#P much everyone else is figured out- these four are confusing me HARD.

[ghosted-jazz]

I'm making Traffic as Pokemon gym leaders! I need help figuring out Martyn!!

Everyone is based off their Secret Life characters. Martyn and the rest of the previous winners are the Elite Four, who have themes based off their winning season.

Vote based off Martyn.

Everyone else is there to show how things would be shuffled based on Martyn's type specialty. Any suggestions on teams or types are welcomed in the reblogs 👍

[hellishjoel]

burning desire

10.3k // pairing:dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

summary: An argument with your mother before family dinner leaves Joel worried about you. He sneaks you away to grab a drink and talk about what’s on your mind. 

warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, dbf/neighbor!joel, soft-hot-protective!joel, rocky mother-daughter relationship (this one ain't for the weak - mommy issues galore) & discussions of verbal fighting, slight clues of abandonment issues, smut, swearing, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel in his 40s), pet names, praise!kink activated, unprotected p in v (yes finally, the edging is over), mentions of birth control,  slight cockwarming if you squint, slight degradation kink

A/N: I crave three things after writing this chapter: Joel, Joel Miller, Joel fucking Miller. Also, I’m almost done with The Last of Us Part 1 :(( sad that it’s ending, but it’s been so much fun to play! Enjoy this chapter <3 

Your parents make good on their invitation and ask Joel over for dinner. A steak dinner, to be exact. Paired with wine, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a pie your parents picked up from the local bakery in town. 

You sort of hope Joel pulls out his long list of excuses to evade any awkwardness. 

Sorry, can’t tonight. I’m finishin’ up somethin’ for work. Can’t wait another day. 

Or,

Hey, maybe another night. Not feelin’ too hot. 

When in reality, it’s more like, 

I can’t come over for dinner tonight because I might bend your daughter over my truck if I see her again. 

As active as you and Joel have been, you have yet to hit a home run in lewd baseball terms. In fact, all the bases in your and Joel’s game were totally screwed up. You hit third base before you hit first, and you weren’t even sure if there was a second base. It was all just so confusing now. 

But you wanted the home run, you wanted Joel, you desired him in that light. You wondered if he was ready for it. 

Screwed over by your father asking Joel over for dinner and screwed over by Joel agreeing, you had no other choice but to sit through it and act like everything was normal. 

And everything was normal for the first half of the day before you and your mother got into it. 

The argument was recycled. You wished she would come up with better material. But it always came down to what you wanted to do after this summer since you recently graduated. And that was an ongoing war. 

After two door slams, your mother retreating to her bunker, and you finding shelter in the bathroom, you’d say today’s battle was over. 

You sit on the floor, bare feet touching cold tile. In a way, it soothes your shaky body. 

No matter how old you get, this feeling never seems to waver with its intensity. The feeling that no one’s listening, no matter how hard you scream for them to hear you. Regardless of how often you have these conversations, you become a small child again, being scolded and told that what you thought and wanted wasn’t right. 

You managed to collect your journal expertly hidden in your bedroom before fleeing to the safety of the bathroom. You flip open the pages with teary eyes. 

You wish you didn’t have to admit that this was your safe space. On the bathroom floor, back flushed against the dark wood door as you closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing. 

June 17th  2:28 P.M. 

Mom started a fight with me about not traveling again. She says it’s crucial for me to start my career immediately. I don’t even know what I want to be yet. 

You have to pause to blink back tears. You wish you had your life figured out like it felt everyone else did. 

Why does she have to care so much that I want to leave for a little bit? It’s not like it’s forever. There’s so much more out there. I’ve studied miscellaneous classes for four years and want a break. Why do we always have to have this conversation over and over again? She always asks how I will take care of student loans and bills. I have repeatedly told her that I’ve been saving up for a while to do this. She keeps saying she wants what’s best for me and doesn’t want me to start my career too late. She says it’s hard to let me go.

I love her, and I appreciate her support through school, but school is what taught me about independence as well as academics. I want to live my life and have experiences you can only get by leaving home for a little bit. Maybe then I’ll better understand what I want for my future. 

Your writing pauses, and you stare straight ahead at the beige wall, blurry eyes reading another cheesy sign. Bathroom - Open 24 Hours - Seat Yourself. 

You decide to spare a moment of your mother’s casualties and pencil in something else that’s been recently stirring. 

I’ve been seeing Joel Miller casually since the start of this summer. I can’t believe I’m even writing this. It’s weird -- but in a way, it’s also not? He’s older by like a mile, but he’s familiar, comfortable. Easy to talk to. It doesn’t feel like he’s judging me. I’m not trying to read too much into it, but this summer sucks less because of Joel. Whether he knows it or not. 

---

You and your mother work around each other while setting up dinner in the backyard garden. She steps back inside to grab more wine glasses. 

You’ve put on a nice summer dress. The hem lands somewhere on your thighs and flows with the breeze. After sobbing on the cold bathroom tile for an hour, you don't feel very pretty, but eating outside and soaking up some fresh air might make you feel better.

“Hey, sweetheart.” 

Joel Miller was the largest, broadest, lumberjack-est man you had ever met, but he moved as quietly as a mouse. Your eyes blink a few times as you haphazardly set down the bowl of mashed potatoes on the circular table. 

“Hi.”

Your voice is raw and red, softer than usual. Joel seems to instantly take notice. You see it in the way his eyes soften. He moves a little closer, hands resting on the back of one of the white outdoor dining chairs. 

Your face probably reads more panicky than intended. He picks up on your faulty mood and assumes the worst. 

“Do they.. Do they know?” He asks, eyebrows knitted with a deep furrow in between. 

Your eyes go doe-ish, shaking your head and occupying your hands with a spare cloth napkin.

“What? No. Why would you think that?” 

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to. He takes one long look over your being and you feel it in the space between you. 

Somethin’s wrong. 

Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, Joel. 

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing on you more. 

Suddenly, you felt exposed. Like someone had ripped the curtain open on you. No one had ever seen right through you like this before. It was unsettling, but god, you just wanted to lean right into it. 

If your parents weren’t just inside, you’d walk right into his front and curl your head in his chest just under the hook of his chin. You’d close your eyes and wrap your small arms around his waist. 

He’d encircle you in his big, protective arms and shield you from the pain you’ve felt today. You’d listen to his heart thrumming against his chest, using the rhythm to try and slow down your breathing while he whispers to you in his sweet southern drawl.

S’alright, sweetheart. Everything’s gonna be okay. I see you tryin’. 

His eyes flitter into light again, ease passing across his features. 

“Like the dress.” He looks over you with a condescending little smirk. This man has never seen you in a dress in your life. 

“Shut up. It’s just for dinner.”

He lets out a cocky little tut. “‘Cause you knew I was comin’ over?”

When you look up at him again, his hand gently rests over yours. You don’t have time to appreciate it; the sliding back door opens, and your father’s big booming laughter shakes the nearby lake. Joel’s subtle touch is instantly gone. 

“Joel! So good to see you! Hey, great bonfire a few weeks ago.”

You take a deep breath and excuse yourself from the shop talk. You don’t want to be alone with your mother in the house, but the table still needs to be set up. You work around each other in silence. She grabs the salad, you grab the dinner rolls and green beans. You could hear a pin drop. 

---

Dinner would have been better if you had an appetite. You spent the majority of your time making a tilled farm field out of your mashed potatoes. You’d flatten out your helping with a fork and then gently run the fork’s ribs through the moldable potatoes and create little crop lines out of it. You don’t always play with your food, but you weren’t really up for conversation. Your mother takes notice. She hates it. She hates that you were letting your personal problems exist in the company of others. 

The only time you looked up even slightly was when Joel started talking. Sort of a calm in an unknown storm, you suppose. He looked so handsome without even really trying. You wore a crooked smile as you looked over the dark green button-up he was wearing. It was starting to be your favorite color, he wore it so well. 

There were points where your parents would turn to each other. And Joel would turn to you. It was sort of a silent check-in. 

Under the protection of the table, his hand found your knee, his big fingers lightly playing with the hem of your dress. It was the first time you cracked a real smile all dinner. Your hand ghosted over his, your nails lightly running soothing, slow lines on the underside of his wrist by his watch. 

You doin’ okay?

Mhm.

It didn’t dawn on you that Joel might have felt he did something to cause your saddened mood. And this was his way of asking. You bit down on your lower lip, feeling his fingers lightly interlock with yours over your knee. Your eyelashes flutter at the warmth it propels through your body. It was just what you needed. Everything was going to be okay. 

---

You’re working over a stubborn steak juice stain on a plate as the sun sets over the lake and glistens a soft yellow-orange hue through the windows in the kitchen. Your parents are moving around you while you rinse the dishes, back turned to them as they spoke in mundane conversation and pack up leftovers.

You don’t see him, but you can feel Joel’s presence as he enters the doorway. He watches you. He watches your parents. You wonder what he sees. The next thing you know, he’s shaking your parents hands and bidding them goodnight. 

He stops at you. As the running faucet splashes against a few forks and a wine glass, you spare him a glance. 

“Walk me out?” Your parents take notice of his ask. And not in the way you expect. 

You tilt back and forth on your feet, looking back to the dishes. You really just wanted to finish what was left to clean and read in your room for the rest of the night. 

“Uhm-”

“Go on and walk him out, honey. We’ll see you soon, Joel. Thanks for stoppin’ in.” 

Your eyes go from Joel’s, to your parents. If they were anything, at least they were oblivious. 

You and your mother share a look before she sighs and exits the kitchen. Your jaw loosens, not even realizing how hard you were grinding your teeth while looking at her. 

“Yeah. Okay.” Your murmured voice is barely audible above the gushing sink faucet. After you set the plate on the drying rack and smear your wet hands on a dish towel, you walk Joel outside. 

The night breeze off the lake sets in a layer of goosebumps up your arms. 

Joel’s boots scuff against the gravel and dirt in his driveway, his footsteps pausing at his truck and turning to face you. 

The rising moon and setting sun work in unison to highlight his aquiline nose and silver-sprinkled jawline. He’s charmingly handsome. Rugged features meet a stone facade. 

You take a hesitant look back into the house. The kitchen light is still on, but no one is in the small windows. 

“You wanna tell me what’s really goin’ on with you?” He crosses his arms, cocking his leg out as he leans his weight onto one of his hips. 

You muster up a shrug and fold your hands around your arms to keep the light chill away. It felt like you couldn’t tell the truth, the house and your parents inside watching over you. The pressure of it all makes your shoulders lurch up a bit into your neck. 

But Joel continues to press you. You’re making him nervous, you think, because he’s not accustomed to seeing you so quiet. 

“Are you..” His words falter and fall off, and you can see the frown creased into his mouth.  “You’re wantin’ t’stop seein’ each other?” 

“What?” Now you’re the one frowning, closing the gap between you and Joel and taking him by his hand to the other side of the truck, using it as a shield between you and the rest of the world. Your back flushes against his driver-side door. 

“No, I don’t want to stop seeing you, Joel.” You frown and squeeze his hand a little tighter in assurance. “Trust me. You’re kind of..” You struggle to make the words fit. Nothing seems right. You’re kind of the only person I want to be around right now.

Joel looks a little relieved. He doesn’t make you finish your sentence. He seems to connect the dots. Joel looks from your solemn face to the house behind you—the cause of your ill-stricken mood. 

“How about we grab a drink n’talk.” It’s not a question, exactly, it’s more like a command. 

You don’t want to talk about what happened, and you have a sneaking suspicion that if you two go off together, your parents will be asking questions. 

You push the toe of your sneaker into the gravel and twist slowly back and forth. 

“I should just head back inside. My parents are probably waiting up for me, anyway. Cleanup duty.” You say unenthusiastically with a dash of sarcasm. Joel’s eyes are looking past you, still at the house. You turn around to follow his eyeline. All the lights in the house have been turned off—even the porch light. Joel scowls at the sight, thinking how he always leaves the light on for Sarah. 

The caged-in feeling returns, your chest tight as you look to your feet and try to breathe through the ache your heart held. You wanted to get out of here, and now. 

“Never mind.” You bite down on your lower lip to hold it together. “Let’s go.” 

You’re already swinging open Joel’s door, rust creaking at the joints as you slide into the passenger seat. These old trucks with no center console were so cool to you. Maybe you'd appreciate it more if you weren’t in such a shitty mood. But Joel’s already in the truck beside you, the warmth he’s radiating was welcome. His key turns in the ignition, and it clicks a few times before the engine roars to life. 

You don’t talk, he doesn’t force you to. You feel at peace putting some distance between you and the lakehouse. 

Joel drives past neighborhoods with funny street names.  Thunderbird Lane. Firefly Drive. Sugar Loaf Lane.

As the sun just finishes setting, the whole town is covered in an orange glow that will soon fade to purple. Everything flies by your window, and moving at this speed feels like the cage is lifting around your chest, the clasps on your wrist snapping free. 

Rolling down the window makes the breeze funnel into the truck and flow through your hair. Before you know it, your body is halfway out of the window. 

“What ‘n God’s name do you think you’re doin’?” Joel’s tone was warning, his fist catching your dress in a fist around your lower back in an attempt to make sure you didn’t get thrown out of the truck.  “Get back in here.” 

You turned back so Joel could see you, eyes lit, and a smile from ear to ear. His hold slowly loosens at the sight before him. 

Back arched out the window, he drives a little slower and towards the center of the road. You look up, arms outstretched into the night air as you breathe everything in. Fresh lungs, filled with a new perspective, no tears left to cry as you hang out of Joel’s window. The stars gleam, and the universe is vast.

Oh my god. You hear yourself mumble, feeling freedom reeling through your entire body. And like that, you were new again. 

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips. You’re back in the truck now, and you roll the window up but not completely closed. The wind still tickles a breeze into your thrown-about hair. You look to Joel, his eyes already on yours. 

Joel sees your fire has been re-lit, thrashing out licks of flame and building in intensity. He adores you wild and free.

“Better?”

You fix the space between you, your body melting into his side as your head lazily rolls onto his shoulder. His heavy arm finds its way around the tops of your shoulders to keep you sedentary. 

“Much better.” 

---

He ends up passing the central part of town. It’s better this way. Go somewhere he won’t be recognized with a woman half his age. He’s the one who lives in town throughout the year. You and your family only visit in the summer. It doesn’t help that the town is small, and Joel is one of a handful of skilled contractors in the area. 

His rusted truck lulls to a jittery stop outside a small bar lit by a red neon sign reading, Past Lives. You wander inside, passing empty barstools and a glowing dartboard, while your sneakers crunch peanut shells littering the ground. You nearly slipped on a large pile of them, but Joel’s hand was firmly on your bicep before you could flail any further. 

“You might be the clumsiest woman I’ve ever met.” He mutters, annoyance passing over his features. 

You roll your eyes and scoot onto one of the tall barstools at a small square table against the wall. “I doubt that’s true.” 

He shrugs his shoulders and cracks open a peanut, tossing it into his mouth. “You’re right. Your mother is the clumsiest woman I know. You get it from her. Once, I watched her glide five or six feet down the end of the dock and land in the water.” 

An ill feeling passes over you again, pursing your lips as you trace your finger around the small bowl Joel is picking his peanuts from. 

Joel halts his movements, chewing included, and watches as your eyes stare meaninglessly at the table. 

“Never really seen you like this. Thought I’d like it if you were quiet for once. But now it just feels out of character.” 

Joel’s boot teasingly nudges your sneaker under the table. His brown eyes look warm despite the lack of light in the dingy bar. Your stomach twists thinking about how he looked under the moonlight just half an hour ago. 

Those pretty eyes of his meet yours. Soft. Kind. “Talk to me.”

A beaten-up sigh leaves your lips, tugging at the hem of your dress. 

After a drink or two, you tell Joel everything he missed before dinner. How you and your mother fought. How it was all venom and tears, leaving you cold and alone on the bathroom tile. By the time the battle came to a halt, there was no clear winner or loser. 

Joel’s an attentive listener. He doesn’t interrupt. He knows when to prompt you need a push. Joel’s pile of peanut shells has turned into a small molehill. The ice in your drink sloshes around as you start talking with your hands. 

“I love her, I mean, she’s my mom. But she’s always fought me on this. This-this-...”  

“The traveling,” Joel assists, his large hand nursing a small glass of whiskey. He looks amused like he enjoys watching you spew. You supposed he feels more relieved to see you explode like this rather than holding it all in.

“And-and it’s so much more than that! She fought me about leaving Texas for school, she fought me about doing a semester abroad, she just can’t let me go, it’s suffocating!” 

You didn’t mean to sound so passionate, and you hadn’t realized how vocal you became until someone slowly clapped on the other side of the bar in appreciation. You stifled a laugh and put your head shyly in your hands. 

He nods slowly, waiting to see what you’ll say next. You’re using him like you’re journaling at home, now it’s just interactive. 

You sigh and pinch at the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes as you listen to an old country slow song humming throughout the bar. 

“Didn’t even wanna come back this year.” Your words are barely above a murmur. 

This makes Joel pause. “What d’you say?” 

You sit up straight and sigh, crossing one leg over the other under the table. These stupid drinks are making you tell the truth. Be more vulnerable than you would ordinarily be. But it’s also because you’re talking to Joel, and he’s always been interested in what you have to say. 

“I didn’t want to come back this year. These past few years, I didn’t come back to Danbury because I sort of- purposely- busied up my summer. Internships, work, anything to keep me busy and out from under their-their….” You pause to make hand gestures that are wide and all-encompassing. 

Joel juts his jaw out to the side, lips pursed before he speaks again. 

“M’happy you came back.”  

There’s a moment of silence. Joel’s eyes aren’t on yours anymore. He’s swirling his glass around slowly and watching his ice rotate in a sloppy circle. You slowly start to smile as he looks bashful. 

“What did you say, Mr.Miller?” You pry teasingly, reaching your hand over and gently stroking his watch band. The nickname makes his eyes narrow on yours. 

“Nothin’. Forget about it.” He throws back the last of his drink, and you’re cooing for him to continue. 

“Wha- Joel, come on! Why did you say that?” 

He’s just trying to buckle down his smile, hiding it with his whiskey glass and shaking his head. 

“Didn’t say nothin’.”

“Yes, you so did. Don’t even try to lie.” 

“I’ve never lied a day in my life.”

Your eyes go wide, and now you’re smacking his forearm. He’s shoving quarters at you now, sliding them to your side of the table as a form of distraction. 

“Can you just-” He scoffs under his breath and rolls his eyes, finalizing his quarter total to four. “-fuck off, go put a song on the jukebox.” 

You sneer at him but obey. You look for something particular, pausing on Little Lies by Fleetwood Mac, smirking at him as you punch in his quarters. He seems confused as to why you stay standing at the jukebox. 

The chorus hits, and you point accusingly at him as you do so. 

“Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies,” you can’t even finish before your right foot catches on more slippery peanut shells, freezing like you were caught on ice skates and trying not to fall. 

Joel’s hand has a vice grip on your bicep again until you regain your balance. God. Your face gathers heat as you snatch your phone off the table, and he lets out a laugh at your expense. 

“Can’t sing,”

“Hey-”

“Can’t walk in a straight line.”

“I had like four drinks.”

“Two.” He corrects. There’s no hiding that you’re just unbearably uncoordinated. 

“God. Just- get me out of here, Miller.” 

Joel was biting back a smile. He likes teasing you, taunting you. Only because you know how to serve it back to him. 

“Not until you see this. Wanna show you somethin’.” He sets down his whiskey and lays down cash to cover the tab. 

You start your stride, and Joel’s already looking at you with instilled concern. You insist I’m fine. Go on. You follow him through a narrow hallway towards the restrooms, an exit door lit up with a red sign over it. 

The walls are filled with signs, pictures, and letters, all illuminated by a soft flickering strip light.  These were trails that people had left along the way, passing through the bar and leaving a piece of them behind for strangers to admire. It was like a memory wall. 

Joel leans back against the men’s restroom doorframe, arms crossed as he silently admires the wall. And you. 

Your fingers brush an old family picture timestamped from the late 80s. There were business cards, from bankers to bonds bailsman. 

You feel Joel’s hand cast warmth on your hip, guiding you further down the hall. You follow his eyeline to a large yellow-light spoiled wall map. There were push pins all in different parts of the world. 

“Look at all of these, Joel!” Your eagerness was evident as you stepped in front of him, finger flying from one point to the next, squinting past the tacks to read the cities people have visited. 

“Bangkok, Thailand. Paris, France. Of course. London, Dubai, Tokyo.” Your voice trails off, finger-stopping around the empty parts of the map that some of the bargoers had yet to venture off to. The pins around the state of Texas were ironic. 

You gently took a step back, Joel's broad and hardened front caressing your back. His arms gently wrap around you before they clasp at your front. You rest your temple against his bicep as you sigh. You found comfort in him tonight more than he could understand. 

Your neck cranes to the side and up, observing his defined jawline from below. “Have you ever been out of the country?” Your face is lit with excitement, only to fall as he slowly shakes his head. You turn back to the map, your fingers gently holding onto his muscular forearm. 

“Am I crazy for wanting to leave?” 

You can feel a heavy breath leave through Joel’s nose, the air fanning over the top of your head. 

“You’re not leavin’. You’re travelin’. You’ll come back, eventually.” 

The muscle in your jaw twitches, and your eyes move to the Eastern side of the map, spotting the tiny European countries. 

“Maybe my mom is so worried that if I decide to leave, I might not come back.” You say it as a joke. It makes Joel muster up a tut. But maybe, just maybe, you mean it.

---

You feel drops scatter from the dark black clouds overhead as you rush out to the truck, feeling the cold rain splash onto the exposed skin of your thighs.

Joel’s hot on your heels, doing his little side hop down the stairs and jogging lightly with his arms tucked into his sides. He’s already tossed you the keys to his truck. His body hovers over yours and shields the raindrops from landing on your head as you fiddle with unlocking the truck door. 

“Any day now.”

His babbling thwarts your concentration. 

“Fuck off, it’s like- rusted shut.” You tease before giving the handle one large tug, and it gives way with a creak. You slip in, dress hem tangling up on your upper thighs. Your hand flies to fix it instinctually, but you slow down when you see how adamantly Joel admires the exposed skin.

When you two make eye contact, he’s already cleared his throat and put the key in the ignition. He cranes his neck back to look out the rearview window, left hand cranking the wheel with precision while his right arm wraps around the back of your headrest. You swallow the lump in your throat, watching Joel reverse out of the bar’s parking lot and back onto the main road.

Your heart thumps, and you think he can hear it because his eyes are on yours when he turns back around. Magnetizing. And you have a hard time facing him without feeling a little shy. Because you’re thinking incredibly naughty things now. 

On the drive home, the rain pelts the truck and hard. Joel’s wimpy wipers are working at full speed. He’s not concerned because he knows these streets with his eyes closed. He turns up the radio a little bit to drown out the rain. He does it for you to ease your nerves. 

“You’re quiet.” He murmurs, his eyes still on the murky road in front of him. 

You can’t help but be quiet. He looks so fucking hot. As dim streaks of lightning skitter across the sky, you see the silver hairs in his mustache and beard. His rain-dampened curls are recoiling, fresh, and wavy. His thick neck was lined with strong veins and muscle.

“So are you.” You murmur back. 

His eyes catch you in sneaky glances. Your hair, pretty and dry since he shielded you in the bar’s parking lot. Dress half rumpled up your thighs, smooth skin of your legs exposed to his wandering pupils. 

The truck suddenly shifts, veering off the main road.  

“Woah,” you gasp, thinking the truck had slid at first. But Joel’s foot was still on the gas, cautiously guiding you off to a side road. You look around, covered by darkness and trees that shield your existence but do little to veil the obscene thoughts racing through your head. 

Joel finally throws the truck into a parked position, your eyes watching as his hand snaps the keys out of the ignition. 

He looks over at you expectantly. And you just deadpan. 

“Get over here." He says between gritted teeth, voice drenched in lust as he snaps off his seatbelt and then your own.

His large hands pull you in as soon as you’re free. You don’t waste another minute, straddling his lap and resting between him and his steering wheel.  

You clutch the collar of his dark green button-up, tugging him by his neck into your kiss. It’s messy and desperate, but you've wanted to taste him since dinner. His greedy hands are wrinkling your dress. The cold air tickles your warm thighs, and you whimper into his mouth. 

Joel’s kisses are rough but fluent; he speaks the language of your lips. You take a moment to admire how different the two of you are and how it feels like he’s the key to your lock. 

His warm palms slip up the front of your thighs as he kisses you, hasty and happy. He takes the hem of your dress with him. Joel is as warm as a furnace. He’s heating you from the inside out as your core begins to ache for him.

He pauses the kiss, large palm coming up to cup your cheek as his thumb traces along your lower lip. You take the time to catch your breath, feeling his own fog against the window next to you. 

“Not exactly the most romantic spot.” His eyes shift with lust-filled guilt. “M’sorry.” 

You work up a smile, leaning in to gently kiss his cheek and up his cheekbone. 

“It’s okay. We’re not romantic.” Your clarification feels like a lie. He doesn’t need to know that. 

The rain outside becomes blurred, and Joel’s looking through you again. Right through you. Your chest pounds under his watchful eyes. He sucks in the side of his cheeks, looks you up and down your face. 

Don’t lie to me. 

Don’t make me tell you the truth.

He decides to let you move on unscathed, your thighs clamping around his own with your knees at either side of his hips. His worry lines are stamped into his forehead as he looks over you cautiously. 

You break into a smile, unable to stand him looking at you like you’re a lost puppy. “Joel,” you whisper into his ear, soft lips giving his ear a kiss as your nose lightly brushes against his soft curls. Your voice drops to a whisper, sweet and divine. “Don’t make me beg, Mr. Miller.” 

Your lips suckle his earlobe and cast your tongue along the curve while his fingertips immediately dig deeper into the flesh of your hips. The sensation makes his cock twitch in his jeans. 

You smirk as you grind your hips into his lap, a suppressed grunt leaving his parted lips. He’s into it. “You like this, Mr. Miller?” Your words are murmured against the shell of his ear, teeth gently catching his earlobe and lightly tugging. 

Your words along with the rhythm of your hips over his lap have him in a tailspin. 

“Knock it off.” He warns, teeth gritted, a low growl emitting from his throat while he grips you at the waist to pause any movement. He looks so sexy snarling at you like this. Your hand reaches between you two, palming against his cock until you feel it swell into the heart of your hand. 

Joel is lazily planting kisses on the soft skin of your neck, he’s distracted by how good your hand feels. 

You take turns half undressing one another. Joel pushes your dress up to your waist and loops his index finger into the band of your panties. He guides them down with your assistance. You kick the material off your ankles and move to pop open each button of his long sleeve. He goes to shrug it off, but you smile and tighten your hold on the collar. 

“I like it on. Just wanna see your chest hair.” 

His mouth tilts into a crooked smirk.

“‘lright, then. Good to know.” He leans back in and places messy kisses on your exposed neck. You can feel how badly he wants to sink his teeth in, but you share the mutual rule of keeping those things below the collar. Out of sight, out of other people’s nosy minds. 

You struggle to admit that jimmying open his belt at this angle was pissing you off. You’re holding your breath until it clicks open, and you let out a sigh of relief. So does Joel. 

A gasp leaves your lips as Joel lifts the both of you up purely with the strength of his hips, a low grunt leaving his pouted lips as he pushes his jeans down to his knees, along with his boxers. You sit back down over him and feel his heavy shaft pressing against your slick center. His girth makes you whimper. 

The rhythm of the rain eases your racing heart. You take Joel’s pulsing member into your slightly shaky hand. 

“Nervous?” It’s not cocky or concerned, just curious. 

“M’not nervous.” You mutter, starting to pump his cock to get him to shut up. And it works. For a minute. 

His head falls back into the seat as he watches you in admiration, his own hand wandering between your spread legs and gliding two fingers through your slick. His forefinger grazes against your clit, and he has you whimpering again. 

“S’okay to be nervous.” His thumb slowly starts delicate circles into your bundle of nerves, and now he’s got your legs quivering. 

You’re chewing at the inside of your cheek, shifty eyes meeting his. You pace your words this time. “I’m not nervous, Joel.” You pull away from him to create a line of spit from your mouth, landing on his pink tip already drizzling in precum. You swallow your nerve and bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Not with you.” 

The mutual understanding links the two of you together, bound to the agreement in silence. You have a burning desire for one another. You’re scared, and he knows it. You push him to the limits, his heart beats for you. 

Steam fogs the windows of Joel’s truck. The rain dances a fine line between pounding and pouring to slow and subtle. 

Joel’s kisses lull you into a peaceful existence. You take off your dress, unable to stand anything between you and Joel. He’s warm as he wraps his arms around you, your tits flush against his thick chest. 

You line him up by his base, Joel’s trying to hold himself still under you. You’re focusing hard, and he kisses your temple to ease your thoughts. He murmurs something, but you’re too busy concentrating. 

His pink tip meets your warm flesh, and his tip slowly parts your walls. He’s seething between his teeth, how tight you are washes pleasure over his face. He wants you to go slow. You don’t want him to go easy on you. You can’t help but let his name tumble from your lips in desperation. 

“Joel,” you whine, one hand clenching the fabric of his button-up by his shoulder while the other still weakly holds his base. 

“M’here, baby.”

He’s rubbing soothing circles in your hips with his forefingers, trying to distract you from the stretch he’s creating inside you. 

His breaths are coming out in hot puffs. The truck isn’t cold anymore, in fact, it’s only steaming up. 

“So- fuckin’- tight.” He murmurs, eyebrows knitted together as his jaw was dropped open. 

It was sharp at first, but the further you sank over him, the more you couldn’t contain yourself. As soon as his balls were flushed against your core, you were kissing him. Hot and heavy, desperate and needy, can’t get enough of each other sort of kisses. One of his hands holds the back of your head to keep you close while your fingers are delicately feeling up his chest and mazing through salt and pepper hair. 

You smirk lazily against his lips, pulling away to rest your head on his shoulder. With this leverage, you start to roll your hips down onto his. Joel’s hands assist, squeezing your ass and guiding you smoothly up and down his shaft. You’re both moaning one another’s names, hazy eyes watching each other as long as they can before eventually drifting closed. 

You wished you weren’t fucking in his truck, your riding skills were a lot better than this, but if you try and pop up, your head will just smack into the roof. And he’ll make fun of you for as long as he knows you. 

“God- feel so good, Joel.” 

You’re panting already a few minutes in. You don’t want Joel to think you can’t do this, you don’t want his help. But your body is crammed in limited quarters, and you’re already sweating. 

He feels good. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s had sex. He’s not exactly the most outgoing of gentlemen. Thinking about him being with other women, maybe even women his age stirs a weird pit inside your stomach. 

One hand steadies itself on Joel’s forearm while the other gently clutches his cheek. You leave a messy moan against his ear. 

“Do you like fucking girls half your age, Mr. Miller?” You ask with a teasing smirk, messy kisses against his stubble and his ear ensuing. 

He’s grunting every time you throw yourself back into him, skin clapping against his thighs, his hands slipping from your hips to your ass and squeezing the juicy flesh. “-like fuckin’ you.” 

A low, extended groan leaves his lips as he holds your hips down, filling you full and having you sit with it. You throw your head back, and your eyes shudder closed with a loud moan occupying the truck. 

You tell yourself that you’re both just fuck happy. You can worry about the depth of Joel’s words later. He feels too good inside of you for the first time to give a shit.

Joel’s thrusts bring you back to life, hand landing against his window and leaving a print mark against the steamy glass. 

Joel senses your languid movements. He thinks you look pretty being fucked in his trunk during a thunderstorm. The darkness wraps the both of you up, only seeing flashes of each other’s features. He combs his large hand into your hair, catching your striking features with his hooded eyes. The slope of your nose. The curvature of your collarbones. Your pretty lips that he can’t stop staring at. 

Joel enjoys the control too much for you to be on top for a second longer. 

You collapse onto the truck’s long leather seat, lips parting in surprise as he maneuvers you to lie back without slipping from your entrance. 

“H-Holy fuck, Joel-” You’re breathless. 

Joel’s jaw clicks tighter as he flattens one of his large palms beside your head for leverage, hovering over you as he begins to methodically snap his hips into yours. Your desperate cries for more fill the truck. 

Both of you are horridly cursing, some in the form of whines and moans and others in the form of whispered grunts. 

Fuckin Christ-

Holy shit, Joel, please-

Feel so god damn good, princess-

Oh f- fuck me Joel, fuck me!

You’re already feeling the knots in your stomach tether tighter and tighter together, back arching as your chest brushes against his nose. 

Joel takes the opportunity and licks a hot stripe between your breasts. You know he tastes your glistening sweat, but the trail from his tongue makes you clench tighter around him. 

You catch Joel’s unfiltered groan in your mouth, his forehead resting against yours as his amber eyes grace yours. 

He’s close, you can see it in the way his features contort and his thrusts become more unpredictable. You had no idea he could fuck this good. 

Joel brings a hand up to your lips and offers you two fingers. You whimper but reluctantly take them past your mouth. You suckle and lather your tongue up and down each digit, it makes his cock twitch inside of you. 

He plucks his fingers free with a pop, a trail of spit extending from your bottom lip to your chin as he reaches between you both. 

Finding your swollen bundle of nerves doesn’t take him more than a second. You were so turned on it was almost painful. 

Joel’s tip sweetly kisses your cervix at this angle, and you are so close to spilling over. Your hands cup his face, pulling him into you as you share a messy kiss. You think about how scared you were to kiss him before, but now it makes you feel a sense of protection and safety. You wrap your arms around his neck, you need him close. 

“Joel,” you whimper, clenching your eyes closed and dropping your jaw as he finds the perfect rhythm circling your clit. 

“Can’t hear ya, baby,” He grunts into your ear. You can feel him tiredly smirking against your cheek, knowing he’s fucking you so good you’re struggling to find the words. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, your legs clenching tighter at the sides of his hips. “M’on birth control, finish inside me,” you whisper against his ear. 

You can hear him let out a short, breathy chuckle against your ear. It only drives him more, knowing he can fill you up. 

“Y’sure, sweetheart?” 

“Want to?” 

His teeth are gritted as he growls into your ear. “Course I wanna fill your sweet cunt up.” 

It was hopeless after that. 

A crack of thunder and a strike of lightning conspire, your view of Joel illuminating his gorgeous face in a white-silver flash. 

The tight coils inside you snap free, a broken moan of his name being the last thing you remember saying before white stars filled your vision. Your hold on Joel loosens as your orgasm crashes through you ungracefully, making you twitch and rut your hips below him. 

His fingers and his thrusts don’t stop. He rides out your orgasm, following suit until he flushes his hips against yours and lets out a heavenly groan of your name. You’re still under him, vision blurry and hearing fuzzy. He finds solace in the crook of your neck, nuzzling a home for himself in the space and losing himself deep inside you. 

His body shudders lightly as he finishes, spilling white streams into you for who knows how long. Your hand is gently stroking the hair at the back of his head, fingers combing through dark curls as he breathes hot air against your neck. 

You both slowly blink back to life. He’s complimenting you, but you’re too blissed out to hear the details. 

So good, baby… Such a pretty fuckin’ girl... So lucky. 

Joel tuts softly as he attempts to free his softened length, but you whine and tighten your legs around his hips to keep him stationary. 

Your eyelashes flutter as you feel gentle kisses by the corners of your eyes, tiredly smiling as you open them before slowly sitting up onto your elbows. Joel takes the opportunity to pull out and yank his boxers and jeans back into place, securing his belt last. 

He still keeps his shirt unbuttoned for you, partially because you have a hold on a random corner to keep it so. 

With the absence of your pants hotboxing the truck, you slip back into your dress with a light shudder. You reach past Joel’s leg to retrieve your panties and pull them up your stems to keep his spillage to a minimum. 

“Good?” He asks, a smile slowly growing on your lips. He looked so fucked out. You both probably did. You attempt to fix Joel’s hair, and he takes his thumb to swipe away the saliva trail on your chin. 

“Good.” You agree. Quiet and sapped, but good. 

You force Joel to play a few games of tic-tac-toe on the foggy glass before the storms lighten up, and you can actually see more than a few feet in front of the road. 

You’re picking at the skin around your nails the entire drive home. So many questions compile in your worn-out brain. 

What if your parents noticed you were gone? What if they were awake, waiting for you by the kitchen window, and they see you slip out of Joel’s truck? Try explaining yourself after that one. 

As Joel pulls into his driveway, you observe the lake house is still dark and silent. Empty but also not. Joel’s warm palm is on your leg. It draws your attention away from the window, focusing just on him. 

“Joel?”

“Hm?” 

You shift your jaw before you lay your head back against the headrest, gentle pitter patters of the last rain cloud splashing on the window. 

“What do you do when you’re not working? Like on that Saturday when I talked to you at your truck.” 

He musters up a half-mouth smirk. “Didn’t do much talkin’ that I recall.” 

You roll your eyes and slam a closed fist against his shoulder. It barely rocks his arm, let alone his body. “M’serious.” 

He lets out a long sigh and looks out the windshield. “I do stuff around town or-  for the town.”

He’s so hard to push details out of. He’s like a jammed stapler. 

“Go on. So, like, volunteering?”

Joel rolls his eyes and shrugs. “S’not really like that.”

“That’s what it sounds like.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just sort of starts smiling. “Just like keeping myself busy. But now I have you on my plate.” He teased. Your chest felt warm, knowing he kept a place for you in his hectic life. 

“What sort of stuff are you working on right now?” 

He takes a long, deep breath through his nose. You can hear it whistle before he lets it all out of his mouth, followed by clearing his throat. 

“Y’know that old church past that big field on the east side of Danbury?” 

You mindlessly shake your head and shrug. 

“When I was a kid, I used t’go to that church-”

“For God?” You can’t help but blurt it out in shock. 

He narrows his eyes on you and smirks.

“M’not exactly the Godly type.” You look over his chiseled jawline and beautiful, robust features. You’d have to disagree. He looked like one of God’s favorites. 

“So.. why are you trying to fix an old church?”

Joel slowly smiles, eyes mindlessly on the dashboard of his truck before he answers. “I have a thing for the broken, used, and abandoned.” 

Your head cocks to the side, and you give him a look, pressing him for an honest answer. Or maybe it was an honest answer, and you’re just looking for a better answer. 

He shuffles around in his seat before he continues, hand still aimlessly circling on your thigh. “It wasn’t operable when I was a kid, just rundown, abandoned. There used to be a stained glass mural on the-uh... east-facing wall. So when the sun came up through it, the whole place just- lit up.” He pauses and shifts his focus to you. 

“Now, y’know, it’s fallin’ apart. Dumb kids throwin’ rocks at it and chipping away the glass, age makin’ it all dust-covered.” Joel shrugs and falls back into his closed pit of secrecy. 

“So… you’re fixing up the town.”

A pause. “More or less.” 

“You know how to make a stained glass mural?”

He shakes his head and purses his lips. “No. But I can figure it out.” 

You twist your lips and slowly climb over his lap once more. His eyes watch you curiously while his hands settle on your hips. You cup either side of his neck, fingertips lightly brushing up against messy curls. 

“Can I see this mural you’re working on?” 

He takes a long time to answer. So much dead silence fills the truck you start to feel a bit awkward about asking, like maybe it was too far. 

“Please.” You ask or tell rather. You kiss his lips lightly to try and sway his pending decision. “I won’t judge, I think it’s cool.”

“Cool?” He instantly chirps, cocking an eyebrow up at you. 

“I didn’t say you were cool-”

“You most certainly did.” 

You’re shaking your head, and his pointer finger is prodding into your side to get under your skin. “I said that it’s cool. The stained glass stuff, that is what is cool.” 

He’s already sneering at you. “Whatever you say, princess.” You can feel your cheeks singe with heat. Your hand anxiously scrabbles for the door handle, letting the rusty door creak open for your exit.

Sneakers scrape gravel after you climb out of Joel’s lap, his boots landing suit. 

He smoothes a hand down your dress, your eyes watch before you face him. 

“You gonna be alright?” Joel's face is laced with slight concern, his head cocking past you and looking to the house. 

You shrug and shake your head. “Yeah. We’ve had this fight before, and we’ll have it again.” 

He doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer. He’s teetering on his heels as a stray raindrop lands on your cheek. 

“You can..” He trails off as his thumb comes up and brushes away the droplet, hand lingering before he cups your cheek. “Y’know, can always stay with us if you need a break. M’sure Sarah would love the company.” And so would he. 

Your eyes soften, the gesture warm and safe. You couldn’t even imagine the trouble you’d stir up at Joel’s house. Sure, you could occupy yourself with Sarah when she returned from camping, but what would you and Joel do? Well, besides the obvious…

Your lips curl into a tight smile, not wanting him to reel in his invite out of pure bashfulness. 

“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.” Your eyes are on his until he sighs, his shoulders reset into that of a broad lumberjack once more. His eyes looked like they were scheming. It’s fast, like a flash, and before you know it, the look is gone. 

“Take care of yourself.” He leans down and plants a kiss on the crown of your head, thumb skimming up the line of your cheekbone. Suddenly, your heart is racing again. 

You cup his cheeks and pull him down for a real goodbye kiss, two sets of pouted lips against one another, unwilling to let go until you have to. 

---

“What are you doing after work?” You’re on a call with Joel, phone pressed between your ear and hunched shoulder. 

“What are you wearing right now?” He taunts, voice crackling in and out of connection since he was currently working at a house out of town. 

“Ha.” You deadpan, closing the sliding glass door behind you as you step back into the empty lake house, skin sweltering from being in the sun for the better half of the afternoon reading on the dock. “No, really, I could use your help.”

The phone volume shrills in your ear as you hear an electric saw roar to life, Joel cursing repeatedly as he walks away from all the noise.  “Jesus fuckin-.. so damn lou- Can you hear me better?” 

Once the saw dulled, you put the phone back to your ear.  “Yeah.”

“What do you need help with?” His voice sounds a little preoccupied like he’s trying to focus on you, but he’s got a million things running through his head. 

“My window.” You say with a frown, stepping into your bedroom and cursing at the sight of it. “Won’t open. Maybe you can crack it open with some of your handy dandy tools.”

You smile as he musters up a little laugh at your hardware knowledge or lack thereof. “I don’t know about today, baby.” 

“You are the property maintenance guy for our lakehouse now, right? You have a duty to help me.” You tease, stepping back outside with a fresh bottle of water and an apple. Your teeth pierce the skin, and the apple’s juices gush past your lips. 

“Jesus, fine. I’ll be over. I’m almost done.”

You purse your lips to hide your smirk. God, he can’t even see you, but you don’t want him to know he’s got you flustered. 

“Parents are running errands today... If that’s extra incentive for you to hurry up.” 

Joel pauses on the other end. He’s probably got that stupid smirk on his face. “In that case, I’ll leave now.”

“I knew you’d see things my way. Thank youuu.” You playfully coo. 

Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.

An hour later, Joel’s outside your window while you assist from the inside. His face is twisted in concentration, eyes narrowed on a misaligned hinge that he works free with a screwdriver, realigns, then screws tight into its proper place. 

He looks stupid hot so focused like this. Tanned skin, hair a little dusty from work. The veins in his forearm were bulging as he uses pressure to keep the hinge in place. You had to blink a few times to keep yourself from staring. He feels it. 

“Can I help you?” His voice was thick and echoing since he was speaking to you between a glass pane. 

You bite back a smirk and shake your head. 

He pulls off the hinge and nods, pats it a few times before looking at you and giving you a thumbs up. 

You decide to let him come inside before you open the window yourself, twisting at the string of your bikini bottom as you wait. He took in your appearance as soon as he parked in the driveway. 

“What?”

“...Nothin’. Like the outfit.”

“Joel, I was sunbathing. And reading. It wasn’t an intended distraction.” It was. 

“Mhm.”

Joel appears at the entrance of your bedroom. You silently curse yourself for not updating it more. It still looked like a sixteen-year-old fangirl lived in it. 

He appreciates the posters and magazines, checking his handiwork at the window. 

“Wanna give it a go? Open it?” 

You eagerly smile and step up to the window, playfully tugging on it and heaving. 

“I-.. It’s still stuck.” You say with a frown. “Joel, you said you fixed it.”

“What? Shouldn’t be-” He’s already got his hands on the frame and tugs, feeling it easily slip up and open. You’re giggling as his face deadpans. 

“You think you’re so funny.” He taunts, his body turning towards you as he chucks his tools haphazardly on your bed. You’re already attempting to take leaps and bounds away from Joel, but his arms are long, and so are his strides. 

His rough hands capture you by your waist, dusty and calloused fingers ghosting over your warm skin. 

Joel’s lips eagerly greet yours, both of you grinning into the kiss. It’s slow as you let it envelop you. Your heart races. He’s not supposed to be here, your parents could come home any time now.  

You bite down on your lower lip, feeling butterflies in your stomach as he backs you up against your wall, foreheads gently pressed together. His eyes flick behind you, and your head follows his gaze. 

“Boybands, huh?”

You roll your eyes and smirk, fingers moving to the button of his jeans. 

“Shut up, Joel. Leave the boybands out of it.” 

A car door slamming catches both of your attention. Heads whip on instinct, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Your parents are home, and Joel’s half-hard in your palm. 

“Oh, shit.” You curse. 

Joel’s already moving, grabbing his tools off your bed, and adjusting his jeans. “Lemme handle it.” Your heart pounds as you and Joel greet your parents at the door. They walk in with fresh shopping bags. A cheesy sign for the living room sticks out from one of them. 

“Joel?” They both ask in unison, looking between the man beside you and you in your bikini. Your mother’s face lightly flushes. 

“Hey, Joel! Good to see ya!” Your father sets the bags on the table and grabs a beer from the fridge. You shift on your feet and just let Joel lead. 

Your dad’s oblivious, your mother is more curious

. 

“What are you... What are you doing here?” She tries to ask casually with a little smile. 

Joel raises his screwdriver, strategically keeping the toolbag in front of his lower half. You try not to smirk. 

“Was fixin’ your daughter’s jammed window.”

Your mother's face softens before she smiles. “Y’know, that thing has been jammed for… years. Thank you.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile and nod. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Miller.” The light glare he sends you means you’ll pay for that one later. Joel clears his throat and nods, too. He turns to you now, and you share a look. 

“Just… let me know if it happens again. Might need to replace the hinge entirely. Small piece of it could be broken, might be why it keeps slippin’ out of place.”

“Yeah. For sure. Thanks.” 

You walk past your mother and open the door from him, but he still stands between your parents. What the hell is he doing?

“While I have you both, I was just tellin’ your daughter ‘bout a business trip I have comin’ up.” Huh? “ It’s not for Miller Contracting. It’s more for the town. I’m gettin’ materials for the old church-”

“Oh, the one with the broken stained glass mural on the east side of town?” Your mother chirps in. “We just drove past it. Just saying how someone needs to fix it up.” Joel’s lightly nodding to your mother’s words, her face soft as she listens to him with curiosity. 

“Well, I was tellin’ her about it ‘cause I could use some help getting materials from a supplier in Houston. I’d normally ask Sarah to tag along and help, but she said she’s got some graduation parties next weekend that she doesn’t wanna miss. Would it be alright if-”

“Oh, of course! Yes, please, if you need her help and she wants to go, she’s all yours.” 

Your eyes are wide, trying not to seem too shocked by Joel secretly sweeping you out from under your parents without them even noticing. 

Joel turns to you, eyebrow cocked.  “That okay with you? Next weekend. Friday to Sunday sort’f thing.” 

A whole weekend alone with Joel? Your insides are bursting, but you have to seem apathetic. 

“Mhm. Sure.” 

Joel sneaks you a private smile. “Really appreciate it. Ya’ll have a good rest of your evenin’.” And with that, he’s out the front door. 

You couldn’t believe what just happened. 

You try to act casual before you make it off to your room, but your mother’s voice pulls you to a halt. 

“Ah-ah, not so fast. Back it up.”

You quietly sigh before coming back to the main part of the kitchen. She narrows her eyes on you and lightly crosses her arms. Your fight with her from yesterday is still fresh, and it makes holding prolonged eye contact difficult. 

“Are you seeing a boy?”

Your eyes widen on instinct. Your dad pauses the sip of his beer and watches you carefully. You try to hold together a poker face as best as you can, but you’re worried your shock is already seeping through. 

“Wha- A boy? Why would you think that?” The laugh you force out sounds too fake. And you’re a terrible liar.  You feel so hot all of a sudden. You wished Joel was still here to talk you in and out of shit. It was a skill of his you’d surely have to learn. 

“Well, we heard the door close really late last night after you walked Joel out. We were just wondering if... You know, there’s a special someone that you’re seeing.” Of course, she hoped you would tie yourself down to someone in Texas. 

“Yeah, did a boy pick you up after dinner or somethin’?” Your father presses, eyes narrowing protectively over you. “You seein’ a boy or not, honey?”

You didn’t want to lie, but you certainly weren’t ready to tell them the truth about you and Joel. 

“Uhm.” Your brain scrabbles for an answer and ultimately chooses poorly. “Sorta. I don’t know. Kind of?” 

Your mother tightens her lips in a smile and nods a little. “We’ll let it go for now, but-”

“God- Mom, please.” You groan and put your face in your hands, closing your eyes and wishing this nightmare was over. 

“But,” she annoyingly emphasizes, “If it gets serious, we want to meet this young man.” She says with a firm nod before turning back to your father and putting away the items in their shopping bags. 

Meet him? They want to meet the boy you’re seeing? What will they do when they find out the boy is actually a full-grown man, a forty-something-year-old with a teenage daughter? And that man was not only their friend and neighbor but Joel fucking Miller. Fuck. Your luck was running out. 

---

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September 2010: "ThisIsn'tYourPaper.doc"

            I couldn’t figure out how to make friends, I couldn’t figureout how to do much of anything. Orientation happened, and within a day or two it seemed like everyone already had friends, already hada  circle to belong to and there was just me wandering confused through the mess. So I tried to do what happened in middle school: find the other outcasts and slide in with them, except now I was at a school made up of outcasts and how was I supposed to find outcasts in a damn sea of them?

            And in the dorms, the floor bonded and C[...] had the internationals since she’d been there for a week or so already, and E[...] somehow walked into the school with friends; no idea how she did that, still, and there was just me in the room alone not sure how to proceed. And in clases everyone seemed to have friends already too, and I did try to talk to people. I didn’t try as hard as I should have maybe, and I guess I shouldn’t have been gone to m[...]/p[...]/E[...]/a[...]’s apartment every weekend, but fuck, man. Dorms aren’t private. People put me on edge; for people you have to act. But friends? Friends you don’t have to act for. So the dorms weren’t private no matter what because I lived with people who weren’t friends and who could walk in at any time and find me doing any old thing and I had to always be on cue so the weekend at the apartment with friends was the only time I could relax, and I’ll be damned if that isn’t still true.

            But, anyway, I did try, just not as hard as I had to? Or something? I don’t really understand, but I was alone so far as I was concerned. I didn’t much care for classes and it bothered me that I wasn’t doing any creative writing yet. It seemed like just more of the same odl highschool bullshit I’d been doing for four years and I didn’t want more of it. The [name redacted] theatre wouldn’t pay me and when they did it was under the table, and the only thing I liked was the print shop, which was terrifying because you have to understand that I’d never had a job before and having to do things right and mostly not doing them right was pretty novel. But I liked it and I wanted to do it right, and it remains my favorite thing about this fucking place.

            And, well anyway, shit started getting shittier, really. Suddenly my friends  wanted to drink and party and you have to understand that I wasn’t okay with that shit yet. P[...] was still evolving due to lack of meds, becoming more and more unlikeable, and more and more angry and I became increasingly convinced he was going to hurt one of us. Probably me or M[...].

            Meanwhile, in October, A[...] tried to kill himself. M[...] and E[...] were home. He went to the kitchen, got  knife, slit his wrists, apparently had a change of heart, went into e[...]’s room and said “I need you to call an ambulance. I cut myself pretty bad.” And E[...] said “oh my god, m[...]! Call an ambulance!” and the two of them laid him on the kitchen floor and held towels to his wrists and the doorbell rang and E[...] got it and said “you’re not an ambulance!” as it was the police. They were in the area so they questioned a[...] and said ‘did you do this to yourself?” and he didn’t answer so they said”tell us so we don’t have to arrest your roommates” and he said he’d done it to himself. So the EMTs rrived and carted him off – one said “Fortunately, blood is the one thing we can replace” which I recently put into a piece for my writing class and A[...] – the teach – said she really liked that line and I couldn’t look her in the eye for a minute, but anyway – the police then questioned E[...] and m[...] about a[...] and everything else and p[...] showed up and they questioned him too, and then they left. So the three remaining roommates cleaned up a[...]’s blood and they ran out of paper towels so m[...] went out to get some.

            And she called me. I was sitting in my room by myself, just dicking around on the comp. I picked up, said, “Hey, M[...], what’s up?” and she said “Hey… uh… A[...]… tried to kill himself. I’m on my way to the store to pick up paper towels.” And I forgot to breathe and said “Oh my god. Are you okay? Is he okay?” and she said “yeah, he’s at the hospital. We’re cleaning up now. We’ll visit him later.” And I said “okay. Kee me informed.” And we both said “I love you, sissah” and she hung up and I cried for a bit and when c[...] came back I told her what had happened because I needed to tell someone and there wasn’t anybody else.

            So, they cleaned up and went to the hospital to see him and they waited for three hours before someone finally told them that he wasn’t taking visitors and they went home and b[...] went over and it was the first time they ever saw her cry and that was pretty jarring.

            And he wound up at a clinic which we did visit him at and then he went home to M[...] and stayed there. We saw him over the summer and it was very weird. That was the 4th of july, actually.

            Anyway, so that happened and it pretty much broke everything. M[...] and E[...] were pretty well cirpled. They went to psych--- oh shit, I forgot. It was during that previous summer that m[...] and p[...] had gotten me to promise to go to a shrink. M[...] roared at me, literally, and I fled upstairs and tried to climb out the skylights to escape, and it was maybe the only time p[...] was truly heroic and amazing and, in the end, I promised them I would see a shrink that summer, and I didn’t. anyway.

            So m[...] and E[...] went  to the [college] shrink and E[...] had some issues in the first place. She’s another depressed one. She’d failed freshman year not out of lack of skill but because she couldn’t get herself out of bed in the mornings due to a combination of motivation and anxiety problems. She and I actually are very similar except she has all of my problems to a much more extreme degree and also she doesn’t have the human decency to A care about other people or B try to combt and hide her problems. Won’t even try.

            But she wound up on meds for a bit there and that was the only time she was earable. She also wound up diagnosed with depression. Then she went off them and failed out of school completely and she hasn’t done a single thing since.

            Anyway, m[...] went for just a little bit and then dcided she was done with it. But the whole thing made her more serious. Something changed in her, and it made her less “fun” quote-unquote, and that eventually pushed E[...] away from her. Because once a[...] was gone, it was E[...] p[...] and m[...] and p[...] and m[...] hated each other because of me and E[...] would flip flop.  One week she was p[...]’s best friend and they ragged on m[...] and the next she’d be m[...]’s and they’d rag on p[...], and then, eventually, there were no more weeks where she was m[...]’s best friend.

            And meanwhile the parties and the alcohol. They wanted them, all of them. I wanted them  to stop wanting them.  And no one wasokay with my stance on that. Especially p[...] and E[...]. And I guess I was a touch preachy at the time, so okay, I understand, but they continued to have a problem with it long after I’d stopped preaching, into when I stopped caring.

            Mostly, it wund up just being that seeingmy friends not actinglike themselves freaked me the fuck out and was ultimately alienating. But I guess I’ve been getting over it, the more I get exposed to it. Or maybe something just broke or maybe I just chilled out. I don’t know. Anyway, so winter break.

            And I guess this is where you really come in, bearing chocolate and orange juice, haha. I didn’t pick up on the flirtation or the interest until then, in all honesty. You were just another person who came to the print shop, and that’s all there was to it. But that incident had an impact, and suddenly I knew your name.

            And I really did intend to hang out with you that vacation. I knew in my gut it probs wasn’t going to happen, because something felt… off. Not about you, but maybe a part of me was aware of the flirtation after all and saw me straying into potential cheating territory so it got wary. I don’t know.

            But I did intend to hang out with you. But the sads got the better of me. P[...] went to f[...], and I went into hate mode immediately that time. He tried to be all dancing around me freaking out about him being away and I said “No, do what you want. Don’t even talk to me, in fact. I don’t care.” And he said “Really?” and  I said “Really. I don’t care.” And he said “thanks” and thereby totally missed the point and I hated him more.

            Meanwhile, b[...] was having major boy issues, and she chose to open up to me. We were not close before that, we were just figures in each other’s lives. But she opened up to me then, for some reason, and we bonded and became really friends, not just acquaintances. And it was wonderful.

            And then I turned 19 and I couldn’t wrap my head around that. And and hundred other thoughts beside, and I didn’t hang out with you and I felt bad and I resolved to do so in the summer. I also decided that I’d make sure to talk to you when you came to the print shop, print your copies, whatever, but instead of chance, it would be on purpose this time.

            And M[...] and N[...] were uber gay… there were all these reasons to be jealous of them.

            And anyway, then it was March and the shit hit the fan. B[...] had this party – dress-up birthday party de la booze for herself at her apartment. For a few weeks before I’d been getting weird vibes from E[...] and p[...] that I couldn’t place. Figured out what it was that weekend. First day, had an epic fight with p[...] while everyone else was out. I don’t remember what it was about, but I do remember being absolutely convinced that this was the time he wa going to hit one of us and it was going to be me.

            But he didn’t and instead he took one of the remaining pills from the medicated days, but by now the dosage was WAY too high, and he only took one besides, so he wound up sick and fucked up.

            And, frankly, I liked him better that way. He wasn’t being an asshole. So we sat on the couch and he accused me of that and I said “yeah well” and he said he wished I wa spontaneous like E[...], and I looked at him and said “Well I’m not. Deal with it.”

            And the next day I badassed myself for the party, all dressed up nice with a new dress etc etc, and we went out to dinner before the party nd me and him are wandering around and I’m in this dress and combat boots and leather being a badas and he goes “This is great! It’s just like hanging out with E[...]!”

            And I didn’t say anything just then.  

            So we went to the party and unbeknownst to anyone, I was sick, actually. Dinner didn’t sit well. So me and N[...] and m[...] are sitting there abstaining; m[...] because N[...] was.

            And I’m just not in a good place, and I tell p[...] to go off and have fun because he won’t if he sticks with me, so gtfo. And he’s like “k” nd that’s the end of him for the night.

            So eventually me and m[...] and N[...] decide to head back. Now, P[...] and E[...] have been sitting on the porch with the door closed by themselves for a long damn time now. Prior to that they were obnoxious and contemptable and having a mutual love of cigars or whatever gross bullshit, but anyway, I go out there and that thing happens where you walk  into a room and everyone stops talking because whatever they were saying, it isn’t for you to hear. And I say “We’re going. You guys coming?” and E[...] sys no and I’m like “good fucking riddance”  in my head, and p[...] says no and I say “fine”, slam the door, and me and my girls leave.

            And on the way back I break the fuck down because how the hell do you sleep in a man’s bed when you know he just fucking ditched you for a chick you now are absolutely certain he likes better than you in every fucking respect.

            So m[...] and N[...] hobble me back to the house and I blubber about it and decide to sleep on the couch and they say “do you want us to sleep out here with you?” and I’m like “nono, I’ll be fine. You should be in your room together, go go” and initially they do but then they come back and are like “we’re pulling out the futon and all sleeping together in the living room. Seriously.”

            So we do.

            But I’m still sick, right? So I don’t fall asleep for a damn long time ‘cause I’m in the bathroom every four fucking seconds. And then I do fall asleep and am woken up aoround 4 am because p[...] and E[...] are being loud outside and I can hear them and they come in and turn on all the damn lihtd, making all the damn noise and p[...] walks into his room, flicks the light on and goe s “There’s no one here!” completely outraged.

            And they go into the kitchen and close the door and are talking, but I can’t hear it. So I get up to the bathroom fortyfive more fucking times, give up, go in there, and demand pepto bismol.

            And they’re like “you sick?”

            “Yeah”

            He’s like “I didn’t know that”           

            “Well I didn’t tell you”

            So I take the pink crap and try to go back to bed, then give up on sleeping and sit with them in the kitchen and E[...] goes to bed, and I spend til 6 am bitching p[...] out.

            And that was pretty much te beginning of the end because from then until the end of april it was all break-up fights that didn’t quite get the break-up out there, me third-wheeling on him and E[...] slowly hooking up and consequently me developing an unmitigated hatred for black Sabbath… and p[...] occasionally trying to get me to commit suicide.

            The most poignant of those being the occasion when we were arguing in my dorm about fuckall and he goes “You want to die  so badly? Let’s jump! Right now!” and starts pushingme toward the window and I’m like “what? No! windows are suicide proof anyway. They only open two inches.” Ad he’s ike “So? It’s just glass. Come on.”

            And that went back and forth for  bit until I won and then he just started at me with disgust and I said “let’s sign you out”

            And  I spent most of that month thinking about how wonderful freefall must be. Thinking I’d find the way to the roof and just jump off and wouldn’t it be beautiful to drop like that?

            And then when it became apparent to me that I wasn’t going to do that shit, the epicly large bottle of motrin I keep on hand because I get these mad headaches not to mention cramps started to seem super appealing and that one was kind of a close call only avoided because if I did then c[...] would wake up in the morning and find me dead and I couldn’t do that to her.

            And, anyway, then it wa the end of april. And we were all supposed to go to the iron pour at [college] so I got to the apartment with bag in hand and decided to be as bitterly jovial as possible which amounted to  calling p[...] cockhead and throwing candy at him and also setting a piece of pizza on fire in the microwave wit E[...].

            But, oh, p[...] was sick and wasn’t going to the pour. And I could feel the break-up in the air so I said “oh, I’ll stay back with you.” And everyone left. And he said “I’m breaking up with you.” And I said “I know” and he rehashed everythingthat had been said before and I was like “I know shut up” except he didn’t

And then we was all “oh, but we don’t have to tell anyone. It doesn’t have to come off facebook. We don’t have to tell our parents. You don’t have to take off your bracelet, inf act please don’t.”

             And I said “No, actually. All of those things hve to happen and I will have it off facebook by Sunday.” As it was a Friday. “And all those people have to know and if this is going to be over then it’s going to be fucking over.” And I took control, which I don’t think he’d planned on. So I made it real and ig athered my shit – all of the shit that I had there – and I said “I’m going home to [town].” And he said “Wait take this.” and I went home with it even though I didn’t mean to, and I cried o the way home but the fucking moment I left that house, m[...]. The fucking moment I was free, I felt like me again, and it was amazing. I cried over it, sure, but I was so glad to just be free and I hadn’t been able to do it myself.

            So I took the midnight train home, realized too late that my parents were in maine. Left a message on mum’s cell and they came back early to  be with me. M[...] came out to visit, and I told her how great it was, how happy I was, because it was true. I felt so fucking good.

            And when I left, we were supposed to become friends after the summer, after I’d had time to readjust. That got fucked in the ass by Sunday though.

            Because on Sunday I realized “oh wait p[...] and e[...] have no self control they are totes fucking right now” and I saw the signs of it and I was like “m[...] are they?” and she confirmed and so then the war was on, and everyone was on my side.

            And all of that became very funny, very fast. In the meanwhile, I re-figured out how to live to some extent. I did see you, as I’d decided, and \, fuck, you have no idea how glad I was o just talk to someone who wasn’t involved in my shit. ‘Cause everybody else was so I couldn’t talk to them without hearing about relationships or p[...] and E[...] specifically, and everyone was fucking breaking up that summer. S[...] and I[...] who’d been dating for three fucking years long distance – by which I mean US and Germany – broke up, and that was awful, and A[...] nad her dude broke up and just goddamn everybody.

            And I saw the shrink because I wanted to un-breaking the proise and because it seemed like a good way to get over shit faster. So I did that and wasn’t depressed, she said, so that was all lovely and fine.

            And it really wound up being a wonderful summer and I was just happy and content with things and I was me, and it was brilliant.

            And, well, anyway, you know pretty much all the rest since you were there and all.

            I guess the only thing to add is that it isn’t the summer anymore and the sads are creeping up on me I think because of [college] and boston and how incredibly much I do not want to be ehre, doing things I don’t care about. I think maybe I should transfer somewhere – I guess [college] since I already know I like the people there – and major in photo instead, but I’m a bit torn on the whole thing. I was kind of hoping, actually, that you could try to convince me to stick with [college], or maybe that I could jut bounce ideas off you. I don’t know. Something.

            But, yeah. Life story et ecetera.

            Anyway, I seem to have wound up typing a tiny fraction of this up instead of writing my paper and it’s 3 am and I still haven’t started the damn thing, and, fuck, man. I’d better stop here, because what are the odds I’m actually going to tell you this story? When would it come up?

[hard--mode]

Here's the notes for everything that would happen up until the end of the story.... as far as I had it figured out. You'll notice things are a lot less fleshed out the later things go. That's a big reason why this never got finished. the longer I tried to keep the thing running, the more I realized I never had any idea what I wanted to actually DO with this story which made it pretty hard for me to keep up. it's hard to write a story you're trying to take seriously if all you really have are jokes, it turns out.

I haven't reread any of this or edited it at all so who knows what kind of notes I might have written in between things haha

P: so as i was saying about undyne-

C: who’s undyne?

Everyone freezes. Chara just walked right up to papyrus without being noticed. Paps freaks out for a sec before he pulls sans into a huddle. Chara frowns and tries to peek around.

~Montage of papyrus’s excitement and harder puzzles, death montage

~Junior jumble: its sudoku now

Chara’s doing puzzles and sees flowey spying. They shout him over

C: HEY! still following me, loser? Don’t you have anything better to do? (but they smile)

F: somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t get killed too much out here

Flowey pops up closer to them

C: nah, I’m fine! I’ve got that reset power!

F: not for long considering how much you use it (mumbles. Rolls eyes??) (some depiction of chara dying a lot in the bg)

C: by the way…. In the ruins you were telling me to use it… care to tell me more about it since you seem to know so much?

F: I-... uh… well you already know the most of it. It just resets you back to your last SAVE point like nothing happened. Only beings with a powerful SOUL can use it, so monsters with their weak souls can’t.

Chara stops their puzzle work and sits to even the heights: Can flowers?

F: what the heck are you-... oh, no no no. I’m different.

C: so you have the power too.

F: No! I mean-, i used to before you came around. Yeah.

C: so you’ve done resets. (urging him on)

F: yep.

Chara waits a while: ...thats all you have to say?

F: yep

Travel scenes from here on out depict chara and flowey together

Gauntlet:

Flowey remarks that he doesn't remember a save point being before it. Chara goes along and gets paps’ bit. He does to activate it

C: wait this isn't for real right? U can't be srs!!!

P: yeah I am, this is hard mode!

Just show chara repeatedly spawning at the save and running back in with flowey watching them

Then cut to the end chara on the other side of it panting and exhausted, papyrus shocked but also beaming

P: wow you did it!! I'm so proud of u human! I didn’t think you would actually be able to get through it--- I mean- drat! Foiled again! I'll get u one of these times!

Papyrus runs off and Chara watches him with a look of wonder in their eyes.

F: don’t get too excited. his pride is cheap, he’s proud of everyone and every thing

Chara grumbles and marches forward: whatever. I don’t hear you saying you’re proud of me, so why do I have to listen to what you have to say

F: You know, you’re gonna have to fight him soon. Didn’t sans say so? What are you going to do then, die over and over until you give up or are you going to try to murder him just like you did with Toriel? :)

C: I am not! I’m gonna talk him out of it and go right past him like everyone else. Who knows! Maybe he won’t even fight me because he’s that cool. Even if he does, he’s probably a wimp anyways.

F: I wouldn’t be so sure! I bet you don’t stand a chance.

C: shut up! Quit following me if you’re gonna be this useless.

Paps fight

As papyrus carries their body to the shed to rest. Opens on their vision returning and they see their hands hanging toward the ground.

C: why didn’t you kill me? You’re stronger than everyone else, you could easily do it. Why dont you finish me off so everyone can leave or whatever it is you need me to do? Why did you hold back?

P: OH! YOU’RE AWAKE!

C: you held back…

P: OF COURSE i DID! I COULD NEVER KILL YOU, YOU’RE MY-- I HOPE I’M NOT BEING TOO FORWARD, BUT I LIKE TO THINK OF YOU AS MY FRIEND! AND EVEN THOUGH WE DO NEED YOUR SOUL, YOU DESERVE A FIGHTING CHANCE TO DO… WHATEVER IT IS YOU’RE TRYING TO DO.

Chara is too shocked and confused by the sentiment: I don’t… I don’t understand?

P: WHAT’S SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND ABOUT A FRIEND NOT KILLING YOU? HUMANS ARE SO STRANGE ...OH! I SEE NOW! THE REASON WHY YOU CARRY YOUR KNIFE LIKE THAT. IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE MORE AFRAID OF US MONSTERS THAN WE COULD EVER BE OF YOU!

He sets them down in the shed on the dog bed.

P: I’M SORRY, HUMAN! I WOULD HAVE GIVEN YOU MORE WARNING IF I HAD KNOWN HOW YOU FELT.

C: then… does that mean you’re going to let me go?

P: ABSOLUTELY NOT! I ALREADY CALLED UNDYNE TO MEET ME SO SHE CAN TAKE YOU! AND YOU NEED TO REST NOW AFTER ALL THAT!

C: !! I-I don’t know who Undyne is, but I can’t do that. I’m in a hurry to get out of here.

P: HMM… IF YOU’RE IN A HURRY THEN… NO, NO YOU CAN’T! WE NEED YOUR SOUL, I CAN’T JUST LET YOU LEAVE. UNDYNE’S REALLY COOL TOO, YOU’LL LIKE HER!

C: No, I have to go.

P: AGH, WELL… I SUPPOSE IF YOU CAN GET PAST ME BEFORE I CAN CATCH YOU, THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO. BUT I WON’T GO EASY ON YOU!

Cut to chara walking toward waterfall, papyrus calling after them to come back and hang out sometime. They keep walking and mutter to themself: Sorry, but I’ll get out of here before that ever happens.

WATERFALL

They see monster kid and side eye sans as they charge in, hurriedly.

Chara keeps flowey around and asks him to read the words for him. FLowey says it’s not important at all to anything they’re doing. It’s just monster history junk that means nothing if chara’s trying to leave. Chara’s like shut up cmon help me out maybe there's clues. FLowey reads some history stuff in waterfall treating it like shit they already know

F: why do you care about all this garbage anyway?

C: I dunno, I guess it just sounds familiar. Like a story I heard a long time ago.

Chara stops suddenly and checks their phone. Flowey asks what’s up

C: i thought it rang… you didn’t hear-

The phone starts ringing. Papyrus is cheerfully on the other end and they walk and talk.

He tells them about how he heard so many horrible things about humans and the surface but chara was much nicer than he ever expected. Chara asks where he heard that and he says a flower told him. Chara covers the receiver and looks around for flowey, suspicions of him raised.

Montage w monster kid and umbrella

Chara falls from undyne’s spear attack and wakes up in the trash with flowey over them.

F: hey, wake up. I can tell you’re not dead so hurry up and get moving.

Chara’s kind of bummed: she killed me four times back there. And it wasn’t even a fight. I couldn’t talk her down or… i couldn’t even talk to her, I could barely see her.

F: what, are you giving up or something? You know she can kill you as much as she wants and you aren’t gonna die.

C: I know that! I know this is just like a game where you can keep on going but… it hurts. And it’s exhausting.

F: what will you do then? Sit here in this trash and do nothing?

C: *sigh* no. I’m just feeling down in the dumps.

They smile and get up.

As they’re walking out, they hear a click and someone to tell them to “hold it”

Mad dummys behind them and she just has a gun. Pointed directly at chara. She starts on her thing about the cousin and then blook saves the day.

Chara meets up with blook again. They go to where the snail races used to be. It’s all busted and unused

C: what’s this supposed to be…?

B: oh…. this used to be a snail farm…. And this was a race course…. For snails…. But a long time ago people started to call the races “insensitive” so we had to close them…. Sorry you can’t have any fun racing snails…

C: why was it insensitive…?

B: ...i’d… rather not talk about it………..

Timeskip

C: hey flowey! What’s up with this place and snails?

F:...i wouldnt know.

montage

After waterfall where undyne says how many souls they have

C: flowey… if they have 6 human souls, that means 6 others fell down and died here, so…

F: what?

C: i just- i mean you were the first one i met-

F: no, no, no, ive never killed anyone. You’re the only human i’ve seen since i woke up

Chara relaxes: ok. So you dont know anything about them.

F: no. i heard some things from toriel, not much. It’s too late to try asking her, but she’s seen all of them. She was there at the beginning even.

C: the beginning?

F: you know…. When humans started falling down here and monsters started killing them.

Chara goes silent in thought: wait… how… long has this been going on? How old is toriel?

F: dunno

Chara after having a rough time: it’s hard, but no matter what happens i can just keep trying. I’ll make it out of this! You believe in me right, flowey?

F: no i think you should give up.

Page/chapter ends there. Next is chara going up to fight undyne.

Open on a riff on the “long ago” cutscene that chara cuts off by saying they already know this story

Undyne screams SHUT UP!!! I’m doing my HEROIC MONOLOGUE!! Whatever, I bet you haven’t heard the part about the King and Queen’s human child who died of illness and their other son who was killed by the humans when he tried to return their body to the surface?!

C: No I think I heard that one too? Why are you telling me all this anyways??

U: because this is an UNSKIPPABLE CUTSCENE!! NYAAAGGGHHHH!!!!!

Chara’s getting their ass beat and on low hp: I’ll die in a hit or two. But that’s fine because I’ll just start this over. I’ll start from… where was the last save point…

A vision of them with flowey. Their eyes go red and the flashback cuts in between shots of them running from undyne

F: I think you should give up

Ch: what… give up?? I thought you were on my side with all the telling me to keep going and-and the hanging out with me?!

F: as if you had any other choice but to keep going! We both know you don’t.

C: so you’ve just been following this whole time waiting for me to give up and die, huh?! Why, are you trying to steal my soul just like everybody else?!?

F: it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you’re going to die! And die and die and die! You can reset as much as you want, it won’t change that! So what if I am waiting for you to give up? You’re the last thing keeping monsters trapped down here. If you give up, you’ll give everyone what they want!

C: I thought you wanted to help me?! I thought you were my friend!

F: I would never be friends with a human! You’re all nothing but killing machines!

C: I haven’t killed anyone!

F: You killed Toriel! No number of resets can change what you did! You’re a horrible, disgusting human just like all the others and everyone would be happier if you were dead!

Flowey could say something about dying down here is better than their inevitable death on the surface. Their death would at least be worth something. Mean something

Chara escapes the fight, undyne collapses, and they walk away. they tell themselves they won’t give up. They don’t need help, especially not from that dumb flower. They’ll live to spite him and everyone else who tries to kill them

Chara goes in and meets alphys and overall is p meh abt it bc bad mood. Alphys helping them through the underground makes them talk to themselves about how they dont need flowey, they can do this themself. Friends are no good.

hotland is as normal. probably figure out some indication of things not right. make the game seem broken bc they arent supposed to get so far like this

Chara meets with sans at mtt resort for food reluctantly. Lets him say his piece. After he’s done threatening to kill them chara says to his face that they really don’t like him.

Need some hubbub about them having to kill asgore to get out. Theyll be like yeah I know that (somehow)... oh but I need a plan… how will i come up with a plan..

Flowey finally appears to chara again just before they get to new home and tries to talk them out of leaving. Disparaging the surface and telling them they could live happily down here. Chara says no, it’s too hard because people are constantly hunting them down and being the last soul, no ones going to stop that. He says that he’s sorry for the way he was before

Chara smiles back, and then looks away: What you said before… about.. My inevitable death on the surface…

F: that was… don’t worry about that.

C: are you afraid of it?

F: well- yeah, it’s a dangerous place. Everyone knows that.

C: I’ve died a lot more times down here than I ever did up there.

A beat

C: you go back and forth a lot between talking about how I should stay down here because it’s better… but also if I die down here… everyone gets to go free… to the horrible, awful surface.

F: uh,, did I say all that…? I may have contradicted myself a little… I guess… in the end I just wanted an excuse for you to stay around. I really don’t want you to die.

C: so you did see me as a friend after all?

F: well…you reminded me of someone who was my friend. I wish we could have been friends.

C: Do you think… If I reset back to the beginning and did this again, if I said the right things… we could have been?

F: No… You could be as nice to me or as mean to me as you want. No matter how many times you reset, some things never change.

C: ...Did you ever… have to reset because you killed someone?

F: ……….once… and then I never reset ever again. The power to reset… makes you do bad things. It’s wrong. I had to stop because i knew… I’d make someone really upset if I kept messing around.

C: well, in that case… I guess I’ll just have to get the rest of the way out of here without any resets!

Flowey smiles: I dunno, keep one or two under your belt. You’re a pretty big klutz.

C: Thanks for helping me out of here, flowey. Even if you just did it because you were begged.

Can you imagine a more paranoid flowey who is less interested in attacking you and regaining the reset ability, but is pleased af that you have the reset ability because that means you can't die, and instead he spends the entire game trying to convince you that humanity is hopeless. That there is nothing on the surface world returning to. That it's safer, down here.

he's part of the reason why things are so much harder

he's the one that starts the rumors about the dangers of teh surface world

there's a definite sense of paranoia all across the board

When they approach new home, flowey appears one last time and grabs chara by the hand, telling them not to go. They can live in the underground, they’ve made a lot of friends here. Chara says that they have to go, they’ll find a way to get out without killing asgore. Flowey says that he tried to stop them, this is as far as he’ll go. This is goodbye. They bid their farewells and chara goes along, but flowey secretly follows them, much less detectable than ever before. It’s revealed when he’s hiding with the flowers.

Chara walks up to new home, regarding it as a vaguely familiar sight. They walk down the many halls knowing exactly where to go. The monsters speak as they go through the motions. They find a cookbook in the kitchen with a page for snail pie missing. Chara mumbles about already knowing the story and that they should all shut up. They walk more quickly to stay ahead of them. Then one mentions the snail pie and chara stops dead in their tracks. No that’s not how it happened- they stop, and take back off.

They are stopped by sans in the judgement hall, glaring at him.

S: well I had a whole speech to give ya, but you look like you’re in a hurry. You’re a weird kid, but you’re fine. The king’s up ahead.

OTHER alternative: chara realizes something’s wrong and runs back to get everyone, probably threatening to kill asgore to convince them to come quickly. Sans is avoided due to the mob approaching behind them “I heard the word that you’re on your way to kill the king.” c: are you here to stop me? “Nah. But you’d better have a good plan to back yourself up, kid. King’s up ahead”

They run up to asgore, no nonsense. Some time is taken to progress things. As they leave the throne room, flowey watches from the flowers, chara looks back to confirm he’s there.

Asgore draws up the souls, the fight is about to engage, before he can smash “MERCY” chara yells: ASRIEL. Get the souls.

Everything stops. Flowey is behind them, stunned and confused. Chara turns and asks him what he’s waiting for. Hurry up and take the souls before everyone else gets here. Nearly every last monster is coming, if he can become godlike and absorb them, it will be enough strength to break the barrier.

Flowey is confused, how do they know that? Chara tells him he did it before. Doesn’t he remember? Doesn’t he remember them?

Either flowey does it and something happens, or flowey waits too long and chaos erupts which gets them killed, and then chara and flowey have to meet up and workshop.

Final fight:

He probably says some shit about frisk and how he cant lose frisk again, chara must insist that theyre not frisk. When they say their name is chara, he hesitates for only a moment. Finally, when chara’s pinned and about to seriously die…

C: you remember it now too, don’t you? It took me a while, I couldn’t remember a thing until i started hearing your name around. You’re an all powerful god now, you should be able to remember it all better than me

A: shut up.

C: would frisk want us to fight like this?! Would frisk want you to kill your own sibling?!

A: c-.... You’re… you’re really chara?

He lets them go

They reach the conclusion that frisk messed with everything and put them here with no memories so they could do something frisk could never do. Frisk thinks they deserve to live, no matter how much the two may disagree. They have to play along. Asriel is a god and can use his powers to break the barrier and bring EVERYONE back to life so they can live together happily.

go to final fight and everyones already there, things are very confused, flowey takes the souls and things glitch out (screen phases between bosses) and chara realizes this isnt how things are supposed to be, tells asriel theyre sorry for their baggage but he doesnt understand bc he isnt theirs, and then they gotta find frisk somehow

OR... they realize things in the speech and don't go to fight asgore bc theyre finding flowey... they feign fighting asgore and then suddenly tell flowey to take the souls("Asriel! get the souls!" and thats the first time they call him by name)...? i like that a bit better. they start going on about crazy shit that makes roided out flowey kind of lose it at them which leads to them apologizing to their own asriel but then realizing they need to find frisk

but HOW do they find frisk

The end shows chara asriel and frisk hugging eachother, all alive and well. Then the two are “processing…” and remember that oh, theyve done some dark messed up stuff.

[shhhhyoursister]

enemies to lovers/band!au

okay yeah heres the final one, the big boy, the one im probably proudest of, i really really hope you guys like it!!

Matteo was lucky that the conductor liked him, because showing up 10 minutes late to the first rehearsal of the year was bad, even for him. Matteo wasn’t known to be the most responsible member of the band, and usually the only thing he could be counted on to do right every rehearsal was show up, and show up on time. He adjusted his grip on his baritone case as he sped down the hall of the music department, cursing as he checked the time on his phone again, and when he got to the door of the theater they rehearsed in, he cracked it open as quietly as he could.

“Ah, Matteo!” the conductor yelled from the stage, and Matteo flinched before stepping fully into the room, “You decided to show up! I was worried you quit after playing that really loud wrong note at the concert last semester.”

“Which one?” Matteo joked back, knowing that if it was any other professor he would have just apologized and rushed to put his instrument together. He was on a first name basis with Rick, who was probably the most laid back member of the music faculty. Some of the players on stage laughed at the exchange, and Matteo smiled as he popped his case open.

“Just hurry up, we do actually need a full band to rehearse,” Rick said, turning back to his stand with a chuckle, “and poor David looks like he’s going to explode if we don’t start soon.”

Matteo rolled his eyes. As if that would make him set his baritone up faster. He ignored the second wave of laughter that followed the conductor’s comment and grabbed the folder with his music, and made his way onto the stage. He took his seat next to the other baritones, in the third chair, and tried to ignore the glare he could feel coming from the clarinet section.

Matteo was a little upset that he had missed his favorite part of each rehearsal; before Rick got there, when people were still whispering to their stand partners, some quietly tuning their instruments or practicing difficult measures, some tapping their feet and counting out the beats. It felt more alive than when everyone was coming together to play one piece, and while Matteo loved the sound of a full band playing beautiful music, he really needed that calm before the storm. It reminded him that the music that he listened to came from people like him, who had to practice and tune and count and focus to produce the notes and phrases that seemed to flow so naturally.

He risked a glance over at David when Rick asked him to play a note so he could tune the band to it, and, like always, felt a little bit of a shiver run through him when he watched David take a deep breath before playing out a long, perfectly in-tune note. He knew it wasn’t only because of the sound of the clarinet, which Matteo secretly thought was the nicest sounding of all the wind instruments. Although David couldn’t stand him, and Matteo didn’t have too many kind feelings towards him either, it was hard to deny that first of all, David was an amazing musician, and second of all, much less importantly, he was really hot.

Matteo didn’t feel bad for thinking it. Every person in the band who was into men was into David. Matteo would hear girls whispering about him while they were setting up their flutes and oboes, and there was the one guy in the saxophone section who had been trying to get his number for a year. It was old news, but Matteo couldn’t help himself from staring at David when he had long measures of rests, and had to admit that David was the cause of his distraction during some rehearsals.

Rick finished tuning the band, and had them flip to the piece that Matteo was the least confident in. He looked up and took a breath with the whole band when the conductor brought his arms up, and dropped his eyes back to the notes a split second before the downbeat.

Inevitably, Matteo got to a part in the song where he had four measures of rest, and he leaned back in his chair a bit and stretched his neck out. He was counting on his fingers and tapping his foot to the tempo and managed to come back in at the right time, only for Rick to cut them off as he flipped aggressively through the papers on his stand.

“Where is the second page? Why do I only have half of the score here?” He asked angrily, and then huffed and said, “Okay, everyone take out the next piece. David, take over for me.”

Matteo rolled his eyes as Rick walked off the stage, and David took his place in front of the band. David always got the most cocky, smug look whenever he was asked to conduct, and some people rolled their eyes because they knew David was harsher, faster, and much less forgiving than Rick was.

“Okay guys, remember we tried to play this last semester, but some people couldn’t keep up,” his eyes flicked to Matteo, who just shrugged, and then smiled as the frown on David’s face deepened and he continued, “as long as everyone watches me, we’ll be able to get through it. Let’s start at the beginning.”

That won’t be too hard, Matteo thought to himself, and smiled before bringing his lips to the mouthpiece.

They got through the first half of the song with no issues, David going slower than usual to let people warm up to playing it again. Matteo knew that the only reason he hadn’t messed up yet was because his eyes were glued to his sheet music, but he saw that the tempo was changing in a few measures so he would have to look up. Once he did, he caught sight of the serious expression on David’s face, his eyes scanning over the band and darting down to the score in front of him, his arms waving and emphasizing different beats in a fluid and practiced way, keeping the tempo while cuing the other instruments to come in.

“Stop, stop! You were supposed to come in there, baritones, what happened? Are we playing too slow for you?”

Matteo (and everyone else) knew that when David was yelling at the baritones, he was really yelling at Matteo. His animosity was known amongst the other students in the band, so they weren’t surprised to hear a critique aimed at that section of the low brass. That was confirmed when Matteo looked up to see David glaring directly at him, his hand that wasn’t holding the baton clenched tightly around the stand.

They got through the rest of the song with no incidents, Matteo purposefully playing quieter to avoid making any loud mistakes. Rick came back just as David was berating them for speeding up at the end, and he clapped him on the shoulder before waving the missing pages of his score in the air.

“Thank you, David, for re-traumatizing your bandmates. Let’s go back to the first piece, and I promise I won’t yell as much as he did.”

The band laughed and David chuckled (at least he’s self aware, Matteo thought to himself) as he took his seat, with one final glance in Matteo’s direction. They could both see each other from where they were sitting, David being at the end of the second row and Matteo diagonal across from him in the back. He watched as David settled back into his seat and picked his clarinet up, his tongue flicking out to wet the reed, and when David’s eyes shifted back over to him he blushed and looked down at the floor. He scowled, angry that he got caught staring.

***

He struggled through the first week, playing confidently when he could and quieting down whenever he got lost until he could figure out where they were again. Sometimes he found himself so confused he would whisper out of the corner of his mouth, “Where are we?” to his stand partner, and she would roll her eyes before pointing out the correct measure.

The next week of rehearsals, Matteo started out on a much better foot. He was running early as opposed to late, and he hummed to himself as he strolled calmly down the hall leading to the theater. There was one measure of their newest song that he just couldn’t get right, and he flipped open his folder as he walked, knowing that the page with that measure would be at the front. He stopped paying attention to where he was walking, tapping out the beat of the notes on his hip, and just as he turned the corner into the room he crashed into someone leaving, and heard an annoyed, “Are you serious?”

He tensed when he recognized David’s voice, and looked up to see the exact glare he was expecting aimed directly at him. He almost missed the stack of papers that David had dropped, and only noticed when one sheet landed perfectly on top of his open folder.

“Sorry,” Matteo muttered, not knowing what else to say, “let me help.”

“No, I’ll do it,” David snapped back, the glare on his face darkening a little as he snatched the paper on top of Matteo’s folder and said, “I had them organized by section, and by part. You’d just fuck it up. Go set up.”

Matteo took a deep breath through his nose, tired of being torn down every single time David spoke to him, and he took another breath before glaring back and saying, “I wouldn’t fuck it up. I know how sheet music works.”

“Yeah, but if Rick wanted you doing any of this I’m sure he would have asked,” David scoffed, kneeling down so he could gather the papers together, “but he didn’t.”

Matteo bit his lip as felt something angry building in his stomach, and he knew it wasn’t professional or smart of him to do but he couldn’t help but bite back, “Look, we all know that you’re just using us to set yourself up for the future, and that’s fine, but it doesn’t give you the excuse to be a fucking asshole all the time.”

He stormed off before he could see David’s reaction, and set his baritone up with trembling fingers. He was already in his seat and tuned up by the time David stalked into the theater with all of the papers, and Matteo watched with a smug grin as David quietly apologized to Rick for being late before handing off the sheet music and taking his seat. He grabbed his clarinet, his fingers pressing down on the keys harder than was probably good for them, and shot Matteo one final, piercing glare before turning to his music. Matteo smiled to himself as the conductor got everyone’s attention.

***

Things got a little more tense after that.

Getting even more on the bad side of the most talented, and most respected (and most feared) musician in the band was not Matteo’s best idea, but he had no idea how to fix it, and didn’t even know if he cared enough to.

Matteo didn’t know exactly what he was going to do once he graduated, but assumed that he’d figure something out. Pit bands were always looking for fresh talent, so he assumed that he would join one of those and get some menial job on the side while he waited to see where his life would lead. He knew that David, on the other hand, had a plan, and it seemed like their interaction in the hallway led David to believe that Matteo was the one thing standing in his way.

Another week of rehearsals went by, Matteo trying his best not to mess up, and failing almost every session. He knew that his conductor was starting to get a little frustrated, and he didn’t know how to explain that his new bout of issues weren’t coming from a lack of understanding the music; it was just difficult to play when you could feel someone openly glaring at you anytime the first clarinets had rests in the music. He and David hadn’t spoken or interacted at all since the incident in the hallway. They had never really spoken before that, so it wasn’t too unusual, but that amount of glaring was new.

And after a day or two, Matteo started glaring back. He would only do it when David wasn’t looking at him, either focused on the music or counting or watching the conductor, and it felt like the smallest form of retaliation that Matteo was willing to participate in. He knew that he couldn’t talk back to Rick, and he was doing all he could to avoid having to actually speak with David, so the glaring was a good alternative.

It was also a bit of a problem, the glaring. Sometimes Matteo would get lost in his own anger, resulting in him getting lost in the music, and Rick would stop the band and tell the baritones to pay attention to the music, not their bandmates, and Matteo would whip his head back to his music, his cheeks red at being caught.

It came to a head during one rehearsal, the first rehearsal since the glaring had started where Rick had to step out of the room. He handed David his baton and walked off with a wave of his hand, and Matteo noticed David smirking in his direction as he took up the position in front of the band.

“Okay, we’re going to start at measure 46,” David said, his eyes yet again scanning over every member of the band, squinting a little as they passed over Matteo, “the low brass has really been struggling with this section, and I’m going to take it faster so we can see exactly who is having trouble.”

Matteo’s eyes widened as he looked over the part David was referencing, realizing quickly that it was the hardest set of measures for the baritone section out of all of their pieces. He looked up again, trying to look determined despite the nerves starting to make his fingers twitch on the valves of his baritone, and caught David smirking at him again. David raised the baton, and Matteo lifted his baritone to his mouth and tried to focus his eyes on the music.

He managed to play through the first few measures correctly, but his nerves got the best of him and he messed up in one of the worst ways you can mess up as a musician; playing during a full-band rest. He felt his entire body tense up as half the band turned to stare at him, and he knew that it was the perfect excuse for David to go off on him.

“I heard that in the baritones, don’t let me hear it again.” David said sternly, the tip of the baton pointing right at Matteo. He looked mad, but there was something slightly encouraging there too, like he was trying to give Matteo another chance.

Matteo was surprised but grateful that his mistake didn’t send David into a fit and really tried to take that second chance and run with it. They started playing again, and Matteo made it through that measure, and then managed to mess up on the next one. He held one note too long and then played a sharp instead of a flat, and David didn’t stop the band but his head flicked to Matteo and he gave him a look that made his fingers freeze, and it took him a measure to come back in because for some reason that look scared him more than the many critiques and looks he had gotten in the past. David looked furious, as if Matteo was messing up intentionally.

They played through the rest of the section, Matteo getting less tense the more measures he played right, and just as they reached the last measure Rick came back into the theater, the door creaking a little behind him, but enough that it distracted Matteo, who not only played the last note wrong, but he felt his face heat up at the monstrous honk that came out the bell of his instrument.

“Matteo!” David snapped, and his other hand grabbed the top half of the baton and quickly bent it, snapping that as well.

Most of the band  gasped, Matteo included. David seemed shocked himself, staring down at the fractured wood in his hands. Rick walked up to him and without saying a word, grabbed the two pieces, and turned to face the band with a stoic expression.

“I think I’ll call it for today, everyone. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, before dropping a hand onto David’s shoulder and looking up at Matteo and saying, “You two, in my office.”

Matteo gulped, and tried to ignore the look on David’s face as he got out of his seat and made his way over to his case. He put his baritone away slowly, watching as the rest of the band filtered out through the main doors, some shooting him sympathetic looks as they walked out. He might not have been the best member of the band, but he was nice enough that most people liked him enough, and probably felt bad knowing that he was about to get screamed at. He looked away when he saw David walk into Rick’s office hot on his heels, already saying something that would probably get Matteo in more trouble.

He made his way over to the office once he had all of his stuff together, and took a deep breath before knocking on the door and walking in. He entered and saw Rick sitting at his desk, looking annoyed, and David standing in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked like he had just finished ranting, his face red and his chest heaving, and he turned to fix Matteo with a glare as he walked into the room.

“I don’t know why two of my best musicians hate each other as much as you guys do,” he started, and Matteo’s eyes widened a bit at the bluntness of his statement along with the compliment, “but you need to work it out before next week.”

“Sir, I don’t know if I’d say he’s one of the best-” David started, his voice hiding the hint of a pretentious laugh, and before thinking about it Matteo cut him off.

“You don’t know shit about how I play.”

David turned to him with tight lips and said, “Well, I’ve conducted you before, so I think I have a pretty good idea.”

“Yeah, how could I forget being verbally abused.”

“It wasn’t abuse, if you aren’t going to play right I’m going to say something and I’m sorry if I don't sugarcoat it. I focus on being right, not on being nice.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Matteo muttered under his breath, and just as David turned to him to snap back at him, Rick clapped his hands together, loudly.

“Okay, I know what we’re going to do to fix this.”

***

That was how Matteo found himself the next day, an hour before band was supposed to start, during his only free period of the day, making his way to the music building so he could get to the practice rooms. He was walking slow, making sure to be on time but exactly on time, because he didn’t want to spend a second longer with David than he had to.

To their chagrin, Rick decided that the best way for the two to get along was for David to help Matteo figure out the parts of the music that he was struggling with. He had set up mandatory twice a week private sessions for both of them. Matteo had a feeling they wouldn’t make it past the first week without screaming at each other.

Matteo got to the door of the room he was meant to meet David in, and he could hear shuffling so he knew David was there already. He rolled his eyes and braced himself before pushing into the room.

“Put your instrument together,” David said, not even looking at Matteo as he set two chairs up in front of a stand, “ and get your music out. Let’s not be here any longer than we have to be.”

David finally turned around when Matteo didn’t move, and raised an eyebrow at him. Matteo had been expecting the hostility, and knew what he wanted to say in response.

“If we’re being forced to do this,” he said calmly, dropping his baritone case on the chair and popping it open, “I’m not going to let you be a dick to me. You need to be here just as much as I do. If you’re mean I’ll walk out, and then we’re both fucked. Don’t test me.”

He turned and started setting his baritone up, not waiting for David to react or respond to what he said. He only looked up at him once he sat in the chair and had his music on the stand, and he was surprised to see David look down at the ground, his face almost completely neutral except for the corners of his lips, which were twitching up a little.

“Fine,” David said, sitting down in the other chair, moving his leg quickly when his knee bumped into Matteo’s, “Play it right and I won’t be a dick.”

Matteo rolled his eyes but figured that was the best he was going to get, so he took a deep breath before bringing his mouthpiece up to his lips.

He played through the first few measures that David pointed at, trying to be as quick as he could while still following the tempo David was tapping out and playing the notes correctly. He knew that he had nowhere to hide if he messed up. Not that he really did during their bigger rehearsals, but he also felt much more confident playing by himself. He knew he wasn’t going to mess up the timing of anything, but he was worried about a set of measures near the end that had a beat that was so complicated he couldn’t figure it out.

He messed up right away when they got to it and he stopped, expecting David to make some harsh comment that would have him snapping back, but was surprised when his only reaction was, “Go back a few measures, try it again.”

He tried again and messed it up the same way, and then tried again, before putting his baritone down with a huff. He was frustrated at himself for messing it up, especially for messing it up in front of David, knowing that there was no way he wouldn’t say something sarcastic or rude after Matteo messed up for the third time.

“Why are you counting it like that?” David asked, his voice surprisingly devoid of any mocking or cruel tone. He sounded genuinely curious, but Matteo was still wary.

“I don’t know, because that’s how it looks?” He answered quickly, rolling his eyes, shifting uncomfortably under his horn.

“If I’m promising not to be a dick, you need to promise to take this seriously,” David said, turning to look directly at Matteo for the first time since the lesson had started, “I know you don’t really care about all this, but I do, so if that means teaching you how to fucking count I’ll do it. Now, play it again, but right.”

“Who says I don’t care?” Matteo asked, keeping his baritone firmly in his lap, “And I know how to count. That measure just makes no fucking sense.”

“Yes it does, you just aren’t counting it right,” David said, his voice tight, and he took a breath before saying more calmly, “here, give me your horn, I’ll show you.”

Matteo hesitated before handing it over, and he sighed a little in relief when David took Matteo’s mouthpiece off and took another one out of his bag.

Matteo was always impressed at the sound that David was able to pull out of any instrument he touched. There were multiple times where their conductor would ask David to grab an extra trumpet or sax or flute or set of mallets for a marimba, and would shove him wherever the band needed extra help. The only reason he never sent him to sit with Matteo’s section was because they didn’t have any extra horns, and Matteo was beyond grateful for that.

David pointed at the measure, and said, “See, you’re playing this,” he played out the beat that Matteo had been playing and then stopped and said, “but that amount of notes doesn’t fit in the measure, you’re adding an extra one in the middle. It’s supposed to sound like this,” he raised the baritone to his lips again and played out the measure, tapping his foot loudly as he continued playing so Matteo could hear how that measure fit into the rest of the phrase.

He gave Matteo the horn back after switching the mouthpieces again, and Matteo hesitated before starting to play again, and when he got to the measure and played it the way David showed him, it flowed perfectly into the next one and he even saw David smile a little.

“Yeah, you got it that time,” David said, and Matteo smiled back at him before turning back to his music as David said, “now let’s fix this other part.”

***

After a couple of weeks of the private sessions, Matteo was starting to sense a pattern. They would be completely civil during their one-on-one sessions, David only critiquing when necessary and only with comments that were actually helpful, and then they would get to band and it would start all over again. Matteo would get lost, Rick would snap at his section, he would look over and see David glaring at him or shaking his head in disappointment.

He didn’t know why it was getting to him in a way that it hadn’t before. He always knew that David was a little tougher on him than others, but he had really been hoping that the private sessions would stop the glares and the looks and the scoffs whenever he messed up. If anything, the private sessions only made the actual rehearsals worse.

The second boiling point was reached their third week of the private sessions. Matteo had sat through his perfectly cordial hour with David before band, and was even looking forward to playing that day. He felt like he had finally nailed the set of measures that he and David had been working on so he was excited for Rick to hear him play it right. He was so giddy about it that he even smiled when he caught David looking at him from across the band. David had raised a confused eyebrow at him before shifting his gaze back to the front of the band, and Matteo blushed and looked down at the ground, feeling a little silly.

Again, after a little while the conductor had to step away, and again David took his place at the stand, and picked up the baton. He looked right at Matteo as he told the band that they were going to start a few measures before the one Matteo had been messing up, and he sat up a little straighter and returned the look, nodding when David finished speaking. David nodded the slightest bit back at him before raising his arms, and Matteo breathed with the rest of the band before bringing his mouthpiece up to his lips.

And it was like nothing had changed. Matteo found himself getting lost watching David’s waving his arms in all directions, wild but completely in control of himself and the band. He missed one note and David’s eyes flicked to him, and held there as Matteo panicked and stumbled his way through the measure that he had spent two weeks of private lessons fixing.

He saw David’s jaw clench and he cut the band off with a sharp wave of his hand, before turning his full body in Matteo’s direction to say, “So the last few weeks have been a total waste of my time?”

Matteo didn’t think before standing up and walking off the stage, and out of the theater. He ignored the whispers and looks that followed him out, didn’t think about when he was going to be able to go back and get his case and bag and music, and he walked to the hallway of practice rooms and entered one, slamming the door behind him.

***

He emailed Rick and got permission to skip rehearsal the next day, the conductor ending the email with We really need to figure this out before your issues with David end up hurting the rest of the band. Matteo had read the response and collapsed back into bed, glaring over at his baritone (in the case, his roommate and friends brought his stuff out for him after he left).

It was also the first night of the first concert in the music department. Matteo wasn’t performing but he was required to go, and as he got himself ready in his appropriate concert attire, he worried over the fact that David was going to be there, to perform and to watch. Matteo couldn’t think of something he’d like to do less than watch the dude who embarrassed him in front of their entire band perform and get endless praise for it.

Matteo sat quietly next to his friends throughout the concert, and when David walked onto the stage, he felt himself tense up. His best friend Jonas, a trumpet player who was more than aware of the situation in and out of rehearsal, put a hand on his leg and squeezed, trying to offer a bit of comfort. Matteo smiled tightly at him as David lifted his clarinet to his lips and took a deep breath.

No matter how much Matteo hated him, he couldn’t ignore the fact that David was the best clarinet player he had ever heard. It was like his body and his clarinet were formed together, the way he breathed sound through it and moved around it, how quickly he could run his fingers over the keys and play the most complicated string of notes without a single flaw. Matteo found himself entranced by the song David played, and he opened his eyes when the last note faded out into the otherwise silent theater, and he watched as David kept his clarinet up for a beat after the song finished before his eyes opened, and they looked directly into Matteo’s as the audience clapped around him.

He looked away as quickly as he could, ignoring the face Jonas made at his sudden movement, and tried to focus his attention completely on the girl who stepped up next with her violin. He only let his eyes flick to David once more before the concert was over, and while his view was obscured because David was sitting a few rows ahead of him, Matteo could see his fingers twitching in his lap, probably resisting the urge to make the player follow his lead. The concert was over after that last girl, and Matteo turned to his friends quickly to stop himself from staring in David’s direction again.

Coincidentally, (or not at all) the night of the first concert in the music department was also the night of the first party being held by some people in the percussion section, a couple of guys who had a big house that was perfect for hosting a bunch of drunk but mild-mannered music majors.

Matteo had barely even wanted to go, knowing that his reputation amongst the rest of the band was not a great one. He wasn’t hated, but most only knew of him because of the amount of times per rehearsal the conductor would have to stop and critique the baritones (him) or tell the baritones (him) what measure they were on, and now because of all the new drama with David. He also didn’t want to face his bandmates after walking out during the last rehearsal, but the pushing and prodding of his friends made him reluctantly agree.

“Dude, we’re gonna get you so fucked up you can’t even think about what an asshole Schreibner is,” Carlos said as they made their way to the house.

Matteo snorted as they turned onto the correct block, and they quickly spotted the house that was holding the party. There were lights and music loud enough that they could hear it down the street, and Carlos and Abdi started whooping before running over to it.

“You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to,” Jonas said when Matteo hesitated near the front door.

Matteo waited another second before shoving into the house, and throwing back over his shoulder, “Who cares about that asshole, I want to drink!”

And drink he did. Matteo was on his third beer after only twenty minutes, and he was considering it a win that he hadn’t seen David yet. He could feel himself getting more drunk, and didn’t know what he would even say to David if he saw him. He was glad that the little corner of the room he and his friends had grabbed seemed to be pretty hidden away.

Matteo was handed a joint after a little while and he grabbed it quickly, sticking the end in his mouth and taking a deep hit. He closed his eyes as he blew the smoke out his nose, and took another hit as he opened his eyes slowly, and saw David walk into the room. He didn’t seem to notice Matteo though, seemingly focused on getting to someone that was standing in the opposite corner.

“I didn’t know that David and Leonie are friends,” Carlos said quietly, staring over at the two, “she’s in the orchestra with Kiki. I heard she’s just like David but worse.”

“Matteo would love her, then,” Jonas said, ruffling his hair, and he flipped him off before taking another hit and passing the joint along.

“Why are talented and attractive people such assholes,” Matteo said, and when the three other boys turned to him, their eyes wide, he asked, “what?”

“Did you just say something nice about David?” Abdi asked with a grin, and Matteo rolled his eyes as the boys all oooohed.

“Me saying he’s attractive and talented isn’t nice, especially when that was the lead up to me calling him an asshole,” Matteo said, grabbing the joint when it was handed back to him, “I don’t have a single nice thing to say about David. He can play good, but he’s a piece of shit and nobody is going to hire someone with his kind of attitude. He thinks just ‘cause he can play and wave his arms around in the air that he’s going to become a famous musician and conductor, but he needs to work on being a decent fucking person first.”

His rant wasn’t the most coherent, but it felt good to get off his chest, and he leaned back against the wall and took a hit to emphasize his point. The boys were quiet, and when Matteo raised an eyebrow at Jonas, he tilted his head to the front of the group where David was standing, scowling at him.

“We need to fucking talk.” David growled out through his teeth, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, looking like he was going to vibrate out of his skin with the amount of tension in his body.

Matteo said nothing but handed the joint off, and followed after David when he turned and walked out of the room. He was done. At that point he didn’t give a fuck if he got kicked from the program, or if he was fucking kicked out of the school, because he and David needed to settle whatever their issue was then and there.

David led him down the hall and he knocked loudly on a door before shoving it open, and grabbed Matteo’s wrist to pull him inside. Matteo noticed it was a bathroom, and quickly glanced around to see if anybody was watching them. He wondered what they thought was happening. Someone in the band would probably recognize the stiff way David was holding his body, and see Matteo trailing almost lazily behind him, and know that something was about to go down. But someone else might just see two boys going into a bathroom together at a party, and come to a completely different conclusion. Matteo almost laughed at the thought. Yeah, he was gay, but he didn’t know if David was. He didn’t know if David even had the time or patience to date or hook up with anyone.

He could tell that his apparent apathy towards the situation was just pissing David off further, so he closed the door slowly, not even locking it before leaning back against it with a bored sigh. He definitely wasn’t actually as calm as he looked; he crossed his arms across his chest so the shaking in his hands would be less obvious, and it was taking a lot of effort to keep his face neutral when he saw how angry David was. He didn’t think David was going to hurt him or anything, but he was terrified about what the fight could lead to when it came to his position in the band.

“I don’t know what your fucking problem is, Matteo, but I don’t have any kind of attitude. I care about what I do and I want it to be done right. It’s not my fault that you don’t care enough to actually try, but it is really fucking with my experience here,” David said quietly, his voice a little too calm for his red face and clenched fists, “I can’t conduct a band when I need to stop every five seconds because you lose your place.”

Matteo snorted, and leaned his head back against the door. It was taking him a minute to figure out what he wanted to say and he was surprised that David was quiet, like he was giving Matteo the time to think.

“David,” Matteo said, after figuring out what was probably the dumbest part of the whole issue, “you’re good enough to be hired anywhere. Me being a shitty band member won’t stop you,” he paused for a moment, and then picked his head up and said, “And I do try. I’m good. The only reason I’m still here is because they know I’m good. I just don’t need to prove it like you do.”

He was glad that his mind was clear enough to get his exact point across, and he watched David as his words sunk in, realizing that David had probably drank too, considering the way he was leaning back on the counter, his legs a little unsteady. David stared at Matteo for a minute before standing up straighter.

“I don’t need to prove anything,” he said, “I know I’m good.”

“Then why are you such a dick?” Matteo asked, “Like, specifically to me? Yeah, you yell at everyone but you’re just mean to me. Are you homophobic or something?”

Matteo couldn’t stop the thought from drifting through his mind and out his drunk mouth. Maybe David was, and there was going to be no way to solve the issue. What the fuck would he tell Rick?

“What? No, I’m not homophobic,” David said, looking like he wanted to laugh at the idea but was too confused to, “I’m trans.”

“Trans people can be homophobic.” Matteo said, shrugging, knowing that it was a stupid point to make. He was honestly just happy for a break in the tension.

David actually laughed, before tilting his head and smirking at Matteo and saying, “Trust me, I’m not. That would be kinda weird considering I’m also not straight.”

The way he said it made something hot bloom in Matteo’s stomach, and he hated his stupid, gay brain for reacting. That statement combined with the look on David’s face, and the fact that despite their stupid rivalry David was still really fucking hot, was making Matteo lose sight of the original conversation a little.

“You’re hot.” He said, verbalizing his thoughts before he could stop himself, and then he clamped his mouth shut and bit his lip, half terrified that David was going to get angrier, and half glad that he was just getting everything off his chest thanks to the alcohol in his system.

David fell back against the counter, the smirk dropping from his face, and he blinked before stammering out, “Uh. What?”

“I think you heard me,” Matteo said, shrugging, and then he looked off to the side before looking back at David’s confused face and saying again, “you’re hot.”

“Why- what does that have to do with any of this?” David asked, and Matteo couldn’t tell if he was angrier but he sounded different, in a way that made him stand up against the door a little.

He just shrugged again, and then stared at David as he tried to work through whatever was going on in his head. Matteo watched as he stood still for a minute, his fists loosening and tightening at his sides, and he watched as David’s eyes scanned up and down his body with the same focus they would scan the band with, and he watched as David pushed himself off the sink, took a few confident steps forward, and shoved Matteo against the door and pressed their lips together.

Matteo’s eyes widened and then slid closed as he felt David’s hands clutching tight onto his hips, and he grabbed at David’s arms and just as he started moving his lips David pulled away roughly, and was back against the sink in a second.

“That was a bad idea,” David said, holding onto the edge of the sink, avoiding Matteo’s eyes by looking off to the side, “we’re both drunk, we’re fighting, we can’t do that.”

“We don’t have to fight,” Matteo said, knowing that it probably was a bad idea but stepping forward anyway, until he was close enough to see just how tight David was anchoring himself to the sink, “you can tell me to fuck off and I will. Or,” he said, taking another step closer until his foot was kicking against David’s and he could reach out and grab his wrist, “I can stay.”

David only looked back at him when he felt the tug on his arm, and he looked down at Matteo’s hand before looking him in the eyes. Matteo took a risk and slid his hand down, grabbing David’s, and was shocked when David used that grip to pull him in for another kiss, backing him up until his back was smacking into the door again. He got an arm around David’s neck before he was pulling away,  again, and Matteo sighed as David rubbed a hand over his face and said, “Fuck, no, this is such a bad idea.”

“Maybe,” Matteo said, rolling his shoulders as he asked, “can you just make up your mind? This is hurting my back.”

David looked at Matteo again, looked him up and down the same way that he had earlier that night, and something seemed to click. He tilted his head again, his eyes filled with a sudden new brightness as he stepped forward, placing his hands on the door on either side of Matteo’s hips, boxing him in.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” he said, and Matteo raised an eyebrow, amused, before he continued, “whatever happens tonight happens, and then we don’t talk about it, and it never happens again. Deal?”

Matteo thought it over for a minute, more trying to get one last little jab at David by making him wait for an answer, and once he saw David’s face go from confident to bordering on annoyed, he grinned and stuck out his hand, and said, “Deal.”

David ignored his hand but grabbed his ass and pulled him in close, his hands dragging up to Matteo’s waist as their mouths met again, and Matteo slid a hand into David’s hair and let himself melt against the door.

***

Matteo woke up the next morning with a dry mouth and a bad headache, both of which he attributed to the hangover he almost definitely had. He couldn’t even remember drinking that much, but the pain behind his eyes was more than just him being tired like usual. He got himself out of bed, just wanting to drink some water and get into a hot shower to wash away the sweat and alcohol from the party.

He got into the bathroom and turned the shower on, tugging his shirt over his head as he yawned and rubbed at his eyes. He blinked at himself in the mirror, taking in the pale face, the fucked up hair, the red eyes, the bruise on his neck, the-

Matteo jolted forward and slapped his hand over the mark on his neck, before moving it so he could gawk at the dark purple and red. Seeing it brought back a rush of memories from the night before, memories that Matteo couldn’t believe he had forgotten, and he stared at himself with wide eyes and let out a quiet, “Fuck.”

***

Matteo debated whether or not he should skip the next band rehearsal. He knew that realisitcally he couldn’t, and that skipping because of a hickey was so dumb that he shouldn’t have even been considering it. He just didn’t want to face his friends and have them ask questions, and even more than that he didn’t want to see David.

He figured that David wasn’t planning on showing up for their usual private session, so he got to band with just enough time to still be considered early, and he found a quiet corner of the theater to set his baritone up in, a row of seats off to the side. He smiled when he saw Jonas come in, but it fell quickly when he saw Jonas notice the hickey on his neck, and the pure joy and confusion that came over his face.

“Dude!” Jonas exclaimed, staring obviously at the mark, “Who gave you that?”

“Someone from the orchestra, I barely remember his name.” Matteo said as casually as he could, having thought of the lie on his way to band. Jonas nodded with a grin and held out his fist, and Matteo rolled his eyes and bumped his against it, grateful that the idea of him and David hooking up was so unbelievable that it wouldn’t even enter Jonas’ mind.

“And what happened with Schreibner?” Jonas was bouncing on his toes, excited for the news and probably expecting a story.

Matteo snorted and rolled his eyes again, before turning back to his half-assembled baritone, and shrugged and said, “We worked it out.”

Fucked it out is more like it, Matteo thought to himself, and he shook his head to rid it of that kind of thinking.

Matteo got settled in his seat, listening to the cacophony around him, and then finally let himself glance around the room to see where David was. He was surprised when he didn’t find him, unable to think of any other time where David showed up late (besides that one time with the sheet music), but the doors suddenly burst open and the conductor walked in, David hot on his heels as always, whispering as they finished up what looked to be an intense conversation.

“Sorry we’re late, we got caught up discussing the sequence of songs for the concert, but I’m glad to see you’re all ready to go.” Rick said as he grabbed his baton, and he waited for David to sit in his usual seat in the clarinet section before counting them into their first song.

Matteo spent the entire rehearsal trying his hardest to not stare at David while doing exactly that, but he was lucky that David never returned his gaze. He seemed to be actively avoiding looking in Matteo’s direction, which made sense considering the deal they had made, but he was still a little let down that David didn’t even look at him. He even found himself disappointed when David didn’t end up conducting that day, and got up and went over to his case once they were dismissed.

He was glaring at his bottle of valve oil, realizing that he was low and was going to need to go get more, when a shadow fell over him. He looked up with a smile, assuming it would be Jonas, but it dropped when he saw David standing there. He had his jacket on, his clarinet case clutched tightly in his hand, and his backpack on his back, and he was staring down at Matteo with something between apathy and irritation on his face.

“Where were you earlier?”

Matteo raised an eyebrow. He tossed the valve oil back in his case before snapping it shut, and stood up and gathered all of his things before turning to face David again and shrugging, letting his eyes drift to the side as he said, “I figured I’d give things a day to chill after...you know.”

“After what?” David asked, with a tilt of his head, and more pointed, forced confusion on his face than Matteo had ever seen. Oh, so that was how it was gonna be.

Matteo smiled back tightly. “You know what, never mind. I’ll be there next time.”

There was a moment where David’s eyes darted down to Matteo’s neck and back up just as quick. His cheeks got a little pink. Matteo smirked.

“Good.” David said simply, and then turned and left. Matteo stared after him, and smirked when he saw David turn again to look at him one more time before almost jogging out of the theater.

Matteo heard a snort from behind him, and he whipped his head around to see Jonas standing there.

“Fuckin’ dick,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of the door, “what was he yelling about this time?”

“Nothing important.” Matteo said, shrugging again, readjusting his grip on his baritone case as they started walking towards the door.

“Is it ever with him?” Jonas joked, elbowing Matteo in the arm, and they both laughed as they left the theater, Jonas waving a goodbye to the people who called out to him. Nobody said anything to Matteo, and he sighed as they made their way down the hall.

“Who knows, man,” Jonas started after a second, pausing and then turning to Matteo with a grin, jabbing him again, “maybe Schreibner is just secretly gay and super jealous of whoever gave you that hickey.”

Matteo snorted, before laughing out loud as they got outside. He shook his head and chuckled when Jonas shot him a confused look.

“I don’t think that’s it.”

*****

The next day that Matteo was meant to meet David, he woke up, and the anxious and dark feeling that settled over him immediately made him want to turn over and go back to sleep. It didn’t have anything to do with David, Matteo knew that, had a diagnosis that proved that, but he couldn’t help the dread that filled him at the thought of sitting in a practice room getting scolded over and over again by the same guy who had given him a hickey the week before.

He lit a joint as he left his place. There were tons of off-campus apartments around his school, and he had managed to get a place with Jonas. It was small, but they had all the rooms they needed, and a balcony attached to Matteo’s room for him to smoke on. It was perfect.

Smoking that day was a bad choice, though. He had gone to band high before, and knew that his fingers would be slower and he wouldn’t be able to focus, but it wouldn’t be any different with the fog filling his head. The only difference was that at least he would be out of it enough to not be bothered by the criticizing.

But by the time he got there, he had almost forgotten that before he had band, he had to see David. He knew it would be obvious he was high, and was preparing himself for whatever David would have to say about it. He was also a little late because he needed to take a minute outside of the building to breath and calm himself down. The weed had done the job of dulling everything coming in, but the anxiety twisting up inside of his gut was still pretty active. He took another shaky breath before pushing into the practice room.

“You’re late.” David said sternly, turning in the seat to glare at Matteo as he shuffled in. Matteo barely acknowledged that he had spoken besides a half shrug until he was settled in his chair, with his baritone set up.

“Bad morning,” he said in a quiet voice, before putting his music on the stand and saying, “let’s just start.”

David went easy on him at first, starting off with one of their simpler songs just to make sure Matteo understood one set of measures that the entire band had been messing up. It didn’t require much complex counting or a lot of movement, so Matteo was playing fine. It was a little further into the session when David switched to a different song, one that Matteo could play most days, but not with his fuzzy brain and fingers that started to shake when David pointed at the measure he wanted Matteo to start with,

He barely got through the first measure before David was cutting him off and telling him to start over, and then stopping him again to count out the beats, and then finally stopping him again when Matteo was playing at a tempo so wrong that he didn’t even know what he was doing.

“Okay, stop, stop,” David said, and he flopped back in his chair with a huff, “what the fuck is going on today?”

“Nothing,” Matteo muttered, leaning back in his chair as well, but crossing his arms over his chest, “I told you, bad morning.”

David turned to stare at him, actually looking at him for the first time he had come in, and Matteo saw understanding dawn on his face before a glare took its place.

“Oh, I get it,” David said, shifting back in his chair, “you’re really trying to get kicked out, aren’t you?”

“No, what the fuck?” Matteo said, shaking his head at the idea.

“So you thought coming in stoned was a good way to keep your spot?”

Matteo froze, before asking quietly, “Are you going to narc?”

David rolled his eyes and snorted, and opened his mouth, before closing it again and leaning back more in his chair. He squinted at Matteo for a second, and then asked, “Why did you do it?”

“What?” Matteo asked, running a hand through his hair, his eyes darting to the side because he hadn’t even thought about what could happen if David told anyone that he had showed up high.

“Get high, before coming here? If you aren’t trying to get kicked out? Did you think it was a good idea?” David seemed almost amused by the conversation.

“None of your fucking business.”

“I kind of think it is, though, if you’re going to be showing up here, at a time that I only agreed to meet at because you need help-”

“Shut the fuck up, you have to be here just as much as I do, in case you forgot,” Matteo snapped, feeling himself losing a bit of the control that he was usually very careful to hold onto, “and if you really need to know, my brain is pretty fucked up and coming here and getting yelled at by you doesn’t help. Shockingly, it makes it worse. So if you’re going to run off and tell the department that I’m high, make sure they know it’s because you’re so unbearable to work with that it’s the only way I can get through it.”

David stared at him, and swallowed, his face unreadable. Matteo took a deep breath and looked down at the ground, his pulse pounding in his ears. He pressed his fingers down on the valves of his baritone as he tried to get his breathing back under control after losing his temper, and with the new panic that was filling him. He was done for. There was no way David would let him get away with all of that, and Matteo knew that the department would not be happy to hear that he showed up to a rehearsal high before screaming at everyone’s favorite.

“Okay,” David said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Matteo’s head whipped to him. “What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed that you’re high right now,” David said, but his voice was still soft, and he was looking at Matteo with the closest thing to sympathy on his face that Matteo had seen from him, “but brains can suck. And I get that I can be...blunt.”

Matteo snorted. “Blunt, sure.”

“So here’s what we’re gonna do,” David said, and he took his phone out of his pocket and started typing, “have you ever listened to the songs that we’re playing?”

“Well, he played new pieces for us in the beginning of the semester. And I hear them when we play.” Matteo said with a shrug. He had never really been the type to listen to band music. He loved it, and loved playing it, but it already took up so much of his time. When he was listening to music on his own he usually chose stuff that he couldn’t tell you the time signature of.

“Yeah, but sitting in a section of a band and listening to the people around you is really different from hearing it like the audience does,” David said, barely looking up, “we still have some time before rehearsal, so let’s just listen to the songs until it’s time to go. I’ll point out some parts that you’re struggling with so you can hear how you fit into everything else.”

“Oh. Okay. That sounds good.” Matteo said, staring at David in shock as he kept tapping on his phone. After a few seconds, Matteo could hear the run that starts the first song in their program. David raised the volume and set his phone on the stand, and then leaned back in his chair, the corners of his lips turning up as the clarinet came in, playing the solo that David played every class.

“That person played it better,” Matteo said under his breath, a little uncomfortable with how suddenly accommodating David was being. He was sure light teasing was still safe. He smirked at the eyebrow David raised.

They listened to the next couple of songs, David pausing every now and then to point things out or tell Matteo to listen to the part coming up next. Matteo could see his hands twitching on his lap, tapping along to the beat, and sometimes, seemingly without even noticing, his hand would come up and with just a finger he would conduct to the room. Matteo watched until it seemed like David wasn’t paying attention to him anymore, and he leaned back in his own chair, and closed his eyes.

He was still listening, and he continued tapping his foot to the beat of every song that played. As the last note of the last piece played out in the room, Matteo let out the breath he had taken in and held during the final crescendo. He didn’t realize until then that he hadn’t even put away his baritone, the horn just resting in his lap, his hands moving across the brass and pressing down on the valves of their own accord.

“We should probably head out,” Matteo heard, and he opened his eyes slowly, not expecting to meet David’s as quickly as he did. David was staring at him with another unreadable expression, biting his lips as his eyes darted around Matteo’s face, down to his lips, before he bit his own and jumped up from his chair with a, “yeah, we need to be there in ten. Let’s pack up.”

*****

[insert blah blah whatever but then the conductor is like haha later this week im gonna be gone and david is gonna conduct all of you the whole time and matteo is like “lol k” but it actually ends up being fine?? And matteo plays better and david doesnt have to say anything to him and near the end he actually SMILES at him and matteo is like okay oaky….this is kinda nice i like not fighting with this dude also hes STILL SO FUCKING CUTE]

[flash forward to a couple weeks later they're still kinda getting along like they are still constantly teasing and bantering and arguing but its like,, nice and funny and ,maybe flirty??????]

“Why can’t we talk about it?” Matteo asked, finally, snapping his case shut and turning to stare at David’s suddenly stiff back. He heard David’s case zip up after a second, before he turned around, a tight smile on his face.

“Talk about what?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that made it obvious he wasn’t pleased.

“Stop acting like it’s fucking crazy that two people who don’t like each other got drunk at a party and hooked up,” Matteo said, rolling his eyes at David’s carefully controlled expression, “just because you’re so busy and important doesn’t mean you have to be boring.”

“I’m not boring,” David hissed, but he flopped back down in his seat and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling before saying, “I don’t want other people in the band finding out. I have a reputation with them, and I know that...I know this would make things weird.”

“If anything they’ll be jealous of me,” Matteo said with a laugh, “as if you don’t know how many of them eye fuck you while you’re conducting.”

“I’m not...oblivious,” David huffed, and Matteo smirked when he saw his cheeks get red as he looked down at the ground, “and that’s not it.”

Matteo tilted his head, trying to figure out what David meant as he looked up from the ground but off to the side, chewing on his lip. Somewhere in the back of his head a thought started brewing, and once he thought it it was impossible not to clear his throat, and take a breath before asking, “Is it because you think I’m bad? Like, a bad player? Do you not want them knowing you hooked up with me?”

“What? Matteo, no,” David looked at him sincerely for the first time since Matteo had started the conversation, and he reached a hand out, and Matteo jumped when it wrapped gently around his wrist, “I don’t think you’re a bad player, and that...that isn’t the problem. You aren’t the problem with this.”

“Then what is?” Matteo asked, exasperated even though he was the one to ask.

“It’s them,” David said, gesturing vaguely out but Matteo could guess he meant their bandmates, “I love them, but do you know how hard it would be to lead a group of people, including lots of people who have hit on me, if they knew I hooked up with the one member of the band that I-”

“That you what?” Matteo asked too quick, excited to hear the answer.

“That they have seen me get angry in the past- perhaps angrier than necessary.” David said calculating and slow, like admitting it hurt him somewhere deep. Matteo kind of hoped it did. After smiling to himself at that he refocused on the point of the conversation.

“Do you really think I’m planning on telling any of them?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief, “The only other people I talk to besides you are Carlos, Abdi, and Jonas, and I’m not telling them about any of it because I don’t want them giving me shit for any of it.”

“Why do you even want to talk about this?” David asked, looking up and fixing Matteo with a hard stare, “It happened a while ago, and it’s not like we had some romantic fucking moment of reconiliation. We got drunk, we argued, we hooked up, and now we can move on.”

“Well,” Matteo said, licking his lips and shrugging before looking up at David again, knowing that he didn’t really have a reason besides, “I had fun.”

David opened his mouth, and then closed it again, and then opened it again and just went, “Okay?”

“Didn’t you?” Matteo asked, trying for confidence, but coming off as a little desperate with the way he twisted in his seat to make sure he would catch David’s answer.

“I mean…” David started, his cheeks getting darker as his eyes darted around the room, then down to Matteo’s lips and up to his eyes again as he said, “yeah. I did.”

“Yeah, so,” Matteo said, shrugging again, “what’s the big deal if we acknowledge it? It happened, and now we-” he cut himself off, before taking a deep breath and continuing, “and now we see what happens next.”

David’s eyes popped open. Matteo shrugged again before standing and picking his case up, and his bag, and taking a couple of steps to the door. He turned when he heard silence behind him, and saw David frozen in his seat, still staring at him. He stared back for a moment before gesturing out the door and asking, “Are you coming?”

David blinked and nodded, before getting up and gathering his things as well, and he followed Matteo out the door, and they made the short trek to rehearsal.

Matteo felt different sitting down next to his bandmates that day. He was still full of adrenaline, but felt ready to play, quietly humming one of their songs to himself as his fingers pressed down on the associated valves. He couldn’t stop his gaze from flicking to David every few minutes, and he caught David looking back just as Rick walked onto the stage. David coughed and looked away, and Matteo smiled to himself before leaning back in his seat.

He could feel David’s eyes on him throughout the rehearsal, and he was surprised, but it encouraged him to keep sneaking peeks as well. His eyes would wander up from the page even when he was playing just to catch a glimpse of David in his seat, sitting up straight, his strong arms and shoulders holding the clarinet up, his lips wrapped around the mouthpiece-

Matteo was glad he had a lot of rests.

“David! You were supposed to come in there!” Rick yelled suddenly, smacking the score in front of him with his baton, “You’ve never missed that cue before, what’s got you so distracted today?”

The band was silent and they watched David blush as he said, “Sorry, Rick, I’ll focus better. Won’t happen again.”

The conductor just shook his head before telling them to start the piece over, which was followed by angry grumbles and the sound of papers flipping. David looked down at the ground, his cheeks an angry red, and Matteo bit back the smile that threatened to grow on his face.

[david cancels their next private lesson and matteo is like what why and then he gets to band that day and david is conducting again and he basically ignore matteo the entire time and matteo is a lil mad and then after matteo goes up to him and is like “hey wtf why did you cancel on me and then not even correct me when i messed up” and david is like “fuck cause youre super fucknig distracting now and i cant spend an hour alone with you and then get up in front of a group of people and conduct like an idiot cause im too busy thinking about YOU” but hes likes embarassed and actually mad about it and matteo is like oh my god are we going back to the anger i thought we were passed that and davids like well i guess not and matteos like lmao do we need to hook up again cause that seemed like it worked pretty well last time and david is like,, so fucking pissed but is more pissed that hes kind of into that idea so he locks the practice room door and basically they hook up in the practice room because wow what a fantasy that is]

[things are like….weird but chill for a while after that. It seemed like being able to hook up with matteo again made david less distracted by him in a destructive way and even put a bit of a pep in his step?? And matteo notices that hes being a bit nicer to everyone, not just him, and hes actually smiling and complimenting matteo during their private sessions, and even though nothing is explicitly referenced they both know something's going on. Neither of them would call the other a friend though]

[this is after they hook up the third time, which is the first time that isnt completely out of anger but they arent really friends They just happened to run into each other after a concert and were both being a bit flirty and matteo was very boldly like “hey uh come back to my place” because he thinks and david actually does]

“Tell me something about you,” Matteo said, turning his head and propping it up on his arms so he could see David. The light was low in the room, and the plant near his lamp was casting strange shadows on the walls, and on David himself, leaned back against the wall like he was.

“Uh,” David started, his eyes dancing around the room as he tried to think of something, “I started playing the clarinet when I was-”

Matteo reached out and pinched his leg. David twitched, and raised an eyebrow at him. Matteo hoped that David was okay with the fact that he just kept touching him. It was hard to keep his hands away, and he didn’t know David’s comfort level with non-sexual physical contact. So far he seemed more amused than anything else.

“Tell me something not related to music.” Matteo said, and David snorted at the request.

“Why?” He asked, reaching down to push Matteo’s hair out of his eyes. He bit his lip, wishing that David kept his hand on him longer.

“I just think, you know,” Matteo said, hoping he wasn’t pushing it by sliding his hand onto David’s thigh, the same one he had pinched, “might not be the time to to get into that topic. Just in case.”

I don’t want to start arguing when we just had really great sex and we’re like five minutes away from cuddling if I play my cards right, is what Matteo was thinking, but he figured he got the point across.

David hummed, and nodded, the amused smile still on his face, and tilted his head against the wall and said, “Okay, let me think.”

Matteo stared at him, from where the blanket was draped over his lap, up his bare chest, up the angle of his neck, and still found himself blown away at how beautiful he was. He sighed, glad that David wasn’t watching him swoon.

“Okay I got something,” David said suddenly, turning to Matteo, his eyes bright, “so, growing up we had a cat. My sister got to name it because she was older, and she named the cat Martha Jones, after a Doctor Who character. That cat fucking hated me.”

Matteo laughed, but David didn’t look like he was done, so he prompted him with, “And?”

“Years later, I moved in with my sister, and she wants us to get another cat. So, we go to a shelter, and there’s a cage in the back with a sign on it that says ‘Martha Jones’. Completely different cat, but of course my sister says we have to see her.”

Matteo nodded, enthralled.

“So she goes to ask a worker, and this dude says that that cat was a biter, would hiss, and scratched anyone that went near her unless they had food. Laura insisted, because she’s stubborn, so they brought us into a room and the dude basically tossed the cat in with us and closed the door.”

“That doesn’t sound safe.” Matteo said, shifting closer until he was able to rest his head in David’s lap. He couldn't hold back the need any longer, and he was pleased when David started playing with his hair.

“It wasn’t, she immediately scratched me so bad I started bleeding,” David said with a chuckle, “but she chilled out after a bit, my sister was very persistent. After like 20 minutes she was purring in my lap.” David finished with a proud smile down at Matteo.

If Matteo hadn’t already been crushing that would’ve sealed the deal. It did make something soft settle in his chest, and made his hands a little tingly, and he didn’t think twice before asking, “Can I see a picture?”

David looked thrilled at the question, and he leaned over to grab his phone. Matteo watched, biting back a grin as David scrolled through his pictures before settling on one and handing his phone over, obviously excited for Matteo to see.

The first thing Matteo could make out was a metal music stand, the same basic kind he had in his room for practicing, but it was tilted so the tray was lying flat. He grinned at the cat bed that was resting on top of it, and actually awwwed out loud at the pretty calico, splayed out on her back in a sunbeam. The stand was in front of a large window, and Matteo could see plants around it, and he wondered if it was David’s room.

“Yeah,” David said, looking at the picture again himself before putting his phone down. Matteo felt a tug on his hair, and he looked up to see David staring down at him, and he said, “now you.”

“Me? I don’t have any cats to show off,” Matteo said, wrapping his arms around David’s legs so he could squeeze himself closer.

“No, now you have to tell me something about yourself,” David said, rolling his eyes, but his face was softer than Matteo had ever seen it.

“Oh, shit,” Matteo said, not thinking that David was going to turn the conversation on him, and he hummed for a second before saying the first thing he could think of, “well, I like to sing. When I was younger I used to have a vocal coach and everything, now I mostly just sing whenever my roommate isn’t home.”

It wasn’t something he brought up, or really thought about too often, because ultimately the decision for him to stop the training was out of his hands, and he regretted not being able to go farther with it the same way he could with the baritone.

“Why’d you stop?” David asked, his voice soft, as if he could sense the sadness underlying the statement.

“Well,” Matteo said, shifting back a little bit so he could roll onto his back and say it up to the ceiling, “my mom was the one who got me the lessons, I had already been taking them for the baritone for a year or so. My dad got pissed, because I was already singing in the church choir at that point, and he didn’t want singing to distract from my other music shit. When I got older, uh,” he paused to take a breath, “there was a while where my mom wasn’t living with us, so all the singing lessons stopped. I stopped singing at church, too, and, well. I was better at the baritone anyway.”

He hadn’t noticed that while he had been talking, David had slid down more on the bed until he was resting on his side, and he was staring with a concerned look when Matteo turned to him again,

“They have vocal coaches through the school,” David said, an arm inching across the mattress towards Matteo, “you can sign up for one, if you want. I can get you the email of the person who sets them up, I-”

Matteo laughed at David’s eagerness to help, cutting him off, and rolled back over onto his side, surprised at how close he found himself to David. He felt a hand gently sliding onto his hip, and he bit his lip, his eyes meeting David’s, and he leaned in to kiss him.

David didn’t seem to have expected it. He made a sound, and Matteo worried for a moment that he was going to pull away but instead he was pulled in closer, David’s hand sliding onto the small of his back. He pulled away, and David rolled onto his back, his cheeks pink.

“Thanks, but I don’t need any of that,” Matteo said, and he hesitantly let his head drop onto David’s shoulder, and then let his arm drape across his stomach when David tangled their legs together, “it’s just something I do for fun now.”

“For fun,” David repeated, and then took a breath and asked, “since the topic of music is back on the table, do you want to hear a secret?”

Matteo looked up, amused, and then propped his chin on David’s chest so he could see him better, and he said, “Yes, please.”

“So, I can play almost every wind instrument, right? And brass too, and I can figure out percussion pretty quickly. I can pretty much play anything you’ll find in the average wind ensemble, and then some.”

Matteo rolled his eyes, “That’s not a secret.”

“Yeah, but,” David took another breath, and it seemed like it actually pained him to say, “I can’t play anything with fucking strings.”

“Really?” Matteo asked, leaning up a bit more so he could see the hurt on David’s face, and he grinned, and questioned, “not even guitar? Or ukulele? Even I can play those a bit.”

“Nope,” David sulked, “nothing. One time my friend gave me her violin to try and she said I should be banned from ever touching anything with strings again.”

Matteo covered his mouth with his hands to stop the giggles that were threatening to pour out of him. It wasn’t like there was any actual expectation that David was able to play every single instrument that existed, but the shame he seemed to be feeling about his own inability was hilarious.

“Now you have to tell me something else too,” David said, poking Matteo in the cheek, obviously trying to change the subject,

“You offered that information up freely, I don’t have to tell you shit.” Matteo snarked back. He was still reeling from how strange this new dynamic was, and he wanted to push a bit, see what was allowed.

David scrunched his face up before suddenly grabbing Matteo’s wrist and flipping him onto his back, David hovering over him, looking much too pleased with himself. Once he could tell Matteo wasn’t going to try to move he slid his hand off his wrist and down his chest, onto his hip, and blinked his dark eyes slow and said, “Tell me something.”

“I can speak Italian,” Matteo blurted out immediately, unable to resist a hot, mostly naked boy pinning him to his bed.

“Oh yeah?” David asked with a grin, “Fluently?”

“Yeah,” Matteo said, his eyes wide as he stared up at David, “my dad’s from Italy, we spoke it when I was growing up.”

David hummed, still looking down at Matteo with the same cocky smile on his face, and said, “Say something.”

“No,” Matteo refused, and with a sudden burst of confidence he slid his hand onto the back of David’s head and said, “kiss me.”

David’s eyes widened but he smiled, and did as told. The conversation ended there.

*****

A few days later, a weekend, Matteo walked out onto his balcony. It was midday, and he had already eaten and gotten the work done for his academic classes, so he had an unlit joint dangling between his lips. He stretched, and squinted when the sun shone down on him bright enough to hurt his eyes. He dashed back into his room, intent on finding the sunglasses he knew were somewhere, and he saw something balanced against the wall in the corner that made him pause.

It was a ukulele, his ukulele, one that a random family member had gotten him when he was first accepted to the school. It was a bright blue, and Matteo knew that with most instruments a bright color didn’t ensure the best quality, but he didn’t mind because he barely played the thing. It was good enough for the random time every few months where Matteo would decide to teach himself a new song.

He thought back on his conversation with David. He felt the corners of his lips twitch up, remembering David’s pained face when he revealed his secret, and with a small laugh he grabbed the neck of the ukulele and tucked it under his arm. He found his sunglasses on the floor next to his desk, and slid them onto his face before walking back out the door.

He leaned against the railing of the balcony as he lit the joint, smiling around it, and puffing the smoke out his nose. His room faced out to an empty street, across from a bunch of buildings that he was sure nobody had gone inside for years. He liked how private it felt, for the years he had lived there he had only seen a handful of people out there.

Which made it the perfect place for him to pluck out a few random chords on the ukulele without the judgement he usually faced when playing music. He wasn’t good by any means, but he knew enough chords to play enough songs to keep himself occupied. There were even a few times when he and Jonas had played together out there, usually after a few beers or joints when Matteo was feeling less self conscious about giggling as he badly played along with Jonas actually playing his guitar.

He puffed on the joint, his eyes closing under the sunglasses as he started strumming. His fingers had settled naturally on the frets, playing the chords to the last song he had taught himself, one Jonas had played in his car that got stuck in Matteo’s head. He hummed along, but stopped when the joint almost fell out of his mouth. He took a step back, rolled his shoulders, and started playing again.

The joint did fall out of his mouth, tumbling to the ground at Matteo’s feet, thankfully not setting anything on fire, when he heard from the street below him, “Matteo?”

Oh god, he recognized the voice immediately. He bent down to grab the joint and stubbed it out on the ashtray conveniently right next to him, and took a deep breath before peeking over the railing. And he was right about the voice, as David was standing there, a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun, squinting up at the balcony.

“Uh, yeah,” Matteo called back, lifting a hand to wave awkwardly before realizing that he was still clutching the ukulele, so he set it down, his fingers tight around the neck, “that’s me.”

“Nice shades.” David said, smirking up as he moved his hand from his eyes. The sun was going behind some clouds so the glare was gone, and Matteo lifted the sunglasses from his eyes with a blush.

“What are you doing over here?” Matteo asked, leaning over the edge so he could get a closer look. David had a bike next to him, and a backpack tight on his back, obviously either coming or going from somewhere.

“Oh, well, actually,” David said, digging the toe of his shoe into the ground like he was embarrassed by the question, “I was just taking a shortcut.”

Matteo snorted, and looked down at his arms folded across the railing. He didn’t really know what to say. He wasn’t expecting to see David obviously, and it didn’t seem like David’s answer matched his reaction to the question. He wanted to know what that was about. After an almost awkward silence, just as David’s hand tightened around the handle of his bike, Matteo quickly asked, “Do you want to come up?”

Something about David made Matteo do that a lot, blurt out things that drifted through his head that he wouldn’t usually say without a second more to think about it. He blushed after he asked, looking down at his arms again, not wanting to watch David uncomfortably decline. Sometimes it was hard to remember that they weren’t really supposed to like each other.

“Okay.” David said, confidently, and Matteo’s eyes snapped back down. David was looking up at him with his head tilted, a smile on his face like Matteo’s question was a challenge.

“Oh,” Matteo responded, needing to take a minute to realize that David was actually agreeing, “um, go around the front and I’ll buzz you in?”

David nodded, and hopped on his bike and disappeared around the corner of the building. Matteo let out a breath and rushed into his room, looking around with wide eyes to see what he needed to quickly kick under his bed and shove in his closet. He managed to tidy his room up enough to not be embarrassed by the time the buzzer went off, and Matteo ran to it, not even knowing if Jonas was home but desperately hoping he wasn’t.

He pulled the door open, biting his lip when David came into view, smiling slightly in that cocky way he did. He felt like he would swallow his tongue if he spoke out loud so he waved David into the flat, blushing at the chuckle David let out as he did so, and David bowed his head as he walked in, stepping past Matteo and stopping in the entrance to the main part of the flat.

“We should go chill on your balcony,” David said, looking around like he had never been there before. To be fair, the only time David had been there they were stumbling through the dark to Matteo’s room trying to keep their lips connected, so he didn’t blame him for taking the time to look around in the daylight.

Matteo nodded, and then realizing he hadn’t actually said anything since David came up, cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, sure.”

He led an amused David through his room, pointedly avoiding looking at his bed, his face flushing although he kept his eyes trained forward. David didn’t say anything, or even show in any way that he remembered the fact that just days ago they had been wrapped up in each other in that very same bed, kissing and touching and a lot else. Matteo didn’t know how he was so nonchalant about it when the sight of the bed instantly brought the taste of David’s lips to Matteo’s head, the feeling of his hands on him, Matteo’s hands in his hair. He shook his head and pulled the door to the balcony open harder than he meant to.

He was glad that they had chairs set out on the balcony, ones they had found outside some other building when they first moved in. They didn’t match but they were surprisingly comfortable and most importantly, not broken. Matteo only sat after David had picked a chair, and looked up at him, an amused smile still on his face.

“I should tell you that I lied, earlier.” David said suddenly, after Matteo sat. He looked up, confused, at David’s smile.

“Lied about what?”

“I wasn’t really taking a shortcut.”

Matteo raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

David nodded, and bent down, digging around in the backpack at his feet. Matteo settled back in his seat to watch until David sprang back up with a book in his hand.

“Don’t tell anyone,” David started, flipping to a page near the end, “but I might sometimes sneak into buildings in a way that isn’t totally...legal.”

Matteo smiled at that, tilting his head, and asked, “For any particular reason, or do you just like the thrill?”

David smiled back, not cocky, and said, “It is pretty thrilling, especially when you get chased out by security guards. But I really do it for this.”

His cheeks got a little rosy when he handed the book over to Matteo, and Matteo’s jaw dropped when he looked down at the page. He was expecting words, but instead there was a sketch done in black pencil, and it took Matteo a minute to piece together what it was.

[idk dude figure out what he drew i guess lmao i dont care enough to try to write this part rn]

“These are… really good,” Matteo said, flipping through the pages. He didn’t really know if David wanted him to but he didn’t try to stop him, so Matteo let his eyes wander over the pages.

“Yeah, well,” David said, sounding a little sheepish, “it’s a hobby, I guess.”

Matteo was quiet as he turned page after page, finding sketches of more abandoned buildings, random people, different plants. A cat popped up a few times, which made Matteo smile, along with the doodles of instruments and staff lines half filled with notes. He didn’t realize how long he had been absorbed in the book until he noticed he was on the second to last page. He stared at the drawing that seemed somewhat familiar, a barely-started portrait, a head with short swooping hair, a button nose, a small smile-

“Okay, um,” David said quickly, his hand darting out to grab at the book, “yeah, a lot of those last ones aren’t finished. Not really that interesting.”

“I thought they were,” Matteo muttered, a little annoyed at being interrupted. He had been enjoying himself.

“I, uh,” David started as he shoved the book back into his bag, “don’t usually show that to people.”

Matteo tilted his head. He had never seen David look less sure of himself. He leaned back in the chair, biting his lip, his eyes avoiding Matteo’s. He seemed almost… shy? Timid? Words that Matteo would never associate with David.

“Well, you should,” Matteo said after a moment of silence, “it sucks that you’re amazing at that too.”

That got a bit of a chuckle, and Matteo grinned at David until their eyes met. There was a beat, and then David looked away again.

“I don’t know,” David said, his cheeks getting pink again, “that’s something I really only do when I need to escape. I just… go somewhere, and draw whatever I can find. I don’t really show people because I’m not doing it for anyone else. Like… you know.”

Matteo had a million questions about what he meant by that, but David had crossed his arms over his chest and looked off to the side after saying it, his jaw set. He let out a long exhale through his nose, and Matteo got the hint that he didn’t want to further dissect that statement.

Matteo leaned back in his chair, quiet, trying to figure out how to turn the conversation back around. He could tell David maybe hadn’t meant to say as much as he did, maybe was a little embarrassed at revealing something so personal. Showing off a picture of his cat a week or so prior was nothing compared to talking about something that he was actively keeping to himself. His escape, from what Matteo knew was a very stressful and hectic life.

He thought for a moment, his eyes darting around the balcony to find something to change the topic, to stop David from looking so uncomfortable. His eyes landed on his ukulele. He paused there, the thought alone making his heart race and something nervous twist up in his stomach, but before he could stop himself he reached out and grabbed it, letting it settle in his arms the way it always did. David didn’t look over until Matteo accidentally twanged one of the strings.

“Um,” he said, when David’s eyes widened and a grin started growing over his face, “I’ll trade you.”

The grin stopped, David tilted his head in confusion and asked, “You’ll trade me what?”

“You told me about what you do that’s just for you, that you don’t usually share with other people,” Matteo strummed, quickly adjusting a couple of the tuning pegs until the sound was just right, “only fair that I do the same.”

“I didn’t think that playing the ukulele was that important to you.”  David said, uncrossing his arms, relaxing back into his chair a bit. The tension was gone from his face, and his lips were curved up at the sides.

“It’s not,” Matteo said with a smirk that looked more confident than he felt, and he took a deep breath before putting his fingers on the frets.

He started strumming the song he had been playing when David showed up, looking down at his hands because he knew he would need to focus on the chords and not on David looking at him. He took another deep breath, tried not to think about it, and started singing.

“There once was a bittersweet man and they called him Lemon Boy….”

Matteo hadn’t considered the lyrics before singing them, just picking a song that was fresh in his head so he wouldn’t embarrass himself by messing up, not that David would have been shocked by that. It was a simple song, pretty, one that he didn’t have to think too hard about. But as he sang it, as the lyrics came out of his mouth less timid with every word, he felt butterflies in his stomach. He got to the chorus, and closed his eyes.

“Lemon Boy and me started to get along, together,” he sang, ignoring the heat he could feel spreading across his cheeks, “I helped him plant his seeds and we'd mow the lawn in bad weather.”

Matteo stumbled on a chord, managed to fix it in a second but he knew David heard it. He continued, though. David had reminded him of that often, not to stop when he made a mistake.

“It’s actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him...”

He sang the next verse, getting a little sloppy with the chords as he failed to not think about the words he was singing. He got through it, got halfway through the next chorus, and was suddenly cut off when loud classical music started playing from David’s bag. His hands stilled, and he opened his eyes.

It was as if David hadn’t even noticed he stopped, or the sound coming from somewhere near his feet. His eyes were wide, shiny and dark, staring into Matteo’s, leaning forward in his chair like he didn’t want to miss a single word, a single strum of Matteo’s fingers over the strings. His head was tilted, lips parted just enough that a long shaky breath could escape, his hands gripping tight to the arms of the chair. He looked awed by Matteo’s mediocre performance.

David’s gaze snapped down to his bag when the classical music started again, and he whispered an, “Oh, shit,” as he dug through it. He pulled his phone out and Matteo expected him to put it to his ear, assuming the music was a ringtone, but instead he could see it was an alarm that David turned off with a slide of his finger across the screen.

“I was supposed to be home a while ago, I need to, uh,” David cut himself off as he stood, shoving his phone into his pocket and zipping his bag closed before swinging it onto his back, “I have to do my shot today.”

“Oh,” Matteo responded, not understanding what David meant. He wasn’t able to say anything else, like singing had taken the rest of his voice for the day.

“You know, testosterone?” David stuttered out, nervous, as if Matteo didn’t already know he was trans.

“Oh,” Matteo said again, almost smacking himself in the face when he blurted out, “have fun?”

That made David pause, his franticness to leave slowing as a smile grew over his face. He bit his lip, and then to Matteo’s shock, let out a laugh.

“I’ll try my best,” he said, winking. That action alone was enough to have Matteo collapsing back into his chair. David turned towards the door, put one foot back into the apartment, and then stopped before saying, “oh, and Matteo?”

“Yes?” Matteo said, leaning forward again, greedy to hear whatever David was about to say.

“One day I’ll show people my art. Have an exhibit at a museum, maybe.” he said, turning his head so he could look back at Matteo with a soft smile on his face, “but only if I can hire you to sing there.”

Matteo’s jaw dropped, his face turning bright red as David walked through the door. He flopped back in his chair, waited until he could hear the clicks of his door opening and then closing, and let out the breath he had been holding for who knows how long.

[diavolosthots]

DARK DECEPTION CHAPTER 9

READ CHAPTER 8 HERE

Authors Note: whats popping I'm back. Sorry it took so long. 😅 I have no clue if that's the same gif i used before whoops. Also I hope you enjoy "Brain-Wrecker3002" the best console in the Devildom. So bare with me and Mario kart. Just do it for the sake of the story.

Warnings: none

Pairing(s): Diavolo x Reader, Leviathan, Barbatos

Diavolo wasn’t kidding when he said he had set up a gaming room. You had yet to know all of the castle’s layout, but you were certain that this was one of the biggest ones. “For me?” You questioned, not necessarily intending for it to be said out loud. “For everyone, but I imagine you will be spending quite a lot of time here, My Lady.” Barbatos seemed too nice, as always, but you didn’t have time to worry about it. You were staring at a gigantic screen half the size of the wall. Red cushioned floor beds were made into seating areas with snacks and drinks right beside each one. Consoles for days, both from the human realm and the Devildom itself, along with games that you both loved and couldn’t wait to try, “this is amazing.” Honestly, your jaw was on the floor and you had to look around the room one more time to make sure it was real. Barbatos chuckled behind you, but excused himself for duties soon after, and for a while, you just stood there in the massive room. 

Although amazement seethed through your body, you had to take this opportunity and realize that you were finally alone and not locked up in his room. You weren’t going to be completely alone, no, but you were going to be with an outsider, and Leviathan nonetheless. Of course, none of this meant the coast was clear, and you were almost certain that Barbatos, and or Diavolo, were watching you, somehow, someway. You needed to be smarter than them. You needed to find a way to tell Leviathan something without them noticing, or at least noticing right away. 

“(Y/N)?” You jumped at the voice, turning to see Levi standing there with Barbatos, who was still smiling way too casually. “Levi!” Happiness ran through you and you immediately ran toward him, engulfing him in a humongous hug that had him stumbling back before he caught you. Of course, it was very awkward, for him anyway, but especially with Barbatos just standing there and it took every fiber in your being to pull away and not stick to him like glue. “I missed you.” It was an honest sentence; you did miss him. Actually, you missed everyone, and even if it was Mammon coming to visit, you really wouldn’t have minded at this point. “I… missed you too…” Awkward as ever. You laughed softly, nudging his arm when his cheeks started to become darker than the seating area of the room. “I will leave you two alone, then.” Barbatos bowed, slowly exiting the room. 

Both of you stood there for a moment, staring at each other but keeping silent in fear of Barbatos coming back. “So… what do you think of this room?” Honestly, it wasn’t until now that the so called hardcore Otaku third-born has had a chance to really look at it, but just like you, his jaw dropped in amazement and he immediately ran around looking at everything, “You have this?! And you didn’t invite me sooner?!” “W-Well---!” “Oh my Lord Diavolo, you have the new brain-wrecker3002!! Why didn’t you tell me?!” you tried to explain several more times that you only found out about this room today, but Levi was more excited than a little kid and honestly who are you to deny him these simple pleasures? “If you ask nicely, I’m sure Diavolo would let you take it.” 

A loud gasp erupted from within him, his hands immediately holding onto your shoulders, “You think?!” You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction; he was more excited than a little boy during Christmas and yes, it was cute. “Yes. Maybe. I’m sure he can get another one. Doubt he would miss it. But come on! As much as I love to hear you nerd out, let’s actually play something.” Of course, that was the keyword he looked for; play. You still pondered how you were going to tell Leviathan anything without it being too obvious, or at least in a way that took anyone else a while to figure out. “Levi… Let’s play Mario Kart.” Confusion strung across his face, “what? You have all these amazing games and you want to play Mario Kart?” You nodded, smiling softly as to hide the seriousness of why you would want to play it. In your mind, it made sense. In your mind, it would work out. And in your mind, Leviathan would catch on sooner or later, hopefully at least. “Yes. I want to play Mario Kart, you know? Take a trip down memory lane.” Leviathan frowned but he also knew that he was in no position to fight you. If you were unhappy, he had to take it up with Diavolo and that’s something he doesn’t necessarily want to deal with, “Okay…But we’ll play other things too, right?” You chuckled.

It took you a while to figure out exactly how you wanted to do this. You knew you could turn and mess yourself up in pretty much any way, but you needed it to be discreet. That’s where you were grateful for Levi’s competitiveness and his quick thinking on banana peels. Every time he threw one at you, you barely dodged it, and every once in a while you would hit a few back to back, four back to back to be specific. Instead of just spinning out of control and moving on, though, you somehow managed to pull through with your plan. H. E. L. P. The last letter was the hardest one but after doing the same pattern twice, Levi caught on. No one can say again he’s just a dumb Otaku. He side-eyed you, giving you a raised eyebrow, but all you could really do was discreetly nod and hope he believed you. After that, you continued to mess up a few more times so as to not draw suspicion. “Let’s… change the game. This might be a trip down memory lane for you, but it’s boring to me if you’re so terrible at it and I keep beating you.” 

You pouted, nudging him again, “fine… I had fun though.” Levi chuckled this time, obviously nervous, “I did too… let’s maybe try and play---!” “Leviathan!” A cold shiver ran down your spine and from the looks of it, it ran down Levi’s too. The poor demon didn’t even have time to turn around before Diavolo engulfed him in a hug, “hghn…!!! T-too tight, Lord...Diavolo…” Diavolo let go of him with a laugh, turning to you and reaching out his hand. Of course, you took it so he could pull you up. “Did you have fun?” You could feel Leviathan’s nervousness mingle with your own, but you smiled up at him nonetheless, “Yes! Levi beat me pretty much every game, but I’m just glad we got to hang out.” Levi chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “You tried your best… It’s just hard to beat the best.” You looked at Levi with disbelief before sticking your tongue out at him, a gesture which he returned. “Whatever. Keep telling yourself that. I let you win.” “Hah!” He genuinely laughed at you, and for a moment you debated on taking offense, but he was your only hope so you let it slide.

“Well, I’m glad you two had fun. Please do tell me anytime you two want to do it again. I hate to leave my darling all by herself, and seeing as you two are such good friends, I think you should come around more often.” It seemed too nice. He was being too nice. A facade he put up in front of others, but you knew all too well what lied beneath. “O-Of course! Thank you, Lord Diavolo.” It was awkward after that, with the two only smiling at each other, Diavolo’s grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Barbatos cleared his throat, “My Lord, I will be escorting Leviathan back to his house now.” You quickly let go of Diavolo’s hand to hug Levi one more time, which he returned almost too stiffly. “It was good to see you… “ You mumbled, before letting go and watching him walk off with Barbatos, hoping that he could deliver the message. 

[fandomficsnstuff]

Late - Part 2

Spencer x Reader

(Warnings: Torture, blood, cussing and death, ya’ll have been warned)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had just fallen asleep, you had been crying so much that despite the uncomfortable position, your eyes had gotten heavy and you closed then, that was five, maybe seven, minutes ago? You almost groaned out loud as you heard the heavy door open, raising your head and glaring at the man as he walked around your side to face you, carefully stepping over your previous meal on the floor, grinning like it was something he had expected. You watched him sit down in the chair across from you, picking up the mask and dusting it off carefully like it was made of glass, “most do that when they first see the mask, I’m impressed” he said cheerfully, making you scoff “don’t worry, it wasn’t the mask, just you” you spat back, seeing him freeze up, anger flashing in his eyes before he forced himself to calm down, which didn’t seem to be working all that well, as seconds later he got up, glancing at the table he flipped earlier before going behind you, you tried but you couldn’t see him, but you heard him lay down the mask on something, and then pick up something made of metal and put it down somewhere else, and finally he came back into view, pulling a small portable table, the wheels squeaking as you eyed it with suspicion. It had something on top of it, covered by a piece of cloth, and when he pulled it off your eyes widened, seeing a tray underneath with tools, bloodied ones at that.

You looked back at him and for the first time, you truly couldn’t help the fear that overtook you, you felt your whole body shake out of fear and you couldn’t hide it anymore, you began to fight against your restraints and he laughed at your attempts while you screamed, ripping at the leather bonds until you created sore marks on yourself, but you ignored the pain, you ignored his laughter, you had to get out of here. In your frantic state you noticed something you hadn’t before, a small door on the opposite end of the room, facing you, it was small and hidden with tiles, but if you crouched, if you got free, you could probably find a way out, it was no doubt an escape tunnel of sorts. You did everything you could to focus on that, trying to focus on keeping up with a plan, even as the blade slid along your arm, the cold metal leaving goosebumps as a trail.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Where is she?” Derek asked as he was sitting across from the man who had been driving the taxi, who just shrugged “don’t know man, I drive alotta folk around, gotta be more specific” the man said with another shrug, Spencer watching form behind the two way mirror, anger practically oozing off of him like a bad smell, Hotch and Emily was standing by his side when Penelope burst through the doors, tears in her eyes “I got it! I got it!” She moved closer with her laptop, showing them the screen that held the man’s information, backstory, and all of his past criminal records, and there were a lot of them. Axel Erickson, 38, unmarried, renting a shitty apartment, no real job so the taxi ruse was most likely to get victims or extra money, or both. Spencer were about to move into the interrogation room but Emily and Hotch stopped him “stay her” he ordered, leaving no room for debate as Hotch walked in, joining Derek and putting a picture of you on the table in front of the man, Emily holding Spencer back and saying comforting things that he didn’t even hear.

Hotch leaned closer “Axel, we know you took her, one of our agents saw her get in your car, she even called for christ’s sake!” Hotch yelled, Axel looking a tad more nervous now but he kept denying it, and that’s when Reid snapped, Penelope trying to stop him as he barged into the interrogation room, grabbing Axel by his collar and pushing him against the wall, his arm on Axel’s throat, choking him “WHERE IS SHE?! You have exactly one chance to tell me, five seconds before I shoot you in the gut and rip open your stomach! A man can live up to a month with a gut wound but it’s not a pleasant month so tell me where she is!!” Spencer yelled, getting out his gun and pointing it at the man’s stomach “one” Spencer counted, Axel continued to cry and beg to get Spencer off of him “two” Axel then pleaded with Hotch and Derek to remove Spencer but they just stood there “three” Axel then tried to fight against him but Spencer kept him in place “four” Axel continued begging “five-”

“She’s in an abandoned building downtown! It’s underground! That’s all I know man, I wear! Please I don’t know anything else I swear!” Axel cried, Spencer grabbing his collar again, pointing his gun at his neck “show me” was all he said as he led him out of the interrogation room and towards his own car, Hotch and Derek sharing a shocked look before following, Emily joining them as well as Rossi and JJ, who had been asking around to see if you had gotten home safely, leaving Penelope to call in practically everyone to go with them, from SWAT to the local police.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You couldn’t help the sob that escaped your lips as the man before you put his drill down, fresh blood smeared on it and a hole in your shoulder, bleeding rapidly. You felt cold and tired, your new wound joining the others that littered your body, from knife wounds to cuts to the new wound made from a drill. You flinched as he gently stroked your cheek, as if he tried to soothe you “aw no, don’t be like that, what’s the sad face for? We’re only just beginning” he said in a mocking voice, another sob escaping you as he got out the knife he had used on you countless times already, your whole body flinching as the cold metal touched your thighs, that he hadn’t touched yet. You sobbed once again as he made a small cut on your thigh, barely enough to draw blood, and when he wasn’t satisfied with that he plunged the knife straight through your leg, the tip touching the metal chair under you and you let out a loud scream in pain, leaning over in agony as he laughed “that’s just… sweet music” he said in a disturbing, calm voice, as if he was listening to Beethoven or Mozart.

“Y-You s-s-sick f-fuck” you managed, and it was enough to make him freeze in his track before grabbing your chin roughly and forcing your face up to look at him, which wasn’t hard with how exhausted you were from all the pain. His eyes were burning with rage at your comment, but you managed a smile, making look at you with confusion “y-you’re so f-f-fucking d-dead” you managed, laughing briefly before cringing in pain, but you forced yourself through it to look at him “when h-he finds you… y-y-you’re g-going to p-pay” he looked at you even more confused now and you chuckled “y-you’re even d-dumb enough to n-not know who y-your victims a-are… I’m d-dating an F-FBI agent you i-idiot” you once again managed a chuckle, seeing his shocked face, but it was cut short as he ripped the knife out of your leg, hearing you scream in pain with a smirk “as far as I know, you two broke up” he said tauntingly and you narrowed your eyes at him through the pain “oh yes, the guy who took you? He told me... I’m assuming the guy you left standing in the street was your ‘boyfriend’, well, where is he now, you whore?!” The man was about to plunge the knife into your other thigh when you heard a voice you knew.

“Right here” you turned your head in an attempt to see Spencer but you couldn’t, but you still cried with a smile on your lips, he was here, he was really here. Your joy was cut short as you felt a blade against your throat, your eyes moving up to look at the man that had tortured you for hours, a sick smile on his lips “well, well, well. What do we have here, a Romeo looking for his Juliet? Don’t you already know how that story ends?” he said in a mocking tone, slowly kneeling in front of you, the knife still at your throat “step away from her, now” Spencer’s voice sounded unhinged, like it took everything in him to not shoot the man in front of you both. You felt him release your ankles from their restraints, knife still pressed firmly against your throat as he then moved on to your wrists “why? We’re just talking ‘agent’, besides, you wouldn’t want your little Juliet to get hurt, would you?” he said in a taunting voice, grabbing you by your hair, pulling you up and in front of him, holding you so you faced Spencer with the knife to your throat, your captor’s face hidden behind your head as he laughed “come now, ‘agent’, aren’t the bureau all about teamwork, where is your team now?” he laughed again as he slowly walked backwards with you, that it, until you heard a gun cock and felt his movements stop “right here, you son of a bitch” you exhaled relieved when you heard Derek’s voice, he must have used the escape tunnel you had spent the last few hours trying to figure out a way to get to, Spencer had been distracting you captor while Morgan found the entry and sneaked in, the rest of the team must be waiting somewhere, the thought bringing relief and hope.

“Fair play” your captor murmured and you felt the knife press against your throat and cut a line, it was odd, you barely felt it, like it was just superficial, and when you heard a gunshot ring out, you thought that maybe it was. You moved your hand up to your throat as you felt weak, feeling a warmth streaming from the cut, the pain first now hitting you as you fell to the floor with wide eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks as Spencer ran to you, his hands on your throat to stop the bleeding, tears littered his eyes as well. You tried to gasp for air but you felt like you inhaled water, making you cough, only for your body to try again and repeat, your hands flailing around you for something to hold onto, as if it would ease the pain, but it didn’t.

You began to feel even more cold as Spencer and Derek yelled something, Spencer kept his eyes on you while Derek yelled for someone through a tunnel. It must have been the tunnel he went through, or maybe the door your captor had used led to a hallway? You weren’t quite sure, but you found yourself slowly raising your hand, cupping Spencer’s cheek gently, smearing it with blood, but you didn’t notice, and oddly enough, you couldn’t feel the pain anymore, not really, everything was just numb and cold. You gently smiled up at Spencer, seeing his confused look as he kept crying, keeping pressure on your neck “hey Spence…” your voice was barely audible, but he heard it, he always did.

“Spence… I’m cold” you muttered, trying to look around you but Spencer kept a hold on your neck, forcing you to look at him, instead of seeing the corpse next to you. You felt something being draped over you, seeing Derek having taken a jacket he had on off, and you smiled gently up at him “hey, Derek, what’re you doing here?” you asked in a whisper, seeing Derek frown as well before looking back to the tunnel “WE NEED A MEDIC!!” he shouted loudly and you felt even more cold, you could barely move your legs, a frown on your face as a thought crossed your mind and you looked at Spencer in a daze “I’m cold, where’s my jacket? Did I forget my jacket? We have to go back, Spence it’s my f-favorite jacket…” you slurred, trying to get up but Spencer kept you on the ground “stay with me, (Y/N), please, I need you to stay here with me, please stay with me, don’t leave me” you heard Spencer begging, crying above you, some of his tears lending on your face, and you gently stroked his cheek with your bloody thumb “hey, what’re you talking about? I’ll never leave you” you whispered and it made Spencer cry even more, but he never lost his grip, not even when the medics finally arrived and put you on a gurney, asking Spencer to let go of your throat but he didn’t, not until he was forced to, but he was right behind you all the way outside, the sun blinding you and you cringed, looking around for Spencer, the paramedic asking you to keep still as he was losing his grip on your throat every time you moved your head “no… no where’s… where’s Spencer…? Spence..?” you tried calling out but your words began to slur as they hurried you to the ambulance, your eyes feeling heavy as fresh tears began to roll down your face “no.. no my boyfriend, he was with me… he was going to dinner with me and he said he’d-... he’d meet me there… Spence?” you began to slur your words even more and just as you were about to pass out you felt someone grab your hand tightly in the ambulance, sitting next to you, and when you looked you saw a blood soaked Spencer, a frown forming on your face again “Spence… what happened to you?” you slurred, feeling dizzy.

Spencer looked to one of the paramedics concerned, who then leaned in “she’s in shock, she said something about going to dinner with her boyfriend, her mind is probably trying to block out everything she’s been through” the paramedic explain and Spencer, with tears in his eyes, forced a smile at you “d-don’t worry about it, I’m here now” he whispered and you managed a smile as the ambulance sped off towards the hospital “I was so scared you were gonna be late again…” you slurred and Spencer almost broke down, but he forced himself through it, gently smiling at you “I’m here, I made it” he whispered, leaning over and with his free hand he gently stroked your forehead, which seemed to soothe you somewhat, your face almost blissful “good… I’m cold and tired, Spence… I know it’s early b-but… can we go? Please” you felt your eyelids grow even more heaving, a weird beeping noise in the background, it sounded erratic, you heard something along the lines of ‘we’re losing her’ but you didn’t know who they were talking about, so you forced your eyes open, looking around you in fear, your heart rate spiking “where am I? Spence where am I?” you asked through newfound tears, Spencer quickly shushing you “it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here with you, alright? That’s all that matters” he whispered and you seemed to calm down at that, sighing as you turned your head to him, looking weak and far too fragile for his liking “are we home yet? I’m so tired” you slurred, you and Spencer hadn’t moved in, but you were going to ask him once the two of you had eaten at the restaurant.

“W-We’re a-almost home, baby, almost, just a little while longer…” he whispered and you felt more tears run down your cheeks, but your face was still dazed “I’m so tired Spence…” you slurred before your eyes closed against your will, you heard someone scream and yell and cry, but you didn’t know why, you were just going to sleep, why was he crying? But no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t open your eyes, you couldn’t wake up. Your eyelids were too heavy, you were so cold, until you weren't, suddenly you felt numb, you couldn’t feel the coldness anymore, or the exhaustion, you didn’t know why you were so exhausted, you were waiting outside the restaurant, how does that make one so exhausted? You hoped you were home soon, you had to be, but you don’t remember, all you remember is Spencer crying as you fell asleep.

[insidious-intent]

Tarlos college AU? Maybe Owen is a professor? Thank you!

I’m very sorry for the delay, nonnie. But this took on a life of its own. Please note this is an explicit fic. 

The Subtle Art of Seduction

“Here we goooo! Shots for everyone and a non-alcoholic drink for Marjan!” Paul screamed, bringing over 3 shots and a small drink glass to their table. The bar was packed with returning seniors, a whole bunch of grad students, and even a few sturdy underclassmen. Their usual table had thankfully been empty and the small group of friends had descended as soon as they all returned to campus. 

They had all congregated the first night of returning to campus, happy to be in each other’s company. Paul, Marjan, Mateo, and TK were all in their last year of undergrad, and the summer before had been busy with internships for everyone. 

TK toasted the shots and took the pull, relishing in the burn of alcohol down his throat. He elbowed Marjan, who was happy with the non-alcoholic drink in her hand. 

“So this is it, Marwani. We’re in the penultimate semester,” he started, smirking at his friend. “Are you finally going to make a move?” 

Marjan rolled her eyes, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh, so I’m sure you’ll be fine with Suzie hanging out in Bilal’s room tonight,” TK responded. He knew he was being a little shit, but they were in their final year and he wasn’t going to let this go. He had watched Marjan quietly pine over a classmate for years now, and he wasn’t going to let her watch from a distance as Bilal got seduced by some other girl. 

Marjan’s face said everything about how she felt about TK’s words. “There is no way Bilal is going to go for a lush like Suzie! He’s too worried about his summer internship to be that distracted.” TK grinned. After three years of being classmates and friends, TK knew exactly what buttons to push, and Marjan always fell for it. 

“You have only a few months, maybe six months at the most to tell him how you feel,” TK said. Mateo piped up from the other side of the table, “this is your last chance, babe.” 

Marjan groaned loudly. “Well what about pretty boy over here?” she said, pointing at TK. “He hasn’t gone out with a single person since the end of freshman year.” 

Paul nodded his head so hard, TK wanted to call him a bobble head. “Yeah bro, we haven’t seen you do anything with anyone for two years now!” 

TK groaned dramatically. “Yeah well the dating pool ain’t all that deep here at UT Austin. But we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about our girl here being brave.” 

Mateo and Marjan looked at TK with a glint in their eyes that has spelled trouble since all four of them were grouped for a Psych project in the first semester of freshman year. 

Back then it was all about being as reckless as possible, knowing TK was the son of Professor Owen Strand, and at eighteen that was the level of authority fit for rebellion. 

But then TK’s dad was appointed as the college dean, Alex, his boyfriend of a year broke up with him, and the rebellious phase ended abruptly right after. 

His friends were still staring at him, “what what?” he asked. 

Everyone smiled at him in a way that promised trouble. Marjan was the one who spoke up, “I’ll ask Bilal out if you ask out a hottie tonight.” From the mirroring smiles on Paul and Mateo’s faces, TK knew he was going to be outnumbered here. He rolled his eyes and threw his hands. If this is what got Marjan to finally make a move, then he would happily take one for the team. 

“I know you all think I’m some type of prude now, but you know what Marjan, you’re on,” he said with a smirk of his own. 

Clearly he had the number of every one of his friends, because they all stopped smiling, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“We’re on?” Mateo asked. 

“Yep,” TK responded, making sure to sound the p with an extra obnoxious pop. “I’ll definitely ask out a guy tonight, and then Marjan gets to ovary up and ask Bilal out.” 

“And we pick who you ask!” Paul interjected. TK glared at him, but refused to back down. He was on a mission that night. 

“Fine, you pick who I ask,” he said, with only lightly gritted teeth. He rolled his eyes at Mateo and Paul high-fiving, and smirked at Marjan who was looking only a little frazzled. “What do you say, Marwani?”

TK hadn’t seen Marjan back down from a challenge in three years, so he was gratified to not be proven wrong. “You’re on, pretty boy,” Marjan said, “let’s go find you a hottie!” 

***

TK approached the guy standing at the bar, with his back towards TK. A soft looking brown leather jacket, and sinfully tight black jeans were all TK could see, but he had to hand it to his friends - they didn’t pick wrong. 

“Buy me a pizza?” he said to the stranger with an ass to bounce a quarter off of. The stranger turned and TK almost took a step back. The guy was a certifiable hottie, and suddenly TK was a lot more invested in the bet. 

“Excuse me?” the handsome stranger asked with a little confused smile, showing off perfect cheekbones. 

“I said buy me a pizza, handsome stranger,” TK responded, a little bewildered at the words tumbling out of his mouth. 

The lovely and still handsome stranger raised an eyebrow, “and why should I buy you a pizza?” 

“How else would we get to know each other before the sex?” 

The stranger’s eyes darkened as he took a moment to check TK out from head to toe, and TK felt heat thrumming through him. This was going to be easier than he thought. 

“Or we could skip the pizza and you could take me to your place right now,” he said, knowing he had won this round. 

***

TK barely heard the door slamming behind them, too busy kissing the beautiful stranger while also trying to get his shirt off. The kisses had started out tentative, slow, and awkward, but hadn’t stayed that way too long. By the time they’d reached the guy’s apartment, TK was vibrating with need. He couldn’t stop touching the guy, hands moving up and down the expanse of a strong, broad back. TK felt dizzy with desire, moving to pull at the guy’s pants, even as his own shirt was unbuttoned and thrown away faster than a blink. 

“I’m TK,” he panted between biting kisses, “what’s your name?” 

The guy pulled back and smirked at him. “Carlos. Glad you asked, so you’ll be screaming the right name tonight.”

Fuck the guy, Carlos, and his husky gravelly voice. TK groaned as he felt teeth on his collarbone, closing his eyes as Carlos walked him back towards a giant couch. When Carlos pulled off his own shirt in one smooth move, TK almost saw stars, working to take the rest of his clothes off even faster. The man was built like a brick house - all hard angles and strong muscles. He moved to cover TK with his entire body, kissing - deep, heated kisses - and TK felt like he’s on fire from the inside. He pushed Carlos back for a second, just enough to breathe for a moment and look at Carlos - eyes dark and hungry. 

“Sit back,” TK ordered, and Carlos fumbled to comply, pushing his back onto the couch. 

TK made quick work of crawling up Carlos’ body and peeling off his boxer briefs, kissing the sensitive skin inside the thighs. 

“TK,” Carlos groaned, making TK smile, and he quickly licked at the leaking slit. Carlos shot out a hand behind him to grip the back of the couch, a long moan ripping through him. TK wanted to take his time, he felt a little giddy at the taste, at Carlos’ reaction. But his own cock was so hard he felt dizzy, and he gripped the base of Carlos’ cock tightly, taking as much of it in his mouth as he could. 

Carlos moaned something indistinct as TK continued to move his mouth over his cock, moving his free hand to stroke the soft skin behind his balls. He felt bold, but he wasn’t sure if Carlos would take kindly to his assumptions about opening Carlos up. He decided to take a chance, moving to remove his mouth from Carlos’ cock with an obscene pop and a trail of saliva shining bright. 

“Lube?” he asked, figuring it was the safest way to get an answer. He wasn’t even done with the thought process before a packet of lube was slapped on his palm, and he wasted no time getting his fingers slick. 

“TK, TK, come on,” Carlos chanted, as TK swirled his tongue around the head, easing up so he could press it flat against the sensitive underside of his cock, tracing along the vein. He kept up the torture while pressing his fingers against Carlos’ hole, getting it slick, feeling two of his fingers slide in easily. A low and fervent fuck was the only response he got, as he pulled up to see Carlos gone all glassy eyed, flushed and breathing hard, as TK pulled up and stroked him in rhythm with the press of his fingers inside Carlos. 

“You wanna come for me, handsome?” TK purred, actually purred, bewildered by his own body’s response to Carlos. Carlos just made a choked off little moan and suddenly TK’s hand was full of come. Carlos just moaned and whimpered his way into post-orgasm sensitivity. 

“You’re really good at that,” Carlos slurred a little, pushing his legs apart to give TK’s fingers inside him even more access. 

“Come here,” he asked, pulling at TK’s shoulders until TK chuckled and moved up, sliding up Carlos’ body to kiss him slow and measured. Which turned into a deep groan as he guided his cock into Carlos’ ass. The tight heat of Carlos, the sliding slick sweat between them, miles and miles of responsive body under him, all working to drive him insane. 

“Please, please, please,” Carlos chanted, and TK could feel where he was half-hard already, and TK’s slow steady rhythm faltered. That voice was making him feel frantic. 

“I got you, baby,” TK breathed into a slick collarbone, skin flush. The pace was tortuously slow for him too, on that knife-edge between so-good-it-hurt and hurt-because-it’s-so-good, and the room was almost oppressive in its heat and silence. The only sounds in the room were the whirring of the central air and the wrecked mess of their breathing, arrhythmic and shuddering.

He could feel himself losing it, the smooth glide of his hips going shaky and uncontrolled until he gave into the need, buried himself in Carlos and came. He felt Carlos’ sharp inhale and the clutch of his orgasm in addition to the slick heat buried between them.

He tried to roll them over but they ended up on the plush rug on the floor, and TK felt like he was just going to pass out for the rest of the night right there. But Carlos got up and went somewhere, coming back with a wet and warm towel to wipe him clean. What a gentleman. 

“It’s late,” Carlos whispered, running his hands over TK’s side, tracing his tattoo. “You should stay.”

TK couldn’t find a fault in the logic. 

***

The blaring of the alarm almost made him throw his phone away. TK rolled over in the hands-down most comfortable bed he’d slept in, and snatched his phone before it could go off again. He looked and it seemed to say 7am. Holy fuck. 

He jumped up and ran around the room, grabbing every item of his clothing he could find. He saw Carlos roll over and stare at him with such warm and sleep filled eyes, he almost said fuck it and climbed back into bed. 

“You pulling a runner, handsome?” Carlos asked, voice just as sleepy and warm as the rest of him. TK wanted so badly to not leave.

But the memory of Prof. Blake’s academic requirements blared loudly in his head. She would kill him with extra work if he was late to the first day. 

“I’m so sorry, but I have a class at 8, and my professor is a hard ass,” he said, trying to be as apologetic as possible. 

For some reason, Carlos sat up in bed. “Oh shit, so do I,” he said, jumping up to grab a pair of boxer-briefs. 

He was kind enough to give TK an extra toothbrush but TK still needed to grab coffee, so he just pushed a kiss against Carlos’ lips and took off for campus. 

He had to actually skip coffee so he would make it in time for the class, and his whole body and brain were screaming at him by the time he got in the room. Paul and Marjan were already seated, and Mateo was making his way over. TK walked over and dropped in the chair so gracelessly, he almost tumbled off, only saved by Marjan’s quick hand on his sweatshirt. 

“Walk of shame, Strand,” Marjan said, a smirk firmly on her face. “I’m astounded.”

“All’s fair in war, Marwani. Now pay up,” he said, a smirk of his own aimed at her. Marjan’s smirk dropped, and she glared as TK stared at Bilal walking up to sit in front of their row. Who said TK couldn’t do a good deed, and be dicked six ways to Sunday. The next five minutes were an exercise in sheer delight, watching Marjan steel herself, play with her scarf for a full thirty seconds, and then finally tap Bilal on the shoulder. 

“Hey Marwani,” Bilal turned, with a smile that had turned TK’s stomach upside down back in freshman year. Now he was happy to sit back and watch his best friend work her magic. 

“So hey, I was thinking,” Marjan started, voice oddly high. “Watchu doin on Friday?”

Bilal’s jaw almost dropped. “Are you…asking me out?”

Marjan’s shoulders immediately rose, and TK saw Paul move forward at the same time he did. If they had to beat up a really good looking guy for insulting his best friend, TK was ready to throw down. 

“What if I was?” Marjan said.

Bilal threw his head back and laughed. “I have been trying for three whole years to get the courage to ask you out. But you beat me to that too.” His smile was brighter than the sun, and both TK and Paul slumped back in their chairs. TK was never going to let Marjan forget that giggle that came out of her as a response. He elbowed her, knowing how happy she was, and knowing they were absolutely going to be discussing her date plans. 

Dr. Blake walked in at exactly seven fifty nine am, and the resulting commotion lay an end to the most satisfying morning scene. Dr. Blake walked up to the front of the class, and started the projector, sharing her laptop screen and tacking on her lapel mic. 

“Welcome back seniors,” she started. “All of you should know the drill of this class by now, so I won’t bore you by going over the details again. But there’s one change I want to talk about today.” She moved to stand in front of the class. “You all know Nancy has moved back to New York to take professorship at NYU.” A few boos echoed at the name, and Dr. Blake smiled at that. “Yes yes we hate them yanks. But this means I have a new TA, and he’s going to be running everything with an iron fist.” She motions to a figure sitting in the very corner of the front row, and TK can’t help but feel a strong sense of familiarity staring at that profile. 

The figure stood up to turn and wave at the class. TK felt the blood drain from his entire face, and from the Marjan had clutched his arm in a death like grip, he wasn’t the only one shocked. 

“Say hello to your new TA, Carlos Reyes, everyone,” Dr. Blake said.

TK was fucked. 

[fizzingwizard]

Episode 13! I don’t have all that much to say about it. But there were three things in particular I really liked!

Sorato moments! It may be small (I mean, they’re kids and they’ve known each other for like a day), but no one will be able to say Sora and Yamato didn’t have any development in this season!

Sora Getting Shit Done! She’s as cool as Yamato. Scratch that, she’s cooler than Yamato. She’s honest and compassionate. She’s brave like Taichi, values her friends as much as Yamato, AND she can get along with both of them. Bahahaha.

SO MANY adorable Jou&Gomamon moments this episode. Like seriously. SO MANY.

I’ll just tack some here:

More below!

So our two groups are still separated! Jumping ahead, but next week we’ll see MegaKabuterimon, and that rounds out two episodes for each group. But that still leaves Zudomon’s appearance. Just a hunch, but my guess is we’ll see him the episode after which will be the reunion episode too. If not, I suppose the groups are gonna stay separated longer, but this is my guess.

So, once again, our kids have been in this world for Not Very Long At All. It doesn’t seem like they’ve had to stop and sleep so far, though they’ve eaten a bit. Probably it’s still the same day in digital world time o.o It’s completely plausible that they’ve been sleeping and we’re just not being told about it though. This is a kids show, next week Koushirou could be like “we’ve been walking for a week!” and we’ll just have to roll with it lol. But until that happens, I’m going with it’s been about a day and almost everyone’s easily got two evolutions under their belt. Evolving is much easier in this season - Taichi and Yamato even got a Jogress already - so it’s definitely past time to throw out old concepts of how evolving work. The kids clearly have Crests, but they don’t know what they are, which means that’s a thing we’ll be seeing in the future. In spite of that, they can evolve to higher levels. So, maybe something else is in store for them when the Crests become important. Very interesting.

We are back with the trio who’s got their shit slightly more together. Except for Jou’s stomach. Was really amused by Yamato using binoculars. I assume Sora brought them. I’m so used to Taichi’s telescope, but it only makes sense that each group should have some working gear!

Also par for the course, Yamato looking at what’s ahead while Jou’s being sick and Sora’s in between helping them both :P

They find this thing. The hive of brainwashed mecha soldier bees. The person who wrote this episode has definitely had a bad run in with suzumebachi.

As they try to escape, Jou immediately falls off Birdramon.

Me: “Oh no! Someone go help him!”

Gomamon:

Me: “NO NOT YOU”

Like I know they’re partners... but Gomamon doesn’t even have hands. xD All he can do (and all he does do!) is fall together. They’re partners so it’s not surprising, but still... Wheeeeeee!

Honestly though it is just so adorable to me how useless Jou is and how hard Gomamon tries for him... even though Gomamon has a lot more excuse for being useless. I mean, he’s made for a water habitat.

Gabumon: “Jou’s with Gomamon, so he should be okay...”

-___- You know nothing, Jon Snowmon. You know nothing about how much trouble Jou can get himself in

See!?!?!?!??!?! DOES THIS LOOK LIKE THEY’RE OKAY TO YOU, GABUMON??? EAT YOUR WORDS!!!

This is what happens when you try to too hard to make a bee cute. So overdesigned xP It’s like hitting me on the head saying “I’M CUTE, LOOK AT ME!! I’M CUTE!!!” like chill dude, it’s ok. just chill

I guess it works on Sora though, she’s as concerned for this cutie pie as she is for Jou... maybe more.

We make a quick switch to group number 2 who are finally living up to my expectations for how nuts they are. Koushirou’s connection is turbulent, to use the lingo Tumblr always pisses me off with!

Mimi offers to help. “My grandpa can get you a better one!” She... she tries.

Taichi offers to help too. “Times like this you just gotta whack it!” Koushirou looks appropriately terrorized.

I’m so relieved to know Taichi and Mimi are both still batshit.

Yamato and Sora hatch a plan to save Jou by getting themselves captured too. Honestly the show doesn’t spend enough time on the cool stuff like hatching this plan! It just happens! It def got me thinking how brave and cooperative Sora is. Like, we already know Yamato is cool, and he has more experience in the digital world than the others. But Sora just rolls with it. She’s not freaking out, she’s thinking things through, and she can help strategize. 99 Adventure was like “Girls don’t need to do things like pedal swan boats or take watch at night!” This ones like “Girls can definitely do those things! As long as they are pink when they do them!”

Jou and Gomamon arrive in the hive where they are immediately separated... and Jou is thrown out with the trash. BAHAHAHA. GEEZ this show will not ease up on Jou!!

by the way... Gabumon... ARE YOU EATING YOUR WORDS YET!?!?

Sora and Yamato make it inside and hitch a ride on Garurumon...

... They both jump like this when they need to get off so Garurumon can evolve. With jumping style like that, Sorato is a ship made n heaven.

Fuck everything I said about Gomamon working best in his water habitat, IT WAS ALL A LIE. First swimming through sand, now this. Jou has LITERALLY NO EXCUSE for being as useless as he is anymore

also Wolverfish is back, I am some day going to make one of those old geocities shrine sites just for Wolverfish

They are surrounded on all sides though, so what should we do? “Go down.” Yamato, DID YOU FORGET WE ARE IN THE AIR.

Once again Sora is A-OK with all of this! Jou’s the only one having a normal human reaction to A HOLE OPENING IN THE FLOOR OF AN AIRBORNE VESSEL

Gomamon T____T Jou would be mince meat without you

It turns out that Yamato’s shitty plan wasn’t so shitty after all, because either he and Sora talked about what they’d have to do if the couldn’t stay inside the hive, or Sora is psychic. Or just that good at cleaning up after hot-headed men. Anyway yeah Birdramon to the rescue.

For a hot second there it looked like Yamato was going to be like “We don’t have time to save those Digimon” again. Which, I thought we worked through last time, so I was confused. BUT it turns out he only wanted Sora to know he’s got her number. He’s figured out she’s not the type who can turn her back when someone needs help, even if she’s got her own priorities to think about. Sora’s selfless. Yamato clues into that. AND HE TOTALLY SUPPORTS HER <3

Urrrk can Yamato do anything that isn’t Cool

I just love the way he holds them.

Sora faces off with the hive... who’s blast causes a volcanic eruption or something!

Birdramon fights back!

It’s not very effective!!!

Now as much as this is supposedly a Sora episode... she’s had some cool moments but it doesn’t feel like Her Episode as much as last week felt like Mimi’s ep, or the weeks before felt like they belonged to Taichi and Yamato. So actually, that makes it strike number two for Sora, although this episode is definitely better than episode four. It’s not fair. I’m just glad we got some new stuff for her this time, but the writers seem so determined to make her the “good girl” that they forgot character development needs to involve some stakes. So, in place of that, they just do another montage.

First Sora reflects on how useless Jou is.

Then she reflects on how hot Yamato looks when he’s totally helpless.

Then she thinks about how the two of them remind her of pitiful baby bees.

The result... Garudamon!!! Always my favorite Ultimate evolution.

It’s a laaaaaaaser battle!!!!

Yamato’s like “Holy crap I’ve got to get with this girl”

We then set up the intro for next week’s episode, with Koushirou’s computer starting to work again, though not completely. I want it to not work at ALL so Koushirou can be like “i’m no longer useful to my friends, woe is me!” and his friends can be all “Koushirou you’re my best pal no matter what!” and then he saves the day using his noggin. If it was good enough for Mimi’s grandpa it’s good enough for you.

I’m also amused to learn that in spite of apparently selling computers, Mimi’s grandpa too is an advocate of hitting them to make them work.

Agumon mimicking every adorable thing Taichi does is adorableness overload.

Taichi once again offers to smack the computer, like the Taichi of my childhood. However, he claims he’s joking. He’s a 21st century kid after all.

Agumon tells him hitting the computer will hurt his hand, so he should let Agumon do it instead T___T omg that’s the cutest thing EVER I’d give this episode ten stars for this moment alone

but ignoring adorable Taichi/Agumon and Jou/Gomamon moments, I’ll give this episode a 6.5/10. It was almost there! It really needed more Sora though! You know, the spotlight character of the week??

I just don’t feel her as convincingly as the others... which is in part intentional, I think, because that’s Sora. She doesn’t talk about her own feelings so much, she’s private, but she cares very deeply about those around her. I absolutely am with that, but I think that’s really challenging to write, and it wouldn’t bother me so much if we were getting more development in small ways for all the kids all the time. Instead the primary way is these spotlight episodes. We had them in 99 Adventure too, but there was more dialogue between the kids. Watching this episode, I had a thought like “This reminds me of a formulaic Pokemon episode.” As in, there’s someone to rescue, we rescue them, it has little to no consequence for us on a personal level and next week we won’t even mention it happened. At least this episode, they did mention Neemon’s group, to show how this is a pattern for Sora. I’m gonna cross my fingers that means Sora’s going to come out big in the future, we just gotta believe in her and wait. That being said, I’m not trying to be negative, I am also happy that we got these bits for her at all, and especially that we got it confirmed that Yamato sees through her as much as she sees through him!

Next week’s preview...

Kabuterimon: koushirou, you are helpless without your computer, never forget that!

... x’D not

Totally stoked for a Koushirou episode. I hope it kicks butt. Even if it doesn’t, we still get a good helping of my boy Koushirou. <3

[acciomalfoy]

Oblivious (Eddie Kaspbrak x reader)

"Hi. How are you? It's uh, it's been a while." It had been four weeks, which in hindsight was way too long to be apart from Eddie.

"I'm good. She's getting better, slowly." Your grandmother had been on deaths doorstep a little over a month ago. She had been the glue holding the family together for the past ten years, and the entire extended family had shown up at the hospital. It had been over seven years since some aunts and uncles had seen you, and you failed to remember almost all of their names.

"That's good. Um, I wrote notes for you. In each lesson, since we're in all the same classes and I thought it would help because exams are in, like, two months and you missed a whole month of preparation." Hermione Granger who? Eddie shuffled a small stack of papers over to your desk. The front page was highlighted, underlined and had stars around the title. Typical Eddie.

"Thanks, Eds! God, my mom will freak if I fail my exams." You exclaimed with a beam that Eddie returned.

"Anyway, how have you been? Did you tell her you liked her?" You were referring to Eddie's crush. She had been spoken about, but Eddie had refused to tell anyone what her name was, which sucked. It'd be better to know which girl to be jealous of, instead of having to make wild guesses.

"What? No way! I'll tell her when Richie stops joking about my mom." Eddie decided.

"Eddie! Richie will never stop! Come on, you know I won't tell anyone!" You said, hands clasped together. Eddie laughed.

"Alright. I'll tell her to meet you in the bathrooms after third."

"Yes! God, Eddie, finally! If it's Gretta, I'm warning you, I may cry. You know, out of actual pain for you." Eddie laughed again, and your heart soared.

"No, no. I have better taste than that. Way better taste."

"I'm going to fucking kill Eddie." You muttered. It was five minutes into fourth, and the only person in the bathroom was yourself. The tap was dripping slowly, and you reluctantly turned it off before you went mad.

The mirror had smudges all over it, and you could see your reflection. The usual messy hair, the typical outfit, and the same old face. You frowned. What did Eddie's crush have that you didn't? If he liked a cheerleader, your name would be first on the tryouts list. If he was into some nerd, then books would fill your bedroom while he filled your heart. It was driving you insane not knowing which clique his crush fit into.

"Fucking dead." You muttered as you stalked out of the bathroom. It wasn't about being late for history and receiving an afternoon detention, it was about Eddie being a liar. Of course, you weren't mad at him. You knew that. You were mad, scathing mad at his crush.

"He's fucking dead."

"Where's (Y/n)?" Richie asked. The losers were at the bike shed, glancing around in each direction. There was no sign of their best friend.

"Oh. Shit. She might have a detention." Eddie concluded. Heads spun.

"Why?" Bill asked. He was immensely proud of being able to manage short answers without stuttering.

"I-Uh, I cant say." Eddie shifted uncomfortably.

"You can, and you fucking will." Richie demanded.

"I told," Eddie swallowed.

"I told her that my crush would meet her in the bathrooms after third and before fourth." Eddie explained. Stan rose an eyebrow.

"Is that it? Did she find out who it was?" Beverly asked eagerly.

"Um. She would have seen her, but I don't think she realised that that's my crush." Eddie chewed his bottom lip, a nervous habit he had picked up.

"If she didn't realise.. Is it Gretta or some fuck face?" Richie placed his hands on his hips, and Beverly, Stan and Ben burst out laughing. Bill sniggered, and took a mental photograph. He'd enjoy drawing that later.

"No! Ew! That's what (Y/n) said! It's not. It's someone way better. Basically a queen, no, a goddess compared to Gretta." Eddie looked happy talking about his crush, and Beverly decided that no matter who it was, she would support Eddie. Richie 'the nerd' Tozier, figured it out.

"Holy fuck! That's such a smart way of telling her who you like! God, the second I get a crush on someone I'll do that. But it's also pretty stupid. She'll be mad, Ed's, really mad." Richie clapped Eddie on the back, and he almost fell over.

"Oh!" Stan and Bill exclaimed at the same time. Bill, Eddie, Richie, Stan and (Y/n) had grown up together, and could practically read each other's minds.

"What?" Ben asked, gaze flickering between Richie and Eddie.

"Want to fill us in on your telepathic conversation?" Beverly said in amusement.

"Eddie likes (Y/n), and she would have seen her own reflection in the bathroom." Stan explained. He glanced at Eddie to double check. Eddie nodded miserably.

"She doesn't like me back, but at least she won't really know. Unless she figures it out. Holy shit, what if she figures it out?" Eddie's voice grew higher with every word he squeaked.

"She does li-like you. Like two m-months ago when you f-f-first told us you had a cr-cru-crush, she confessed to m-me. It was kind of p-pit- pitiful, watching her pine o-over someone whose as o-o-oblivious as she is." Bill snickered quietly. Eddie's head snapped upwards.

"What the fuck? Is this some kind of joke?" He looked at everyone in the small circle.

"Ew. She has terrible taste. Better make your move, Eddie, before someone else sweeps her off her feet." Richie pointed out, quite bluntly in Eddie's opinion.

"I can't. She'd never like me as much as I like her." Eddie said miserably. The Losers exchanged a glance. What a delusional fool.

"Kaspbrak! Get your puny little ass over here!" You shouted as you pedalled over to the Losers as fast as you could. Eddie pushed Stan in front of him, who grinned at you.

"Now is not the time to tell me to be a vegetarian, Stan. Eddie, I'm going to kill you! I got my first detention of the whole fucking year thanks to you!" Eddie swallowed.

"She told me she was there?" Eddie looked terrified, and you almost laughed.

"Well, she fucking wasn't." You rifled through your bag and found a wad of gum. You threw it at Eddie as hard as you could. He let out a shriek, and Richie dove for the packet on the ground.

"Wicked! It's still got four pieces! Thanks, (Y/n)!" Richie beamed.

"Oh, also. You're Eddie's crush. Get it, because you would have looked in the mirror and seen yourself. Fuck off Eddie!" Richie squealed when Eddie threw his fanny pack at the bespectacled boy. Your eyes widened comically. Stan and Bill exchanged a glance, while Beverly and Ben exchanged something similar.

"No you're not! Ew!" Eddie shrieked like a bird. Your mouth opened.

"I get you don't like me, Eddie, but that's just fucking rude." You decided. Eddie looked helplessly at Richie.

"It's fine, Ed's. She likes you too. She told me about it in maths." Richie smirked triumphantly at your face.

"Fuck off, jackass. No one was asking for your opinion." You stuck the bird up at Richie, who began chomping on YOUR gum loudly.

"Fuck you too. I just got a couple together, pull my pants down and call me Cupid." Ben snickered, and Stan high fived Richie.

"What? No, you didn't!" Eddie almost shrieked. There's not much that can be done when the pair involved are refusing point blank to believe the other likes them.

"Well, I have to go. Eddie, you're still on my hit list. Richie, you better watch your fucking back. Everyone else, have a nice night." You shouted as you pedalled away from the quarry where you had found the losers. Time to face facts. Edward Kaspbrak does not like you in any way other than a friend. Get it through your thick head.

"Eddie! The fuck was that?" Richie groaned. Eddie looked confused.

"What was what? We're just two friends, and I've hopelessly fallen for someone who doesn't like me back and that's totally cool." Even Stan could tell Eddie was going to cry.

"She does fucking like you." Stan shouted in annoyance.

"What?" Eddie whispered. Richie wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"She does like you, dip shit! Why would we lie about that? Go get your act together because I push you into the fucking water." Stan ran a hand through his hair tiredly. Eddie gulped.

"I'll do something tomorrow, I swear I will."

[inactiive-shit]

Electricity

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Masterlist

Warnings: references to past issues, intrusive thoughts, Remus-normal stuff

Pairings: Platonic Intruality, background romantic Royality

Words: 2,224

Summary: Remus is like the clock that still has cogs. He does work. It is just a different kind of working than others are used to. Sometimes, he must be wound, sometimes his gears malfunction and he must be reset. Sometimes people ignore his face for the ones printed in pretty, glowing numbers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remus is vibrating.

That’s not some weird metaphor for sex, he’s not alluding to anything that isn’t exactly what he means.

What he means is: his body is running about a million gigawatts through every single atom. How else would you explain the flailing arms, bouncing legs, loud screeching noise that is coming out of his mouth, or the white streak in his hair that he swears wasn’t there yesterday? No, there is no other explanation. Remus is being electrocuted enough to kill an elephant ten times over and he still has the unfortunate luck to not only be living through it but aware of it as well.

Which, really, depending on which Gods he’s currently worshipping, is deserved. Zeus would probably smite him, given half a chance. But that isn’t Remus’s problem until it actually happens, and this isn’t that.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. This was one thousand - I’ll raise you two - I’ll raise you three thousand percent electricity made and controlled by Remus’s own brain because sometimes even his body is against him. He can’t always control the bullshit that comes out of his mouth, and sometimes he feels disconnected from his arms when they flail around and accidentally land a gnarly black eye, and do you really think he would keep bouncing a hole through the floor with his leg if he had the choice to just stop for a minute?

But he doesn’t, because things often don’t work out for Remus. It’s just what he’s come to expect. Stupid because he can’t do easy things, nonsensical because he can do hard ones. Confusing because he reads with music on, lying because he can hear your watch ticking from across the room and cannot do simple math with a distraction like that. Uncaring being so impulsive, wrong for trying to be considerate. Always, always, Remus is never enough.

Remus is like the clock that still has cogs. He does work. It is just a different kind of working than others are used to. Sometimes, he must be wound, sometimes his gears malfunction and he must be reset. Sometimes people ignore his face for the ones printed in pretty, glowing numbers.

He doesn’t know who the problem really belongs to, whether he is running too fast for everyone else’s day, so that he has twenty-eight hours for their twenty-four, or if they simply don’t know how to read the time on an analog clock, with it’s spinning hands and whirring parts. He figures there’s not much to figure out about all that, not really. At the end of the day, he is the one out-numbered, he is the one impulsive, he is the one with oxymorons that run like code through his system that works for him and no one else.

Remus is not the problem, he is their problem.

But right now, more specifically, he is Patton’s problem. Roman had left him alone in his house, assuring him that he’d be back in half an hour. Due to some crappy traffic, crashes, making a few other stops, and having his other friends require his help, Remus was still sitting - bouncing off the walls in his house alone when Roman’s fiance Patton got back.

In the twenty minutes proceeding, it’s all been downhill.

“Remus, please stop that,” Patton says, mouth twisted into a politely downturned smile most likely because it’s not the first time he’s said it. This is also not the first thing Remus has done that made Patton ask him to please stop. It doesn’t feel like as much of a win as it usually does with Patton’s genuine if nervous smile when he’d first seen Remus today.

Remus launches the bouncy ball at the wall again, snatching it out of the air before it can shoot away to break one of their overly expensive vases. He grins at Patton, lips pulling a little too wide, and does it one more time, then pockets the ball.

“So so so,” Remus sings, flipping himself upside down on the couch and staring at Patton. “What’s up with you, A-Pat-thy? Get it? Like apathy but-”

“But with my name, yeah,” Patton says. There’s almost a smile on his face, which is not the kind of reaction Remus’s nicknames usually get but he’s not objecting. “Wait here,” Patton says and leaves the living room. Remus takes the ball out of his pocket and puts it in his mouth instead. There’s not much reason to it, just rough and round and in mouth. It has no taste but it feels like stretchy sand, which Remus will make the second he gets the supplies he needs.

“Let me ask you,” Patton says, returning with one hand held behind his back, “how fondue you find puns?” He presents Remus with fondue-covered bread. Remus jumps off the couch, clapping his hands.

“Oh, punderful!” he exclaims, accepting the bread for the olive branch it is. Remus may be a million things that other people have accused him of, but he’s never been dense - as much as Roman would have liked him to notice less. He knows a peace offering when he sees one.

“That’s just too cheesy!” Patton says, really laughing.

“You better be bread-y because there’s more where that came from,” Remus says, pointing at Patton with his bread. He cackles.

“Well, well, well, you better just Skittle on out of here, because puns are my business and you are about to go bake-rupt,” Patton says. He makes finger guns at Remus and Remus collapses back onto the couch, clutching his wounds gravely.

“Oh no, the Sheriff of Punnery has yeasted me again.” Patton wrinkles his nose. “On bested?” Remus asks. He refrains from saying his buns were just too powerful because that can carry connotations and this is his brother’s fiance; he doesn’t want to make things too weird when he actually kind of does want Patton to not-hate him.

“It’s passable,” Patton says. “But I think I out-punned you this round.” They both laugh at the last, unexpected pun of their duel, and Remus has to concede defeat here. He nods acceptingly.

“I must agree. My brother has picked a worthy adversary.” Remus’s leg starts bouncing again now that he’s sitting down, and the electricity is coming back full force so that the air around his skin is crackling with energy he can’t touch. It’s arcing through his veins like molten rocks, leaving behind a desire to jump and scream and move, but his leg bounces and he picks at his nails and chews his lips and tries not to be any more obnoxious than he has to be.

“I have some spaghetti I was going to heat up for dinner,” Patton says. “It’s nothing special, and if I’d known you were coming I would have made something better, but we can split it.”

“That sounds pasta-tively delicious,” Remus says. “I can’t remember the last time I had spaghetti.” Patton laughs and goes back to the kitchen - which, from Remus’s limited understanding of their life, is where Patton lives. He can’t say for sure, but he’s pretty sure Patton is some kind of human-sized brownie that enjoys cooking. Is it technically bestiality that Roman is going to marry him?

Remus is still musing over Patton’s perilous status as human and rubbing the carpet bare with the ball of his foot when Patton returns with two plates of spaghetti. He sits on the couch next to Remus, which is strange. Not many people sit next to Remus if they can help it. He doesn’t say anything though. As much as he’d like to make a crude innuendo or pun (as much as they’re clawing up his throat to be voiced), he will not mess this up. They’ve only just decided to be brothers again, and he won’t fuck up like last time.

“Do you like it?” Patton asks, jolting Remus. He nods hurriedly.

“It tastes better than any gourmet rat I’ve ever had,” he says, shoving another handful in his mouth. Patton’s face twists up again, but Remus can’t and won’t just not talk. “You know, there are a lot less rats in dumpsters than you’d expect to find. And there’s a lot of stuff that’s totally functional that people just throw away. It’s crazy. The world would quit working without trashmen. They can make or break an entire neighborhood. Once, when Roman and I were kids, there was a huge storm on garbage night, ended up with trash all up and down the streets. I don’t know who cleaned it up, but it wasn’t us.” Remus keeps talking until he’s forced to stop to breathe at which point Patton interjects.

“I noticed that you move around a lot.” Remus immediately stops all movement before it picks back up and the intensity increases. “Which is fine,” Patton continues hurriedly, “but I was just wondering if you had heard of something called pressure stimming? It helps me when I start to get restless. I just thought of it because fidgeting that much makes me tired.”

“I have never not ever heard of such a thing,” Remus says, speaking quickly. He flutters a hand through the air and it looks kind of like a drunk hummingbird. Wouldn’t that be an interesting sight? Remus adds it to his to-do list. “What does it entail?”

“You just apply pressure to yourself, like sitting on your legs or something. Or you can do it with another person on a larger scale.”

Remus doesn’t say doing it, huh? How forward of you despite that being the loudest thought in his head for approximately five seconds. “You mean punching people.” Remus nods wisely. Punching is a good way to calm down.

“No!” Patton cries. “Nothing violent! Like cuddling.”

“Yeah,” Remus says slowly, “I have no idea what you mean.” He lifts a shoulder nonchalantly and shoves another handful of spaghetti into his mouth. But then his plate is lifted out of his lap and he looks up into Patton’s eyes, much closer now than he had been a few seconds ago.

“What’re you doing?” Remus whines, watching his plate leave him with all the regret he can summon.

“Can we cuddle?” Patton asks. “Like, platonically?”

“Uhm, sure?” Remus says. Patton pushes him so that he’s laying down flat on the couch. Remus turns his head to look at the wall and wonders what on earth his brother’s fiance is about to do. If something goes bad here, if Patton does something Remus didn’t ask for, Roman will still believe Patton over him.

Remus can’t lose his brother again. Not so soon after getting him back.

“What are you,” Remus starts and begins to sit up, but then Patton is flopping carefully on top of him. Remus’s back is pressed firmly into the couch. Patton makes a comforting weight on his chest that almost lets him drown out the stupid voice in his head yelling chew his hair and pull the threads so his shirt comes undone and he’s in eye-poking range.

“Take a deep breath,” Patton says. Remus does as he’s told without thinking about it first - not always a good thing to do - and immediately feels like he’s settled exactly where he’s supposed to be, with the couch firm under him and Patton solid above. He’s content.

He hasn’t felt like that in a long, long time.

“Do you like it?” Patton asks.

“Yeah,” Remus says. He reaches up hesitantly to rub his eyes, almost afraid that if he moves this apparition will evaporate (it wouldn’t be the first time.) “It’s...nice.”

“I’m glad,” Patton says. He pauses for a moment and Remus wonders what thing he’s not saying, what Remus is doing that is wrong and bad and loathed-

“You’re not fidgeting as much,” he says quietly, which is definitely not what Remus had been expecting. “Do you feel calmer?”

“I-uh.” Remus chokes and he flutters a hand in the air before trapping it at his side. He’s surprised to realize that he doesn’t really feel that electricity burning through his synapses, telling him to pick his hand back up and fling it around like a badminton racquet when the shuttlecock has gone out of range. How strange.

Remus’s eyes flutter shut before he can stop it and he sighs heavily, giving himself fully over to the comfort of the moment. “Yeah. I feel calmer.” His fingers trace patterns against his pants and his leg shifts. Patton moves slightly and Remus holds his breath, hoping that he hasn’t done anything to make Patton mad at him, but he only adjusts himself to Remus’s new position and stays where he is.

Patton hums on top of him, and while the otherwise silent house is a bit too much for Remus, this noise isn’t entirely unpleasant. He finds himself slipping away, feeling so tired and okay and really, actually safe here that he shuts off before he can stop it. His last solid thought is wondering if Patton is like a lightning rod, attracting the electricity out of Remus so that Remus can finally relax. His brother really did fall in love with someone good. Despite everything, Remus is glad that he’ll have that.

He falls asleep without electricity snapping against his skin. It is a singularly amazing experience.

[analyzingadventure]

Oh boy have I not watched Psi for a long time, oh man have I missed out on Some Stuff (I’ve only heard the names of like three Digimon mentioned but oh man did those names alone come with Some Package)

Let’s watch episodes 25-31 then and catch up!

So just to recap, last time Agumon evolved to Mugendramon, fucked some shit up because Taichi totally 100% legit died, temporary evolved to WarGreymon I think (I can’t remember man lmao) and beat the shit outta DoneDevimon

25! Dive to the Next Ocean!

Uhhh who the fuck yeeted ElDoradimon into the sky

This is so bad

They should die so hard

OHHH CLOUD CONTINENT IS IN THE SKYYY YESSS I LOVE THAT

Have I mentioned how much I love seeing the kids interact with their non-partner Digimon (and vice versa)? Because I do, I love this a lot (even if it ain’t much)

Ohhh Mugendramon was so sexy... I wanna rewatch episode 24 but I really need to catch up on this first

ElDoradimon’s gonna die from that fall, right? His joints are gonna get pulverized

Zurumon! :D I love these lemon jelly goops

HIKARI!!!!!! Baby!!

I wish Taichi and co would be like, trying to even think about how they’re gonna survive the fall- like I know Leomon saved them but they couldn’t like plan to just Get Saved, IDK it’s kinda off-putting how they’re so calm

Leomon to the rescue tho! Finally!

Patamon is so chumby, v good

Holy shit Leomon punches HARD, a single punch just straightened out ElDoradimon in one go, holy fuck

Finally they’re worried about dying from the fall

What happened to the Agu and Gabu being too exhausted to fight (I’m sorry this is just a massive pet peeve for me, ‘esp cause there’s like no reprecussions for the Digimon for pushing themselves here)

(Like it’d be one thing if they managed to evolve out of desperation but this ended up being like bad for them and force them to take longer rests later or IDK kill them, but when you’re just like “I’m too tired to fight- oh wait my friend is slightly in more danger now than before, I guess I can fight again”)

(This is an issue with most MotW shows and even some shounen series (I’m looking at you Bleach) so it’s not unique to Psi, p sure Adventure had this issue to some degree too, but still man, it’s a massive pet peeve and bothers me so much)

26! Break through the sea monster barricade!

God I love that the Cloud Continent is actually in the sky

Quality content (slightly cursed maybe)

Seadramon! Honestly I really love Seadramon?? Like it’s such a simple, minimalistic design but... IDK man I love Seadramon, it’s such a cool Digimon

OH SHIT IT EVOLVED! :O

I���m sorry I am just so not interested in the real world crisis (in the show), it’s... I’m sorry it’s so Mundane and I’m here for the Fantastical

WARUSEADRAMON! THE SLIGHTLY MORE GOTH SEADRAMON!! YEAAHHHHH

God I wish Psi just had perma-evolution, so many of my issues would be solved with perma-evolution

Aweeee yeah, MegaSeadramon’s here too, now we got both of them, yeeeeee

I love how Hikari is just quietly judging the other kids

Y’all okay with talking about Taichi being in a different world right in front of Hikari? I mean She Knows Things and they all just got taken to back to that world but still like, should you try to be more inconspicuous maybe

Oh my god how many times have they used that clip of Falcomon throwing bombs in this episode- four? That’s a lot yo

Taichi’s gonna get vored again, press F for him

The water is so deep how is Zudomon standing- oh I need to stop asking these things

HIKARIIIIII SHE’S HEEEREEE YEEEEEE

27! To the New Continent!

"Hikari, who called you?” “I don’t know :)” Honey that is so ominous I love you

AGUMON COMFORTING HIKARI AAAAAA I LOVE THAAAT

YESSSSS I LOVE THIS

This image has heavy Digimon Kaiser energy in it

I love how Psi!Jyou is like a try-hard in trying to help (while OG!Jyou was always struggling with figuring out what the right thing to do was etc)

Is... is the enemy a Tortamon? Oh yeah it’s Tortamons

OH WOW THERE’S A LOT OF THEM

OH SHIT IT’S AN GROUNDDRAMON! OH GOD THIS IS GRUESOME

Ikkakumon’s gonna get vored, F

You know I never thought Grounddramon would be so chomby based on the Bandai art but I guess Groundramon’s a real chomper

“Everyone, give Angewomon your power!”

GIGA DESTROYER AAAAAAAAAA

OH IT’S THE BASTARD!! DARK KNIGHTMON!!! THE SEXY BASTARD!! The one I’ve heard an interesting theory about... But I ain’t saying anything fornow

PATAMON EVOLVES??? (On command which is kinda bs)

ANGEMOOOOOON YEAAAAAHHHHHH

NEW ENDING TOO, YAY

Ohhh this ending has such nice, soft but jolly energy c: Also yay Tailmon

28! The Children’s Fight for Survival!

BTW Patamon with angel wings was a lowkey hilarious visual, 10/10 would laugh again

Still don’t like how we just got Angemon on demand like that

Oh yeah, out-of-context I heard a theory that DarkKnightmon is Tailmon and hearing Dark Knightmon’s voice, yeah I can see that (not to mention their facination with Hikari)

Oh man those are some Big Wings

Whu happen, did the kids get yeeted back to the Human World?? Oh no they’re still here

I bet Angemon’s dead again lmao

LMFAO JYOU FINALLY GETS TO CATCH A BREAK--

NANIMON NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Oh Patamon’s okay- REALLY TIRED (thank you Psi) but okay

I NEVER DISLIKED NANIMON UNTIL THIS VERY MOMENT

I AM SO UNCOMFORTABLE

PLEASE GO AT LEAST 500 METERS FURTHER AWAY FROM JYOU, PLEASE

Hikari being worried for MetalGreymon ;__;

Aweee yeah HIkari’s special Evolution Powers are still here! GET ‘IM WARGREYMON!!

Whoop Hikari got spirited away, F (she’ll be fine, SkullKnightmon ain’t gonna do shit to her, I’m sure)

Hikari volunteered to go... ;_;

29! Escape the Burning Jungle!

THERE’S MORE OF THEM

I mean at least they’re all just chillin’ and enjoying the bath instead of just staring at Jyou. I’ll considder that an improvement

YEAHHHH MEGADRAMONS!!

Ooooo a single lil Lopmon, I wonder if this will be an important character later

I like Woodmon, Woodmon are cool and chill

YEAH, DEFEND THE SMALL AND INNOCENT!

WOODMON NOOOOOOO ;A;

NOOOOOO A BUDMON DIED!!! NOT THE BABIES!!!

What do you mean MetalGreymon hurt when the tiny Allomon bit him ON HIS METAL ARM

I- I need to stay quiet or else I’m gonna end up with too many questions. I mean I already have too many but the less I question it the better

Woodmon, Budmon, I love your energy, please aim for Tankdramon’s eye, you could blind that fucker with ease

PARROTMON?!

30! WARGREYMON AAAAAAA

Man I have been quiet through this entire episode so far lmao

ANYWAY CROSSMON! HELL YEAH have we seen Crossmon animated before?

GIGA DESTROYER AAAAAAAAAAA anyways I think this is the first tme we’re seeing Crossmon animated (unless my memory is garbage, which it might just be)

Aaaand Taichi is dead

OH, HIS CREST IS THERE

WHAT’S THIS

WHAT’S THIS

Agumon....... I love you..........

Man this animator is making Crossmon look vaguely too humanoid for my taste.... And MetalGreymon’s super fucking jacked yo

NEW SONG YEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHH

OH THAT’S SOME SEXY SEXY ANIMATION

OH WARGREYMON’S HUUUGE BRO

HOLY FUCK GAIA FORCE ANNIHILATED ALL OF THEM (but didn’t cause any environmental damage? Handy!)

Lopmon’s totally like Cherubimon or something, right? Reborn Cherubimon, right?

31. MILLENNIUMON

HERE IT IS, THE HEAVY PACKAGE I MENTIONED, THE EPISODE TITLE THAT MADE PEOPLE LOSE THEIR MINDS WHEN IT GOT ANNOUNCED

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING PSIIIII where the fuck are you going yoooooo

God WarGreymon’s so fucking big holy shit

OH YEAH LOPMON’S TOTALLY LIKE CHERUBIMON OR SOMETHING (I mean it’s not a plottwist by anymeans lmao)

LMAO Skull Knightmon looked away when Hikari noticed them looking at her lmao tsundere ass fucker

Wait the temple was also on Cloud Continent??? Like that whole area was still a part of Cloud Continent?????????? The geography of this world confuses me yo

BAKEMON!!! THERE’S BAKEMON!!! I LOVE BAKEMON SO MUCH!!! GIMME THE GHOSTIES!!!

NOOO MILLE WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY BAKEMON BABIES!! FUCK YOU LEAVE MY GHOST BUDDIES ALONE

YESSSS CHERUBIMON

OH IT WAS MILLE WHO STARTED THIS ENTIRE FUCKING MESS IN THE FIRST PLACE, HUH

WAIT FUCK MILLE IS BEHIND THE ENTIRE BS IN PSI

...AGUMON CAN EVOLVE TO MUGENDRAMON, WHO IS LIKE, KEY COMPONENT #1 TO MILLE

OH GOD WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

AGUMON EVOLVING TO MUGENDRAMON WASN’T JUST A CUTE REFERENCE TO THE DARK MASTERS, IS THERE GONNA BE THING WHERE AGUMON IS USED TO RECREATE MILLENIUMON??? (And they have to get Agumon Out Of There like they had to extract Tailmon (and Meicoomon until they gave up) out of Ordinemon in tri.???)

ANGEWOMON!!! THERE SHE IS!!

PSI SAYS OFANIMON RIGHTS

Oooo we’re on Eternal/Mugen Continent... Oooo :oc

I like how Sora is the Dedicated Character who will be there when we get like Backstory lmao

METALFANTOMON?! :O YEEAAAHHHH (Ngl when I saw the pink scythe for a moment I was hoping for Jokermon.......)

Oh wow that’s a lot of MetalFantomons

Man Kabuterimon sure is flying quietly (I mean adding the flying sound effect probbaly wouldn’t add much here but... It’s so quiet)

OH SHIT WE’RE GOING TO ULTIMATE ALREADY

I am gonna say, because Psi is constantly moving, like there’s constantly an oncoming threat and the characters never get to take a fucking break (that’s longer than 5 minutes), it just... Because there’s no contrast between danger and peace, it makes the non-stop danger feel far less dangerous imo

DOGGO DIGIMON!!

KOMONDOMON!!

OH SKULL KNIGHTMON HAS MILLE

OH FUCK DUDE

There is one more episode out but sadly I can’t watch it yet because region lock. I do know there’s an interesting, familiar face in there tho and I’m excited for that!

I... I... I can’t believe he actually said that...

“They’re cool pants!” KOUSHIROU LMAO

Anyways, episode preview!

Aaaand nothing of value was seen there. I mean I do know what Patamon probably evolves into because I do follow the Digimon Twitter so like, I saw the relevant art they shared but ye

Anyways  a lot of these episodes were dull as usual, I didn’t feel like I missed out on much tbh aside from the sexy animation and the lore

This really drives it home to me how not having a villian of somekind just constantly present and active really makes a story so much more flat for me... Like I ain’t gonna argue Devimon or MetalSeadramon were interesting villians, but even just seeing them planning their next moves outloud and talking to their minions drove home what kind of people they were, and they weren’t even the most Packed-With-Personality villians in Adventure.    And while SkullKnightmon is there... they’re just kinda standing around. I don’t know much about them really and it makes me sad

(Look I’m sorry I’m a filthy villian-stan and not having interesting villians to stan makes me sad)

Anyways, as always, I am definitely looking forward to whatever the fuck Psi is planning on doing because 1. Holy Shit It’s Milleniummon and 2. Holy fuck we got WarGreymon and it’s only episode 31, what the fuck are they planning on doing with the rest of the series and indeed 3. Patamon evolves into what

[dontgotothenetherworld]

i myself am cruel and unusual

one day i thought up the line, “lyds what is it you say? 'because i myself am cruel and unusual'?" and this story really blossomed around that one idea. this was really fun to write, and i went a bit outside my usual writing style, so i hope y’all enjoy this!

beetleb*bes, don’t touch this.

2271 words

cw: mention of murder

lydia lounged on the sofa, leafing through her novel, a gothic spanish mystery that she found behind a dusty stack at her local book store. it was quiet, with charles at work, barbara, delia, and adam out shopping, and beetlejuice attending to business in the netherworld, lydia had the house all to herself.

lydia wasn’t used to the silence. it disturbed her. between the off-putting difference in her normal surroundings, and reading about people being conveniently murdered, lydia was on edge. her shoulders were tensed. every few sentences, she’d glance around, searching for something else out of the norm.

she’d learned from the last time she was home alone. beetlejuice had said he was going to be out, but he hid. he played the long game, and after hours of blending into the background, he scared her, and he scared her good. 

rather proud, lydia had gloated that she couldn’t be scared, and the afternoon was a chip to her ego that she’d rather forget.

lydia enjoyed reading, but often found it hard to focus, so she was cherishing this day. even though a little voice in the back of her mind telling her, “do your chemistry homework!”, she kept on.

a low popping sound made its way to her ears. lydia looked up to see the familiar pin striped suit.

”that was horrible. did you even try?” lydia closed her book, keeping her place with her index finger.

”try what?” beetlejuice had a distant look in his eyes.

”to scare me. duh.” lydia replied.

”i wasn’t trying to scare ya, lyds. anyway, if i wanted to, i definitely could.” beetlejuice said quickly. “by the way, what’s that thing that you usually say?”

”what thing?”

”y’know, the whole, uh, “because i myself am cruel and unusual” thing.”

lydia stared at him blankly. “this is a joke, right?”

”no, is it or is it not what you say, come on lyds i need an answer quick.”

”i say “because i, myself am strange and unusual.”” lydia said, her face in an expression of annoyance.

”thanks lyds! you’re the best!” another pop, and beetlejuice was gone.

lydia puzzled over why the ghost would need to know her catchphrase that she didn’t even say very often, before resolving in light giggles.

”cruel and unusual…” lydia muttered to herself before returning to her book.

now safely assured that beetlejuice wasn’t going to try to scare her, lydia sunk back into the cushions, and lost herself in the book. she kept reading, turning each page with vigor, desperate to see how the story ended. what did it all mean? how did all these little clues fit together?

lydia wasn’t able to keep track of all the hints toward the mystery, so she was solely relying on the pages to figure it out for her. 

her eyes widened as-

”lydia! we’re home!” delia called from the front door.

lydia shushed her as her eyes skipped over the words. 

”we got c-” delia continued, confused, before lydia shushed her again. she had to read as fast as physically possible.

lydia had to put her book down. she wasn’t yet finished, but she figured it out.

”as i was saying, we got cookies from that cute new place next to the bank. spoiler alert, i already tried one, and they’re delicious!”

lydia fake scoffed, “spoilers.” she said playfully.

adam peaked out from behind a wall, “where you referencing..” lydia nodded. “yes!” adam pumped his fist in the air.

delia asked, “what were you referencing?”

”i doubt you know it.”

”c’mon, tell me.”

lydia sighed, “doctor who.”

”who?”

”doctor who. more specifically, river song.”

”you’re just saying random words in a random order, you can’t do that just to confuse me! i’m onto you!” delia shouted as lydia, with book in hand, made her way up the stairs and to her room.

”i’m not trying to confuse you, delia! it’s a real thing!” lydia shouted back, before closing her door. she propped her pillow up against her headboard, and slipped her soundproof headphones over her ears, searching for that same serenity she had while reading earlier.

i didn’t quite work, she was still able to hear a bit of a commotion going on downstairs, but it was fine. she only had a few pages of resolution left anyway.

five minutes later, lydia hopped back down the stairs and into the kitchen, with one side of her headphones off her ear. “so,” she started, “i was told we have cookies.”

earlier and a week later to that day, lydia was practically buzzing. her birthday had been that previous wednesday, and she had only asked for one thing; to get her hair done.

now, in the hair salon, accompanied by delia and a ghostly adam, it was about to happen. her hair was presently a little longer than shoulder length and an inky black, with her natural brown roots showing slightly. lydia explained to the hairdresser how she wanted it; a blonde bob.

the trio was there nearly all day. which was a good thing, because charles, barbara, and beetlejuice were working away back home. lydia had claimed that she didn’t want a birthday party, but her family suspected it was because she didn’t want to have to invite any of her school friends. so, they were throwing a family-only party. a surprise party, decked out with as many black or purple decorations as they could buy, with quite a few handmade ones as well.

beetlejuice and charles were in charge of all the decorations, so to say the overall effect was eclectic would be an understatement.

barbara, who had recently discovered her passion for baking, was baking a cake. the batter was mostly chocolate, but there was a second, vanilla, batter throughout the cake, in an attempted spider web kind of look. it didn’t really translate until barbara explained it.

beetlejuice kept crossing through the kitchen to sneak some plum colored icing.

”have you put lipstick on?” asked charles to beetlejuice.

”no, why? do you think i should?” said beetlejuice. when he opened his mouth, charles could see his purple stained teeth and tounge.

deciding to ignore this, charles said, “oh, nevermind.” and went back to draping streamers, mentally calculating how long all of it would take to clean up.

the group of party planners met lydia and her entourage on the steps in front of the house. they all commented flattery as lydia showed off her new look.

”okay, now close your eyes.” said barbara.

lydia was confused, but obliged. barbara held her hand, and guided her through the door and into the home.

once safely inside, she dropped her hand, and ran to the kitchen. “don’t open your eyes yet!” she shouted as adam lit the last candle on top. barbara picked up the cake, and the couple walked back to the living room.

”you can open them know.” said charles.

lydia opened her eyes to see halloween in december. there were fake cobwebs and fake spiders everywhere. (at least lydia hoped they were fake. truth be told, the real things freaked her out a bit.) 

”thank you! thank you guy so much!” tears were fighting to break away from her eyes. lydia gave everyone a big hug, except for barbara, who was still holding the cake. when she turned to the ghost, everyone began singing happy birthday, and lydia finally started crying full on tears.

she blew out the candles, all sixteen of them, in one breath.

”okay so important question; cake or presents first?” asked beetlejuice, who not so secretly hope cake was first.

”presents?” asked lydia, turning around. she finally spotted a small pile sitting where she normally resided on the sofa. “well, i have to get to those first.” lydia walked over to them.

”i’m just going to put this down in the kitchen, i’ll be right back.” said barbara.

when barbara returned, lydia gave her the hug that she owed her, before sitting down to inspect the presents.

”which one should i open first…” there were four relatively small packages. charles’ gift to her being the trip to the salon, of course.

”you should save the best for last, so not mine.” said beetlejuice.

lydia chuckeld, and started on her gift from delia. a black crystal necklace.

”you probably don’t want to know what it does, but i thought i would fit with your whole,” delia gestured with her hands. “vibe.”

”you got it just right.” lydia grinned. “you’ll have to rip it from my cold, dead body in order to get me to stop wearing it.” she said, as she fastened it around her neck.

delia tried to ignore the gruesome comment, but everyone could tell it bugged her.

”i hope you like it!” adam said as lydia began to rip open the gift he had gotten her. 

she opened the cardboard box to find a lilac mug, with a ceramic cat at the bottom, and a seemingly infinite number of different teas.

lydia held up the mug and exclaimed, “just like your dog one! now we can be tea buddies!”

”only if you finally try my special earl grey.” adam pointed to a tea at the top of the pile.

”it’ll be a struggle, but i’ll get through it for you.” lydia joked.

moving on to barbara’s gift, and with beetlejuice getting a little impatient (maybe this whole “save the best for last” thing wasn’t really a good idea for this impatient demon), lydia got to the gift quickly. she held up the dark material. “a leather jacket!” lydia immediately went to put it on.

”it’s faux leather, of course. and it’s kind of boring right now, i know that, so i fully expect you to do your whole punk-y diy thing to it.” said barbara.

the jacket didn’t quite fit. it was a little large, but it didn’t entirely go over her hands. it was exactly how she wanted it. “thank you, so much, barbara! i couldn’t of picked it out better myself.”

barbara smiled.

”okay! best for last! open mine now, lyds!” beetlejuice shoved his, hand-wrapped, package into her hands. “read the card first!” he said as lydia inspected the questionable wrapping.

she carefully opened the bright yellow envelope. inside was a piece of light gray construction paper, folded in half to make a card. on the front was a crayon drawing of herself and beetlejuice, high-fiving. the two had sunglasses on, and lydia was saying, “because i myself am cool and unusual.” in beetlejuice’s sloppy handwriting. inside, was a message that read, “love u lots lyds happy sweet 16 & i promise i wont try to marry you again xoxo beeblebouse”

”beej, thank you s-”

”you haven’t even opened your gift, c’mon, open it!” beetlejuice bounced his leg impatiently.

lydia picked up the rectangular box and shook it a little. it felt like nothing was in there. lydia raised an eyebrow.

”open it!”

inside was a square piece of paper, with black words on it; “i owe u 1 kitty”

”beej, what?”

a pop and he had disappeared. the rest of the family looked around, confused. 

another pop, and beetlejuice returned, but this time with multiple kitties in hand. 

”i call this one sunshine, and this one bastard, and this one mary jane, and this one beans, and this one our supreme and almighty ruler.” beetlejuice pointed at the different cats. “but you can name the one you pick whatever you want, these are just ideas, anyway, pick one!”

lydia was attacked by the little animals. one kitty, a white one with a black spot over its eye licked lydia’s hand. she picked it up. “this one.”

”ah yes, beans. good choice.” beetlejuice said, although he murmured something about our supreme and almighty ruler underneath his breath.

”you should, “charles cleared his throat, “probably take the rest of these back to where they came from.”

”right! yes!” beetlejuice snapped and all the other kitties floated up. he went around plucking them out of the air until he had them all, and pop! went to return them.

lydia hugged beans to her chest. 

”are you going to keep the name beans?” asked delia.

”yeah, probably.

”good boy, beans is.” said adam, placing his hand on lydia’s shoulder. and then after a moment, “beans is a boy, right?”

”as far as i know, yeah. but i don’t think cats can really communicate to us what their gender is.” lydia looked up at her ghost dad.

another pop and beetlejuice reappeared. “who’s up for some cake?” he lead the march to the kitchen.

”okay, so, it’ll taste great, it just looks kinda off.” barbara said, getting a knife out to cut slices for everyone. “it’s supposed to have spiderwebs on the inside, not because i think spiderwebs are your favorite thing or anything, lydia, it’s because i thought it would be easy. i was wrong.”

charles placed the plates on the table. “well, let’s dig in!”

barbara cut lydia her piece first, which was practically a quarter of the entire thing. “what are you talking about? barbara, this looks so good!” she shoveled a bite into her mouth and her eyes went wide. “oh wow it tastes incredible too.” 

”thank you, lydia” barbara smiled. 

once the others had their pieces, beetlejuice took the rest of the cake. it wasn’t a completely unreasonably sized piece so nobody stopped him.

they spent the rest of the night watching lydia’s favorite movies; an odd mix of horor, comedy, and disney.

lydia went to sleep knowing that her sixteenth year was going to be a good one.

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi @book--butterfly

just by the way, the book lydia’s reading at the beginning is called marina by carlos ruiz zafon. i’m reading the english translation right now (hopefully the ending is good!) and it just feels like something that lydia would like.

[mxrcayong]

the avatar series: 01.01

masterlist.

previous | next 

The whole city was bustling with excitement. Vibrant colors streamed the streets as everyone prepared for the celebration that is Avatar Day. It’s funny, the old holiday used to defame the Avatar is now used to celebrate the end of the 100-year war. Every city celebrates differently, although most include a dance performance utilizing all four elements and parades. Sooman City is known for having the most eccentric festival of them all. SM city has the biggest parade that runs from 1 to 4 in the afternoon and dance performances with talent shows everywhere possible. There are dramatic retellings of the story of the Avatar, a special feast, a carnival, and occasionally the descendents of the previous Team Avatar come to speak at the main stage. Additionally, there’s a huge fair in the central park and numerous street bazaars selling Team Avatar themed foods and souvenirs. Children and adults alike run amuck, enjoying their day off from work and celebrating the anniversary of the day the world was saved from eternal darkness. 

Tari always had work on the day of the festival. It usually consisted of spending her shift drawing the faces of the previous Team Avatar with foam on the coffee of the customers. The most difficult face? Funnily enough, was Momo. It’s hard to capture the colors of his face in a distinguished manner. Tari is just glad that ‘Iroh and Me’ café is most known for their tea, cause all they have to do for tea orders is add a cookie with the special Avatar Day design of their choice. Most businesses are closed today, from the gyms to the schools, however customer service never stops for anybody – even the Avatar. People would come in, dressed up in traditional garbs compared to their usual outfits, laughing and feeling grateful for the existence of the Avatar. However, this year, the boss of ‘Iroh and Me’ designated Hendery to be the one in charge of the shop for the majority of today (much to his dismay). So, today was the first day in a while Tari was able to sleep in and will be the first Avatar Day she’ll be able to experience. However, her priority is a good twelve hours of sleep. Working in a café usually means being awake at unholy times - normally five in the morning so she could get to work by six and open up by seven. 

Stretching in bed, Tari was awakened with the sight of the bright sun shining into her bedroom, alarming her of the time. It felt unusual - she’s always so used to seeing the sun rise on the coast first thing in the morning when she walks towards the closest tram station. Consequently, she was momentarily panicked - fuck, I’m late to work - she thought to herself. A wave of relief hit her as soon as she remembered her plan for today: stay inside and relax. With a breath she didn’t even know she was holding, she fell back onto her pillows and nuzzled into the comfort.  

On any other work-free day, she’d be out with friends - usually annoying Johnny in his studio, following Doyoung to the gym, checking out local shops with Kilara, helping Roddie study, or assisting in Sonan’s store. But all those workplaces are closed – except for Johnny’s, but he loves the festival; always trying to get Tari to get an ‘off day’ on work to participate in the festival with Doyoung and him, and any of the friends he invites or bumps into later.  Not only has she been avoiding this day since she’s heard of it, but she just hates the fact that the streets will be absolutely flooded with people. Walking today will be like swimming in the ocean when the tide brings you the other way; difficult. 

Climbing out of bed, she quickly threw on a pair of sweatpants and brushed her teeth in her bathroom. She wanted to get ready to spend the day at home, planning to cook her favorite comfort food of seaweed noodles with traditional water tribe soup. It’s her favorite go-to meal, reminding her of the home she doesn’t have vivid memories of. She may potentially also put on a movie or read a book. She’s been meaning to read “To Rock and Flow With It”, a love story between an earthbender and a waterbender. 

Through her bedroom door, she could hear soft mumbles of a conversation from the living room. Hoping Doyoung hasn’t gone insane, Tari stood up to figure out where the other half of the conversation is coming from. As she opened the door, the brightness from the whole wall of windows blinded her temporarily. “So you don’t have work today.” A voice that certainly wasn’t Doyoung’s commented. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw Doyoung behind the kitchen counter, whisking a bowl and Johnny sitting across the counter on a stool. He looked mischievous, as if he was up to something. Both of them were dressed. The two of them always spends the holiday exploring the city and the different fair activities. Johnny was in a cream sweater and black jeans, a gray shirt poking out from the neckline while Doyoung wore a black hoodie and dark blue jeans.

“Nope,” Tari popped the ‘p’, walking towards Doyoung to see what he was cooking. “Eggs?” Doyoung nodded, “Can I steal some?” She pleaded, widening her eyes and pouting to convince him – despite knowing he wouldn’t need that look to comply to her request. She quickly turned to face Johnny, now sliding towards the fridge. “Johnny, I swear, your home is on the other side of town but you’re always here.” She’s not complaining - she loves his presence, but they just tease each other. It’s the nature of their relationship. 

“Yes, but, this place will be so lonely without me.” He fake cried, motioning to the small apartment. “Who else will sleep on your couch every once in a while?” Tari chuckled, before rolling her eyes. 

Doyoung smiled, staring at the eggs he was now pouring into the frying pan. “I mean, at this rate, you should just move in rather than pay for rent at a place you don’t even stay in.” 

“I’ll hold you to that offer,” Johnny winked, “But for now!” Johnny clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “You know what Tari’s freedom means, Do!” Tari looked at him questionably as she opened up the fridge, grabbing the ingredients for seawood noodles.

Ignoring her confusion momentarily, she turned to look up at Doyoung. She already knew if Johnny was here, he’d want to eat anything that he could. “Seaweed noodles?”

“Yes please.” Doyoung grinned, before Johnny took over the conversation once more.

He put his hands on the top of his head, “I’m just saying this will be your first time in two years to experience the novelty of a Sooman City Avatar Day. C’mon, where did you live before right? You said they hardly celebrated.”

The water bender shrugged, using her powers to speed up her cooking time by gently steaming up the water in the pot with the seaweed noodles and other ingredients in. “I hardly celebrated, I always had to work.”

“So, this will be your first time!” Johnny further contested, making Tari roll her eyes as Johnny now came up towards her, standing beside her in an attempt to convince her more. “I mean come on! Out of your 20 years of life, you’ve yet to experience a culturally important, iconic” He exaggerated his pronunciation of the long list of adjectives that he probably have used in his most recent articles, “... event.” Usually, he was more relaxed and open about her not being able to go - although usually, she also has a solid excuse. She looked to Doyoung. One thing they developed quite well over the last almost-two years of living together was a silent language, purely using their eyes and facial expressions.

Doyoung chuckled at her flustered face just begging him to answer why Johnny is so desperate for her presence, “He has to report on the festival this year.”

She chortled. “Ooh, that’s fun!” Tari teased, “Mixing work with pleasure. What angle are you taking? ‘Why the carousel should be your must-go activity’?”

The journalist leaned against the fridge as his two friends cooked for the three of them. “No, it’s actually about how this day is used to celebrate the previous Avatars and consequently, also bending and thus,” He grabbed a piece of the pile of dry seaweed Tari would sprinkle on the top of the soup and took a bite of it, “shows support against the anti-bending regime.” He obviously rehearsed that, and Tari can only assume that he signed up to report on the event. Surprising, she thought to herself, Johnny usually wants this day to relax. 

The air bender nodded, liking the idea. “You could get some really cool perspectives on that. From both like the police officers patrolling, influencers, stall owners, families, so on.” Doyoung imagined the article’s success already. Johnny was one of the best reporters in the local newspaper and it’s easy for him to gain a lot of attention on his articles. Him writing this article - as a non-bender - may bring awareness to the issues benders currently face, “I’m getting kind of sick of people pointing at the bending gyms and yelling that it’s ‘anti-equality” He sighed.  

“Okay first, Doyoung that sucks and you need to report to the police for harassment.” Tari started.

The airbending instructor was quick to interject, “It’s not to the air gyms, at least – not a majority of time. It’s usually at night and to the fire bending gym. I don’t have any place to report on behalf of anyone else”

“But that’s still society, so this anti-bending regime is just anti-pro bending.” Tari commented, furrowing her eyebrows. She hasn’t noticed any particular hatred for bending other than the pro-bending, which was why it was banned around 20 years ago – just before she was born. Yeah, as a result of this ban – there has been discrimination against benders, often seeing them as violent or leading them to be ostracised – but it’s been improving over the last few years due to the amount of protests and parades hosted to support benders. “Maybe just focus on the societal perspectives?”

Johnny tsked, “I heard from an inside source that there are rumors of something escalating.” He sighed.

“You must be glad you’re not a bender then.” Doyoung chuckled, trying to lighten the conversation from the news regarding perception of benders and trying to hint at Johnny to change the topic. He always notices that Tari gets quite awkward when talking about bending. She’s comfortable doing it – not much actually talking about it.

Johnny winked, “Always.” He turned back to Tari, following Doyoung’s lead and changing the topic, “can you please come? You can help interview people rather than do things.” That didn’t elicit a response, Tari just shrugging - not in the mood to be doing work she normally does when she has a day off anyway. “Okaaaaaayyyyy, how about while Doyoung and I check out the actual festivities and do interviews, you can look at the bazaar stalls?” Tari pouted her bottom lip, getting slightly intrigued. “I heard Sunmi will have a special stall full of exclusive stuff!” He practically sang.

“Hey, wait, when did I sign up to help?” Doyoung lifted his hands defensively as if he was caught in a crime. He’d help regardless, but it’s always nice to be asked. 

Johnny cheekily smiled, “You signed up when you became my friend.” Doyoung stared at the ceiling, laughing, before putting his hand back on the spatula to scramble the eggs. 

“Tempting.” Tari bit her lip. Out of all the local stores in Sooman City, Sunmi owned a shop called ‘wonder girls’ which sells some of the most beautiful re-worked thrifted items. It’s where Tari actually bought her favorite carpet reminiscent of air nation patterns that now adorns the living room and the tapestry in her bedroom which is reminiscent of the patterns reported to be in the Northern Water Tribe spirit oasis.  

“Fine.” She growled out reluctantly. “Let’s go, but after we eat. And we have to stop by Sonan’s shop.”

She wasn’t sure if Sunmi’s stall was worth it. Most of the things she sold were old items reminiscent of the different past Avatars. Yeah - they all fit Tari’s aesthetic and likes, but they just weren’t what she wanted hanging in her room everyday because of the specific designs. The only thing that caught her eye was an old-looking book on “the lessons we could learn from the previous Avatars”. The cover was decorated with minimalist sketches with a traditional edge to them. It called out to her because of the fact that on the front cover, they promoted the fact that the self-help book was apparently approved by Tenzin and Pema. So, she looked through it - and while her fingers flipped through the crisp pages, particular phrases in bold seemed to shout out to her: “No matter how strong you are, individuals cannot maintain harmony alone” and “do not doubt your greatness and do not run from your truths.” At the same time, the last phrase made her scoff and put the book down. Thanking Sunmi and wishing her goodbye, she slowly left the white tent - letting her eyes linger on a necklace similar to Katara’s (but bronze rather than blue), a boomerang with air nation carvings and Aang’s tattoo on it, a headband reminiscent on Toph’s but in different colors, and a silk robe which took inspiration from Zuko’s vest.

Leaving the white tent, she looked around the city that’s already vibrant on it’s own - nevertheless with the purposeful use of colors to heighten the celebrations on the street. She looked at all the children who were carrying around prop-gliders, grinning and smiling. All the booths and stalls sold cookies in the shapes of the Avatars and their teams or of the symbols of each element. Balloons in the shape of Momo and Appa marked the sky while Flying Bisons were used as an attraction, people paying a number of yuan to be able to board and ride the Flying Bison over the city for just thirty minutes. 

While walking down the bazaar, she saw Johnny and Doyoung interview people attending the festival and hosting the stalls. Johnny was equipped with his camera around his neck like a necklace and a notepad which he was intently scrawling notes from the interview. She chuckled at Doyoung’s bored expression; looking around the festival as he held Johnny’s microphone so that he could replay and get exact quotes later. Doyoung caught her eyes across the crowd and lifted one arm up as a wave, so Tari responded similarly - before chuckling at Johnny slapping Doyoung to pay attention. He immediately had to rrub the spot he was hit on and turned back to the interview. If there was one thing Tari learnt while joining Johnny for multiple interviews, it’s that Johnny hates it when there’s anything  that can negatively affect his rapport with an  interviewee. This means whoever he’s with has to look equally engrossed in the conversation. 

Despite how much she has been avoiding these celebrations, the bustling crowd didn’t prevent her from seeing the beauty she saw from the street’s vibrant colors and festivities. Everyone looked so happy and in bliss. This is what peace and harmony should look like; happiness. I’m not needed, she’d tell herself. She stood blankly in the middle of the street, ignoring the very minimal and light pushes from other people as she observed the world around her - mentally slowing down everything thats happening. Mental note, she told herself, ask Johnny to send me some photographs from today. 

Walking down the streets, everything was so lively. Animated story tellers, grinning parents, young adults exploring, children learning history - this felt amazing. Why do I avoid these? She questions herself, before her eyes caught sight of the reason she does. 

Her eyes fell upon the statues of the previous Avatars standing in order, taller than most buildings on the street but only half the size of the Aang statue that guards the coast. Some people were bowing down in front of the statues, some were just observing it. Most people stared at up in awe - afterall, these are the people who save the world and whose purpose is to protect mankind. These are the people who will forever live on through a different reincarnation, a different life. They are the people with immense and extraordinary power. Despite her trembling steps, she decided to approach it, allowing the large and otherworldly statues to stare down at her - eyeing her up and down, reminding her she’s not of similar status. 

She felt her breath get trapped in her throat as her memories flash back to the last time she lived with her parents. 

“We don’t normally tell them when they’re this young,” She overheard someone telling her parents; a voice she’d grow familiar with as she grew up, “But your daughter is showing incredible skill and we want to train her early.” The same voice’s smile was evident in their voice as they continued to speak in conviction, “If we do it right, she can be considered the greatest of them all.” 

She was only four years old when the person who raised her took her away from her family who resided in a traditional water nation village. Ever since then, despite being put into circumstances where it may seem impossible, she kept trying to run away. Not just physically, but mentally. Trying to leave everything behind. All she wanted was a new beginning, a new identity, a new face. She knew if she had the opportunity, she may ask the Mother of Faces to change her face - but at the same time, that doesn’t stop the fact that she’s Tari. That she was born like this. 

Trying to catch her breath, she looked around and saw a stage with a list of performances next to the entrance to the audience area. This should be calming, she falsely presumed. She approached; noticing how some of the famous local dancers like Jungwoo and Winwin are at the front of the audience, probably preparing for their act. She always loved seeing them dance - they were always enchanting. Whenever she hears they will be performing, she always drags someone - usually Sonan or Doyoung - to watch. Although intrigued due to her interest in watching the dancers, as she got closer she noticed that the current show was a play and the actors were standing in line as if they were about to bow. All of them dressed like the statues from earlier, except theres an addition. At the end, right next to Aang, there was two waterbenders holding a newborn child. She tried to focus on what’s being said by the narrator. 

“All we know now is that there is an Avatar in this world and they are from the water nation.” The narrator’s voice boomed, mumbled by the distance. He grinned as if reminiscing about the time he heard the news of the birth of the Avatar, “There’s no other information about him or her, but we know that whoever they are; the spirit of Aang, of Roku, Kyoshi, Kuruk, Yangchen, Bayu, Salai, and Wan lives on through them.”

It started to become overwhelming. She quickly turned back and started heading anywhere she can catch a breath - but that means she has to get away from the bustling crowd. Okay, time to go. Her thoughts were running a mile every minute, nothing focusing - everything in a fast-paced motion. She was planning on going to Sonan’s booth once Johnny and Doyoung started heading in the same direction, as it was set up on the opposite end of the street and she was not going to brace this festival alone. But, she just can’t be here anymore. She quickly texted Hendery telling him she’s on her way and she’ll take over his shift, no problem. His response? A series of celebratory gifs and a promise to a future favor. 

Quickly texting her, Johnny, and Doyoung’s group chat – she informed them of ‘an emergency at work’ where ‘Hendery got burnt’ and she has to step in It’s better to text them rather than approaching them because all they’ll do is convince her to stay. That, and Johnny may actually hold her to him throughout the event. She then texted Sonan she’ll see her later tonight for dinner, which Tari now promised she’ll be providing. She quickly sprinted to the closest tram station, but even there – despite how it’s not as crowded as usual due to people exploring the festivities, everyone who got off the train were in traditional garbs. Especially the orange outfit and red cape Aang was famous for. I just can’t escape, can I? Staring at her quickly shuffling feet as much as she can, she made her way to the cafe within thirty minutes. 

“You’re a savior.” Hendery praised, hugging his friend and passing over his apron. She chuckled.

“Go have fun, donkey.” She lovingly called him his nickname, making him chuckle. As soon as the door chimed, signalling that he has left - she watched him waddle towards the same direction she just came from. “Because I know I won’t.” She mumbled under her breath as she tied her apron behind her back and prepared herself to serve numerous patrons dressed like the very same statues who stared down at her like gods half an hour earlier.

request anything for future parts / penny for your thoughts here 

[draqcnheartstrinq]

Hate That I Want You (Part 2)

Sirius Black x Pure-blood!Slytherin!Reader

Summary: At first it’s hate, then it’s confusion. It grows into a healthy amount of curiosity until it turns into hate once more. But not towards each other, more towards the idea of wanting what you’ve tried to avoid all your life.

Words: 3.3k

Note: This series is a little experiment, let me know if you like it because I’ve got no clue if this is anything good or not XD

HTIWY Masterpost | Part 3

It was a surprisingly hot day at the Hogwarts Grounds as it was mid-October. Usually the sky was covered in grey and a cold wind had everyone shivering every once in a while, but not today.

The birds chirped from the trees, the grass held a beautiful green colour and the water from the lake reflected the bright sun. That’s why the four Gryffindor boys sat outside along with a few other friends like Lily, Marleen, Frank, Mary and Alice.

Nice talk and mindless chattering filled the hot hair. They spoke about everything and at the same time nothing but it didn’t take away from the fun they always seemed to have with each other. Every now and then someone started a new story and not long after everyone else joined in. It was that typical kind of moment every friend group had to have in a while, but only these few friends knew how to do it the absolute right way.

James was leading the conversation at the moment, like he did so many times, and Sirius barked out a laugh at almost every single joke.

The angry word-exchange between Sirius and Frank, from last week, was almost forgotten about, they just both desperately avoided the dangerous topic called ‘you’. It had been easy so far, both weren’t in the mood for another pointless argument, being just as stubborn as the other.

Frank was a nice guy but when he was certain of his point he didn’t back down. Sirius on the other hand was much more hot-headed and didn’t even consider understanding someone else’s view. It was a bad habit, both of the boys knew that, but neither of them changed anything about it. So yes, the argument would be very pointless.

“Lily, tell me please, what’s your favourite candy from Honeydukes?” James suddenly asked after some silence.

“You’ve asked me this about five times this week, James.”

“I’m sorry, forgive me for being so forgetful.”

Marleen liked to joke about the lovebirds and so had to have her say too. “You going to go buy some for her? Trying to ask her out again?”

“Maybe I am”, James said, staring in Lily’s eyes and winking towards her.

“I think I just puked a little”, Sirius interrupted in his very typical way.

“Oh Padfoot, you’re just jealous James isn’t asking you out!”

Everyone laughed, even Sirius himself chuckled along but pretended to roll his eyes at Remus’ statement anyways.

After a lighthearted back and forth between the both of them Frank lost interest in the bickering and let his eyes wander over the grounds. First years were enjoying the games they played, like typical eleven year olds do. It made him think back to the days they were still excited about all the new magic they learned and the essays they had to make. Now, in their seventh and last year, they couldn’t be more happy when they finally had a free hour.

His eyes scanned a bit further towards the lake where he swore he saw some fins splashing above surface every now and then. The water looked beautiful, shimmering and even inviting. Some third and fourth years seemed to think the same as they took off their shoes and paddled their feet through the waves.

Finally Frank’s eyes landed on a girl’s figure. She was sat against the trunk of a tree near the lake, clutching a letter in her hands. Squinting his eyes and taking a better look at the girl he could finally recognise her features.

You were staring at the letter in your hands, reading every word with utter most carefulness. A tiny sad smile planted itself on your lips and just like James’ laugh, your smile was contagious.

But just as quick as the smile came it disappeared again. A frown and a dip in your eyebrows appeared instead.

He had only been staring for merely ten seconds when others started to notice Franks’ silence and obvious interest in something else than the conversation. Alice followed his eyes, finding you sitting there with a very undecipherable expression resting on your face.

She looked back at Frank, he looked at her and they gave each other a short nod in understanding. Frank wasn’t going to go up to you and ask what was wrong, full well knowing that if he did Sirius would be on his back in no time. So Alice was going to take the blow this time. Still they hoped no one else would notice, at least not Sirius.

She whispered something to Marlene, stood up and made her way in your direction.

Of course nothing ever went like it was supposed to.

“Alice, where are you going?” Peter spoke up for everyone to hear.

She abruptly halted her steps, cringing at what she knew was about to unfold before turning towards the group. Frank sighed, a little less subtle than he intended it to be.

“Aren’t you feeling well?” James asked, not having a clue about what was going on.

“No, James, I’m fine there’s just someone else who I think would appreciate a little company right now…”

“We love your company too, though! Why leave?”

“James, this really isn’t the time to-”

At this point both Lily and Marlene understood the situation, call it girl’s intuition, and knew how bad this could turn out. They looked at Alice, for a split second at Frank and then they both went on their mission ‘distract Sirius as best as possible’.

“Lily and I missed Potions class yesterday!”

“Yes! We did! Could somebody tell us what we missed? Like, every possible detail!”

Taking the bait both Sirius and Remus started to explain and this was Alice’s chance to keep on walking, possibly a little faster than she had before. A relieved smile appeared on her lips, the same for Frank who was still seated in the circle.

You, reading the letter clutched in your hands over and over, had no clue of what was going on so when Alice sat herself beside you, you jumped at the movement.

“Oh Merlin, Alice, you scared the living daylights out of me!” No matter how hard the shock, you couldn’t help but laugh at her faux innocent look.

“Sorry for that”, she giggles in response, “I was just wanting to check up on you. Something bothering you?” She nods at the letter still between your fingers and lays a hand on your forearm.

“No, it’s stupid honestly. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not stupid if it leaves that look on your face!”

“What look on my face?” you laugh.

“The ‘I feel like my world is about to shatter but I have to stay positive” kind of look. I’ve seen you use that face quite a lot recently and it worries me, (Y/N). So, come on, tell me what’s happening.”

You sigh, knowing that she won’t let it go. But you’re thankful at the same time. You’ve been wanting to talk to somebody about it, not knowing if things would get better or if they wouldn’t and Alice was ready to listen. To be quite honest, she was always ready to listen if it meant helping you. She was nice, she is nice, she’ll always be nice and even though you didn’t know her as well as you would like to she was still there when needed.

You silently thanked her before starting your story.

“It’s about my grandma…”

“The one you hate or the one you really really like?”

You laugh again: “The one I really really like.”

You both have a little giggle before continuing.

“You know she’s the only family member that understands me, the only one that shares my opinion of how wrong our family treats Muggleborns and just non-Pure-bloods in general. She sends me one letter every week and tells me how she’s holding up, she asks me if I feel okay and if my grades are good and she’s just wonderful like that.”

You look down at the letter holding her handwriting. The punctuation is on point and the language is maybe a tad old-fashioned but that’s how she does it and it brings joy to your days. But this letter contained some bad news.

“Go on, darling.”

“She writes to me that she has fallen ill, badly. She’s in St. Mungo’s Hospital right now and they’re treating her well but… They won’t be able to keep helping her.”

“How come?”

“She doesn’t have the money. And with my family not supporting her because of the opinions she chooses to be loyal to, they won’t be sending her any money either. I wanted to help her, send some money her way myself but I don’t have that kind of money and asking my parents for extra would just make them suspicious, possibly making them stop giving me anything altogether.

They know how much I love her and how much I share her views, they already don’t like me as is. So crossing them like that would be a major mistake.”

Finally looking up from the letter you could see the anger on Alice’s face. She didn’t like the way your family handled things one bit, even almost abandoning their only child just because of different opinions made her boil with rage.

She shook her head, trying to calm herself and comfort you.

“I’m so very sorry to hear that kind of stupidity. It’s so unfair, for your grandma and for you. If there’s anything I can do then please, don’t hesitate to ask!”

“You’ve listened, that’s already so much, thank you Alice.”

“Of course, (Y/N)”, she takes you in for a tight hug and comforting whispered words, “You’re always welcome.”

She smiles at you, now holding you at arm's length before you speak again.

“I should go and write back to grandma, she’ll appreciate that.”

You both stand up, hugging one last time and parting ways after she tells you to take it slow and find her or Frank whenever you need.

You thank her one more time and get on your way.

When Alice makes it back to the group a scowl is plastered on her normally soft features and Sirius can’t help but notice.

“Everything alright, Alice? Didn’t that friend want your company after a-” But Sirius’ smirk gets wiped off his face as soon as he sees the direction Alice came from and the person who was running the opposite direction.

You… Out of all people Alice could have been talking to, it was you. And above all, you had made sure Alice was in a bad mood. Beautiful, cheerful Alice now held the biggest frown on her face. Because of you!

Why did it always have to be you…

“Alice, what did she do to you?” Sirius growled. Everyone's eyes turned to Alice, Frank mumbled something under his breath and Alice herself just got more and more angry with the situation.

“She did absolutely nothing, for once let her be!”

“If she’s bringing my friends in such a fowl mood then no, I’m not going to ‘let her be’.”

By this point everyone could basically see flames burning in Sirius’ pupils. Both James and Remus tried calming him down but to no avail.

Alice went to pull Marlene, Mary and Lily up, pulling them towards the castle and leaving the boys with a threatening silence. After a few seconds Frank stood up too, staring Sirius down and shaking his head.

“Why can’t you just understand she’s not who you think she is.”

“Oh, Frank, just leave already. I already know on which side of the argument you stand, no point in having a fit about it.”

The boy left the Marauders to sulk, not wanting to participate in most probably talking smack about you. He didn’t understand how James, Remus and Peter could be putting up with Sirius’ bias but then again…

They were his best friends and best friends don’t leave you for something as simple as a prejudice. They were there to help you out of a wrong opinion, a wrong mindset…

They had been trying for so long, yet Sirius couldn’t cooperate.

Not when it was all about you.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Nearly a week after receiving your grandma’s letter and sharing it with Alice, you sat next to her and Lily in potions class. The Slytherins had potions with the Gryffindors often, probably at least twice every week, and while you enjoyed the girls’ company you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable every time.

It was like you were being watched, like people were tense around you more than they usually were. Gryffindors whispered at each other, Slytherins glanced at you as if you were a secret they couldn’t share…

It felt weird every time, but today was the worst it had ever been.

Concentrating on the potion in front of you was hard when you felt the back of your head burn with eyes boring into it. So far you had persuaded yourself not to look around and find the source... But you could only handle so much.

A quick look wouldn’t be out of place, right?

So you turned, carefully but not slowly, and found the Marauders sitting behind you discussing the ingredients of the potion in front of them.

Only, there was one of them not engaging in the conversation… And you met two grey stormy orbs.

You almost didn’t recognize his eyes at first, because for once they didn’t look at you with pure hatred and anger. They stared you down, trying to get through to you, trying to figure you out. Finally trying to understand you, in a way.

When a few seconds of the both of you locking eyes passed, he averted his attention back to the task at hand and his friends who were still discussing their next steps. You did the same, confused and perplexed.

Noticing the interaction, both Lily and Alice smiled at each other.

Maybe there was hope.

Maybe they finally got him to listen.

*~*~*~*~*~*

But the hope was short lived.

The hour of potions class was over, everyone left the room and spilled into the hallways and no one cared to give you a second glance.

You were used to it, full well knowing that most of the people were too scared to even raise a finger at you and if they weren’t, they usually agreed with your family’s views but not with yours.

Alice and Lily were nice enough to say goodbye, but that was it. Probably the most interaction you had gotten the whole day,  except from that one third year asking you for the eggs this morning.

As everyone left, you felt his eyes again somewhere on the right of the hallway. How weird that you could just sense his stare by now, but after several years of practice you didn’t really expect it to be any different.

Sirius was leaning against a pillar, this time holding the angry look again instead of the ‘I’m actually trying to understand at least something about you’ look. Of course, no surprise there.

You had to be honest, in that single moment you felt intimidated and maybe even a little afraid of what was about to unfold. Thinking back to the marks on your wrist didn’t help with that.

As he strode over to you with determination, you tried to escape his attention by just keeping on walking. But once again, luck wasn’t on your side.

He grabbed you by the arm, tugging your body back to face him. What you noticed, though, was that his grip was softer than expected, almost gentle.

Sirius’ eyes searched yours for a while, still looking angry but not feeling angry as his fingers slowly let go of your arm. Such a contrast from last time he cornered you in the corridor.

“(Y/L/N).”

“Black.”

Funny how both your surnames were something you both hated just as much.

It stayed silent for a few never-ending seconds. Nobody was there to save you or drag Sirius away which made you more nervous with every heartbeat. By this point you could swear you were about to get a heart attack.

“Sorry.”

Wait what? What had just come out of his mouth?

“What did you just say to me?”

He reached up to his face, holding it and heaving a sigh. This was painful for him, more than painful even, but after a little thinking he realised an apology was at its place.

“Don’t make me repeat it, hearing it once is all you’re getting!” he mumbled under his breath.

You were absolutely dumbfounded. Your mouth stood agape, your eyes opened wide, your eyebrows shot up and the thoughts in your mind were going at full speed. What had happened since that day in the corridor where he imprinted his fingernails into your skin, all out of pure anger?

“W-why, if I may ask?”

“Look, (Y/L/N), don’t think that we’re best buds all of a sudden, okay? I still don’t like you, I still don’t agree with what you stand for but if Alice goes out of her way to be friendly with you and defend you against me then I think, maybe, I should attempt to at least tolerate your presence.”

A pang of relief shot through you, but right after there was a wave of hurt.

‘Don’t agree with what you stand for’.

Those words cut deeper than his nails had through your skin. You always knew people thought of you as the pure-blood who hates everything and everyone ‘non-pure’, you knew people had an opinion ready even when they didn’t know sh*t.

But it hurt to actually hear it. It hurt when others talked about you as if they understood what was going on.

“You honestly still believe I stand for what my family stands for?” It wasn’t a question, you already knew the answer.

“Your name speaks for itself, doesn’t it?” He said that as if it was a simple equation. You, plus your surname, equals definite evil.

“Does your surname speak for you?” The anger made your voice tremble, your index-finger pointed right into his chest.

“Does your family’s actions reflect on you? Have you ever considered I could be in the same bloody situation as you are, or is the hate towards Slytherins just so damn huge it doesn’t even matter what my opinions are? You’re just going to keep accusing me of sh*t I’ve never done, or better, never even said!”

“So, you’re just going to deny you share the same views as your family?”

“I never shared their love for our bloodstatus let alone my whole opinion on who’s worthy and who is not! It may be a surprise to you, Black”, you made sure to spit out his surname as if it was a pawn on a chessboard, “but I consider someone worthy as soon as they step foot in this world, from there on it’s up to themselves if they deserve to walk among the others or not.”

Sirius went dead silent. He fixated on you, his chest went up and down with every breath, you could almost see the gears turning inside his head.

“Well, if you don’t agree with them then why do you still go along with your parents’ antics?”

“Some people don’t wish to be disowned and thrown on the streets, Sirius! Of all people I would think you would be the most understanding of that!”

The silence grew thick as Sirius stared you down with a certain confusion glued on his features, but you didn’t miss the hint of recognition shimmering through them for just a second.

“Now, if you could let me get on my way, I need to get to Mr. Flitwick.”

You stepped around him as he didn’t move from his position. He just followed you with his eyes, leaving him standing alone in the abandoned hallway.

Leaving him with more than a few things to be thinking about. Leaving him to think about you.

TAGLIST:

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[hedwigstalons]

The Tracy Prize - part 5

Kayo sat at a nearby table, ostensibly reading a magazine but instead following the meeting between the two scientists intently.  She had to hand it to Brains.  Although not comfortable with field work he was managing remarkably well.  

It had been decided beforehand that Brains would not reveal his involvement with the Tracys.  Claire’s rejection of their previous attempts to make contact had shown she was not one to be swayed by the Tracy name; quite the opposite in fact.  Through the careful use of half-truths and omission Claire was under the impression that Brains worked in a small research facility and that his knowledge of her recent work was as a member of the short-listing committee for the Tracy Prize.  It was a plausible cover story and thankfully one that she was not probing too deeply.

The pair chatting over coffee kept the conversation neutral and on safe topics.  They discussed recent well publicised developments in the fields of chemistry, physics and engineering.  Brains soon found he lost his nervousness and was enjoying the chance to discuss his favourite subjects in depth.

His nervousness returned when a slight nod from Kayo indicated it was time to make his move.

“So Claire, seeing as you d-d-didn’t get the Jeff T-T-Tracy grant will you be applying for other funding?  I-I-It looked like an interesting project.”

“No. Everything else seems to come with caveats.  It will be hard work and it will take longer but I’ll continue the research in private around my lecturing until I’m ready to publish under my own terms. The hard part is getting access to the labs”

Here was the opener Brains had been hoping for.  His chance to entice her to the island.

“Aren’t the f-f-faculty supportive?”

“As much as they can be but without the legitimacy of funding I often can’t get a lab slot.  Trust me, I’d be in there now if they weren’t fully booked out.”

“Where I work is small but w-w-well equipped.  You would be m-m-more than welcome to come and use the facilities and there are g-g-guest rooms on site you can stay in.  C-c-call it my way of trying to make up for you m-m-missing out on the main prize.”

Claire swirled the last of her coffee around the cup as though trying to divine the right thing to do from the patterns in the frothy dregs. Brains was quite glad her focus was elsewhere because he was sure his nervousness was etched on his face like a book.

On the one hand she had always said she would work alone but on the other she couldn’t work at all without the right facilities.  She had nothing keeping her in Denver and the change of scene might do her good.  If she could get some lab time it would be a working holiday and if the facilities weren’t suitable she would treat it as a normal holiday and explore the local area.

To her own surprise as much as Brains’ and Kayo’s she found herself agreeing to the visit.  Brains assured her that the flights would not be a problem; they would be on a private supply flight to the facility and she would be able to return to Denver on the next supply run scheduled in about a week.

The pair parted with Claire being instructed to be ready to be collected from her apartment in the morning and to pack for tropical weather.

After a quick detour to her office to alert the faculty to her upcoming absence Claire headed home.  

In anticipation of this being a working holiday the first thing to pack was her work set up.  While her research methods were cutting edge her approach to recording the results was the complete opposite.  It was the reason why Kayo had been unable to find a digital trail of her research.  

In order to maintain her privacy Claire recorded all her results in physical notebooks.  Each night, on returning from the labs she would scan in the pages and save them to her computer, adding them to the research files.  The notebooks were then locked in a fireproof box as a back up record.  The computer itself was a standalone unit.  She had even gone to the trouble of physically removing all wireless cards and drivers.  She packed the computer, scanner and a couple of notebooks into a reinforced flight case.  In a world of holo-computers and 24 hours connectivity her methods were considered not just archaic, but perhaps a little unhinged.  For her it was the only way she felt that her privacy was truly secure from hacking and intellectual espionage.

With the work side of packing completed she threw a few clothes and her lab coat into a separate bag and settled down for an early night.

The following morning Brains collected Claire as arranged and introduced her to Kayo.  Claire hoped she wouldn’t have much to do with the quiet and serious young woman.  Animosity radiated off her and the intense green eyes appraised Claire in a way that left her feeling like her soul had been stripped bare.  It was a relief when Kayo shut herself on the cockpit leaving Claire and Brains alone in the passenger compartment of the jet.  

The flight was smooth and uneventful.  Kayo activated the intercom for the first and only time of the journey to instruct them to fasten seatbelts for landing.  Claire looked out of the window and was surprised to see they were still flying over ocean.   The only visible landmass, a tiny island in the vast expanse of water, was evidently their destination.  She hoped the laboratories were up to scratch because sightseeing was not going to take long.  There weren’t even that many buildings.  The whole place looked more like an upmarket holiday resort than a scientific research facility.

The plane touched down on a tiny runway and Kayo emerged from the cockpit.  She handed Claire a small watch-like device.

“You’re to wear this at all times.”  The instruction was blunt.  The tone was that of someone used to being obeyed.

“What is it?”

“It’s a radio.  If you are anything like Brains you’ll lose track of time.  We’ve found this is the easiest way to remind people when meals are ready.  Saves having to send someone to look for you”

Claire realised that her travelling companions were wearing similar devices. She fastened the strap, unaware that the device also contained a tracker.  It was one of the many security protocols Kayo had insisted on when Scott had announced his desire to bring Claire to the island. Others included initiating Operation Cover-Up and, if possible, ensuring Claire was never left alone in case she wandered in to any of the more sensitive areas.

“Brains?”

“That would be m-m-me.  No-one here c-c-calls me Hiram.”  Brains was quite glad to ditch the pseudonym and reclaim his more habitual moniker.  It would save a lot of confusion.

The exited the plane and Claire breathed a deep lungful of sea air.  It felt good to be out of the city.

A young man with blonde hair and a questionable taste in shirts hurried forwards to greet them.

“Hi, I’m Gordon” he said with a grin.  “I’ve been given unloading duty, worse luck.  You’ll find everyone else in the lounge. They’re keen to meet you.  As you can probably guess we don’t get many visitors here.  You can leave your bags behind, I’ll make sure they get taken to your rooms.”

Gordon disappeared into the cargo area of the plane where he and Kayo started stacking boxes ready for transportation to the various store rooms and hangers around the island.  Brains and Claire were left to make their own way up the house.

“Gordon is out resident m-m-marine expert” Brains supplied.  “We are a small t-t-team so everyone helps out when needed.  He m-m-must have picked the short straw.  We ought head up, we d-d-don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

As they walked along a meandering path by the shore Claire was suddenly daunted by the prospect of meeting the entire island population in one go.  She tried to quiz Brains about who else was on the island.

“Beyond m-m-myself, Kayo and Gordon there are only four others here p-p-peramently.  It’s p-p-probably best if I let them introduce themselves.”  This was a topic Brains was keen to avoid and he quickly lapsed into silence.

They entered one of the few buildings and Claire was struck by the expense of the place.  This was evidently a residential area.  There was no evidence of offices or workspaces.  No clinical corridors.  She felt like she was intruding in a private home.  A private home for someone very wealthy.  It made her feel uneasy.

The hallway they were in opened out into a large lounge area dominated by a circular area of seating sunk into the floor.  An unusual mix of people occupied the seats.  One teenager, one older lady and a young man.

The man unfolded himself from the seats as she entered.  He was tall and athletic with startling blue eyes.  He quickly crossed the floor to greet her.

“Dr Ashwell, I’m so pleased you came.  I’m Scott.”

Unfortunately for Scott his offered hand was ignored.  Claire was staring straight past him to the far side of the room where a final figure was perched on a piano stool.  Her feelings of unease evaporated and were replaced with full-on defensive mode.  Her attitude became glacial.

“Mr Tracy, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”