"Every chapter there will be presentations. I will give each pair a sub-topic of the chapter and I want you to do a five to ten minute presentation on it for the class. I also want you to put together a Kahoot for your subsection after the presentation because I found that that makes students pay way more attention than when there isn't one because everyone wants to win."

Hailey raised her hand. "Yes, remind me of your name," he said when he pointed to Hailey.

"Hailey," she told him.

"Hailey," he repeated and scribbled her name on the piece of paper with the seating chart on his desk. "Oh, and after I go over all this, I would like all of you to come and write your name on the seating chart. Hailey of course won't have to write her name because she doesn't need to be on there twice. Anyway, what was your question?"

"I was just wondering how many practice tests we'll have to take and how often you were should meet up with our partner outside of school?" Hailey asked.

"Both great questions. For the practice tests, we'll start taking them in November because that gives us time to go over the format and content. Don't worry, I won't put any new content on the practice tests. I'm not that mean. You'll take one in November, one in December, and one in January. These will all be done with your seat partner. Then, from February on, you'll have one every month, but these will be taken by yourselves so that you get used to it before the actual test.

"As for meeting up with your partner, I'd recommend every two weeks. That way you won't fall behind on the presentations."

Hailey nodded and scribbled this information down in her notebook. But, she was also nervous. She couldn't let Will come to her house. She just had to hope that Will would have all the meetings at his house.

***

"How was your first day?" Will asked when you met him at the main doors after school.

"It was good. Not as scary as you guys made it seem. Still need to make sure I get to my classes on time, though," you replied as the two of you walked out of the building and through the parking lot towards his car.

"They'll give you a grace period to get to class on time," Will told you. "It's usually a week, week and a half until they start handing out tardies."

You were about to ask how his day was, when someone yelling stopped you.

"Nice ass, Halstead!"

Your jaw dropped and your eyes bugged out of your head as you and Will both turned around. Of course, it was a varsity football player who yelled that, of course, it was.

Will put his hand in front of you. "Y/N, I'm gonna give you my keys and you're going to unlock my car and get inside."

"Will, he's not worth it," you argued.

"Y/N, take my damn keys. I don't want you anywhere near this."

You relented and took his keys and then went and got in the passenger seat of his car. But, you watched as everything unfolded.

Will stalked up to the football player, who he knew was Derek Evans, the school fuck boy who every girl liked because he was a shoo-in to get drafted by the NFL right after high school and had really good looks even though he was a total sexist asshole.

"What the fuck did you just say to my sister?" Will roared.

"Said she had a nice ass," he replied while shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"You son of a--" Will lunged at him but Kevin and Kelly ran in to hold him back. Turns out they were walking out of school and saw the entire exchange.

"Will! calm the fuck down!" Kelly shouted as he pushed Will back.

"Did you not hear what he said?" Will yelled as he kept reaching out to Derek.

Kevin was pushing Derek back, too.

"We did. But you can't be fighting on the first day. If you're gonna do it, do it somewhere else not on school grounds."

"Both you, take a damn breath and walk away," Kevin told them.

Kelly pushed Will back and then grabbed his arm and walked him towards his car while Kevin walked Derek towards the football field.

"You better fucking do something about that, Severide," Will told him.

"Believe me, I'll make sure he runs lap for the entirety of practice."

"I meant punch his face in."

"Can't do that, man. I got scholarships on the line."

"At least let me bring my baseball bat to school and bash his face in. If my batting average is any indication, I could knock him out and kill him in one swing."

"That would be murder and then you'd be in prison instead of going to med school." Kelly paused and took a deep breath. "I guess now's not a great time to tell you, but freshmen are up for grabs in the game this year. The players all said they weren't going to do it because the coaches banned it, but they're going to try and be sneaky. Only writing the points down on paper and burning it, no texting about it or putting it on social media, you can only talk about it on the phone or in person, and it can't be talked about at school."

"Fuck. So the girls won't really know what's going on until it starts."

"Exactly. Just, let Y/N know, okay? And have her pass it on to some of the other freshmen...because we both know if they go to Principal White he won't do shit."

"Yeah, he's as much of a son of a bitch as Evans. But, I'll tell her. Thanks, Kelly."

***

"Jay!" Will yelled when Jay walked inside all sweaty after his soccer practice.

"What? Dude, I need a shower," he said as he threw his soccer bag and his backpack down by the door.

"Better pick that up before Mom gets home. She'll be pissed if she comes home at 3 am and trips over it."

Your mom was a nurse and worked from 2:30 pm-2:30 am, which meant she only saw you in the morning for four days a week...even though she's only supposed to work three days a week, so 36 hours, but she always picked up an extra day so that she could put some money in all of your guys' college funds. Sometimes, she'd even work five days a week and she'd be exhausted once her week was over. But, she was the hardest worker you knew and inspired you to work as hard as you possibly could at everything you did; you never did anything half-assed because you never saw your mom do that. She always gave it her all.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I want to shower," Jay said.

"Wait five minutes. This is important," Will told him.

Jay sat down on the couch next to him. "Fine. What is it?"

So, Will explained what happened when he and you walked out of school today and how Kelly had to hold him back so that he wouldn't beat Derek Evans to a pulp. He also told him that the game was still on...and this time freshmen are fair game.

"Fucking hell," Jay muttered.

"Yeah," Will agreed.

"Should we tell her?"

"Probably. The sooner the better, too."

"Okay. Let me jump in the shower and then we can tell her and tell her how to protect herself."

Ten minutes later, Jay was out of the shower and he knocked on your bedroom door, Will right behind him. When he didn't get an answer after a few rounds of knocking, he opened your door.

"She's sleeping. Guess we'll have to tell her when she wakes up," Jay said.

"As long as we tell her tonight," Will said. "The more time she has to prepare for what's to come, the better."

***

"Jesus. Fuck," you muttered as you rolled over and looked at the time on your phone. After stretching and jumping out of bed, you walked from your bedroom into the kitchen, to see your brothers both eating pasta. "Neither of you two bothered to wake me up? It's 6:30."

"Figured you needed the sleep," Will shrugged. "Dinner's in the fridge. Mom made lasagna."

You grabbed yourself a plate and then put some lasagna on it and put it in the microwave. Then you sat down across from Jay and Will who were both sitting on the same side of the kitchen table.

"How was your first day?" Jay asked.

"Good...other than Wiliams making me sit in the front right in front of his desk. I don't mind the front because then I can see the board easier, but his desk, really? This one's all your fault." You pointed your fork at Jay.

Jay held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, really wasn't thinking about you when I fired those spitballs."

"What were you thinking about?" Will asked.

"That I needed to aim for his head."

"My god, you're a child," you laughed. "And, Will about ripped a football player's head off today. I think his name was Derek? He would've, too if Kelly didn't hold him back."

"But he said you had a nice ass," Will quoted. "Pretty sure that warrants me ripping his head off."

"Will's right," Jay agreed. "I would've pushed past Kelly and beat Evans to a pulp."

"Good to know you guys have my back. But, I'm in high school now. You can't keep fighting my battles for me."

"Too bad," Will said. "You're stuck with us."

"Ugh," you groaned and took a bite of your lasagna. "How was your day, Will?" you asked once you had finished the bite. "Any talk of what the senior prank will be?"

"We didn't actually talk about that. But, the girl who helped you with your locker, Hailey, she's my partner in my AP bio class," Will answered. Jay coughed. "You alright there, Jay?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine."

"Anyway," Will began, "she'll be coming round here a bit because we have to do these presentations. She said her brothers are usually home, so she'll probably come here most of the time. Oh, Y/N, she also told me to tell you that if there's ever a day where you can't find anyone to sit with at lunch, that you can always sit with her."

"Really? That's so nice of her. I wish I had classes with her," you said.

"Okay, since it's obvious neither of you is going to ask about my day because I'm the forgotten middle child," Jay started, causing both you and Will to roll your eyes, "I'm just gonna tell you. Nothing important happened. They just drilled that we have to take the SAT into our heads. Oh, and we have read like this 16th century crap in English 11, so that sucks."

"English 11 is the worst," Will agreed. "Good luck."

The three of you continued to eat and the Will started talking again when he and Jay were finished and you were almost done.

"So, Y/N, there's this sick and twisted tradition at school," Will began with a worried look on his face. "And it ends after homecoming."

"So that's what you were implying earlier," you said.

"Yeah, so what happens is that the football players kinda sorta get dares to do, but they aren't specifically dares. It's like there's a list of things they do with a girl and there's points attached to them. Like, apparently if a guy grabs a girl's ass in the hallway or anywhere else on the school's campus or at a school event, it's 50 points. But, since that's pretty tame, that's the only one that actually has to be done on campus. The rest of them can be off or on-campus...but they'd probably be off-campus," Will explained.

"I'm confused. So they get points for assaulting us?" you asked.

"Technically, it's just harassment...but some of the other ones could be classified as assault. But, those ones are supposed to be consensual, so the only risk you really run is having your butt grabbed in the hallway. Jay, you wanna take it from here?"

"Uh, yeah," Jay answered. "Usually freshmen are off-limits, but this year they changed the rules, so they're allowed. But, Kelly, Kevin, and Adam opted out because they're decent human beings, so if you see them in the hallway, you're safe; you don't have to be scared of them."

"But the rest...?" you trailed off.

"The rest of the varsity football team you need to be aware of."

"So, when does this game start and what do I do?"

"It starts in two weeks and goes on for a month, so until homecoming. As for what to do, well most girls just wear long shirts to cover their butts and not wear super tight pants," Jay told you.

"And if me or Jay have a class close to one of yours, we can walk you to your locker or to your next class. That should help a bit," Will offered.

"Thanks. That might help. But, why hasn't Mr. White stopped it?" you asked.

"Because he's as much of a sexist asshole as the football players. But, it's only a month. You can get through it," Will promised.

"God I hope so."

***

It had been two weeks since you started high school and in two days that stupid game of grab ass would begin. Hailey and Will were currently working on their presentation in the kitchen and Jay was playing at an away soccer game...which is where your mom was, too. You were sitting in your room working on your planner for next week.

You looked at your planner and saw Monday was circled and said The Game in black ink. God, why did guys have to be such sexist pigs? Just because they were the football players didn't mean they got on pass on all the school rules and hell, even all the general rules of society.

You shook your head and turned up your music and started writing in your classes for that week in your planner.

A few songs later, you thought you heard a knock on your door, so you took out one of your headphones. "Yeah?" you asked.

"Y/N, it's Hailey. Can I come in?" she asked from the other side of your door.

"Yeah," you told her as you took out the other headphone and paused your music. "What's up?" you asked when she entered.

"Will told me you're really nervous for the game starting this week?" she motioned to the spot next to you on your bed. "Can I sit?" You nodded and she sat down. "Honestly, you just have to be on high alert for a whole month. Try to walk by other people whenever you can and, I think Will said they already told you this, but don't wear tight-fitting clothing."

"They did. I just don't know what to wear."

"Well, I can help you with that. Let's go through your clothes and we'll take out what you can't wear during this and put it in another drawer, okay?"

"That sounds good." You closed your planner and you and Hailey began going through your dresser and closet.

"Another tip," she started, "if you have the chance to knee one of them in the balls, then do it. Why do you think they stopped coming after me halfway through the game last year?"

"You kneed a football player in the balls?" you asked as your eyes went wide.

"Mhm. Did it to the captain of the football team last year. He was a senior, so he's not here anymore, but now all the football boys know not to mess with me."

"I will most definitely keep that one in mind."

***

Jay met up with you that Thursday after one of his classes because it was in the same hall as yours. "Day going good?" he asked as his eyes darted side to side, clearly in overprotective big brother mode.

"Yeah, and no one's tried anything yet, so I guess that's a good thing," you told him.

You were focused on dodging people in the hallway so you had time to stop by your locker and change out your books, go to the bathroom, and then get to your next class all within the span of five minutes (your school really needed to make passing time at least seven to eight minutes instead of five), so you didn't hear the booming laughter of a few varsity football players behind you...but Jay did.

"Back the fuck off," Jay growled as none other than Derek Evans reached out to grab your ass. But, Jay stopped him by turning around and walking backward to shield your backside and then grabbing Derek's outstretched hand.

"Aww, look guys, the little freshman needs her big brother to protect her," Derek mocked.

"From you, yeah she does. You're a sick fuck, Evans...and that goes for your posse, too."

"Let go of my hand, Halstead."

Jay narrowed his eyes, but he let go. "Next time you try to grab my sister, that arm will be twisted so far back behind you that you can kiss your senior season goodbye."

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes and then turned around to go back the other way, towards his actual class.

"Thanks," you said as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Don't mention it."

***

Jay made his way out of a classroom later that day and saw Hailey, so he made his way over to her.

"I don't need protecting, Jay," she told him.

"I know," Jay replied. "Everyone knows about you kneeing the captain last year. Great job on that by the way. I know I'm a year late, but that was a good move on your part."

"Thanks. It was just a reflex, honestly."

"And thanks for helping Y/N with the clothes thing. She was really nervous."

Hailey waved a hand flippantly. "That was nothing, just a girl helping another girl out."

"As the world should be," Jay agreed. Hey, his mother taught him to look at women as equals and he was going to treat Hailey as such...now that he knew she could protect herself from all these assholes. Because if she hadn't kneed that captain where the sun don't shine last year, you best believe he'd be on high alert for the varsity football players just like he was with you a few classes ago. "So, our practice got canceled because of the rain and the football game got canceled, too. So, me, Adam, and Kelly were gonna go out for tacos at that place across the street, but Adam's bringing his girlfriend, Kim, and Kelly's bringing his girlfriend, Stella, and I don't want to third-wheel, so do you maybe want to go with me? That is if you don't have to be home right after school."

Her dad didn't get home until 5:30. "Sure," she told him. "I just have to be home by 4:30. But, I normally take the bus, so unless one of you can bring me home, I can't come." She figured getting home an hour early would work well so that she wasn't rushing.

"Adam's bringing me home, so I'm sure he can stop by your house, too. Where do you live?" Jay asked. She told him her address. "That's only a block away from me. I'm sure he can bring you home. I'll text him and then text you." He held out his phone. "Put your number in."

So, Hailey put her number in his phone. Then, she handed it back to him and they hurried to get to their respective classes before the late bell rang.

But, she was wondering why she was blushing so much as she turned away and why all these butterflies had erupted in her stomach when their fingers brushed against each other's when she handed his phone back to him. She wasn't falling for Jay Halstead. There was no way, right?

***

"So, party this weekend. Everyone in?" Adam asked as the six of them ate tacos.

"Whose house?" Kelly asked.

Adam said a name of a football player and told them it was Saturday night, and they all agreed to go...except for Hailey, who spouted off some excuse about how she had to be up early on Sunday, so she couldn't go. Jay was disappointed that he wouldn't have an excuse to dance with her, but he figured there'd be other parties.

"Mom's working that night," Jay said. "So, as long as I'm home by like 2:45, I should be good. Will will probably be down, too. Then Natalie will probably come."

"Great. I'll text him so he knows how much beer to have his older brother buy...but I'm sure they'll buy extra because more people usually show up anyway."

They talked and ate for another hour before they had to leave so Hailey could get home on time.

Jay and Hailey sat in the backseat of Adam's car while Adam and Kim sat in the front.

When they pulled up to Hailey's house, Jay offered to walk her to the door, but she told him no, that he didn't have to. He insisted, but she still said no, so he let it go and she got out of the car and went inside her house.

"Dude, you so like her," Adam said as they drove another block to his house.

"I do not. I don't know what you're talking about. She's just a friend," he argued.

Adam snorted. "Yeah right. And I'm the fucking king of England."

"You should ask her to homecoming," Kim suggested.

"Kim! Not you, too!"

"It's obvious. You should ask her. She might just surprise you."

***

You woke up Saturday night to your phone ringing and breaking you out of a peaceful sleep. You rubbed your eyes and looked at the time and the caller. Why the hell was Jay calling you when it was past one in the morning?

"Hello?" you asked sleepily.

"Y/N, me and Will need your help," Jay said.

You immediately sat up. "What do you mean? I thought you were home. Where the hell are you?"

"We went to a party and we couldn't risk you telling Mom, so we snuck out around 11 when we knew you were sleeping. But, Kelly's the DD and he had two drinks, so he can't drive us home. He's not drunk off his ass, but if we get pulled over and they pull out a breathalyzer, we're all shit outta luck."

"Why can't you do it?" you asked. "You sound pretty sober to me."

"I'm two and a half beers deep and it'll probably be four by the time you get here."

"Fucking hell, Jay. And me? You seem to forget that I don't have my license yet, just my permit. I can't come get you. You're just gonna have to wait until Mom gets home and call her."

"No! No way is Mom finding out!"

"What's in it for me? I'm not breaking the law and coming to get your dumbasses for free. And I need something from both you and Will."

"Fine," Jay huffed. "Name your price."

"You do my laundry for a month and Will does my algebra homework for a month."

"Two weeks. We'll do those for two weeks," Jay said.

"No. Three weeks or I'm not coming and you get to suffer the wrath of Mom."

"Fine," he relented. "I'll text you the address."

***

You drove Will's car like an old grandma on the way to the house party, sometimes going ten miles under the speed limit. There was no way you were getting busted for your brothers.

You turned off your car and parked in the closest spot you could find to the house where the party was at. Then, you pulled out your phone and texted both Jay and Will that you were there.

Five minutes passed...then ten and still no answer from either of them.

"Fucking hell," you muttered as you unbuckled and then grabbed the keys and got out of Will's car and locked it, safely zipping the keys in one of your sweatshirt pockets. "I swear to God if both of them are three sheets to the wind and I have to drag their asses out of there, I will not be fucking happy."

You started to walk towards the party, looking at your phone every couple of seconds to see if either of your brothers had texted you back.

You gasped when you felt someone grab your ass.

"Fifty points," he whispered in your ear and then grabbed your wrist.

Derek Evans.

"Let me go!" you told him as you tried to pull away from him.

"No can do, freshman. It's 500 points for fucking a freshman and there's no way I'm passing up that opportunity."

"Let me go!" you screamed. You even dropped your phone to the ground to try to use your other hand to pry his hand off your wrist. But, he just laughed and kept holding you. Then, he stomped on your phone, breaking it into pieces.

You kept screaming, but the music was so loud that no one could hear you. And, you tried to dig your heels into the ground to stop him, but it was no use; he was too strong.

Eventually, he got tired of dragging you and just picked you up. You punched and kicked him, but it didn't seem to work. It was like this senior was immune to pain.

He got to a shed near the side of the house and quite literally threw you against it. You groaned and took a few deep breaths. In that time, Derek had ripped his shirt off and grabbed your wrists with one hand. You dug your nails into his hands. You weren't going down without a fight.

"That's cute," he laughed. "You think some nails are going to stop me."

He dragged you over a few inches and then used some of his shirt to secure your wrists to the fence that separated this house from the one next to it.

"Help! Help!" you yelled. "Somebody help me!"

Your head flew to the right as he slapped you across the face. "Shut the fuck up!"

You whimpered and then started kicking your feet. But, he just walked away and watched you struggle as he removed his pants. Then, he sat on your legs. You couldn't kick anymore, so you started screaming even louder. He slapped you a few more times across the face until you finally shut up because, fuck, that hurt. That just left you whimpering at his mercy as he fumbled with the string on your pajama pants. (You hadn't bothered changing your pants when you came to get your brothers, only threw on a bra on under your t-shirt.) You didn't know what to do. No one was going to save you and you were completely and utterly helpless.

***

Kelly Severide knew you were coming to pick them up as Jay had told him that when he was on his way to grab his fourth beer. He hadn't heard anything from Jay or Will yet but figured they were both shit-faced. So, he tried to text you. No reply. He tried to call. No answer.

So, Kelly walked out onto the back porch and started around the side of the house to see if you had parked. But then, he heard whimpering and what sounded like a slap and then a yelp. He started running.

When he saw what was happening, he saw red.

You were lying on the grass whimpering while Derek was just in his boxers. You wanted him to stop smacking your thighs and face because god, you were fucking hurting and you were also fucking terrified about what was going to happen next.

"Please," you whimpered. "Please, st--"

"You son of a bitch!"

Before you could even register who yelled that, Derek was thrown off of you and to the ground.

You caught your breath and just laid there panting and crying while Kelly did a number on Derek's face. He sent more punches to his stomach until he finally doubled over and groaned in pain. Then, he kicked him in the back and he fell to the ground. Kelly placed his foot on Derek's back. "Stay the fuck down you fucking bastard."

He pulled out his phone and called 911. "Hello, I'd like to report a sexual assault."

***

Will felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. "Kelly, where the hell are you, man?" he asked as he dirty danced with Natalie on the dance floor.

"Will, you need to come out by the shed now," he said, still with his foot on Derek's back, keeping him down. Kelly felt terrible that he couldn't untie you, but he couldn't risk Derek getting up and trying to finish what he started.

"Why? You snorting coke out there? Because count me out. I don't do that."

"No. It's Y/N. She was- she-- It's that stupid fucking game some of the bastards I call teammates are playing. An ambulance and the cops are on their way."

Will's mouth went dry. It went dry when he heard the game part, but now it was as if it was sandpaper.

"Jay's by me. We'll be there in a second."

Will pocketed his phone and let go of Natalie. "Baby, what's wrong?" she asked.

"It's Y/N. I think one of those football players got to her."

"Fuck a freshman." Adam's eyes went wide as he let go of Kim.

"What? What about fucking?" Jay asked as he went to take another sip of his beer, but Will swatted it out of his hand.

"We need to go. Now." He grabbed Jay's arm. "Adam, explain."

The three of them started running, Jay barely being able to run in a straight line and Natalie and Kim hot on their heels, and Adam explained how he heard about one part of the game that was called fuck a freshman. But, he thought it was a joke because he didn't know for sure because he didn't sign up for the game.

"Well, obviously it's not a joke!"

Will saw Kelly with his foot on Derek's back before he saw you.

"You fucking son of a bitch!" he yelled.

"Will!" you cried.

"Y/N, hold on. We're here, we're here." He knelt down next to you and untied the t-shirt that kept your wrists tied to the fence.

It took Jay a minute, but then he realized what happened...it also took Kim shaking him and telling him she was going to slap him across the face and then actually doing it. Now that sobered him up.

You could hear sirens in the distance.

"Me and Natalie will go get them," Will said. "You three good here?"

"We're good. Now go get help," Kelly said.

***

The ride to the hospital was a blur. You were still freaking out, so the paramedics had to give you a light sedative to calm down. You remembered your brothers being in the back of the ambulance with you and you remembered Jay puking in a bucket from all the beer he drank.

You vaguely remembered the doctors asking you questions and taking pictures of your bruises. You also remembered them telling the three police officers that they couldn't question you yet. And then, you fell asleep.

***

You slowly opened your eyes and squinted against the bright hospital lights.

Damn, it must've taken me a helluva long time to get the boys out of that party if I'm waking up when the sun is this bright, you thought to yourself.

But, then you looked at your surroundings and it all came flooding back to you.

"Mama, Mama," you cried.

"I'm here, honey, I'm here," she said as she gently grabbed your hand.

You tried to sit up, but your thighs and stomach hurt so bad from Derek hitting you that you couldn't.

"I want a hug but I can't sit up," you cried as tears started to stream down your face.

She stood up and bent over the bed and wrapped her arms around you. It was an uncomfortable position for her because she was bending over to hug you, but she didn't care. You were her little girl and she'd do anything to make you feel safe and loved.

Will and Jay sat in the chairs on the other side of your bed. You hadn't even realized they were there. Will had tears in his eyes and Jay had a hand over his mouth trying to stop a sob from coming out. God, if he wouldn't have called you to pick them up, then this wouldn't have happened. It was all his fault this happened to you.

A knock on the door sounded and your mom let go of you and the two of you looked towards the door.

It was Hailey.

Jay looked to you to see if it was okay that she came in and you nodded.

"Hey," she said as she entered. "I brought donuts. Figured you might be hungry."

You were glad she didn't ask if you were okay because it was apparent that you most definitely were not okay.

You nodded and she walked over to you and opened the box. "You get first pick."

You picked a raspberry-filled one and then proceeded to take tiny bites of your donut. It hurt too much to open your mouth a lot because your cheeks and chin were heavily bruised.

You almost finished your donut, when there was another knock on the door. This time it was three police officers. Then, they opened the door.

"Y/N, I'm Trudy Platt and this is Detective Alvin Olinsky and Detective Hank Voight. We're here to take a few statements about what happened," the officer told you.

"Am I in trouble?" you asked. You did drive without a license.

"No, not at all. We just need to know what happened. We can give you a minute to finish eating if you would like?"

"Can I do it now?"

"Of course." She turned to your mom. "Mom, you want to stay in the room?"

"If I can--"

"I don't want you to know the details, Mom. Please," you pleaded as more tears fell.

"Are you sure? I'll love you no matter what, honey. Good or bad, you're still my little girl."

"I know. But I just- I want to be alone."

"Okay, me and the boys and Hailey will be right outside."

The four of them left and the two detectives left as well, leaving only you and this officer known as Trudy Platt.

"Am I in trouble?" you asked when the door shut.

"Oh, honey, no," Trudy said as she sat down in the seat your mom was previously sitting in.

"But, I drove without my license be- because they asked me to pick them up and then- and then--"

"Y/N, you are not in any trouble. Kelly Severide told us most of the story about what happened, but we need to hear it in your own words. And you can take as long as you want. Take as much time as you need."

So you told her what happened.

"It's all my fault. If I would've never agreed to go pick up Will and Jay--"

"This is not your fault. None of this is your fault," she told you.

"But why does it feel like it is? If I could've just fought him off, maybe this wouldn't have happened." You wiped your eyes with the heels of your hands and let out a strangled sob which was more like a yell. "Why do boys get away with everything?"

She pulled the chair closer to your bed. "Y/N, you have my word that he won't be getting away with what he did to you. I promise you he won't get away with it."

"But how do you know that? You can't possibly know that!"

"Because I have two of the best detectives working with me and I just know that he won't get away with what he did to you."

After a few more minutes and explaining that you really didn't want to go through a trial, Trudy left the room. She also handed you her card in case you changed your mind about the trial.

Then, Trudy Platt went to the bathroom where she saw the other girl who was in the room with you while she was washing her hands. As the girl was scrubbing her hands, Trudy noticed a bruise on her arm, a little above her wrist. It was low enough that it could be hidden by long sleeves, but that it could also ride up when the girl was washing her hands.

"You're one of Y/N's friends?" Trudy asked.

"Yeah. Me and her brother got paired up for a project and I was supposed to meet him this morning, but he texted saying family emergency. So, I thought I'd bring them breakfast," Hailey answered.

"That's very kind of you. Were you at the party last night?"

"No, I was at home."

"Is that where you hurt your arm?"

Hailey quickly pulled on her sweatshirt sleeve "No, I uh, I hit it on my locker a few days ago."

Trudy knew this girl was lying. She had worked enough domestic and child abuse cases to know the usual excuses. So, she pulled out her business card and handed it to Hailey. "This is my business card. My cell phone number is on there as well. Call me if you need help getting out."

***

Trudy, Hank, and Al entered the district and then went into the basement where there were no cameras.

"I think we can all agree on not putting that the girl was driving without a license in the reports," Trudy started.

"Agreed," Al said. "What about the boys?"

"We leave out that they were drinking, too," Hank said. "The only people who know that they were drinking are us three and them since they obviously can't take a breathalyzer now, there's no use in putting it in the reports. They were just kids being kids."

"Yeah, except for the asshole who assaulted her," Al stated.

"Yeah, except for him. We're throwing the book at that bastard," Hank agreed.

"She said she didn't want to go through a trial," Trudy said.

"What? Why not?" Hank asked.

"She said that she didn't think that anyone would believe her. He's a senior who everyone likes, hell, this whole town knows he's going to be drafted. So, she thinks he wouldn't get in trouble if he does actually go to trial."

Hank sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Well, we have 48 hours to hold him, and then me and Al will figure out how to take care of this."

***

"Are you hungry?" your mom asked when you got home later that day. The hospital had discharged you since all your injuries were superficial, such as the bruises on your face, wrist stomach, and thighs.

"No," you muttered. "I'm gonna go to my room."

"Okay, well if you want to be alone, that's fine, but I took FMLA leave, so I'll be home for a while. Take all the time you need, honey."

You nodded and then walked into your room and cuddled under your blankets. Since it was the afternoon, there was still a bit of sunlight coming in from beneath your blinds, which you were thankful for. You turned on your fan and allowed it to blow lightly on you. You were glad that you always used your fan for white noise so that you could sleep, but it also helped to muffle your quiet sobs as you cried into your pillow.

Meanwhile, Hailey, Will, Jay, and your mom were in the kitchen. Hailey had come home with you and your family so that she and Will could work on their presentation. She said it was fine, that she could go home, but Will said working on the presentation would be a welcome distraction.

"What's FMLA leave?" Jay asked.

"It's the Family Medical Leave Act," she answered as she sat down at the kitchen table. "It means I can have up to twelve weeks unpaid leave at work and still be guaranteed a job when I get back. But, I'll probably just take half of that, because uh, I won't be making any money during that time."

"I can see if I can get my summer job back," Will immediately offered. "I know I said I can only work during the summer, but I can work on the weekends even if it's only ten hours a week and I've only been off for a month, so they should probably be able to rehire me--"

"Honey," your mom said, cutting him off. "I really appreciate you thinking of that. But it's your senior year and you're taking four AP classes. School comes first. We'll get through it. This is only temporary and I do have a savings account in case of emergencies and we should be fine."

"Okay, well, you can always tell me to talk to my boss if I need to," Will said. Then, he turned to Hailey. "I'll go grab my stuff and then we can work on the project."

Will walked away to his room, leaving Jay, your mom, and Hailey. "Can I get you anything, Hailey?" your mom asked. "Water, coffee?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine," Hailey said. This wasn't about her. She knew that you needed your mom and that your mom needed time to feel what happened as well. "Thank you, though."

"I'm gonna go check on Y/N and then go for a drive. If anything happens with her, Jay, I need either you or Will to call me right away."

"We will, Mom, don't worry."

Your mom pulled Jay into a hug. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Mom." Normally, Jay wouldn't have hugged his mom when his friends were around--or whatever he considered Hailey--, but he knew his mom needed it, so he returned her hug.

"Be back soon."

Then, she checked on you and seeing that you were asleep, grabbed her keys, and left.

"I'm gonna put on a pot of coffee," Jay said. "I know you said you were good, but you can have some if you want." He made his way to the cupboard and grabbed the container of ground-up coffee beans and started putting them into a filer.

"Thanks. Might take you up on that when me and Will are working. A little liquid focus never hurt anyone," she replied.

"No doubt."

Hailey paused, she wanted to keep talking with Jay but didn't know what to say. She didn't want to mention last night either. "So, are you taking any AP classes?" she asked. "You know, since Will's apparently taking four."

"Will's a psychopath and no, I'm not. Too much work if you ask me. If I was planning on going to college, I might take a few, but I'm not."

"Oh. Then what are you planning to do?"

"Maybe the army. My mom doesn't like the thought of me fighting in wars, but she supports my decision. I just don't feel like studying is for me."

"What branch?" Hailey asked.

He raised his eyebrows at how interested she was. "I was thinking the Army Rangers. They're the first ones on the ground in war zones."

"Sounds dangerous. You're practically flying blind."

"Oh, but that's what makes it fun."

Hailey laughed. "You're an adrenaline junkie, aren't you?"

"Oh, yeah. I love rollercoasters...and anything else that gets my heart racing."

"Hear about that new coaster at Cedar Point?"

"Yeah!" Jay exclaimed. And, before he even had time to process what he was about to say, he blurted it out anyway. "Maybe we could go together sometime."

Did he just ask me out? Hailey thought to herself. "I'd like that." She smiled.

"Am I invited?" Will asked as he walked down the hallway, overhearing their conversation.

"Uh," Jay blanched.

"Dude, chill. I know you were trying to ask her out--"

Jay's phone rang before he could yell at Will to knock it off and Hailey just took a seat at the table blushing really badly while she did so.

"It's Kev," Jay said while glaring at his older brother. "I gotta take this." He accepted the call and started to walk down the hall to the bedroom that he shared with Will. "Hey, man."

Jay closed his bedroom door and sat on his bed. "Adam just told me that Evans tried to rape your sister?"

Jay ran a hand down his face. "Uh, yeah, if Kelly wouldn't have gotten there when he did, who knows what would've happened."

"Is she okay? Is he in jail? Is she in the hospital?"

Jay knew that Kevin would react protectively since he had a younger sister, Vanessa, who was in seventh grade, just two years younger than you.

"I mean, physically her injuries are just bruising." He took a deep, shaky breath to stop himself from crying. "I think they're holding Evans and we just got home from the hospital. Y/N's sleeping now."

"Evans is so fucking lucky I wasn't there. Adam said that Kelly beat his face in pretty bad, but I'd do worse. I probably would've killed him, at least given him brain damage from a concussion."

"You and me both."

"And, uh, Adam said the cops are gonna talk to all the football players?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah. The detective did mention that. He also told me and Will not to go after Evans, but--"

"You're not gonna listen?" Kevin asked.

"I'll probably wait two weeks so he thinks he's safe and then go after him. You're more than welcome to help."

"I'll cover for you that night."

"Thanks, man. So, the cops talk to you yet?" Jay asked.

"Not yet. But I really don't have anything to say. I didn't participate and I would never participate. Might mention that White never tried to stop it and Coach Davis said it was off-limits, though."

"You think Davis knew what was going on?" Jay asked.

"There's no way. If he knew, he would've kicked all of them off the team. He doesn't fuck with stuff like that. White, on the other hand, well, we both know how that cat rolls."

"I should've mentioned that when they were talking to me earlier this morning. I was just, I was so worried about Y/N."

"I get it. I'd be the same way if this happened with Vanessa. I'll tell them about it. You just make sure she's okay. And, if you, her, Will, or your mom need anything, gimme a call. I'd be happy to help."

"Thanks, Kev."

"Good luck planning your revenge. Tell me what the cover is."

"Oh don't worry, I will."

***

Two weeks later

Jay popped the screen out of his window. "You can put this back in, right?" he asked Will.

"Yeah, yeah. I got it. Go give Evans hell for what he did to Y/N," he replied as he got out of bed and stood by the window.

"You know, still time for you to come with me."

"I got accepted to college already. I'm not about to jeopardize that. Cover still that Kev called and needed help babysitting Vanessa and Jordan?"

"That's the one. I'll crash at his house after this is done just so it seems believable. See you tomorrow."

"See you. Don't get beat up too badly."

Jay scoffed. "Yeah right."

Then, he started the three-mile walk to Derek Evan's house.

So, Jay had decided not to actually beat him up because his parents were home and he didn't want to have to deal with the parents. Derek and the cops he could handle, but having his parents yell that they want to press charges and scream at him, yeah no. He had stashed a can of black spray paint in a bush in his front yard and grabbed it when he was leaving. He planned on spray painting rapist on Derek's white car. Even though he didn't technically rape you, he tried to, so the word still stands.

Jay got there and pulled his hat down over his face. Then, he walked up the driveway and to Derek's car. He shook the can of spray paint and took the cap off. His finger was down on the button--

"Chicago PD!"

Fuck.

***

"Your last name's Halstead?" the cop who picked him up asked when they entered the 21st District.

"Yes, sir," he answered, his head hanging low and the can of spray paint still in his hand.

"Well, I need you to take a seat right there while I make a phone call. Do not move."

"Yes, sir."

Jay sat down on the bench across from the front desk and pulled out his phone. He sent texts to both Kevin and Will.

Cops caught me. At a police station right now. Will, don't you fucking dare tell Mom.

They replied that they were shocked, but Kevin said he could always come pick Jay up if he needed it. He figured Jordan and Vanessa would be okay by themselves for half an hour. And Will promised he wouldn't tell Mom...unless Jay needed bail money, then he'd have to tell her.

"Halstead," a gruff voice barked from the side of him.

Jay looked up to be met with one of the detectives who had worked your case. But, instead of being in his uniform, he was in normal clothes. The only thing that could tell anyone that he was a cop was the badge pinned to his jeans and the gun in its holster at his side.

Jay stood up.

"I had a feeling something like this might happen," Hank Voight stated. "So, I put a patrol car in front of the Evans' house."

"Am I under arrest?" Jay asked.

"You're not. But follow me."

Hank opened the door to the office next to where the bench was and Jay followed him in.

"Have a seat." Jay sat down in the chair in front of the desk and Hank sat in the chair behind the desk. If Jay didn't know any better, he'd say he was in the principal's office. "Jay, listen."

"Wait, how do you know I'm not Will?" Jay asked.

"I know that Will had red hair. And, you told the responding officer your full name, remember?"

"Yes, sorry."

"It's okay. A little questioning never hurt anybody. But, Jay, listen. You can't go and beat this kid up or destroy or vandalize his property." Jay opened his mouth to protest, but Hank put a hand up to stop him. "I understand that you're angry and want to get revenge for your sister. But, that's not going to make it like it didn't happen. And, you'd be the one getting in trouble, not him. Severide already did a number on him."

"But, Y/N doesn't want a trial because she doesn't want to relive it!" Jay argued. "I just have to let him get away with it?"

"He's not going to get away with it, I can promise you that. I just don't want you to be the one getting in trouble for bringing a little justice to the world. I can promise you justice will be served, though."

"How? If there's no trial and I can't go after him, how will justice be served?"

"Jay, just let it run its course. Now, I'm assuming your mom doesn't know you're here?"

"No, she doesn't. I planned on going to a friend's house after."

"I'll drive you there. All this vandalism stuff will stay between me, you, and the patrolman."

Jay's jaw dropped. "Wow, thank you so much."

"Hey, I would've done the same thing if I was in your shoes. Now, c'mon, let's get you to that friend's house."

***

One month later

It was your mom's first day back to work. She said she would stay home longer if you wanted her to, but you told her you were fine. And, she thought that as well because you had been coming out of your room more these past two weeks.

You walked to the kitchen to go get some water which was normal for you. All you had been doing since you were almost raped was sleeping. You'd occasionally have dinner with your family, but that was it. You also started seeing a therapist a week after the attempted rape, which helped immensely. But, when she saw your symptoms, she had suggested anti-depressants after you had talked to her for a couple weeks. So, you were on them.

After a week, you started to gain some energy back. It wasn't back to normal yet, but it was enough that you would watch movies and tv shows, read, and journal in your room instead of lying in bed staring at the ceiling and sleeping all day.

You were on your way back to your room with your glass of water when you heard a familiar opening line to one of your favorite Disney Channel movies: Lemonade Mouth.

You poked your head into the living room. "Are you guys watching Lemonade Mouth?" you asked your brothers.

"We were gonna change it to watch some hockey," Jay said. Then, he saw Will's pointed look. "But, if you want to watch Lemonade Mouth, then we can."

Will paused the tv. "Are you sure?" you asked.

"We're sure," Will replied. "I'll go make us some popcorn while you get comfortable."

And thus started the plan of watching a movie every night to get you out of your room. Sometimes, Will would have too much homework, so you'd watch a movie with Jay. Sometimes Jay would have a soccer game, so you'd watch a movie with Will. Sometimes, Will would have a ton of homework and Jay would have a soccer game, so you'd watch a movie with your mom. Either way, it was nice to know that they were there for you and that you didn't have to talk about anything with them.

"Hey, like my new shirt?" Jay asked.

"When did you go shopping?" Will asked as he looked up from his textbook.

"Practice got canceled because Coach is sick and Hailey wanted to get some food and go to Goodwill, so we got food and went to Goodwill."

"Jesus, man, you are so whipped. Didn't you just become boyfriend and girlfriend last week?"

"Yes. Y/N you-- what's wrong?"

Your breath was caught in your throat and you felt like you couldn't breathe. If you could see yourself right now, you knew you'd look like a ghost.

"Nothing. I- I just need to get some water and then I'm gonna go take a nap."

"Okay," Will started, "you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

You walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water, but you also grabbed your bottle of antidepressants and put them in the pocket of your sweatshirt. Then, you made your way to your bedroom and locked the door.

How the hell did Jay manage to find the exact same shirt at a thrift store? It was a navy blue shirt with the Abercrombie and Fitch logo on it...the same exact shirt Derek was wearing on the night of the party.

It all came flooding back to you. You screaming...him slapping you...you crying...

You couldn't breathe.

"Ahhh!" you sobbed and dropped to your knees and curled up into a ball, taking the pills out of your pocket.

You continued sobbing and then you heard a knock on your door and heard the doorknob rattle.

"Y/N, Y/N, I need you to open this door," Will told you.

"No! Leave me alone!" you yelled.

"Can't do that. Mom left us in charge since she went back to work. If you don't open this door in three seconds, we're coming in somehow."

He got to two and you relented and opened the door.

"Y/N...what--"

You thrust the bottle of pills in his hand. "Take them! Take them, please!"

"Were you...?"

"I don't know! I don't know, Will! Just get them away from me!"

He pocketed them. "Okay, what's going on? What happened?"

Jay came around the corner.

"It's the same- the same--"

"Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath for me and then we can talk about this."

After five minutes of Will calming you down, you were finally able to catch your breath enough to talk.

"Jay's got the same shirt!" you wailed.

"The same shirt as who?" Will asked gently, careful not to touch you for fear that it would send you into another anxiety attack.

"Derek!"

Will turned around. "Jay, go rip that fucking shirt off and fucking burn it!" Jay just stood there, shellshocked. "Jay!"

He turned around and went to his room to take it off and get rid of it.

"Now, can I give you a hug?" Will asked. You nodded and allowed him to embrace you. When he pulled away, he asked, "Were you really going to do that? With the pills?"

"I- I don't think so," you told him. "I just saw them when I was getting water and grabbed them. I don't want to die."

"That's good. That's really good. But, you know we have to talk to Mom about this, right?"

"Yeah. And, I know I'm supposed to go back to school next week, but I- I don't think I can handle it, Will."

"Then we'll talk to her about that, too."

Jay ran out of his room--in a different shirt--holding his phone in his hand and looking frantic. "We have to go now!" he yelled.

"Why?" Will asked. "Where?"

"Mom just called and said she had to check out Hailey in the hospital."

***

"Hailey!" Jay yelled as he entered her room. He saw her bruised face and her arm in a sling. "Baby, what happened?"

"He- he--" And then she erupted into sobs and reached her good arm over to Jay.

You noticed that one of the officers who worked your case was also in the room.

"Hailey, honey, do you want to press charges?" Trudy Platt asked.

"I can't!" she wailed as she lifted her head off of Jay's chest. "I know I called you, but he's my dad!"

Jay let go of her. "Your dad did this? That son of a--"

"Jay!" your mom yelled.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Hailey reached for her water, but you noticed it was slightly out of her reach so you handed it to her. You hated seeing the girl who you considered your best friend in this much pain, at the hands of her father of all people.

Since you were only in school for less than a month before everything happened and didn't have time to form real, long-lasting friendships you didn't really have any close friends besides Hailey. And now, you knew how she felt when she saw you in that hospital bed six weeks ago.

"Hailey, I can't let you go back to that house," Trudy said.

"But I don't want to press charges! Can't you just pretend you didn't see that? That I didn't call you?" Hailey argued.

"Honey, since you're a minor, I'm supposed to press charges no matter what."

"But he's my dad!" she cried. "I know he's horrible, but I don't want him to rot in prison."

"Hailey, listen to me," Trudy began. "I am giving you an out here. I won't press charges, but for me not to press charges, I need you to be in a safe home."

"You're saying I need to find to find someplace else to live?" she asked.

Trudy nodded.

"Mom, can she...?" Jay asked as he looked up at his mom.

In that moment, your mom saw in Hailey what she had seen in you six weeks ago: a scared little girl who needed the comfort and love of a parent. And, your mom knew she wasn't her actual parent, but she had been over so much recently that it was hard for her to see Hailey as just one of Will's classmates...especially now since she was your best friend and Jay's girlfriend.

"She can stay. As long as she doesn't mind sharing a room with Y/N," your mom agreed.

And, it was that day that Hailey Upton decided that she wanted to become a cop.

***

Hank Voight pulled over Derek on his way home from school.

"Is there a problem, officer?" Derek asked as he rolled down his window.

"First of all, it's detective. And second of all, there is a problem. The problem is that you almost raped a girl," he stated.

"And she didn't file charges, so until she does, I didn't do that."

Hank reached over and grabbed Derek Evans by the collar. "Listen here. In two weeks, you are going to write a letter to your parents saying that you're running away because of all the ridicule you've faced because of this. And then, you're going to meet me at this address." He thrust a piece of paper into his hand. "Oh, and if you think I'm not serious, let me know if your principal shows up to school tomorrow because I can promise you he won't be there. He'll be in prison...or dead. I'll let you think over which one it is." He let go of his collar. "If I were you, I'd show up or it will be a whole lot worse for you."

Derek swallowed. "Okay."

***

Two weeks later

Hailey was settling in at your house, but you still weren't ready to go back to school.

"Y/N," your mom called from the kitchen. You walked out there. "I talked to one of your counselors. They said that they think online school would be helpful. Is that something you might be interested in?"

You never thought your mom would cave to this, but you were on cloud nine. "Yes, please."

"Okay, but can you try to go back at the beginning of next year?"

"I don't know, Mom."

"That's okay. I shouldn't have asked you that. You'll know when you're ready." She paused. "But, one of the things I'm worried about is you not getting any social interaction."

Will walked out of his room. "What if I do it with her?" he asked. "I could go to school for my AP classes and then take the other ones online. The AP ones are really the only ones that matter."

"Will, it's your senior year," your mom argued.

"I know. I can still do all the fun senior stuff, but I wouldn't have to be at school all day."

"Can I do it, too?" Jay asked. "And, I can still go to school for math and English because we know how I am in those subjects. I can even ask Hailey and text some friends if they want to do online school, too," he suggested.

Tears formed in your eyes. Your brothers were giving up their high school experiences for you.

"Boys, I don't know--"

"Mom, you said the issue was social interaction," Will began, "if we're there and other people are there, she wouldn't be missing out on social interaction."

Your mom sighed. "Are you two sure about this? This isn't a decision you can take lightly." They both said they were sure. "Okay, I'll call the school."

"I'll ask Hailey and make some phone calls," Jay said.

And so, three days later, you, your brothers, Hailey, Kim, Adam, Kevin, Natalie, Stella, and Kelly were all sitting in a coffee shop working on online school.

***

Derek Evans walked a block before he got in Hank Voight's car.

"You have everything?" Hank asked, referring to Derek's backpack filled with clothes, toiletries, and other necessities.

"Yes, sir," Derek answered. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," was all Hank said and then he started driving.

They pulled up to a dirt area on the water with four huge silos. "What are we doing here?" Derek asked.

"Get out of the car."

Derek listened and then Hank followed him around the car. He pulled his gun out of his holster and pressed the cool, black metal against Derek's temple. Derek froze.

"Walk," Hank commanded.

Derek listened and he walked with Hank still holding a gun to his head.

Hank told him to stop and then he drew a line in the dirt with his foot.

"You see this line?" he asked.

"Uh huh," Derek answered while visibly shaking.

"If you ever cross this line again, there will be a bullet in your head. Walk and don't come back." Hank lowered his gun and Derek started walking, not looking back, doing exactly as Hank had told him to do. "Nobody fucks with my city, Evans," Hank said to his retreating back. "Nobody. Not even you."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this rewrite! Thank you for reading! Please remember to reblog/like and comment because I always love when those notifications pop up and I love reading your comments!And, if you like my writing, you can support me at buy me coffee here. It's only a dollar and it's through Paypal and any currency can be used, no subscription required! (I write these fics for free, so I figured I'd try this out!) As always, if you want ti be added to my taglist, just comment that and I’ll add you

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